Kernos, 27 | 2014 [En Ligne], Mis En Ligne Le 11 Novembre 2014, Consulté Le 23 Septembre 2020

Kernos Revue internationale et pluridisciplinaire de religion grecque antique

27 | 2014 Varia

Édition électronique URL : http://journals.openedition.org/kernos/2220 DOI : 10.4000/kernos.2220 ISSN : 2034-7871

Éditeur Centre international d'étude de la religion grecque antique

Édition imprimée Date de publication : 1 novembre 2014 ISBN : 978-2-87562-055-2 ISSN : 0776-3824

Référence électronique Kernos, 27 | 2014 [En ligne], mis en ligne le 11 novembre 2014, consulté le 23 septembre 2020. URL : http://journals.openedition.org/kernos/2220 ; DOI : https://doi.org/10.4000/kernos.2220

Ce document a été généré automatiquement le 23 septembre 2020.

Kernos 1

SOMMAIRE

Éditorial

Éditorial André Motte et Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge

Études

Le coureur et le guerrier Anthropologie de la course à pied et de ses vertus militaires Vincent Cuche

Des langes pour Artémis ? Véronique Dasen

Les Grecs et le cru Pratiques alimentaires, pratiques rituelles et représentations dionysiaques Carine Van Liefferinge

The priestess of Athena Nike A new reading of IG I3 35 and 36 Josine Blok

Endowed Eponymous Festivals on Delos Joshua D. Sosin

Dedications to Double Deities Syncretism or simply syntax? Jenny Wallensten

Un aition per due feste Una proposta di lettura dei Daidala in Pausania IX, 2, 7–3, 8 Fiorella La Guardia

The Pasikrata Sanctuary at Demetrias and the alleged funerary sanctuaries of Thessaly A re-appraisal Maria Stamatopoulou

Inscribed Greek Thunderstones as House- and Body-Amulets in Roman Imperial Times Christopher A. Faraone

Rituels, transmission et savoirs partagés à Éphèse Des associations dionysiaques aux communautés chrétiennes Anne-Françoise Jaccottet et Francesco Massa

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Epigraphic Bulletin for Greek Religion 2011 (EBGR 2011) Angelos Chaniotis

Kernos, 27 | 2014 2

Chronique archéologique de la religion grecque (ChronARG) Joannis Mylonopoulos, Despina Chatzivasiliou, Alain Duplouy, Michael Fowler, François Quantin, Emmanuel Voutiras, Kalliopi Chatzinikolaou, Massimo Osanna, Ilaria Battiloro et Alexis D’Hautcourt

Revue des livres

1. Comptes rendus et notices bibliographiques

Julia KINDT, Rethinking Greek Religion Paraskevi Martzavou

Irene POLINSKAYA, A Local History of Greek Polytheism Stéphanie Paul

Richard BUXTON, Myths & Tragedies in their Ancient Greek Contexts Ajda Latifses

Renaud GAGNÉ, Ancestral Fault in Ancient Greece Aurian Delli Pizzi

Flore KIMMEL-CLAUZET, Morts, tombeaux et cultes des poètes grecs Marie-Claire Beaulieu

Paulin ISMARD, L’Événement Socrate Aurian Delli Pizzi

Giovanni CASADIO, Patricia A. JOHNSTON (ed.), Mystic Cults in Magna Graecia Ilaria Battiloro

Angelos CHANIOTIS (éd.), Unveiling Emotions Philippe Borgeaud

Richard BOUCHON, Pascale BRILLET-DUBOIS, Nadine LE MEUR-WEISSMAN (éd.), Hymnes de la Grèce antique Renaud Gagné

Samuel VERDAN, Eretria XXII. Le sanctuaire d’Apollon Daphnéphoros à l’époque géométrique Michael Fowler

Gunnel EKROTH, Jenny WALLENSTEN (ed.), Bones Behavious and Belief Jan-Mathieu Carbon

Roberta RIZZO, Culti e miti della Sicilia antica e protocristiana Nicola Cucuzza

Caitlín E. BARRETT, Egyptianizing Figurines from Delos Richard Veymiers

Beat NÄF, Testimonia Alt-Paphos Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge

Daniel BARBU, Philippe BORGEAUD, Mélanie LOZAT, Youri VOLOKHINE (éd.), Mondes clos. Cultures et jardins André Motte

Kernos, 27 | 2014 3

2. Actes de colloques, ouvrages collectifs et anthologies

Revue des actes de colloques, ouvrages collectifs et anthologies

3. Ouvrages reçus à la rédaction

Revue des ouvrages reçus à la rédaction

Revue des revues

Revue des revues Stéphanie Paul

Kernos, 27 | 2014 4

Éditorial

Kernos, 27 | 2014 5

Éditorial

André Motte et Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge

1 Pendant 26 années, la couverture annuelle de Kernos a seulement varié par la tomaison, le millésime et la couleur. Le moment était donc venu de confier à un graphiste le toilettage de la revue… Sans renoncer à la forme du kernos qui nous suit depuis le début, fût-il minoen, nous avons choisi de rapprocher la ligne graphique de la revue de celle des suppléments. Vous avez le résultat entre les mains !

2 Ce changement de graphisme ne modifie en rien nos ambitions qui sont toujours de fournir, une fois par an, au début de l’automne, un instrument de travail pour tous ceux qu’intéressent les représentations et les pratiques religieuses des Grecs. Outre les rubriques traditionnelles, pour la rédaction desquelles nous ne remercierons jamais assez nos collaborateurs aussi efficaces que bénévoles, ce sont des études portant sur des sujets diversifiés qui forment le florilège des articles retenus.

3 Comme à l’habitude, il nous est agréable d’annoncer que le XVe colloque du CIERGA se tiendra du 1er au 4 octobre 2015 à l’Université de Ioannina. Nous remercions déjà nos collègues Ariane Gartziou-Tatti et Athanassia Zografou pour l’organisation de cette rencontre qui aura pour thème Le monde végétal dans les représentations et les pratiques religieuses des Grecs.

4 Quant aux suppléments de Kernos, le prochain volume sera le 29e et proposera une analyse de la pratique de l’incubation dans les sanctuaires médicaux sous le titre Greek incubation rituals in Classical and Hellenistic times. Il s’agit du livre tiré de la thèse de doctorat qu’Hedvig von Herenheim a présentée à l’Université de Stockholm.

5 Enfin, nous remercions vivement Stéphanie Paul pour son aide toujours aussi efficace dans la mise au point de la revue annuelle et Baudouin Stasse qui en assuré la mise en page.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 6

AUTEURS

ANDRÉ MOTTE Président du Comité de rédaction Vice-président du CIERGA

VINCIANE PIRENNE-DELFORGE Secrétaire de rédaction Secrétaire générale du CIERGA

Kernos, 27 | 2014 7

Études

Kernos, 27 | 2014 8

Le coureur et le guerrier Anthropologie de la course à pied et de ses vertus militaires*

Vincent Cuche

1 À en croire la Charte olympique, dont le second des principes fondamentaux lie explicitement sport et pacifisme ; à en croire la Fondation internationale pour la trêve olympique, ou même l’ONU, qui émet avant chaque olympiade une résolution sur ce sujet1, guerre et sport sont foncièrement et nécessairement antithétiques. Mais si la fondation pour la trêve olympique se réclame de l’exemple grec, les spécialistes du sport antique n’ont pas manqué de rappeler que cette trêve, dans l’Antiquité, n’avait nullement la portée qu’on voudrait aujourd’hui lui donner2, et que les relations entre le domaine sportif et le domaine militaire demeuraient profondément ambiguës.

2 Pour faire bref, disons que, quoique l’agonistique sportive partage avec la guerre tout un ensemble de notions et de valeurs3, elle n’apparaît, dans son essence première, ni comme un dérivé de l’activité guerrière ni même comme une préparation militaire4 ; plus exactement, on préfère y voir deux domaines distincts où s’exprimaient de façon parallèle les valeurs aristocratiques, telles qu’elles se manifestent déjà dans les textes homériques. Au fur et à mesure que ces valeurs, élitistes et individualistes, perdaient de leur pertinence dans le monde des cités hoplitiques, où la guerre est une pratique fondamentalement collective, sont apparues des critiques de l’athlétisme fondées précisément sur le critère militaire. Des élégies de Tyrtée à l’Anacharsis de Lucien, toute une série de textes, tantôt comiques, tantôt sérieux, sont venus dénoncer, entre autres défauts, l’hyper-spécialisation de l’athlète, qui le rendait inapte à servir sa cité sur le champ de bataille5. Ou, pour le dire avec les mots d’Euripide, dans ce passage de l’ Autolycos, drame satyrique fragmentaire6 : τίς γὰρ παλαίσας εὖ, τίς ὠκύπους ἀνὴρ ἢ δίσκον ἄρας ἢ γνάθον παίσας καλῶς πόλει πατρῴᾳ στέφανον ἤρκεσεν λαβών; Qui a jamais défendu la cité de ses ancêtres avec une couronne gagnée en luttant, en l’emportant par ses pieds légers, en soulevant un disque ou en envoyant son poing en pleine mâchoire ?

3 Évidemment, l’ambiguïté, la contradiction inhérentes aux rapports entre le sport, la cité et la guerre entrainaient nécessairement que la position inverse fût également

Kernos, 27 | 2014 9

soutenue (par exemple, au sein même de l’Anacharsis, par le personnage de Solon7). Et si l’on sort du domaine de l’argumentation polémique pour s’intéresser aux pratiques et aux représentations, on ne peut manquer de noter plusieurs indices de l’aura persistante qui accompagnait le champion sportif dans le domaine militaire : quand un sportif accomplissait quelques exploits à la guerre, les historiens comme Hérodote, Xénophon ou Diodore ne manquaient jamais de souligner sa qualité d’athlète8 ; à Sparte, les vainqueurs des concours stéphanites avaient le privilège de combattre à proximité immédiate du roi ; dans le même ordre d’idée, une coutume, dont on ne sait exactement si elle était répandue ou même historique, voulait que la procession triomphale qui accompagnait l’olympionice entrât dans la cité par une brèche faite dans le rempart, signifiant ainsi qu’une cité disposant de tels hommes n’avait nul besoin de murs9. Dans la plupart de ces exemples, les vertus de l’athlète, quoiqu’individuelles, étaient mises au service de la collectivité.

Éloge de la course et pratiques hoplitiques

4 Voilà pour les principes généraux ; il faut maintenant ajouter que tous les sports n’étaient pas égaux par rapport au critère guerrier ; certains trouvaient grâce aux yeux des détracteurs de l’athlétisme. Prenons ainsi le livre VIII des Lois de Platon. Dans un passage où sont étudiées les règles qui régiront idéalement les compétitions athlétiques, l’interlocuteur athénien, dédaignant les concours de lutte, de pugilat et de pancrace, propose de les remplacer par des guerres en miniatures, avec utilisation de vraies armes : ces épreuves-là sauront bien, elles, préparer véritablement les citoyens à la guerre. Sont pourtant conservées, pour leur grande valeur belliqueuse (πάντων πολεμικώτατον), les épreuves de courses traditionnelles, stade, diaulos, hippios, dolichos, — à cette différence qu’elles seront courues en armes, telles des hoplitodromies ; Platon va jusqu’à introduire deux épreuves d’endurance : une course armée de soixante stades pour les hoplites, une autre de cent stades pour les archers10.

5 Pareille dichotomie entre les épreuves sportives lourdes, jugées inutiles à la guerre, et les épreuves de courses, valorisées pour leurs vertus militaires, se retrouve dans un passage frappant de l’Épaminondas de Cornelius Nepos. L’anecdote remonte à la période de la suprématie béotienne, entre 379 à 362 av. J.-C ; les Thébains étaient alors réputés pour leur supériorité physique. Selon Diodore et Plutarque, c’est parce que, encouragés par Épaminondas et Pélopidas, ils passaient leur temps dans les gymnases11. La version de Nepos est différente ; l’Épaminondas qu’il nous présente condamne l’exercice de la palestre au profit de l’exercice des armes, tel un bon platonicien, méprise les épreuves de pure force, et ne retient des disciplines sportives que celles qui sont directement utiles à la guerre — c’est à dire, les épreuves de vitesse12.

6 On aurait tort de ne voir dans cette anecdote qu’un écho de plus des discours savants — philosophiques et médicaux — qui condamnaient les épreuves dites lourdes13. Que la vitesse ait été prisée par Épaminondas et les Thébains trouve peut-être confirmation dans un témoignage contemporain, l’épitaphe de trois généraux béotiens morts à Leuctres. Cette dernière, au style assez contourné, se termine par le vers suivant14 : οὐδ᾽ Ἐπαμεινώνδα δεύτεροι ἐδράμομεν. Nous n’avons pas couru moins vite qu’Épaminondas.

7 Énigmatiques par leur brièveté, ces quelques mots ont suscité plusieurs interprétations différentes ; la plus naturelle consiste cependant à faire d’Épaminondas un parangon de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 10

vitesse, que les généraux défunts étaient fiers d’avoir égalé ; la rapidité à la course apparaît alors comme une pierre de touche de la valeur militaire15.

8 Comment expliquer cette exception en faveur de la course à pied ? En ce qui concerne Platon, il est évident que les compétitions de vitesse qu’il propose sont influencées par la présence de courses armées dans le programme des concours panhelléniques, depuis l’introduction de l’hoplitodromie à Olympie en 520 av. J.‑C.16 ; cette course devenait ainsi la seule épreuve olympique à comporter un rappel explicite du monde militaire. Toutefois, ce sont bien la rapidité (τάχος) et la vivacité (ὀξύτης) en soi que Platon estime utiles à la guerre17 ; quant à Épaminondas, rien ne nous permet de dire que les épreuves de courses qu’il prônait aient été également des hoplitodromies. Et quand bien même elles l’auraient été, cela ne ferait que reculer le problème : pourquoi donc, parmi les concours panhelléniques, la course a-t-elle été la seule épreuve gymnique à se voir ainsi revêtir d’attributs guerriers ? Il y a bien une étiologie de l’épreuve olympique de l’hoplitodromie, qu’on trouve dans le Gymnasticos de Philostrate, et qui relie son introduction à une guerre entre Élis et Dymé. Mais on n’accorde guère de valeur historique à cet aition postérieur de sept siècles à l’événement et dont le schéma ressemble trop à celui de plusieurs récits pseudo-historiques (qu’on examinera bientôt)18. Tenant davantage de la légende que de l’histoire, ce texte doit donc être réservé pour la suite de cette étude, et être étudié pour ses connotations légendaires plutôt que pour sa qualité documentaire. Délaissant Philostrate, les historiens en sont réduits à supposer que cette innovation olympique ne faisait que consacrer une épreuve déjà pratiquée localement ici et là19, ce qui, encore une fois, repousse le problème.

9 La pratique de l’hoplitodromie a le mérite de confirmer ce qu’on pouvait déduire des propos de Platon et des anecdotes autour d’Épaminondas : l’existence d’un lien intrinsèque entre la course à pied et la guerre ; pour autant, elle n’en constitue pas une explication. De fait, il peut paraître étonnant, voire paradoxal, qu’en pleine époque classique la course soit ainsi valorisée dans le domaine de la guerre : selon l’idéologie hoplitique, d’une grande constance depuis Tyrtée, la valeur de l’hoplite se définit selon une opposition entre le brave qui reste stable à son poste et le lâche qui s’enfuit, entre μένειν et φεύγειν20. Or μένειν, ce n’est pas exactement la même chose que τρέχειν… Certes, la course joue un rôle à deux moments de la bataille : au début, lorsque les deux armées se lançaient l’une contre l’autre, et à la fin, lors de la poursuite. Le terme δρόμος est d’ailleurs devenu un terme technique pour désigner le pas de course adopté durant la charge21. Cependant, ce pas de charge n’était pas véritablement un sprint ; et, d’autre part, ce n’était pas là que se décidait l’engagement. L’essentiel d’une bataille d’hoplites se déroulait ailleurs.

10 Dans le cas de la bataille de Leuctres, pour laquelle l’épitaphe des généraux béotiens vante leur rapidité22, on nous mentionne bien une charge de l’aile gauche thébaine23, et il serait tentant de la mettre en relation avec la tactique oblique adoptée par le stratège thébain : en concentrant le meilleur de ses troupes à l’aile gauche, en les disposant sur une profondeur inouïe de cinquante rangs, Épaminondas entendait porter tout l’effort contre l’aile droite lacédémonienne, où se trouvaient les Spartiates et le roi Cléombrotos, prévoyant que leur défaite entraînerait celle du reste de l’armée ; en somme c’était en partie une arme psychologique. La charge pouvait avoir pour fonction de multiplier la violence du coup que la masse thébaine concentrée dans l’aile gauche infligeait aux Spartiates ; de surcroît, il était de bonne tactique d’engager le combat le

Kernos, 27 | 2014 11

plus vite possible, alors que l’infanterie ennemie était encore embarrassée par la retraite désordonnée de sa cavalerie24. Tout cela est possible, mais il n’en demeure pas moins — les sources anciennes sont unanimes sur ce point — que les Spartiates ont résisté très longtemps et que ce n’est qu’à la mort de Cléombrotos que leurs rangs commencèrent à rompre25 ; si l’on ajoute l’anecdote du « pas supplémentaire » demandé par Épaminondas à ses troupes pour assurer la victoire, on voit donc que la décision s’est faite de façon classique, au cours de la mêlée des deux lignes, lorsque chaque mètre de terrain se gagne au prix d’efforts extrêmes26. Il n’était pas alors question de courir. Si l’épitaphe des trois généraux morts à Leuctres a choisi de mettre l’accent sur leur vitesse, ce n’était sûrement pas dans le but de rappeler un moment précis et décisif de la bataille, et sans doute faut-il donner à cet ἐδράμομεν une valeur plus générale qu’il reste à explorer27.

11 Il en va de même avec la plus célèbre charge de l’histoire grecque, qui fut également la première selon Hérodote, celle de Marathon. Magnifiée par l’historien d’Halicarnasse, cette ruée des troupes athéniennes vers les contingents de Datis joua certainement un rôle considérable, tant sur le plan tactique — on minimisait ainsi le temps passé sous le feu des redoutables archers perses — que sur le plan psychologique : par cette charge quasi désespérée s’annulait le phobos que suscitait auparavant la seule vue des Perses28. Encore faut-il faire la part de l’exagération : la vraisemblance physiologique nous empêche d’accepter que les Athéniens aient vraiment couru les huit stades qui les séparaient du camp adverse en conservant leur ordre de bataille ; tout au plus ont-ils pu parcourir le dernier stade au pas de course29. D’autre part, Hérodote prend soin de préciser que la bataille dura un long moment30 ; la course des hoplites athéniens, pour utile qu’elle fut, ne constitua pas l’élément décisif.

12 De tout cela il résulte que si, d’un point de vue pratique, la course a bien sa place à la guerre, on pourrait en accorder une tout aussi grande, sinon plus, à la boxe ou au pancrace, dont la pratique se rapproche davantage de celle de l’othismos, ce moment de mêlée décisif où les deux camps poussent et luttent à portée de bras, bouclier contre bouclier (rapprochement qu’effectue d’ailleurs Plutarque, dans un de ses Propos de table31). Les seules considérations tactiques ne sauraient donc suffire à expliquer pourquoi la course paraît jouir d’une aura militaire privilégiée.

13 Il faut alors recourir à d’autres types d’explications ; examiner les connotations de la course, les contextes dans lesquels on la pratique, les faits religieux et les discours mythiques qui l’entourent ; bref, esquisser une anthropologie de l’acte de courir.

Significations rituelles

14 Tout discours sur la course en tant qu’épreuve sportive devrait commencer avec le prestige particulier dont elle jouissait. Comme le résume Xénophane dans son couplet contre la gloire athlétique, la course était πρότιμον ῥώμης ὅσσ’ ἀνδρῶν ἔργ’ ἐν ἀγῶνι πέλει, « la plus honorée des compétitions de force parmi les hommes »32, et cela avant tout en raison de sa primauté olympique. Plus ancien concours du programme olympique, le stade en constitua pendant longtemps l’unique épreuve et donnait à son vainqueur l’éponymie de l’olympiade ; et lorsqu’on voulut enrichir le programme olympique, les deux premiers concours à être rajoutés furent le diaulos et le dolichos, soit deux autres épreuves de course33. La plupart des concours chrématites semble avoir respecté cette primauté du stade, qui peut donc revendiquer, mutatis mutandis, le statut

Kernos, 27 | 2014 12

qu’occupe de nos jours le cent mètres ; on sait par exemple qu’aux Panathénées athéniennes, le vainqueur du stade était le mieux loti des champions gymniques, avec ses quatre-vingt amphores pour les hommes, soixante pour les jeunes et cinquante pour les enfants34. Et si les épreuves lourdes, et notamment le pancrace, ont pu gagner en popularité durant l’époque hellénistique et romaine35, cela ne signifiait en rien une dévalorisation de la course : les inscriptions honorant les athlètes témoignent au contraire d’une popularité durable des épreuves de vitesse, tandis que de nouvelles épreuves et compétitions, comme l’hoplitodromie des Eleutheria, ou les prestigieux Capitolia (pour lesquels Domitien construisit le stade de la place Navone) leur assuraient une place privilégiée36.

15 Étant donné que les compétitions homériques comportaient déjà un large éventail de concours (course, saut, lancer, boxe, lutte, épreuves hippiques), la pauvreté du programme olympique originel et la position solitaire de la stadiodromie ont logiquement suscité quelques interrogations — d’autant que la chronologie des premiers temps olympiques ne repose que sur les travaux d’un érudit du IVe siècle, Hippias d’Élis37. Mais comme le souligne Hugh Lee, à la différence des concours funéraires pour Patrocle ou des récréations sportives des Phéaciens, les Olympia étaient avant tout une fête religieuse en l’honneur de Zeus. Or, s’il est une épreuve sportive qui a clairement occupé une place rituelle au sein des célébrations grecques, c’est bien la course38. Présente dans de nombreuses fêtes, même dépourvues de concours gymniques, prenant souvent la forme d’une lampadédromie, la course était d’autant plus intégrée à l’action religieuse qu’elle était censée s’achever à l’autel de la divinité honorée ; c’est du moins le fonctionnement habituel de la lampadédromie, dont le vainqueur allumait de son flambeau le feu sacré de l’autel39 ; et c’est également l’ aition du stade et du diaulos, tel que le rapporte Philostrate. Il vaut la peine de le reproduire dans son intégralité40 : 5. Στάδιον δὲ ὧδε εὕρηται· θυσάντων Ἠλείων ὁπόσα νομίζουσι, διέκειτο μὲν ἐπὶ τοῦ βωμοῦ τὰ ἱερά, πῦρ δὲ αὐτοῖς οὔπω ἐνέκειτο. Στάδιον δὲ οἱ δρομεῖς ἀπεῖχον τοῦ βωμοῦ καὶ εἱστήκει πρὸ αὐτοῦ ἱερεὺς (ξὺν) λαμπαδίῳ βραβεύων, καὶ ὁ νικῶν ἐμπυρίσας τὰ ἱερὰ Ὀλυμπιονίκης ἀπῄει. 6. Ἐπεὶ δὲ Ἠλεῖοι θύσειαν, ἔδει μὲν καὶ τοὺς ἁπάντων τῶν Ἑλλήνων θύειν θεωρούς, ὡς δὲ μὴ ἀργῶς ἡ πρόσοδος αὐτῶν γίγνοιτο, ἔτρεχον οἱ δρομεῖς ἀπὸ τοῦ βωμοῦ στάδιον, οἷον καλοῦντες τὸ Ἑλληνικόν, καὶ πάλιν ἐς ταὐτὸν ὑπέστρεφον οἷον ἀγγέλλοντες, ὅτι δὴ ἀφίξοιτο ἡ Ἑλλὰς χαίρουσα· ταῦτα μὲν οὖν περὶ διαύλου. 5. Voici comme a été inventé le stade. Quand les Éléens avaient sacrifié selon leur coutume, les parts sacrificielles étaient disposées sur l’autel mais le feu n’y était pas encore mis. Les coureurs se tenaient à un stade de distance de l’autel, devant lequel se tenait le prêtre avec un flambeau, qui servait d’arbitre ; le vainqueur mettait le feu aux parts sacrificielles et s’en retournait avec le titre d’olympionice. 6. Quand les Éléens avaient sacrifié, il fallait aussi que tous les théores de Grèce sacrifiassent à leur tour, et pour ne pas retarder leur procession, les coureurs partaient de l’autel en courant sur la longueur d’un stade, comme pour inviter tout le monde grec, puis revenaient à leur point de départ comme pour annoncer que la Grèce était arrivée et apporter son salut. Voilà donc pour l’épreuve du diaulos.

16 C’est à partir de ces éléments que Walter Burkert a tenté de retrouver, dans une analyse demeurée célèbre, le sens religieux originel des concours olympiques. Rappelant que la fête comportait le sacrifice nocturne d’un bélier noir au héros Pélops, dont le bothros se trouvait à l’ouest de l’Altis, ainsi que le sacrifice diurne d’un taureau sur le gigantesque autel de cendre de Zeus, un peu plus à l’est, et considérant que le stade primitif devait

Kernos, 27 | 2014 13

aboutir à l’autel de cendre, il a proposé de voir dans la course une action rituelle à part entière, reliant les deux lieux sacrificiels, et signifiant le passage de l’obscurité à la lumière, de la mort sanglante à la purification par le feu et à la vie, via la manifestation de force du coureur41.

17 En intégrant également le mythe du démembrement de Pélops à cet ensemble, Burkert pouvait rattacher les Olympia à sa théorie générale du sacrifice comme acte violent empreint de mauvaise conscience, accompagné d’une « comédie de l’innocence » et culminant en une restauration joyeuse des forces vitales. Mieux : certaines particularités propres au Pélops d’Olympie lui paraissaient ressortir au même schéma que celui qu’il avait déduit de son analyse des rites et mythes du mont Lycée — histoires de cannibalisme, de culpabilité et d’expiation, d’initiations et de réintégrations42. Ce faisant, il retrouvait là une théorie de la fonction initiatique des concours olympiques déjà défendue avec force par Henri Jeanmaire, mais qui, pour le savant allemand, restait sous-jacente, l’initiation ayant été progressivement rejetée à l’arrière-plan par l’évolution des concours43. À tout le moins, le mois d’entraînement et d’abstinence imposé aux athlètes pouvait évoquer le temps de marginalité des rites initiatiques, les festins célébrant la fin des concours et la fin de la trêve permettant ensuite aux sportifs de réintégrer le temps ordinaire44.

18 Inévitablement conjecturale, cette reconstruction du sens primitif de la course olympique n’a pas manqué de susciter quelques remises en cause ; les critiques se sont portées principalement sur l’emplacement du stade primitif et sur l’ancienneté du lien des concours avec le mythe de Pélops. Ainsi, les explorations archéologiques d’Alfred Mallwitz ont démontré que le stade n’avait pas changé de place au moins depuis le début du VIIe siècle, ce qui, sans l’interdire totalement, fragilise l’idée que la course primitive aboutît à l’autel de Zeus ; selon le même savant, le Pélopion ne serait pas antérieur à 700 av. J.-C45. Encore une fois, il peut être dangereux de prendre Philostrate pour un historien… Ce n’est pas que son aition soit sans valeur, bien au contraire : il en dit long sur l’imaginaire attaché à cette épreuve sportive ; mais ce n’est pas un document sur le premier siècle de l’olympisme, dont il faut bien admettre qu’on ne sait pas grand chose.

19 La question initiatique peut, elle aussi, être soumise à la critique, d’autant que son application dans le domaine des sciences des religions antiques, voire le concept même d’initiation, ont été fortement remis en cause ces dernières années46. En ce qui concerne la course, cependant, nous sommes dans un domaine plus solide. Certes, on ne saurait démontrer que tous les concours de course à pied occupaient la fonction d’un rite de passage ; du moins convient-il de rappeler la fréquence des courses d’éphèbes dans le programme des fêtes civiques grecques, et le lien étroit de cette classe d’âge avec le dromos, une piste qui, dans bien des cités, était située sur l’agora ou à proximité immédiate47. C’est notamment le cas à Sparte, où, le dromos servait de cadre à plusieurs actes rituels ; selon Pausanias, les jeunes venaient s’y s’entraîner à la course, et lorsqu’ils quittaient le statut éphébique pour entrer dans la première étape de l’âge adulte, ils y sacrifiaient au dieu patron du dromos, Héraclès48. C’est probablement sur cette même piste que se déroulaient des courses de jeunes filles49 ainsi que la staphylodromie, une poursuite rituelle à laquelle prenaient part de jeunes célibataires lors de la grande fête des Carneia. Cette dernière, souvent analysée comme le terme de l’ agôgé spartiate, était en effet consacrée à un dieu — Apollon Carneios — logé tout près du dromos, et comprenait en outre des compétitions gymniques dont le programme

Kernos, 27 | 2014 14

donnait la prépondérance aux épreuves de courses50. Enfin, le cas le plus explicite par son vocabulaire provient de Crète — pays propice à la course, selon le Platon des Lois51 —, où les jeunes étaient dits apodromoi et devaient attendre la fin de leur agela pour prétendre au titre de dromeus, qui désignait les hommes faits, et avoir ainsi accès au dromos ; le verbe ἐγδραμεῖν avait d’ailleurs reçu un sens technique dénotant le rite de fin d’initiation52.

20 Les dossiers spartiates et crétois sont d’autant plus précieux qu’ils constituent sans doute les exemples les plus nets et les moins contestés de rites de passages en Grèce ancienne53. Mis bout à bout, ils ne laissent subsister guère de doutes sur l’existence d’un lien consubstantiel entre la course à pied et les initiations de classes d’âge en pays dorien. Doit-on voir dans ces rites éphébiques la clef du symbolisme de la course dans le domaine guerrier ? Je dirai plutôt qu’il faut retourner le raisonnement. On l’a souvent montré, les valeurs éphébiques sont des valeurs inverses de celles du citoyen-soldat, et toute une série de rites, notamment de travestissement, mettent en scène l’inversion que constitue ce passage. Mais les exemples dont nous disposons semblent bien faire de la course un rite de sortie, que ce soit aux Oschophories athéniennes, aux Carneia doriennes et plus encore en Crète où c’est bien l’homme adulte qui est appelé dromeus, et non l’éphèbe54. Dans ce contexte, si la course fait office de frontière entre monde adolescent et monde adulte, guerrier, c’est à ce dernier que ses valeurs appartiennent. J’en trouve confirmation dans le nom d’un rite macédonien, les diadromai, consistant en des courses et des simulacres de combats, et dont la fin, semble-t-il, était d’intégrer à l’armée les jeunes gens qui avaient déjà terminé leur éducation55. La conclusion s’impose : l’usage de la course comme rite de passage tient à ses connotations viriles56et guerrières, et non l’inverse.

21 Au final, ce premier examen des contextes religieux de la course nous permet de confirmer le lien qu’elle entretient avec le monde de l’homme fait et du guerrier, sans toutefois l’expliquer véritablement. On notera également que, dans les pratiques sociales comme dans le discours étiologique d’un Philostrate, elle apparaît comme un acte empreint de ritualité — donc un acte efficace per se — et chargé d’une certaine antiquité. Une course pouvait modifier le statut d’un coureur ; une victoire olympique à la course pouvait même lui obtenir le statut de héros cultuel : c’est ce que vont montrer les exemples suivants.

Coroibos, Orrhippos et Oibotas : trois coureurs cultuels

22 Du tout premier vainqueur olympique, nous ne savons pas grand chose. Nommé Coroibos, d’ethnique éléenne, il n’avait pas obtenu de statue dans l’enceinte olympique — la coutume n’en existant pas encore57. Des quelques bribes d’informations que nous fournissent de tardifs antiquaires, nous apprenons qu’il était également mageiros et que son tombeau se trouvait à la frontière entre l’Élide et l’Arcadie, à proximité de la cité d’Héraia58. Le premier point a attiré l’attention des sociologues du sport. Plutôt que voir en Coroibos un boucher professionnel de basse extraction, on a conclu qu’il fallait vraisemblablement donner à ce titre de mageiros toute sa signification rituelle de sacrificateur ; du même coup le premier coureur olympique était rattaché à la sphère du sacrifice, déjà mise en avant par l’aition de Philostrate 59. Quant à sa tombe

Kernos, 27 | 2014 15

frontalière, elle ne peut manquer d’évoquer ces sanctuaires de héros ou de dieux qui définissent les territoires civiques par leur position aux confins60.

23 Il est d’autant plus surprenant de constater qu’un autre Coroibos, remontant aux temps légendaires, avait fondé un sanctuaire dans une zone frontalière de la Mégaride ; quant à sa tombe, elle se trouvait sur l’agora de Mégare, signe d’héroïsation, et, de plus, une tradition partagée avec Argos en faisait le vainqueur d’un combat avec une puissance divine, Poinè (d’où s’étaient ensuivis, selon un schéma classique, fléau, oracle delphique et fondation de cultes). Pour Pausanias, l’effigie qui ornait le tombeau de ce Coroibos était la plus ancienne de toutes les statues en pierre qu’il avait pu voir61.

24 Entre ces deux Coroibos définisseurs de frontières, remontant tous deux aux débuts de l’histoire, le rapprochement est d’autant plus aisé à établir62 qu’il est favorisé par une tierce figure, elle aussi mégarienne, celle du coureur Orrhippos. Vainqueur du stade lors de la quinzième olympiade (720 av. J.-C.)63, cet Orrhippos se voyait attribuer, à l’instar de Coroibos, une « première », puisqu’on en faisait l’inventeur de la nudité sportive ; lui aussi avait contribué à définir le territoire de sa patrie, en conquérant des régions limitrophes. Les Mégariens lui érigèrent, sur injonction delphique, un tombeau au cœur de l’agora, qui voisinait avec celui du Coroibos mégarien ; une épigramme, conservée à la fois par la tradition littéraire et par l’épigraphie, y résumait ses mérites guerriers et sportifs64. On notera enfin que cet olympionice du VIIIe siècle ne pouvait sûrement pas figurer statufié dans l’Altis, d’où sans doute son absence des livres élidiens de Pausanias.

25 Les similitudes entre les trois personnages, telles que je les résume dans le tableau ci- dessous, sont de bons indices de leur caractère fictif. Figures évanescentes sur le plan historique, les premiers olympionices ont vraisemblablement emprunté leur biographie à des modèles légendaires, selon des processus propres à chacune de leurs cités, au point de recevoir, pour certains d’entre eux, un statut héroïque. En l’occurrence, il est permis de supposer que le Coroibos d’Élis n’est que l’historicisation locale d’un héros péloponnésien homonyme.

Coroibos d’Elis Coroibos de Mégare Orrhippos de Mégare

olympionice olympionice

premier vainqueur premier athlète nu

sans statue statue la plus ancienne de toutes sans statue

tombe à la frontière fonde sanctuaire à la frontière conquiert territoire à la frontière

tombe sur l’agora tombe sur l’agora

en raison d’un oracle en raison d’un oracle

26 Si le statut cultuel de Coroibos et d’Orrhippos demeure implicite dans nos sources et ne se déduit que de leurs biographies et de la position de leurs tombes, les choses sont plus nettes pour le cas d’Oibotas de Paleia. Vainqueur à la sixième Olympiade (756 av. J-C.), ce coureur fut le premier Achéen à remporter le stade, la compétition ayant jusqu’alors

Kernos, 27 | 2014 16

été dominée par les athlètes d’Élide et de Messénie65. Pas plus que ses prédécesseurs il n’avait été représenté en ronde-bosse, que ce soit à Olympie ou dans sa patrie, puisque ces pratiques n’apparurent que bien plus tard. Réinterprétée à la lumière de l’explosion statuaire qui caractérisa le sport grec à partir de la fin de l’archaïsme, cette absence fut sans doute le point de départ de la légende d’Oibotas. L’histoire se trouve dans la Périégèse : courroucé de n’avoir reçu aucun honneur de la part de ses concitoyens, l’olympionice aurait proféré une malédiction qui empêcha toute victoire achéenne pendant trois siècles. Quelques temps avant la quatre-vingtième Olympiade (460 av. J.- C.), à la suite d’un oracle delphique, les Achéens se résolurent à consacrer une statue de l’athlète à Olympie, accompagnée d’une épigramme, et, délivrés ipso facto de la malédiction, remportèrent la victoire au stade en la personne de Sostratos de Pallène. « Encore de mes jours, conclut Pausanias, les Achéens qui se disposent à concourir aux Olympia ont coutume d’offrir des sacrifices funéraires (ἐναγίζειν) à Oibotas et, s’ils l’emportent, de couronner la statue d’Oibotas à Olympie »66. Indice sans équivoque d’un culte, ces enagismata étaient très probablement effectués sur le monument funéraire de l’athlète, situé à Paleia, dans la chôra de Dymé ; c’est d’ailleurs lors de son passage à Dymé que Pausanias nous rapporte cette histoire, qu’il devait tenir d’exégètes locaux67.

27 Si l’on peut ranger l’histoire d’Oibotas au rang de légende, c’est parce qu’elle semble avoir pour principale fonction de justifier la confection a posteriori d’une statue pour un athlète disparu depuis des siècles ; et, surtout, parce que cette terrible malédiction d’Oibotas n’est que pure invention. Entre l’olympiade d’Oibotas et celle de Sostratos, ce ne sont pas moins de trois Achéens qui remportèrent la couronne d’olivier : Icaros d’Hyperésia, vainqueur du stade en 688, Phanas de Pellène, vainqueur le même jour du stade, du diaule et de la course armée, en 512, ce qui fit de lui le premier triastès de l’histoire68, et Pataicos de Dymé, pour l’épreuve éphémère du trot, en 49669. Cette dernière victoire nous fournit d’ailleurs un terminus post quem pour l’invention du motif de la malédiction, qu’on peut tenter de croiser avec le terminus ante quem que constitue la victoire de Sostratos70.

28 Puisque les Achéens avaient honoré rétroactivement leur proto-olympionice par une statue olympique, le Périégète avait pu la mentionner lors de sa visite de l’Altis ; il rapporte à cette occasion un curieux détail supplémentaire de la légende d’Oibotas : selon les Achéens, l’athlète aurait combattu dans les rangs des Grecs à la bataille de Platées71. Perplexe devant cet anachronisme évident (d’autant que, d’après Hérodote, aucun Achéen n’avait participé à cette bataille72), Pausanias fait le choix de refuser en bloc cette tradition. Il y aurait pourtant un moyen de la rendre acceptable : en faire une épiphanie héroïque, comme on en connaît tant pour les guerres médiques73. Une apparition miraculeuse du héros Oibotas en 479 av. J.-C. concorderait parfaitement avec la date de l’érection de sa statue, qu’il faut vraisemblablement situer entre 496 et 460. Sans doute doit-on situer l’héroïsation d’Orrhippos dans la même période, puisque l’épigramme qui fut gravée sur son tombeau est attribuée à Simonide74.

29 Les héroïsations tardives de ces coureurs des premiers temps de l’olympisme permettent de les rattacher à tout un groupe d’olympionices, parfaitement historiques et bien mieux connus, qui reçurent des honneurs divins ou héroïques entre la fin du VIe et la première moitié du Ve siècle75. Pour la plupart de ces personnages, le culte s’est accompagné de quelques traits biographiques tenant davantage de la légende que de l’histoire, et organisés suivant un schéma récurrent, qu’on peut résumer ainsi : d’une force surhumaine qui se manifeste par des exploits spectaculaires, l’athlète remporte la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 17

victoire olympique mais, victime d’une injustice de la part des hellanodices ou de ses concitoyens, il ne reçoit pas les honneurs dus. Sa colère provoque une catastrophe pour sa cité, et lui-même ou sa statue disparaît de manière mystérieuse ; la résolution de la crise passe, comme de juste, par un oracle delphique et par l’instauration d’un culte qui apaise enfin la colère du nouveau dieu ou héros. À cela peuvent s’ajouter des motifs secondaires, tels que la paternité divine de l’athlète ou les pouvoirs miraculeux de sa statue76.

30 On voit combien facilement l’histoire d’Oibotas se fond dans ce schéma : privé d’honneurs — c’est-à-dire, sans doute, de sa statue — l’athlète exerce sa vengeance dans le domaine olympique non seulement sur sa cité, mais sur toute l’Achaïe, jusqu’à ce qu’un oracle et un culte viennent concilier le héros et inverser son action : à l’absence de statue, facteur de malédiction, s’oppose dès lors la présence bénéfique de la statue olympique, que les Achéens couronnaient à chaque nouvelle victoire77. Bref, tout porte à croire qu’entre 496 et 460, Oibotas obtint non seulement une statue et un culte mais également une biographie, et que cette dernière fut confectionnée sur le même modèle que celui qui servit à mythifier la vie et les exploits d’authentiques champions du début de l’époque classique.

31 De fait, si l’on retrouve ce schéma pour d’autres athlètes d’autres époques, ce n’est qu’entre la fin du VIe siècle et la fin du Ve qu’il entraîne la création d’honneurs cultuels. Pour tenter de rendre compte de cette synchronie, plusieurs savants ont insisté sur l’inscription historique de ces nouveaux cultes78 : c’est l’époque des grandes épinicies, un âge d’or de l’agonistique grecque, qui coïncide avec une période de transition et de modification des équilibres socio-politiques au sein des cités grecques. La disparition progressive des grandes tyrannies du VIe siècle, les changements militaires consécutifs aux guerres médiques, l’extension du modèle démocratique s’unissent pour créer un contexte civique en mouvement perpétuel, dans lequel le rapport de la cité à ses élites devient extrêmement ambigu. Issu de familles renommées, faisant lui-même partie de ces élites et incarnant par son succès un charisme exceptionnel, le champion sportif exprime dans le domaine sportif une aretè qui serait potentiellement dangereuse si elle s’exprimait dans les domaines militaires ou politiques. L’aura de victoire qui l’entoure, ou kudos, doit être réintégrée dans la cité à travers ce que Leslie Kurke a appelé un traffic in praise sous peine de rupture d’équilibre79 ; si ce n’est pas le cas, soit que le kudos soit surabondant, soit que les honneurs adéquats ne lui soient pas rendus, l’instauration du culte paraît le moyen idoine à rétablir le fonctionnement de cette économie du kudos80, tenant à la fois l’athlète charismatique à distance de la communauté, rendant justice à son charisme, mais permettant également à la cité de s’accaparer son kudos sans danger pour elle-même. Ce dernier point nous permet également de rajouter un facteur déclenchant essentiel à ces phénomènes de déification ou héroïsation : ils interviennent souvent, semble-t-il, au moment où leur cité, en situation de crise, éprouve le besoin de se parer d’une figure charismatique et de récupérer son aura de victoire pour surmonter l’épreuve81. De par sa carrière militaire et son rôle territorial, de par son voisinage également avec le héros Coroibos, l’olympionice Orrhippos a pu apporter sa protection à Mégare à une époque où Corinthe lui contestait des régions frontalières, dans le deuxième quart du Ve siècle82. Quant à Oibotas, dont le culte est explicitement pan-achéen, j’ai suggéré ailleurs d’inscrire son héroïsation dans le double cadre de la formation du koinon achéen et de la seconde guerre médique : l’absence des Achéens à la bataille de Platées (ou leur

Kernos, 27 | 2014 18

retard, selon la version plus clémente de Pausanias) avait été remarquée83 et, à l’heure où les vainqueurs gravaient fièrement leur nom sur la colonne delphique et discutaient du sort des médisants, il fallait bien une sorte de deus ex machina qui vînt résoudre cette situation de crise. L’épiphanie du nouvel héros Oibotas compensait ainsi l’absence collective des Achéens84.

32 Il existait d’ailleurs un précédent plus historique à cette apparition miraculeuse : alors que les cités de Grande-Grèce s’étaient massivement abstenues lors de la seconde guerre médique, un athlète de Crotone, Phayllos, triple pythionice au pentathlon et au stade, avait armé à ses propres frais un navire et rejoint la flotte grecque à Salamine ; ses exploits sportifs et militaires figuraient d’ailleurs conjointement sur la dédicace accompagnant l’offrande qu’il déposa sur l’Acropole athénienne. Si dans l’immédiat cet acte individuel ne suffit pas à faire graver le nom de Crotone sur la colonne de Platées, l’aura de Phayllos, par une saine économie du kudos, rejaillit sur sa patrie, rapidement associée à son haut fait par la postérité85.

33 En somme, les coureurs héroïsés que nous venons d’étudier (auxquels on pourrait joindre Phayllos de Crotone) semblent avoir été sollicités en des périodes de conflits armés où l’on comptait sur leurs vertus victorieuses. On voit mal, toutefois, ce que leur qualité de sprinteur pouvait leur apportait de spécifique en cette occasion86. Aussi s’agit-il sans doute d’une limitation du schéma d’analyse que nous avons suivi jusqu’ici, qui articule une prédisposition générale des athlètes à l’héroïsation (en raison de l’aretè investie avec succès dans les concours, et qui fait de l’athlète un personnage à la fois charismatique et quelque peu tabou, répandant tour à tour prestige et fléau sur sa cité) avec des facteurs déclencheurs historiquement spécifiés (c’est à dire une situation politique où la communauté éprouve le besoin de récupérer ce kudos athlétique tout en maintenant l’athlète à distance). Car, à parler de la sorte, on court le risque de passer à côté de ce qui est spécifiquement athlétique dans ce processus d’héroïsation87 ; en particulier, on ne rend pas compte de la position inégale des différentes disciplines olympiques. Or, malgré la popularité bien connue des compétitions hippiques, et particulièrement de la course de chars, première épreuve des Olympia, malgré le faste que lui ont apporté les épinicies de Pindare et de Bacchylide, on ne connaît aucun vainqueur au quadrige, ou de quelconque épreuve hippique, qui ait fait l’objet d’un culte88. Ce dernier ne semble donc se concevoir que par l’intermédiaire du corps de l’athlète, dans le cadre d’un effort brut, voire excessif. Et de fait, sur la petite douzaine d’athlètes héroïsés ou divinisés que l’on connaît, la plupart proviennent de deux disciplines lourdes, le pugilat et le pancrace89. Les coureurs ne sont que deux — trois si l’on rajoute Coroibos d’Élis — et pour chacun d’entre eux il s’agit de l’héroïsation tardive d’un athlète remontant aux premiers temps de l’athlétisme et lui-même novateur (premier coureur, premier vainqueur achéen, premier coureur nu90).

34 Pourquoi un tel décalage chronologique pour les coureurs seulement ? Pour les cités et ethnè qui ne disposaient pas d’autre olympionice à vénérer (ce qui n’était pas le cas des Achéens, ni même de Dymé), nous pouvons supposer qu’il était pratique d’avoir recours à des athlètes oubliés dont on pouvait aisément réécrire l’histoire, l’absence de statue olympique à cette époque fournissant alors le motif des honneurs oubliés. Dès lors qu’on recherchait un athlète des premières olympiades, on ne pouvait avoir affaire qu’à un sprinteur. Je présenterai pourtant deux objections à cette explication. La lutte est apparue dès la dix-huitième olympiade (708 av. J-C.) et le pugilat à la vingt-quatrième (688 av. J.-C.), soit une génération seulement après la victoire d’Orrhippos. Il était

Kernos, 27 | 2014 19

sûrement possible de répéter la même opération héroïsante avec les premiers vainqueurs des épreuves lourdes, guère plus connus qu’Oibotas ou Orrhippos ; on le ne fit pas. D’autre part, cela n’explique pas qu’aucun coureur d’époque classique n’ait fait l’objet d’un culte à une époque où l’on en accordait à ses collègues pugilistes et pancratiastes. À chaque fois qu’on a honoré un coureur, il a semblé nécessaire de le renvoyer dans des temps primitifs, comme si les valeurs connotées par la course avaient besoin de la caution d’une grande antiquité et ne pouvaient trouver place sans médiation dans l’idéologie de l’époque classique. Nous retrouvons là des conclusions déjà atteintes précédemment.

35 Autre question : qu’a de commun la course à pied avec des épreuves dont elle semble l’antithèse, épreuves lourdes où les arbitres veillent à ce qu’on ne s’enfuie pas et qu’on attende l’adversaire de pied ferme91 ? Que le pugilat et le pancrace aient particulièrement contribué à donner un statut cultuel à ceux qui les pratiquaient, au fond, cela se conçoit assez bien. Il s’agit là de sports où la violence était acceptée, où les coups et les blessures pouvaient entraîner jusqu’à la mort de l’adversaire92 — en somme, quasiment une épreuve de force pure, de démonstration de la biè. Le nom même du pancrace, παγκράτιον, désigne bien la « supériorité complète » du vainqueur de l’épreuve. À partir des vies de Cléomèdès, d’Euthymos, de Théogénès ou de Pouludamas, on décèle aisément le modèle qui court en filigrane derrière ces champions : Héraclès, la Biè Heracleiè, l’inventeur des concours olympiques, que les sources mythologiques nous montrent souvent victorieux du pancrace93. La chose est désormais bien étudiée : il existe tout un réseau de représentations autour des notions de force pure, de violence meurtrière, qui associe les champions de boxe et de pancrace à l’Alcide et à quelques autres figures, leur conférant une sacralité aux connotations autant positives que négatives94. Que vient faire la course à pied dans ce contexte ?

36 Pour répondre à ces questions, j’a-urais à nouveau recours à la notion de modèle mythologique : de même que la figure d’Héraclès semble être le fil conducteur du portrait de certains boxeurs et pancratistes, derrière le coureur, que ce soit à la guerre ou à Olympie, il est difficile de ne pas évoquer Achille aux pieds légers. À étudier ce que signifient ces pieds légers et la notion de vitesse dans les poèmes homériques, on voir se déployer bien des connotations attachées à l’imaginaire de la course.

Courir et voler dans les poèmes homériques

37 Assurément, il n’y a rien d’original à voir en Achille un modèle des champions de course à pied95 ; bien avant nous, Pausanias avait avancé cette hypothèse en racontant les exploits de Théogénès. Le fameux champion thasien, participant aux concours de Phthia, en Thessalie, avais commis l’originalité de négliger le pugilat et le pancrace, ses disciplines habituelles, pour courir — et remporter ! — le dolichos, la course de fond d’une vingtaine de stades. Pausanias tient une explication toute prête, que j’adopterais volontiers : « c’était, je crois, par émulation envers Achille qu’il souhaitait remporter une victoire à la course dans la patrie du plus rapide de ceux qu’on appelle les héros »96.

38 À Olympie également, le Péléide demeure un coureur : avec Héraclès, il patronne le dromos d’Élis près duquel se trouvait son cénotaphe ; les femmes éléennes y venaient effectuer des lamentations rituelles la veille des Olympia. En cet Achille au dromos se renouent fil athlétique et fil initiatique, comme le montre également le sacrificeque les éphèbes spartiates lui offraient avant le combat du Platanistas97.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 20

39 Contemplons donc Achille, tout à la fois le plus fort et le plus rapide des Achéens. Ce héros empli de biè est un parangon de vitesse, ce qui lui vaut les épithètes de ποδώκης et de ποδάρκης. À vrai dire, il semblerait précisément que ce soit sa force surhumaine qui se manifeste dans l’extrême agilité de ses pieds98. Prenons par exemple le terme ποδάρκης ; il n’est pas fréquent ; aussi vaut-il la peine de rappeler, après Gregory Nagy, que c’est le nom du fils d’Iphiclos, autre prince thessalien à la rapidité légendaire et qui a droit à l’épithète de ποδώκης ainsi qu’au privilège, très parcimonieusement décerné, de se faire appeler Biè Iphicleiè99. Autre exemple homérique, Areithoos, héros béotien de la génération d’avant Nestor, contracte en son nom même, « rapide par Arès », les valeurs de la vitesse et de la guerre. On n’en regrette que davantage de ne pas connaître les exploits qui justifiaient ce nom ; tout ce qu’on en peut dire, c’est que, combattant primitif, armé de sa lourde massue de fer, il se révèle être, selon l’expression de Nagy, un de ces héros de biè, un représentant de la force100. En somme, pour Achille et pour ces héros pré-iliadiques, la puissance physique se distribue indifféremment dans la rapidité comme dans la valeur guerrière101.

40 Sans doute Gregory Nagy a-t-il raison de voir là un héritage indo-européen ; derrière Achille, Iphiclos et Areithoos transparaissent les figures indiennes de Vayu, dieu vent, patron des compagnies de guerriers, et surtout de Bhima, héros plein de force, voire de brutalité, et rapide comme les vents102. Reste à déterminer ce qui est resté de cet héritage, et les inflexions qu’il a subies au cours d’un millénaire de guerres grecques et de concours olympiques. L’association de la force aux vents, par exemple, s’est faite plus discrète mais peut encore parfaitement se lire dans l’Iliade : ces éléments sont eux aussi dotés d’une biè (l’expression βίας ἀνέμων semble d’ailleurs formulaire)103 qui se manifeste notamment par leur rapidité. Transmise à leur progéniture, cette puissance véloce permet d’établir tout un réseau d’équivalence entre des créatures relevant de règnes distincts et dont la fabuleuse rapidité s’exprime par des images comparables. Ainsi Zéphyr, le plus vite d’entre les vents, s’est uni à la Harpye Podargé pour engendrer les invincibles chevaux d’Achille, Zanthos et Balios104. De Borée également sont nés des chevaux, lorsque le dieu se prit d’amour pour les juments d’Érichthonios : leurs rejetons pouvaient galoper sur la pointe des flots et, sur terre, effleuraient à peine le sommet des épis de blé105. Autres enfants de Borée, Zétès et Calaïs, qu’on appelle communément les Boréades, étaient dotés d’ailes, et c’est sans surprise qu’on apprend qu’ils avaient remporté les épreuves de course à plusieurs concours106.

41 Il est ainsi possible de déterminer un ensemble de figures épiques qui partagent quelques caractéristiques bien particulières, dessinant une espèce d’archétype de la rapidité personnifiée : un lien avec la force brute, quasi cosmique, que décrivent les termes βίη et ἴς ; des pieds agiles ou légers ; le port d’ailes aux chevilles, au dos ou aux tempes107 ; une course si légère qu’elle permet de glisser sur la terre comme sur la mer sans laisser de traces et que désigne généralement le verbe θέειν et ses dérivés108. Ces figures sont les Vents, les chevaux par eux engendrés109, d’autres figures divines telles qu’Iris, dont les épithètes sont podénémos, « aux pieds de vent » ou aellopos, « aux pieds de tempête »110, parfois même des navires111, et, parmi les humains, des héros exceptionnels tels les Boréades, les Argonautes Iphiclos et Euphémos112, et bien sûr Achille, qui, de surcroit, possède les chevaux les plus rapides du camp achéen113.

42 Entre tous ces parangons de rapidité, les jeux de comparaisons, de substitution et de métaphores abondent, dans un incessant renchérissement de la tradition épique sur son modèle initial. Pour Apollonios de Rhodes, c’est Euphémos de Sparte qui tient le

Kernos, 27 | 2014 21

rôle du héros aux pieds légers114 ; pratiquant cette « course sur les pointes » qui lui permet de voler sur la surface des flots, il est logiquement décrit comme le ποδωκηέστατος d’entre tous les Argonautes — un rôle que d’autres traditions attribuaient à Iphiclos. Mais dans ce poème où la rapidité est un trait partagé par bien des héros, et jusqu’au navire lui-même115, l’exemple le plus riche en images est peut-être fourni par l’épisode des Harpyes, qui concentre dans un saisissant concours de vitesse la plupart des figures et des thèmes évoqués116. Entre ces monstres génitrices de chevaux, dont la rapidité égale celle de l’éclair ou dépasse les bourrasques de Zéphyr, les fils de Borée, qui se ruent à leur poursuite, tels des chiens de chasse, et qui, portés par leurs ailes, font jeu égal avec elles, et la rapide Iris, qui met fin à la poursuite, on ne sait qui va le plus vite, et qui sert de modèle aux autres. Pour le dire en termes rhétoriques, on voit bien que chacune de ces figures, situées sur un même axe paradigmatique, pourrait être le comparant des autres. Il en va de même pour les épopées postérieures, où les inévitables concours funéraires, avec leurs courses de char et leurs courses à pied, donnent lieu à des images désormais canoniques, faisant intervenir des chevaux fils de Borée, des sprinteurs aussi rapides que le zéphyr ou dépassant les cavales à la course, des biges laissant les vents derrière eux et volant si vite sur la plaine qu’ils n’impriment aucune trace sur le sol117.

43 On notera cependant qu’en reprenant ces thèmes homériques, les auteurs épiques des époques hellénistique et romaine les détachent de leur sens originel et, à quelques nuances près, ne connectent plus les images de la rapidité avec celle de l’excellence militaire. Au fond, le meilleur des Argonautes, ce n’est ni Iphiclos, ni Euphémos, ni l’un des Boréades, mais Jason.

44 Revenons donc aux textes homériques, où la vélocité se fait clairement la compagne de la vaillance. Il est alors frappant de voir tous ces thèmes converger vers ce qui constitue peut-être le clou de l’Iliade, le récit tant différé, tant attendu, de l’aristeia d’Achille et de son combat contre Hector. Dès le moment où le fils de Pélée revêt ses armes, « ce sont comme des ailes qui lui poussent alors et soulèvent le pasteur d’hommes »118 ; dès lors les verbes de mouvement se multiplient, accompagnés d’un déchaînement de tous les éléments, vents en premier. Et quand on en vient à la rencontre avec le meilleur des Troyens, celui qui avait coutume de courir bien en avant des autres (προθέειν)119, ce n’est pas un duel armé que décrit le poète, mais une course : Hector, pris de tremblements, n’a plus l’audace de rester (μένειν) à son poste et s’enfuit ; Achille aussitôt le poursuit (διώκειν)120. Tel un cheval vainqueur, ἀεθλοφόρος, l’Achéen s’élance121 ; de nouveau il vole (πέτετο, employé deux fois122) pour couper la route à Hector ; les deux, courant de conserve (comme le montre l’emploi du duel παραδραμέτην), « ne luttent pas pour une victime, une peau de bœuf, qui sont les prix qu’obtiennent les pieds des hommes » (ἅ τε ποσσὶν ἀέθλια γίνεται ἀνδρῶν) mais pour une sorte d’aethlon suprême, la vie d’Hector 123. Et dès le vers suivant, une nouvelle comparaison agonistique prend le relais : les voici des chevaux aethlophoroi qui contournent la borne « car un grand prix les attend, un trépied ou une femme ». Ce concours de vitesse avait lieu devant des spectateurs de choix, l’assemblée des dieux124.

45 En choisissant la course comme clef de lecture du chant XXII de l’Iliade, on en vient donc à dégager la récurrence de thèmes attachés à la vitesse, avec ses connotations agonistiques, dans ce qui devait être le combat de force par excellence. Il est clair que cette course se fonde sur une opposition très sensible entre poursuivre et fuir, entre διώκειν et φεύγειν, qui semble plus de mise dans le domaine de la cynégétique qu’au

Kernos, 27 | 2014 22

cœur de l’action hoplitique125. De fait, lorsqu’on retrouve cette opposition à l’époque classique, c’est sous la plume d’un auteur tel que Xénophon, dans ses traités sur l’Art de la chasse, l’Art équestre, et sur le Commandant de cavalerie126! Au IVe siècle, ces images de poursuite et de fuite semblent donc devoir être confinées au monde équestre ou à celui de la chasse, et si Xénophon entend redonner leurs lettres de noblesse à ces pratiques et valoriser leur apport guerrier, le fait est qu’il se plaint du peu d’intérêt qu’on leur accorde…

46 Il peut alors être intéressant de remarquer que cette conjonction en Achille de la vitesse et de la valeur militaire est encore lisible sur quelques peintures de vases de la fin de l’époque archaïque et du début de l’époque classique. Plusieurs peintres se sont en effet attachés à traduire en images la prodigieuse rapidité du Péléide. Il se peut qu’une célèbre amphore provenant du groupe de Léagros le représente, sous la forme d’un guerrier ailé, volant au dessus de la mer et d’un navire — ou plutôt, courant, puisqu’il est figuré dans la position dite de la « course agenouillée » (Fig. 1) : nous retrouvons là quelques uns des thèmes explorés127. Mais la solution la plus simple et la plus fréquemment utilisée par les peintres consiste à juxtaposer sa course avec celle de chevaux, tout en signalant que la comparaison équestre tourne à l’avantage de l’humain ; et c’est ce qu’on observe sur un motif qui connut un certain succès dans l’iconographie athénienne des VIe et Ve siècles, le meurtre de Troilos par Achille. Peu évoqué par les sources littéraires, qui en font d’ailleurs un traitement un peu différent128, cet épisode figure sur plus d’une centaine de poteries athéniennes, à commencer par le fameux vase François, et se décline en trois types : l’embuscade d’Achille à la fontaine, la poursuite proprement dite, et le meurtre sauvage de Troilos près d’un autel129. Sur le second de ces types apparaissent régulièrement les mêmes éléments : au centre, deux chevaux côte à côte s’enfuyant au grand galop, l’un d’entre eux monté par un Troilos adolescent ; à côté, Achille, bondissant après lui, la lance ou l’épée brandie ; et souvent, de l’autre côté, Polyxène courant vers Troie130. Il ne fait donc aucun doute que le coureur rattrape le cavalier, d’autant que le peintre précise parfois son idée en représentant la jambe avant de l’Achéen au même niveau que la queue ou les jambes arrière des chevaux ; et sur toute une série d’images Achille tient déjà d’une main les cheveux de Troilos, qui finira décapité (Fig. 2). Sur quelques unes d’entre elles, la présence d’un pégase comme épisème d’Achille vient réactiver l’idée du vol ailé131.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 23

Figure 1

Achille volant vers l’île des Bienheureux ? Amphore attique à ﬁgures noires, vers 500 av. J.-C., groupe de Leagros, British Museum 1848,0619.2 (=B240). © Trustees of the British Museum.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 24

Figure 2

Achille poursuivant Troilos. Péliké attique à ﬁgures rouges, vers 475-450 av. J.‑C., Peintre du Louvre G231, Musée du Louvre, G231. © Musée du Louvre, Dist. RMN-Grand Palais / les frères Chuzeville.

47 Certes, il s’agit d’une embuscade, d’un épisode rusé qui conduit à un combat déséquilibré. Là encore, nous sommes très près du domaine de la chasse — et la présence de chiens ou de lièvres dans le champ ne fait que renforcer cette connotation132. Quand on en vient à représenter le duel final de l’Iliade, la course disparaît la plupart du temps133, le duel se fait statique, et déjà Hector s’effondre blessé à mort. Toutefois, sur une série de vases provenant du groupe de Léagros134, la scène se décale légèrement sur le plan narratif, se focalisant désormais sur le cadavre d’Hector trainé par le char de son vainqueur. L’histoire est bien connue, mais l’iconographie y ajoute ses propres données, concentrant le maximum de sens en une seule image. On y voit ainsi l’eidôlon de Patrocle, et parfois sa tombe, une déesse ailée accourant à la rencontre de l’attelage, et surtout, un Achille non pas sur son char, mais, plusieurs fois, courant à ses côtés. Le héros bondissant est de nouveau représenté comme faisant jeu égal avec son attelage au galop, la jambe avant parfois confondue avec celles des chevaux, dans une impression de mouvement éventuellement redoublée par l’épisème de son bouclier, en forme de triskèle ou de fauve en mouvement (Fig. 3)135. Cette course d’Achille, complètement superflue sur le plan narratif, prend sens dès lors qu’on lui donne pour fonction de connoter la vélocité du héros : la victoire d’Achille, son triomphe sur Hector, s’expriment dans une manifestation de vitesse qui rappelle l’union indéfectible entre la valeur militaire de l’Achéen et la légèreté de ses pieds.

Figure 3

Achille courant entre la tombe de Patrocle et son char, auquel est attaché le cadavre d’Hector. Amphore attique à ﬁgures noires, vers 520-500 av. J.-C., groupe de Leagros, British Museum 1842,0314.2 (=B239). © Trustees of the British Museum.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 25

Voler à la victoire

48 Ce que nous apprend donc le modèle achilléen, c’est qu’il existe une antique association entre puissance guerrière et vitesse, et qu’elle se manifeste par tout un réseau d’images, un jeu d’équivalence entre le héros rapide, le cheval, l’animal chasseur ou chassé, le vent, et toutes sortes de divinités ailées. Si ces images ont été incessamment reprises et retravaillées par les imitateurs d’Homère au sein du genre épique, on ne saurait les résumer, même aux époques tardives, à de simples topoi littéraires. Au contraire, elles semblent avoir imprégné en profondeur les mentalités, alors même que leur pertinence militaire semblait décroître, et ne s’être nullement cantonné à l’épopée. Le monde de l’athlétisme, en particulier, semble les avoir parfaitement absorbées et développées.

49 Prenons ainsi l’idée du courir qui est un voler — certes peu originale en soi — dont nous avons vu la persistance dans la peinture de vase de la fin de l’archaïsme, voire dans l’œuvre de Xénophon. Près d’un millénaire après la composition de l’Iliade, l’érudit Philostrate, décrivant dans son traité sur le sport les techniques des différents types de coureurs, affirmait que ceux qui se spécialisaient dans le stade accéléraient leur course par le mouvement de leurs bras, « comme si c’étaient des ailes »136. Revoici l’image de l’Achille volant ! Ce traité qui se veut scientifique porte en réalité les marques de la pensée mythique.

50 De même, le Péloponnésien Ladas, olympionice au dolichos vers le milieu du Ve siècle, fit l’objet d’une très célèbre statue de Myron, que vinrent commenter plusieurs épigrammes de date inconnue ; d’après ces ekphraseis, l’athlète y semblait vivant, en équilibre sur la pointe des pieds, emporté par le vent137. Ce Ladas était, selon Pausanias, le plus rapide coureur de son temps, et son statut apparaît quasi-cultuel : soudainement malade après sa victoire olympique, il mourut sur le chemin du retour, près de Sparte, où il fut enterré ; sa disparition en pleine gloire lui valut une statue dans le temple argien d’Apollon Lycos, situé tout contre le dromos, ce qui n’est pas sans évoquer la position d’Achille à Élis138. Un second Ladas, un Achéen d’Aigion, vainqueur au stade à la cent-vingt-cinquième olympiade (280 av. J.-C.) et vedette incontestée des sprinteurs, fut également le laudandus d’une épigramme, qui proclamait139 : τὸ στάδιον Λάδας εἴθ᾽ ἤλατο, εἴτε διέπτη, οὐδὲ φράσαι δυνατόν · δαιμόνιον τὸ τάχος · ὁ ψοφὸς ἦ ὕσπληγος ἐν οὔασι καὶ στεφανοῦτο Λάδας καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι δάκτυλον οὐ προέβαν Ladas a-t-il couru ou survolé le stade ? Impossible à dire. Divine vitesse ! Le bruit de la barrière était encore dans les oreilles qu’on couronnait déjà Ladas Et les autres concurrents n’avaient pas avancé d’un pouce.

51 Cette épigramme, qui fut suffisamment célèbre pour être parodiée par Lucilius140, n’est qu’un élément de la légende qui se développa autour de Ladas. Un autre élément transmis par Solin rapportait que le sprinteur, quand il courait, ne laissait aucune empreinte sur le sable de la piste ; Catulle, pour sa part, l’englobait dans une liste qui comprenait des figures désormais bien connues, de Pégase aux Boréades, en passant par les cavales de Rhésos ou Persée aux talons ailés141. Ainsi se réunissent autour de ces deux Ladas, que la tradition semble avoir parfois confondus142, tous les thèmes homériques de la rapidité : le vent, les ailes, et cette course « sur les pointes », ἐπ᾽

Kernos, 27 | 2014 26

ἀκροτάτῳ, qui désigne la légèreté extrême du coureur, cette capacité à ne laisser quasiment aucune trace de son passage143. D’Achille à Ladas d’Aigion, ce sont donc les mêmes représentations qui s’attachent à la figure du coureur. Cela dit, l’épigramme en l’honneur de Ladas nous permet peut-être de pousser un peu plus loin l’analyse de ces représentations. Les deux derniers vers créent une saisissante ellipse temporelle qui semble transformer ses concurrents en statue144 ; l’arrivée du coureur est contemporaine de son départ ; il est ici et là dans le même temps. La distance et le temps semblent abolis par la course. L’anecdote de Solin ne dit pas autre chose : le sable n’a même pas le temps de retomber que Ladas est déjà passé. Si le sable, les flots, les épis des champs ne portent pas l’empreinte du coureur, c’est parce que la course nie radicalement l’espace auquel ils appartiennent, un espace du passage, pour ne retenir que les pôles de départ et d’arrivée.

52 Cette idée, on la retrouve explicitée par deux passages de Lucien, l’un sur le mode comique — et l’imitation de l’épigramme me paraît patente —, l’autre sur un mode plus sérieux et se voulant théorique. Commençons par la satire : dans le Timon, Ploutos explique à Hermès que sa rapidité est entièrement dépendante du type d’ordre qu’il a à exécuter. Si Zeus lui demande d’apporter la richesse, il est lent et traîne la patte. Mais s’il lui est demandé de l’ôter à quelqu’un, les ailes lui poussent, il est plus rapide que les songes145 : … ἅμα γοῦν ἔπεσεν ἡ ὕσπληξ, κἀγὼ ἤδη ἀνακηρύττομαι νενικηκώς, ὑπερπηδήσας τὸ στάδιον οὐδὲ ἰδόντων ἐνίοτε τῶν θεατῶν. … la barrière n’est pas tombée que je suis déjà proclamé vainqueur, ayant franchi d’un bond tout le stade sans qu’aucun des spectateurs n’ait jamais le temps de rien voir.

53 Et voici maintenant la version théorique, qui rappelle Philostrate par sa volonté de rationaliser une image issue de la mythologie146 : … κἀκεῖ γὰρ ὁ μὲν ἀγαθὸς δρομεὺς τῆς ὕσπληγγος εὐθὺς καταπεσούσης μόνον τοῦ πρόσω ἐφιέμενος καὶ τὴν διάνοιαν ἀποτείνας πρὸς τὸ τέρμα κἀν τοῖς ποσὶ τὴν ἐλπίδα τῆς νίκης ἔχων (…) … car le bon coureur, à peine la barrière tombée, ne s’attache qu’à ce qui est devant lui, et tend tout son esprit vers la borne, confiant à ses pieds l’espoir de la victoire.

54 Dans ces deux textes apparaît l’image d’une victoire instantanée, succédant immédiatement au début de la course. L’apparition des termes νίκη et νικῶ permet de compléter ce que signifiait l’épigramme de Ladas. On a vu que son arrivée était contemporaine de son départ. Plus précisément, l’épigramme le montre couronné alors même que la barrière du départ résonnait encore du bruit de sa chute. L’abolition de la distance et du temps signifie une immédiateté de la victoire. Ce vol de Ladas vers son couronnement, il faudrait le rapprocher de celui de quelques divinités ailées, principalement Iris et Niké, toutes deux porteuses de victoire, et pour lesquelles tous les motifs de la course et du vol sont déployés ; elles-mêmes ne sont ailées que pour permettre la réalisation immédiate, instantanée, de la volonté de Zeus147.

55 Peut-être sommes-nous en mesure de mieux comprendre, maintenant, comment l’imaginaire de la vitesse en fait une vertu particulièrement efficace dans le domaine guerrier. Courir vite, c’est d’une part exprimer sa biè ; c’est, d’autre part, savoir se déplacer de façon instantanée. Il y a du surgissement dans l’arrivée — dans l’apparition, devrait-on dire — du coureur, un surgissement brusque et soudain qui se rapproche de l’épiphanie148 et qui est marqué par le préfixe ἐπι- ou par des adverbes tels qu’ἐξαπίνης, τάχα, αἶψα, qu’on utilise de façon récurrente dans l’épopée dès que les vents entrent en

Kernos, 27 | 2014 27

scène149, et dans la littérature militaire, pour décrire l’arrivée, souvent providentielle, de troupes fondant sur l’ennemi150. De l’épopée à l’histoire, le transfert se fait d’ailleurs aisément : au cap Artémision, en 480 av. J.-C., l’allié providentiel qui accourut au secours des Grecs n’était autre que le dieu Borée. La fantastique flotte perse fut soudainement anéantie par une tempête qui était tombée sur elle à l’improviste, ἐπέπεσε (verbe employé deux fois)151. Les Athéniens, qui le remercièrent en fondant un sanctuaire sur les bords de l’Ilissos, disaient que le dieu Borée leur était venu en aide, βοηθήσαντα152. C’est l’occasion de rappeler que βοηθεῖν vient de l’expression ἐπὶ βοὴν θεῖν ; aider, c’est courir à l’appel du cri de guerre153. Il y a des chances pour que ce verbe θεῖν ait résonné encore suffisamment fort dans le βοηθήσαντα des Athéniens remerciant le rapide dieu Borée. Ajoutons que le cap Sépias, où se trouvait stationnée la flotte perse, était consacré à la déesse Thétis154 : Achille n’est pas loin…

56 Si l’on continue d’explorer les connotations de ce verbe βοηθεῖν, il faut également mentionner son équivalent linguistique, βοηδρομεῖν, construit suivant le même principe. C’est de ce verbe que dérivent les noms du mois de boédromion, à Athènes, et de la fête des Boédromia. Or l’aition de la fête montre combien ce dromein était encore sensible dans le nom composé : il s’agirait en effet d’une commémoration de l’aide apportée en grande hâte par Ion (ou Xouthos, selon les sources) qui courut à l’aide des Athéniens et leur donna le salut155. Là encore, le surgissement rapide de forces alliées est venu apporter la victoire. Or c’est en ce mois de boédromion qu’une certaine tradition athénienne, au mépris de toute chronologie, situait la plupart des grandes victoires de l’histoire de la cité : la bataille de Marathon, au six du mois, celles de Mycale et de Platées le trois (jour des Nikétéria), le quinze la victoire navale de Naxos, et le vingt celle de Salamine156. Il est évident que ce regroupement dans un même mois ne repose sur rien d’historique, et que les victoires ont été attirées en boédromion par les connotations que comporte son nom.

57 Enfin, courir vite, c’est maîtriser le temps et l’espace qui nous sépare de la victoire. Or, cette idée de la victoire instantanée et de la distance abolie trouve une correspondance frappante dans une célèbre anecdote de la bataille du cap Mycale, dernier grand combat de la seconde guerre médique. Au moment où les soldats grecs partaient au combat, un caducée — symbole d’Iris ou d’Hermès — apparut sur la plage tandis qu’une rumeur volait (ἐσέπτατο) à travers les rangs, propageant la nouvelle de la victoire de Platées ; l’audace et l’ardeur des troupes en furent toute revigorées. Il apparut après enquête que les deux batailles avaient eu lieu le même jour ; seul un prodige avait permis à la rumeur de franchir instantanément les centaines de kilomètres séparant les deux champs de bataille157. Une semblable histoire était rapportée pour la victoire de l’Eurymédon : la rumeur l’avait annoncée à Athènes le jour même où elle eut lieu. Que ce soit après la bataille de Mycale ou après celle de l’Eurymédon que les Athéniens instaurèrent un culte pour Phémé, la rumeur, importe peu pour notre propos158. L’essentiel est de bien cerner cette structure où la victoire et son annonce se font simultanées, défiant la distance et le temps, et ce par l’intermédiaire d’un agent ailé.

58 À explorer ce type de récits, on ne peut que retomber vite sur des histoires où s’entremêlent guerriers et coureurs, batailles, épiphanies et concours olympiques. Prenons par exemple la bataille de la Sagra, qui opposa dans la première moitié du VIe siècle les Locriens épizéphyriens et les Crotoniates et qui s’accompagna d’une tradition riche en prodiges. En grande infériorité numérique, les Locriens avaient invoqué Ajax, le fils d’Oilée, et obtenu de Sparte l’envoi des Dioscures, des héros qui, de fait, étaient

Kernos, 27 | 2014 28

apparus sur le champ de bataille et avaient permis une victoire aussi spectaculaire qu’inattendue. Prodige supplémentaire, la nouvelle en avait été transmise le jour même (αὐθημερόν) à Sparte par une rumeur (φήμη), ce qui donna lieu à un fameux proverbe figurant dans tous les recueils parémiologiques. Or, Strabon nous livre une variante intéressante : selon lui, la nouvelle fut bien transmise instantanément, αὐθημερόν, mais c’est à Olympie qu’elle parvint, non à Sparte, et le jour même du concours olympique. Après enquête, on s’aperçut que la nouvelle, dans sa rapidité, disait vrai159. Le rôle attribué aux Dioscures n’était peut-être étranger à ce décalage olympique ; après tout, Castor était censé avoir remporté l’épreuve de la course lors des proto- concours olympiques organisés par Héraclès160. Mais je crois surtout que c’est le propre des Olympia d’attirer ce genre de récits ; pour Pline l’Ancien, c’est la destruction de Sybaris par Crotone qui fut annoncé le jour même à Olympie161.

59 C’est qu’Olympie est le royaume de la course et des coureurs. Prenant le relais d’Iris ou de Phémé, le coureur, bien souvent, produit les mêmes effets que ces divinités. Par sa vitesse intrinsèque, il est le vecteur idéal de la victoire, qu’il vient annoncer et qu’il symbolise quasiment. Ainsi, l’Argien Aigeus, vainqueur olympique du dolichos en 328, aurait couru le même jour (αὐθημερόν) jusqu’à Argos annoncer sa victoire, parcourant de la sorte une centaine de kilomètres en un temps record162. C’est en quelque sorte une version inverse, et pacifique, du proverbe de la Sagra : le coureur part d’Olympie et annonce la victoire dans sa cité d’origine — mais l’idée est la même, associant dans un même mouvement la victoire, la course et l’instantanéité. Plus frappant encore, l’épreuve de l’hoplitodromie elle-même conserve dans son aition une idée semblable, et cette fois-ci dans un contexte militaire : selon Philostrate, ce concours trouvait son origine dans une guerre entre Élis et Dymé, guerre si féroce qu’elle ne respectait pas même la trêve olympique163 : Νικώντων δὲ αὐτῶν Ἠλείων κατ’ αὐτὴν τὴν τῶν ἄθλων ἡμέραν ὁπλίτης λέγεται τῶν ἀπὸ τῆς μάχης ἐσδραμεῖν ἐς τὸ στάδιον εὐαγγέλια ἀπάγων τῆς νίκης. On raconte que les Éléens furent vainqueurs le jour même des épreuves, et qu’un hoplite courut de la bataille jusqu’au stade pour annoncer l’heureuse nouvelle de la victoire.

60 Enfin, comment ne pas évoquer un autre hoplitodrome, pas forcément plus historique que l’Éléen, qui s’était rendu célèbre pour une semblable annonce ? j’ai nommé le fameux coureur de Marathon, qui, le jour même de la victoire, courut en armes jusqu’à Athènes et n’eut que le temps de clamer « réjouissez-vous » (χαίρετε) avant de succomber à l’effort164. Ce messager, nommé tantôt Philippidès, dans une évidente confusion avec l’hémérodrome qui fit l’aller-retour à Sparte avant la bataille, et tantôt Euklès, venait lui aussi apporter une nouvelle victorieuse, ce qu’en grec on nomme εὐαγγέλια ; le terme désigne également le rite qui lui est associé, un sacrifice d’action de grâce165. Pour célébrer celui de la victoire de Platées, l’oracle de Delphes ordonna d’éteindre le feu de tous les autels pollués par les Perses pour les rallumer ensuite depuis le foyer delphique. L’on eut recours là aussi à un coureur de longue distance : le Platéen Euchidas s’offrit à rapporter le feu de Delphes, courut l’aller-retour dans la journée et put allumer l’autel de Zeus Eleutherios, créé pour l’occasion, avant de s’effondrer mort166.

61 L’affinité des deux histoires est évidente : deux coureurs d’une vitesse surhumaine, annonçant la victoire ou permettant sa consécration rituelle, et, tel Ladas, mourant tous deux de leur exploit, en pleine gloire. Il est intéressant de voir mêlée à cet ensemble thématique l’antique signification de la course olympique, qui donnait pour fin à

Kernos, 27 | 2014 29

l’épreuve du stade d’allumer l’autel de Zeus. Bref, il ne paraît guère probable que cet Euchidas, dont Plutarque nous fournit la première et unique mention, ait eu une quelconque historicité ; au vrai, toute l’histoire apparaît comme l’aition d’une autre course armée, celle des Eleutheria, qui redéploie de manière remarquable tous les thèmes ici abordés. Fête panhellénique commémorant la bataille de Platées, probablement fondée à l’époque d’Alexandre et de la ligue de Corinthe, les Eleutheria comprenaient les épreuves gymniques et hippiques habituelles167, mais leur point d’orgue était sans conteste la longue course armée qui partait du trophée de la bataille pour aboutir, semble-t-il, à l’autel de Zeus Eleutherios, ce qui représentait une distance d’une quinzaine de stades. À ce symbolisme qui joint la victoire sportive à l’euangelia s’en ajoute un autre, par lequel Achille réapparaît : le vainqueur de l’épreuve recevait le beau titre d’aristos Hellènôn et se voyait attribuer l’ aristeion ; et comme il était inconcevable que le meilleur des Grecs pût être vaincu, le règlement spécifiait que tout vainqueur qui se représentait à l’épreuve devait vaincre ou mourir168…

62 Vaincre ou mourir, voire vaincre et mourir, moyen idéal d’obtenir un kléos impérissable169, ces slogans s’adaptent aussi bien au monde guerrier qu’à l’esprit de l’agonistique sportive. Aussi n’est-ce pas un hasard si la tradition la plus répandue donnait le nom d’Euklès au coureur de Marathon, bataille au terme de laquelle les Athéniens consacrèrent un sanctuaire à la déesse Eukleia, ni si Euchidas, à sa mort, fut enterré dans le sanctuaire platéen d’Artémis Eukleia170.

Course et guerre hoplitique : conclusions

63 Il suffit donc de lancer quelques lignes dans l’océan historiographique des guerres grecques pour en retirer une série d’anecdotes plus ou moins légendaires, attachées à une bataille donnée, qui associent, dans ce contexte militaire, la course et la victoire, au point que la première semble précipiter la seconde. Ces anecdotes, fondées sur le thème de la rapidité qui annule la distance et le temps, obéissent à une structure qu’on retrouve également dans le monde agonistique ; elles se traduisent à l’occasion par des courses armées, avec, à l’arrière-plan, l’idée que l’hoplite vainqueur reproduit la figure d’Achille, le meilleur des Achéens.

64 Pour autant, dans le monde des citoyens-hoplites, il était plus difficilement concevable de faire de la vitesse le mode fondamental du combat ; la phalange, limitant les mouvements et exaltant le fait de tenir bon plutôt que celui de courir, ne laissait guère de place à un Achille171. Dans ce contexte, la course armée était sans doute moins un exercice militaire pertinent qu’une manière de résoudre, avec un certain décalage, la contradiction qu’il existait entre un héritage épique et une réalité hoplitique substantiellement différente ; la figure de l’hoplite coureur venant réconcilier l’une et l’autre172. Quant à l’historiographie antique, hésitant elle aussi entre idéologie homérique et volonté de réalisme, elle tente différents moyens de concilier les deux. Aussi assiste-t-on à tout un jeu de transpositions et de décalages qui rejettent la course à la périphérie de la bataille, c’est à dire à son commencement, avec la charge, et à sa fin, avec la poursuite et l’annonce de la victoire, sans pour autant que cette course perde les valeurs qui lui sont traditionnellement attribuées. Exemplaire, à cet égard, est le récit que donne Hérodote de la bataille de Marathon : alors que le cœur du combat est expédié en quelques lignes, toute la gloire est concentrée sur la charge héroïque des Athéniens, qui auraient couru les huit stades qui les séparaient des Perses tout en

Kernos, 27 | 2014 30

gardant leur formation (exagération manifeste)173, et sur le retour précipité vers Athènes, qui coupa court à la tentative de débarquement de Datis. Et Hérodote de décrire ainsi cette dernière action d’éclat : Ἀθηναῖοι δὲ ὡς ποδῶν εἶχον τάχιστα ἐβοήθεον ἐς τὸ ἄστυ,« les Athéniens coururent de toute la vitesse de leurs jambes au secours de la ville »174. J’avais également rappelé, au début de cette recherche, la charge des Thébains lors de la bataille de Leuctres ; c’est maintenant sans surprise qu’on apprend que, selon Plutarque, le bataillon sacré, commandé par Pélopidas, s’était élancé μετὰ τάχους ἀπίστου, « avec une vitesse incroyable ». La victoire ne pouvait que suivre175.

65 Et puis, à côté de ces armées de soldats coureurs, on rencontre encore quelques Achilles individuels : des chefs de guerre dont les exploits sont inséparables de leur grande vélocité. Je pourrais mentionner Alexandre, imitateur conscient du Péléide tout au long de son expédition perse, et dont on apprend par Plutarque qu’il était ποδώκης et qu’il aurait pu concourir sur le stade olympique ; ce qu’il refusa avec dédain, souhaitant n’avoir que des rois comme adversaires176. Mais l’imitation d’Achille par Alexandre est trop volontaire, trop manifeste, et je préfèrerai concluresur une autre figure, moins ouvertement mythifiée et puisée dans l’univers rationaliste d’un Thucydide, celle du Spartiate Brasidas. Dans cette période de changements, notamment militaires, que constitue la guerre du Péloponnèse, et dans cette œuvre qui se veut hostile au mythodès, il me paraît possible de déceler la persistance des représentations épiques. Comme l’a remarqué Simon Hornblower, dès son apparition dans l’œuvre de Thucydide, le général est caractérisée par une série de verbes de mouvements et de termes liés à la vitesse — chose assez originale si l’on se rappelle la lenteur proverbiale de la phalange spartiate177. Or, avant de décéder à Amphipolis et d’y recevoir les honneurs cultuels d’oiciste et de sauveur de la cité, Brasidas fut accueilli en fête par les habitants de Scioné qui « s’avancèrent à sa rencontre comme on fait pour un athlète victorieux » 178. Athlète et coureur, Brasidas serait-il un hoplite aux pieds légers ? L’Alcibiade du Banquet nous fournit la réponse179 : « Des semblables à Achille, il y en eut : on pourrait lui comparer, entre autres, Brasidas ».

NOTES

*. Cet article a bénéficié des conseils de François de Polignac, de Pierre Ellinger et de John Ma, que je tiens à remercier chaleureusement ; je reste évidemment seul responsable des propos que j’y tiens. 1. CIO, Charte Olympique, éd. du 8 juil. 2011, p. 10. La Fondation Internationale pour une Trêve Olympique (FITO) est une ONG crée par le CIO en juillet 2000. ONU : voir particulièrement les résolutions 48/11 du 25 oct. 1993 ; 64/4 du 19 oct. 2009 ; et 66/5 du 11 oct. 2011. 2. Voir par exemple GOLDEN (2008), p. 136–142, et ROUGEMONT (1973) pour une étude rigoureuse des différentes trêves festives connues. 3. Riche étude de CROWTHER (2004), p. 313–321. Voir également SANI (1982), p. 53–57 ; ROBERT (1989), p. 334–335 ; PERYSINAKIS (1990), p. 43–49 ; MÜLLER (1995), p. 58–68 ; ID. (1996), p. 43–47 ; MANN (1998), p. 7–21 ; SCANLON (2002), p. 13–15.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 31

4. Ainsi GOLDEN (1998), p. 23–28 et MANN (1998), p. 11–13. Mais voir cependant EVJEN (1992), p. 103– 104, et surtout POLIAKOFF (1987), p. 94–99, dont certaines remarques sur la place accordée aux athlètes dans l’armée ne doivent pas être négligées. 5. Voir FINLEY – PLEKET (2008), p. 185–187 ; POLIAKOFF (1987), p. 99–103 ; ANGELI BERNARDINI (1980), p. 83–88. 6. Euripide, fr. 282 (TGrF, KANNICHT). 7. Lucien, Anacharsis, 24 ; Dion Chrysostome, Discours 29 ; Voir également Diodore, XV, 50, 5, et Plutarque, Propos de table II, 5, 2 (Mor., 639e). Cf. FINLEY – PLEKET (2008), p. 175–176 et 193–194 ; POLIAKOFF (1987), p. 94–99. 8. Voir par exemple Hérodote, V, 47 (Philippos) ; V, 102 (Eualcidès) ; VI, 92 (Eurybatès) ; VIII, 47 (Phayllos) ; IX, 105 (Hermolycos) ; Xénophon, Helléniques II, 4, 33 (Lacratès) ; VII, 1, 33 (Antiochos) ; Diod., XVI, 44, 3 (Milon) ; Pausanias, IV, 17, 9 (Phanas) ; VI, 8,6 (Timasithéos) ; X, 34, 5 (Mnasiboulos), etc. 9. Les deux faits sont réunis par Plut., Propos de table II, 5, 2 (Mor., 639e). Autres sources dans KURKE (1993), p. 133–137, qui, après VERSNEL (1970), p. 155–163, y voit des attestations d’une espèce de mana attaché à l’athlète victorieux, désigné par le terme de kudos et symbolisé par la couronne. 10. Platon, Lois VIII, 832e–833c. 11. Diod., XV, 30, 1–2 et 50, 5 ; Plut., Pélopidas, 4, 1 et 7, 5. Cf. Théophraste, Histoire des plantes X, 20, 5 et Plut., Démon de Socrate, 25 (Mor., 594c). 12. Nepos, Épitomé, 2, 4 : postquam ephebus est factus et palaestrae dare operam coepit, non tam magnitudini uirium seruiuit quam uelocitati : illam enim ad athletarum usum, hanc ad belli existimabat utilitatem pertinere. Cf. 5, 4. 13. Il est vrai que, selon Plutarque, Apophtegmes, Épaminondas 4–6 (Mor., 192d), Épaminondas condamnait la sarcophagie, c’est-à-dire le régime typique des athlètes lourds ; mais peut-être faut-il y voir avant tout l’expression de ses convictions pythagoriciennes ; cf. sur ce point VIDAL- NAQUET (1991), p. 112–113. Sur la condamnation des athlètes lourds dans la littérature savante, voir POLIAKOFF (1987), p. 93 ; KÖNIG (2005), p. 254–300 ; BRULÉ (2006), p. 276–279. 14. IG VII, 2462 = CEG 632 = RHODES – OSBORNE (2003), no 30, v. 9. 15. Voir le commentaire de TUPLIN (1987), p. 103–107, ainsi que celui de RHODES – OSBORNE, ibid. 16. Sur l’hoplitodromie, voir par exemple MILLER (2004), p. 32–33. 17. Plat., Lois VIII, 832e. 18. Philostrate, Gymmastique, 7. Voir infra, § 5. 19. MORETTI (1953), p. 21–23 ; BILIŃSKI (1960), p. 23–25. Ce qui est sûr, c’est que, d’après le témoignage des amphores panathénaïques, le concours était pratiqué à Athènes au moins aussi tôt qu’à Olympie : voir KYLE (1987), p. 181–182. 20. Tyrtée, fr. 11 et 12 (éd. PRATO) : voir particulièrement la déconsidération du coureur fr. 12, v. 2 et 4 : il existe bien une « mauvaise course », aux yeux de certains théoriciens de l’hoplitisme. Près de trois siècles plus tard, Platon ne dit pas autre chose : Lachès, 190e. Cf. DETIENNE (1999), p. 169–174 ; LAZENBY (1991), p. 91–97. 21. DONLAN – THOMPSON (1976), p. 339. 22. Sur cette bataille, voir principalement LAZENBY (1985), p. 151–162, et TUPLIN (1987), p. 72–107. 23. Diod., XV, 55, 3. Il s’agit sans doute de la même charge que celle du bataillon sacrée, mentionnée par Plutarque, Pélopidas, 23, 3. 24. Cf. Xén., Hell. VI, 4, 13. 25. Xén., Hell. VI, 4, 13–14 ; Diod., XV, 55, 4–5 ; Paus., IX, 13, 10. 26. Le pas supplémentaire : Polyen, II, 3, 2, avec BUCKLER (1985), p. 140–143. Sur ce cœur de la bataille où les deux fronts luttent bouclier contre bouclier, voir LAZENBY (1991), p. 87–109.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 32

27. TUPLIN (1987), p. 105–106, a bien saisi le problème et choisit de donner à ἐδράμομεν un sens général désignant l’action militaire, sans toutefois en étudier les implications. 28. Voir les études de DONLAN – THOMPSON (1976) ; GARLAND (1992), p. 47–54 ; ELLINGER (2002). 29. Huit stades : Hdt., VI, 112. Réfutation par DONLAN – THOMPSON (1976). Cette valorisation de la charge par Hérodote semble donc très exagérée, d’autant qu’elle ne fut peut-être même pas la première : cf. WEES (2004), p. 172 et 180. 30. Hdt., VI, 113. 31. Plut., Propos de table II, 5, 2 (Mor., 639e). Cf. aussi Luc., Anacharsis, 24. 32. Xénophane, 21 B 2, 17-19 DK. 33. Sur l’évolution du programme olympique et cette primauté de la course, voir LEE (1988), p. 110–115. 34. IG II² 2311, avec les restitutions de SHEAR (2003). 35. Sur la liste des prix des concours d’Aphrodisias (CIG II, 2758), datée du IIe siècle ap. J.-C., le pancrace est, de loin, l’épreuve la mieux rémunérée ; l’on notera également que les xystarchoi d’époque romaine étaient fréquemment d’anciens pancratiastes : cf. SCANLON (2002) p. 56 ; GOLDEN (2008), p. 34–35. 36. Inscriptions honorant de grands coureurs d’époque hellénistique et romaine : par exemple MORETTI (1953), no 45 ; 59 ; 66 ; 86 ; et no 76, une très grandiloquente inscription à la gloire de M. Aurelius Abas. Sur le développement des Eleutheria à époque tardive, voir en dernier lieu VAN NIFJ (2005) ; sur les Capitolia : CALDELLI (1993) ; RIEGER, (1999), p. 171–203. Voir également MORETTI (1987), qui montre la vigueur de l’école de sprint alexandrine à l’époque impériale. 37. Les critiques sont venues tôt : GARDINER (1910), p. 56. Plus récemment, Mark Golden s’est montré lui aussi sceptique et a supposé que la rivalité entre épreuves hippiques et gymniques a conduit à l’oblitération des premières par Hippias d’Élis : GOLDEN (1998), p. 41–45 ; scepticisme plus général (mais concernant davantage la datation que l’évolution du programme) chez CHRISTESEN (2007). LEE (1988) ; MILLER (2004), p. 226–227 ; KYLE (2007), p. 107, tiennent une position plus fidéiste. 38. « If any athletic event does have relevance to divine worship, that event is running » : LEE (1988), p. 113 ; voir aussi BURKERT (2005), p. 128 39. Voir notamment JÜTHNER (1968), p. 134–156, et BURKERT (1985), p. 61–62. 40. Philstr, Gym., 5–6. 41. BURKERT (2005), p. 127–130. 42. Ibid., p. 130–135, et p. 118–126 pour les histoires du mont Lycée, dont l’interprétation forme la matrice de tout le chapitre. Depuis, les loups-garous arcadiens se sont vus appliquer plusieurs types de grilles de lecture (voir la synthèse de JOST [2005]) et le rapprochement avec le sacrifice du bélier à Pélops peut ne pas paraître évident. 43. JEANMAIRE (1939), p. 413–418 ; cette théorie a été brièvement reprise par BRELICH (1969), p. 449– 456, qui lui a donné sa forme canonique. La référence à l’initiation est implicite dans BURKERT (2005), p. 134, et explicite dans ID. (1985), p. 106. 44. BRELICH (1969), ibid. ; BURKERT (1985), ibid. De fait, une des interprétations antiques de l’épreuve de l’hoplitodromie, qui concluait les concours olympiques, en faisait un symbole de la fin de la trêve olympique et du retour à la vie ordinaire : Philstr., Gym., 7. 45. MALLWITZ (1988), p. 86–89, pour le Pélopion, et p. 94–102 sur le stade. Pour situer le stade primitif, l’archéologue se fonde sur la position des puits du VIIe siècle jouxtant la piste. Il faut toutefois noter que ces puits ne disent rien de l’Olympie du VIIIe siècle (raison pour laquelle A. Mallwitz fait débuter les concours vers 700). SCANLON (2002), p. 32–39, fait ainsi l’hypothèse que le tout premier stade n’était nullement une construction spécifique mais une simple piste tracée au sol. Ce savant insiste également sur le rattachement symbolique à l’Altis que constitue le tunnel d’entrée des coureurs, véritable cordon ombilical entre le stade et le sanctuaire !

Kernos, 27 | 2014 33

46. Voir les mises en garde de CALAME (1992) et les importantes études réunies par FARAONE – DODD (2003) — particulièrement celle de Fritz Graf, p. 3–22. 47. Dromos à Sparte et à Argos : MARCHETTI (1996), p. 155–165 ; à Athènes : TRAVLOS (1988), p. 422– 428 ; KYLE (1987), p. 57–64 ; à Corinthe : WILLIAMS – RUSSEL (1981), p. 2–15 ; en Macédoine : HATZOPOULOS (1994), p. 55–62. 48. Paus., III, 14, 6. 49. Les courses de jeunes filles constituent un sujet à part entière, qu’on ne saurait traiter ici. Je renvoie notamment à CALAME (1977), passim ; ANGELI BERNARDINI (1988), p. 153–185 ; SCANLON (1984), p. 77–90 et ID. (2002), p. 98–199. Disons simplement qu’elles rejoignent certaines courses initiatiques spartiates et crétoises en ce qu’elles semblent bien être un rite prénuptial. Il n’est pas sûr, cependant, que l’aspect compétitif y soit aussi développé, et on notera que, dans les mythes qui leur servent d’aition, les coureuses doivent être vaincues pour être épousées, comme si la victoire à la course devait in fine rester le fait d’un homme… 50. Le programme gymnique comprenait stade, diaulos, dolichos, mais aussi makros (une course d’endurance) et pente dolichos ! Voir MILLER (2004), p. 146. 51. Plat., Lois I, 625d. 52. Le texte de base est Ephore FGrHist 70 F 149 (éd. JACOBY), apud Strabon X, 4, 21 (C482–484). Voir particulièrement les études de BRELICH (1969), p. 199 ; 204–205 ; VIDAL-NAQUET (1991), p. 167 ; TZIFOPOULOS (1998), p. 137–171 ; WALDNER (2000), p. 222–242. Sur le verbe ἐγδραμεῖν et le vocabulaire des classes d’âge crétoises : BILE (1992), p. 11–18 ; CHANIOTIS (1996), p. 19–21 et 124. 53. Ce sont en tout cas les seuls exemples où l’interprétation initiatique trouve grâce aux yeux des auteurs de FARAONE – DODD (2003). 54. L’homme fait — ou, peut-être, le jeune adulte. Il se peut en effet que ce terme de dromeus ait désigné des Crétois ayant quitté le stade éphébique mais n’étant pas encore entrés dans leurs pleins droits de citoyens ; cf. CALAME (1977), p. 350–352 ; PETTERSSON (1992), p. 66–72 ; TZIFOPOULOS (1998), p. 150–169. Je remercie également John Ma d’avoir attiré mon attention sur les ekdromoi spartiates, terme apparemment technique qui désigne des hoplites adultes, mais issus des classes d’âges les plus jeunes, envoyés combattre hors des rangs — notamment contre les peltastes — en raison de leur mobilité : voir par exemple Thucydide, IV, 125, 3, ou Xénophon, Helléniques IV, 5, 16. 55. Voir HATZOPOULOS (1994), p. 87–89. 56. VIDAL-NAQUET (1991), p. 167 : « la course, en effet, est virile par excellence ». 57. Sur cette coutume de la statue olympique, voir RASCHKE (1988), p. 38–42 ; HERRMANN (1988), p. 119–137. 58. Mageiros : Athénée, IX, 28, 382b. Sa tombe : Paus., V, 8, 6 et VIII, 26, 3. 59. YOUNG (1984) avait voulu voir en lui une preuve que les athlètes provenaient des classes populaires aussi bien qu’aristocratiques. Mais cette opinion a été réfutée plusieurs fois par H.W. Pleket (voir par exemple PLEKET [2001], p. 166–167). 60. Voir POLIGNAC (1979), p. 12–13, et ID. (1996), p. 172. 61. Paus. I, 43, 7. 62. Déjà par BELOCH (1912), I, 2, p. 149 ; voir aussi MORETTI (1957), no 1, p. 59 ; FONTENROSE (1968), p. 82–83. 63. MORETTI (1957) no 16, p. 61–62. 64. Paus., I, 44, 1. L’épigramme, attribué à Simonide, n’est conservée que partiellement par la tradition littéraire (scholie àThucydide I, 6, 5 = A. Plan. 272). Quant à l’inscription (IG VII, 52), elle fut manifestement regravée à l’époque d’Hadrien. Sur le problème des datations discordantes d’Orrhippos, voir FIGUEIRA (1985), p. 272–273. La question si débattue de l’invention de la nudité ne nous concerne pas directement ici : je me contente de renvoyer à GOLDEN (1998), p. 65–69 et SCANLON (2002), p. 199–273 avec la bibliographie qui y est mentionnée, et noterai simplement que

Kernos, 27 | 2014 34

cette pratique semble avoir été associée avec le domaine militaire et l’entraînement des soldats (voir notamment CHRISTESEN [2002], p. 30–31). 65. Sur les cinq vainqueurs précédant Oibotas, voir MORETTI (1957), no 1–5, p. 59–60. 66. Paus., VII, 17, 13–14. 67. Paus., VII, 17, 13. Le texte de Pausanias étant malheureusement corrompu à cet endroit, la nature du monument dépend des restitutions qu’on adoptera. Le terme μνῆμα, proposé par Michel Casevitz (CUF, 2000), me paraît à la fois conforme aux habitudes du périégète et plus prudent que le τάφος des éditions précédentes. 68. Sur Phanas et la valeur de ce type d’exploit sportif, voir YOUNG (1996), p. 188–193. 69. Icaros : MORETTI (1957) no 28, p. 63 ; Phanas : no 142, p. 77 ; Pataicos : no 171, p. 81. 70. Avec quelques précautions, cependant, car les deux termini ne se situent pas à au même niveau : la légende de la malédiction d’Oibotas a nécessairement été inventée après la victoire de Pataicos, mais pas obligatoirement avant celle de Sostratos ; cette dernière ne fait office de borne chronologique qu’à l’intérieur du récit légendaire. Il est cependant vraisemblable que le culte d’Oibotas et la tradition de couronner sa statue aient été instaurés au moins dès l’époque de Sostratos. 71. Paus., VI, 3, 8. 72. Hdt., VIII, 73 (les cités péloponnésiennes neutres) ; IX, 28 (dénombrement des troupes grecques à Platées) ; Paus., VII, 6, 4 (absence des Achéens aux grandes guerres panhelléniques). 73. Voir par exemple la recension d’HARRISON (2000), p. 82–92. 74. Cf. POLIGNAC (1979), p. 8, et FIGUEIRA (1995), p. 271–273 pour la datation et le contexte. 75. Ce sont Philippos de Crotone, Cléomédès d’Astypaleia, Euthymos de Locres, Théogénès de Thasos, Eutyclès de Locres, Diognétos de Crète et Pouludamas de Scotoussa, auxquels on a parfois ajouté Hipposthénès de Sparte, Glaucos de Carystos, Taurosthénès d’Égine, voire Attalos de Pergame. Voir les différentes propositions de listes de POLIGNAC (1979), p. 5–8 et 10 ; BENTZ – MANN (2001), p. 230–232 et CURRIE (2005), p. 120–157. 76. Schéma proposé par FONTENROSE (1968), p. 76–79 ; voir aussi BENTZ – MANN (2001), p. 232–233. 77. Sur le rôle essentiel joué par la statue dans le culte de l’athlète, voir les études citées note précédente de FONTENROSE et de BENTZ – MANN, ainsi que les articles à paraître d’AZOULAY et de POLIGNAC. 78. L’étude pionnière est celle de POLIGNAC (1979) ; depuis, voir principalement HODKINSON (1999) ; KURKE (1993), p. 143–155 et surtout 153–155 ; MANN (2001), p. 34–36 ; BENTZ – MANN (2001), p. 230– 240 ; CURRIE (2005), p. 124–126. 79. KURKE (1991). Pour une analyse très éclairante du sens de kudos, cette aura de victoire donnée par les dieux, voir JAILLARD (2007). 80. Pour reprendre le titre d’un article fondamental de Leslie Kurke : KURKE (1993). 81. C’est la thèse principale de POLIGNAC (1979). 82. Comme le propose FIGUEIRA (1985), p. 272–273. 83. Voir supra, n. 71. 84. Voir CUCHE (2011), p. 104–106. 85. Hdt., VIII, 47 ; Paus., X, 9, 2. Son épigramme dédicatoire : IG I³ 823 = MORETTI (1953), no 11 = CEG no 265. De fait, Hérodote semble gratifier Crotone du mérite de son ressortissant ; bien plus tard, Alexandre, après la victoire de Gaugamèles, ordonna qu’on rebâtît Platées, cité symbole de la lutte contre les Perses, et qu’on envoyât une partie du butin à Crotone, en mémoire de l’aretè de Phayllos (Plut., Alexandre, 34, 2–3). 86. Tout au plus peut-on noter que, selon Pausanias, VII, 6, 4, les Achéens auraient souhaité participer à la bataille, mais seraient arrivés en retard. La vitesse d’Oibotas l’assurait en tout cas d’une arrivée en temps et en heure ! 87. Comme le notent avec raison BENTZ – MANN (2001), p. 236, et surtout CURRIE (2005), p. 126–129.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 35

88. À l’exception, peut-être, du cas très particulier des tyrans siciliens, Gélon et Hiéron ; mais il faut sans doute interpréter leur culte comme étant celui d’un oiciste plutôt que d’un athlète. Que l’on ne dispose d’aucun culte fermement attesté pour les propriétaires de quadriges vainqueurs est à mon sens une sérieuse difficulté de la thèse principale de CURRIE (2005) dans la mesure où la plupart des commanditaires des épinicies appartiennent à cette catégorie. 89. Pugilat : Euthymos, Théogénès, Diognétos, Cléomédès. Pancrace : Poulydamas, Théogénès. Euthyclès était un pentathlète. La spécialité de Philippos de Crotone est inconnue. Parmi les cas plus douteux, Glaucos et Attalos sont des boxeurs ou pancratiastes ; Hipposthénès et Taurosthenès sont des lutteurs. 90. Innovation revendiquée nettement sur l’inscription d’Orrhippos : πρᾶτος δὲ Ἑλλᾶνων ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ ἐστεφανώθη γυμνὸς ζωννυμένων τῶν πρὶν ἐνὶ σταδίῳ ( IG VII, 52). Ce πρᾶτος δὲ Ἑλλᾶνων rappelle une formule devenue courante pour signaler ce que YOUNG (1996) considère comme l’équivalent antique des records sportifs. 91. Sur le skamma, ou aire de combat, les juges pouvaient tendre des barrières pour forcer les boxeurs qui évitaient trop le combat à se rapprocher l’un de l’autre : cf. POLIAKOFF (1987), p. 79–80. 92. POLIAKOFF (1987), p. 85–88 ; 90–93 ; FINLEY – PLEKET (2008), p. 66–70. 93. Sur la Biè Héracleiè : NAGY (1994), p. 366–367, avec, en arrière-plan, DUMÉZIL (1985), p. 71–131. Héraclès victorieux du pancrace : [Orphée], Argonautiques, 583–584 ; Paus., V, 8, 4 ; Hyg., Fab., 273, 10. En 212 av. J.-C., Capros d’Élide, vainqueur de la lutte et du pancrace aux mêmes concours olympiques, se vantait d’être « le premier depuis Héraclès » à obtenir cette double couronne. L’expression s’institutionnalisa : YOUNG (1996), p. 184–185. 94. FONTENROSE (1968), p. 85–87 (l’article entier serait à citer) ; MERKELBACH (1970), p. 47–49 ; DOUGHERTY (1993), p. 193–194 ; CURRIE (2002), p. 35–41 ; ID. (2005), p. 132–136. 95. Voir notamment BILINSKI 1960, p. 3–4. 96. Paus., VI, 11, 5. L’épisode est crédible : sur la base delphique de Théogénès, qui ne mentionne évidemment pas chacun des 1300 succès du Thasien, figure une autre victoire au dolichos, aux Hécatombaia d’Argos : MORETTI (1953), no 22. Luigi Moretti propose une autre explication, qui n’est pas nécessairement en contradiction avec celle de Pausanias : vaincu par forfait au pancrace par un nommé Dromeus de Mantinée, que Moretti propose d’identifier avec Dromeus de Stymphale, double périodonice du dolichos, Théogénès aurait souhaité prendre sa revanche sur le terrain de son rival. Même si l’identification des deux Dromeus n’a rien d’assuré, le nom même du Mantinéen aurait pu motiver Théogénès. 97. Achille et le dromos d’Élis : Paus., VI, 23, 2–3 avec JACQUEMIN (2002), p. 286–287. Il existait d’ailleurs un lieu nommé le dromos d’Achille, en Tauride, assez réputé des voyageurs : Hdt., IV, 76 et Denys, Périégèse, 306–307, pour les témoignages antiques ; TUNKINA (2007), p. 225–233, pour sa probable localisation sur la presqu’île de Tendra. L’Achilleion lié aux combats rituels du Platanistas se trouvait hors de Sparte, sur la route de l’Arcadie : cf. Paus., III, 20, 8 avec MUSTI – TORELLI (1991), p. 258–259. 98. On le voit, notamment, dans un passage où Achille emploie sa force (βιάζεται) contre Hector en le poursuivant de ses pieds rapides (ποσὶν ταχέεσσι) : Il. XXII, 229–230, avec NAGY (1994) p. 374– 375. 99. Homère, Odyssée XI, 290. Son fils Podarkès : Hésiode, Catalogue, fr. 199 (éd. MERKELBACH-WEST), v. 5 et schol. Od. XI, 326. Suivant la coutume, le nom du fils renvoie à une qualité du père. Sur le sens de ποδάρκης, voir CHANTRAINE (1999), p. 109–110, et plus généralement NAGY (1994), p. 374– 375. 100. Hom., Iliade VII, 138–141. Areithoos était, selon Phérécyde, FGrHist 3 F 158, le meilleur (aristos)des hommes de l’époque, ce qui le rapproche d’Achille, le meilleur des Achéens. 101. NAGY (1994), p. 377–382. Il conviendrait également de citer un quatrième exemple, moins spectaculaire mais peut-être aussi exemplaire par sa concision : il s’agit de la mention par Nestor de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 36

son fils, « Ἀντίλοχος, μερὶ μὲν θείειν ταχὺς ἠδέ μαχητής » ( Od. III, 112). En dehors des textes homériques, rappelons qu’Héraclès fut suffisamment bon coureur pour faire jeu égal avec la biche de Cérynie. 102. NAGY (1994), p. 371–372 et 276 ; DUMÉZIL (1986), p. 59–65, avec cette différence d’approche que Dumézil cherche un équivalent à la bipartition de type Vayu-Indra dans les deux figures d’Héraclès et d’Achille là où Nagy souligne le double visage du héros de l’Iliade. 103. Hom., Il. XVI, 213 ; XXIII, 713. Β??, ίη, ou ἴς : cf. NAGY (1994), p. 369–370. 104. Rapidité de Zéphyr : Il. XIX, 415–416 ; engendre Zanthos et Balios : XVI, 150–151. 105. Il. XX, 223–229. 106. Sur les ailes des Boréades, voir Pindare, Pythique IV, 179, et Apollonios de Rhodes, I, 219–220, avec le commentaire de VIAN (1974), p. 60 ; leurs victoires aux concours : schol. ad Ap. Rh. I, 1304 ; Hygin, Fab., 273, 10 ; Philstr., Gym., 3. 107. Les ailes sont à entendre avant tout comme un symbole de la rapidité et ne dénotent pas nécessairement la capacité de voler. Dans une récente étude des figures ailées sur les peintures de vases des VIe et Ve siècles, Arne Thomsen arrive à la même conclusion pour le domaine iconographique : THOMSEN (2011), p. 37–56. Dans ce domaine également, la connotation l’emporte sur la dénotation. 108. Cette course consiste à courir sur le sommet, ἐπ᾽ ἄκρον, des épis ou des vagues. L’exemple canonique est donné par les cavales filles de Borée : Hom., Il. XX, 226–229, ou par Iphiclos dans Hésiode, Catalogue fr. 62. 109. Cette idée que les cavales sont fécondés par le vent durera toute l’antiquité, au prix de légères tentatives de rationalisation : voir Aristote, Histoire des Animaux VI, 18, 4 (572a 10–17) ; Virgile, Géorgiques III, 272–279 ; Pline, Histoire naturelle VIII, 67, § 166 ; Varron, Économie rurale II, 1, 7 et Columelle, VI, 27, 7. 110. Iris est ποδήνεμος (Il. II, 786, etc.), ἀελλόπος (Il. VIII, 409, etc.) mais également πόδας ὠκέα (Il. II, 790, etc.) et χρυσόπτερος (Il. VIII, 398 et XI, 185). La force n’est pas absente d’Iris, si l’étymologie proposée par Gregory Nagy, qui fait dériver son nom d’un *uis ancêtre de ἴς, est exacte (NAGY [1994], p. 375 n. 6). 111. L’adjectif θοός s’applique particulièrement aux chars, aux chevaux, à quelques guerriers, à Arès et aux navires dans les poèmes homériques. Un poème de l’Anthologie palatine (VII, 212) concentre joliment plusieurs de ces figures : on y parle d’un cheval aux pieds de vent, nommé Αἴθυια, la mouette, qui a souvent rivalisé avec les navires, et qui se retrouve comparé avec un oiseau volant sur la distance d’un dolichos ! 112. Iphiclos courait sur le sommet des gerbes sans les plier : Hés., Cat. fr. 62 et schol. in Pd, 4 e Pythique, 61. Apollonios de Rhodes attribuera la même qualité à Euphémos, qui pouvait courir sur le sommet des vagues : Ap. Rh. I, 179–184. Voir aussi la chasseresse et guerrière Camille : Virgile, Énéide VII, 808–811. 113. Aux bons ouvriers les bons outils : ce n’est pas un hasard si le vainqueur de la course de biges aux jeux funéraires de Patrocle est Diomède, un des rares Achéens à pouvoir prétendre au titre d’aristos (Il. XXIII, 499–513 ; voir aussi v. 406 pour le lien établi entre τάχος et κῦδος. Diomède aristos : cf.NAGY [1994], p. 53–54). 114. Ap. Rh., IV, 1465–1466 : ποσσὶ δὲ κούφοις | Εὔφημος πίσυνος. 115. Les Argonautes comprennent non seulement Euphémos et Iphiclos, mais également des fratries de champions de vitesse, les Boréades et les Dioscures. Argô, façonné par Athéna elle- même, ne pouvait être que le plus rapide des navires : Ap. Rh., I, 111–114. 116. Ap. Rh., II, 269–290. 117. Voir par exemple Virgile, Énéide V, 319 ; Stace, Thébaïde VI, 558 ; 638–640 ; Silius Italicus, Guerre punique XVI, 335 ; 484–485 ; Quintus, Posthomerica IV, 516–518 ; 570–571 ; Nonnos, Dionysiaques XXXVII, 121 ; 279–283 ; 458 ; 633 et 640–645.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 37

118. Il. XIX, 386 (trad. P. Mazon). 119. Il. XXII, 458–459. 120. Il. XXII, 136–137 et 157–158. 121. Il. XXII, 22. 122. Il. XXII, 143 et 198. 123. Il. XXII, 157–161. 124. Il. XXII, 162–166. 125. C’est l’occasion de rappeler que la rapidité d’Achille vaut aussi pour la chasse : selon Pindare, à l’époque de son éducation agreste par Chiron, il chassait sans chien ni filet et rattrapait à la course les cerfs (Pd, 3e Néméenne, v. 51–52). 126. Xén., Commandant de cavalerie III, 1 ; V, 4 ; VIII, 9 ; Art équestre VIII, 10–12 ; Cynégétique XII, 4, etc. On y retrouvera certains thèmes familiers : pour Xénophon, la pratique de l’équitation est ce qui se rapproche le plus du fantasme humain d’avoir des ailes : Commandant de cavalerie VIII, 6. 127. Londres B240. L’image a été diversement interprétée : Psyché de Patrocle, Achille bondissant sur le rivage troyen à l’arrivée de sa nef, ou encore envol d’Achille vers l’Île des bienheureux : voir RECKE (2002), p. 250. 128. [Apollodore], III, 12, 5 et épitomé III, 33 ; schol. Hom., Il. VI, 49 ; schol. Lyc., 302. Hom., Il. XXIV, 257, donne au contraire de Troilos l’image d’un guerrier adulte. 129. LIMC, I (1981), Achilleus, no 206–288 et Troilos. Voir RECKE (2002), p. 203–208. 130. Voir par exemple la description qu’en donne STRAWCZYNSKI (2006), p. 30–35. 131. Par exemple sur une péliké du Louvre, G231, ou sur le fragment d’une coupe d’Istanbul par le peintre de Pistoxenos (Musée archéologique A33.2347). 132. Chien : par exemple sur une amphore de Berlin, Pergamonmuseum F1685 ; le chien est l’épisème d’Achille sur une coupe du peintre de Brygos du Louvre (Louvre G154). Lièvre : coupe du peintre C de New-York (Met GR 521). En tant que cadeau pédérastique, le lièvre peut également rappeler les versions qui faisaient d’Achille un éraste repoussé ; mais dans le même temps, c’est une proie habituelle de la chasse, et un animal dont Xénophon vante la rapidité : Art de la chasse V, 17 ; 27, etc. Sur Achille chasseur, voir la note 124. 133. À quelques exceptions près : voir par exemple la coupe du peintre de la Fonderie (Boston 98.933), une des rares images à représenter clairement une poursuite. 134. Il s’agit à ce jour de seize vases recensés par le LIMC I, Achilleus, no 585–600, et plus récemment par RECKE (2002), p. 72–74. 135. Voir notamment la superbe hydrie de Boston (63.473) sur laquelle Achille porte les trois jambes du triskèle en épisème et bondit vers son char, tandis qu’une déesse ailée et l’eidôlon de Patrocle, ailé lui aussi, accourent à sa rencontre. 136. Philstr., Gym., 32. 137. Anth. Plan., 54a et 54b, où l’on notera les termes ὑπήνεμον et ἐπ᾽ ἀκροτάτῳ. 138. Paus., II, 19, 7 et III, 21, 1. Pour MUSTI – TORELLI (1986), p. 275, la statue argienne est celle du second Ladas (voir infra), le champion de stade, mais outre qu’on voit mal ce qu’un Achéen ferait statufié dans un temple d’Argos, la répétition de l’expressions ποδῶν ὠκύτητι ὑπερβαλλόμενος τοὺς ἐφ’ αὑτοῦ employée par Pausanias en II, 19, 7 et III, 21, 1 ne laisse pas de doute sur le fait qu’il parle du même coureur. Quant à l’histoire de la mort de Ladas, il y a là, me semble-t-il, le germe d’un motif qu’on rencontrera chez d’autres coureurs, la mort au terme de la course victorieuse, qui rejoint à la fois l’idéal grec du décès en pleine gloire et le thème de la disparition mystérieuse de l’athlète, prélude à son culte. Sur ce sujet, voir par exemple BILINSKI, 1960, p. 30– 31 ; FONTENROSE (1968), p. 76–78 (narratème F) ; CURRIE (2005), p. 131–132. 139. Anth. Plan., 53, L’épigramme n’a été transmise que partiellement par l’anthologie et c’est en se fondant sur d’autres citations et sur des détournements de l’épigramme que Pierre Laurens a restitué les deux derniers vers du distique : LAURENS (1973), p. 91–95 et ROBERT (1989), p. 278–279.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 38

140. Anth. Pal. XI, 86 et 119. Cf. LAURENS (1973), p. 91–95, et ROBERT (1989), p. 278–279, qui cite également Anth. Pal. XI, 208. 141. Solin, I, 98 : Verum ut ad pernicitatis titulum transeamus, primam palmam velocitatis Ladas quidam adeptus est, qui ita supra cavum pulverem cursitavit, ut harenis pendentibus nulla indicia relinqueret vestigiorum. Catulle, Poésies LV, v. 15. 142. Il n’est pas toujours aisé de savoir si les nombreuses mentions de Ladas dans la littérature romaine renvoient au sprinteur ou au fondeur. Luigi Moretti prend le parti d’en attribuer la plupart au vainqueur du dolichos (MORETTI [1957], no 260, p. 96) en supposant que sa statue par Myron avait été transportée à Rome et se trouvait à l’origine de sa popularité. Mais l’épigramme pour le sprinteur et ses nombreuses allusions ou parodies d’époque romaine semblent au contraire affirmer que le plus célèbre des deux était bien Ladas d’Aigion (MORETTI [1957], no 535, p. 135). 143. Voir supra, n. 108 et 112, et l’épigramme de Posidippe sur la statue de Kairos : Anth. Plan., 275, 3. 144. Lucilius joue précisément sur cette idée dans une autre épigramme satirique sur un coureur : Marcus était si lent que sa course dura toute la nuit, et qu’au lendemain, les employés le prirent pour une statue de pierre : Anth. Pal. XI, 85 avec le commentaire de ROBERT (1989), p. 254–259. 145. Luc., Timon, 20. 146. Luc., De la calomnie, 12. 147. Iris : LIMC V (1990), 1, s.v. Iris, p. 758. Sur Niké, voir la documentation rassemblée par LONIS(1979), p. 231–253, et surtout l’analyse de THOMSEN (2011), p. 163–241. 148. Sur cette soudaineté de l’épiphanie, voir notamment PIETTRE (1996), p. 352–355. 149. Par exemple Il. IX, 6 ; XXI, 346–347 ; XXIII, 212–215 ; Od. XII, 408. 150. Le verbe ἐπιφάνειν est souvent employé dans un sens plus profane, pour l’apparition soudaine de troupes qui vont changer le cours de la bataille. Voir par exemple Xén., Hell. VII, 2, 20 ; Diod., XIV, 9, 2–3 ; XV, 36, 4. 151. Hdt., VII, 188 et 189. 152. Hdt., VII, 189. 153. CHANTRAINE (1999), p. 182–183. 154. Hdt., VII, 191. Sur le rapport d’Achille avec les tempêtes, voir NAGY (1994), p. 387–395. Thétis, la seiche (sépia en grec) et la perdition en mer : DETIENNE – VERNANT (1974), p. 161–166 ; NAGY (1994), p. 394. 155. Ion : Philochore FGH 328 F 13 (éd. JACOBY), apud Harpocration s.v. βοηδρόμια ; Xouthos : Ét. Mag., s.v. βοηδρομεῖν avec, dans les deux cas, l’expression σπουδῇ πολλῇ… Voir le commentaire de JACOBY, p. 281, pour la place d’Apollon dans ces histoires de courses, ainsi que SALVIAT (1992), p. 266–267, sur les aspects guerriers de la fête. 156. Plut., Camille, 19, 4–6, à quoi il faut ajouter la victoire sur les amazones : Plut., Thésée, 27, 3. Sur les Nikétéria, fête qui aurait commémoré la victoire d’Athéna sur Poséidon et qui tombait le 3 du mois, voir PARKER (2005), p. 476–477. Sur boédromion comme mois des victoires, voir les remarques de JACOBY ad FGrHist 328 F 13, p. 281, et de LORAUX (2005), p. 182 ; 308, n. 49 et 50. 157. Hdt., IX, 100–101. 158. Eurymédon : scholie à Eschine, I, 128 ; Mycale : Procope le Rhéteur, Lettres, 40. Dans les deux cas, on note l’emploi du terme αὐθημερόν. Voir également les invocations à Phémé de Bacchylide : Épinicies II, et X, où la déesse vient avec Niké couronner l’athlète. 159. Strab., VI, 1, 10 (C261). La formule de Strabon est intéressante dans sa densité : εὑρεθείη τὸ τάχος τῆς ἀγγελίας ἀληθές ; la vitesse de la nouvelle se révéla authentique. 160. Paus., V, 8, 4 ; Hyg., Fab., 273, 10. On notera d’ailleurs que, sur un vase au moins, Castor est représenté ailé : THOMSEN (2011), p. 157 (le personnage est identifié avec certitude par une inscription). 161. Pline, Histoire naturelle VII, 22, § 86.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 39

162. Julius Africanus, fr. 65 (éd. WALLRAFF), 210, apud Eusèbe, Chron. I, 206, 25 (éd. SCHOENE) ; cf. MORETTI (1957), no 464, p. 127, et BILINSKI (1960), p. 25. À comparer avec l’inscription de Drymos (IG IV² 1, 618), coureur qui a annoncé αὐθῆμαρ le concours olympique aux Épidauriens. Version comique de ce thème dans Luc., Navire, 44 : le héros rêve d’avoir des ailes et de pouvoir voler jusqu’à Babylone annoncer αὐθημερὸν le nom du vainqueur olympique. Il faudrait ici introduire la figure de l’hémérodromos, ce coureur de fond utilisé pour transmettre des messages sur de longues distances, particulièrement utile dans le Péloponnèse où le relief montagneux rendait inapproprié l’emploi du cavalier. À certains d’entre eux on attribuait des performances extraordinaires, par exemple parcourir 1200 stades en un jour, qui se rapprochent de cette thématique de l’instantanéité : voir les études fondamentales de BILINSKI (1959), p. 69–80, et (1960), p. 24–26 ; ainsi que MATTHEWS (1974) ; LEE (1984). 163. Philstr., Gymn., 7. 164. Plut., Gloire Ath.,3 (Mor., 347c), et Luc., Pro Lapsu, 3. Voir BILINSKI (1960), p. 5–32 (qui défend, sûrement à tort, l’historicité de l’épisode) ; SIEWERT (1990) ; KERTESZ (1991). 165. L’euaggelia désigne un sacrifice pour une heureuse nouvelle, mais semble s’être spécifié dans l’annonce de victoires militaires — et aussi agonistiques : cf. par exemple Diod., XV, 74, 2 pour la victoire de Denys aux concours de tragédie des Lénéennes, ou Philstr., Vie d’Apollonios V, 8 pour les victoires olympiques de Néron. Il semble être à peu près synonyme des épinikia et niketeria, qu’on retrouve aussi bien en contexte militaire qu’agonistique (on notera, par exemple, que l’inscription IG II², 2311 mentionne, après la liste des prix des vainqueurs aux Panathénées, le nombre de bêtes qu’on sacrifiera pour les niketeria des vainqueurs). 166. Plut., Aristide, 20, 4–6. 167. Sur les Eleutheria et sur leur fondation à la datation controversée, la bibliographie est vaste. Je me contente de citer ÉTIENNE – PIÉRART (1975), p. 63–75 ; PRANDI (1988), p. 161–179 ; SCHACHTER (1994), p. 136–141 ; NAFISSI (1995), p. 124–129 et VAN NIJF (2005), p. 273–277. 168. Sources et analyses dans ROBERT (1937), p. 140–142 ; (1969), p. 758–767 ; (1989), p. 323–326, et MORETTI (1953), p. 119. 169. Vaincre ou mourir : cf. ROBERT (1989), p. 334–337 ; CROWTHER (2004), p. 315–316 ; FINLEY – PLEKET (2008), p. 194. Mort et kléos : VERNANT (1989), p. 41–79 et 81–84 ; NAGY (1994), p. 213–251. 170. Euklès : Plut., Gloire Ath., 3 (Mor., 347c) ; fondation du temple d’Eukleia : Paus., I, 14, 4. Euchidas enterré dans le sanctuaire d’Artémis Eukleia : Plut., Aristide, 20, 6. Voir aussi BILINSKI (1960), p. 26–28. 171. Il est vrai qu’une partie de l’historiographie récente, autour de WEES (2004), tend à reconsidérer la conception traditionnelle de la guerre hoplitique et à redonner toute leur place aux troupes légères. Hans van Wees accepte cependant l’idée qu’au Ve siècle les pratiques de la guerre accordent la prédominance à l’hoplite combattant en rangs bien compacts, et l’on notera que le discours civique privilégie continument le fantassin lourd et l’esprit de solidarité des hoplites. 172. À cet égard, je trouve très intéressante l’analyse de Stephan Müller qui tend à appliquer la même grille de lecture à la création de l’épreuve de l’apobatès : MÜLLER (1996), p. 56–69. 173. Il était impossible de courir une telle distance avec le lourd armement du début du Ve siècle et de combattre ensuite. D’après les reconstitutions de DONLAN – THOMPSON (1976) et (1979), les Athéniens n’ont dû courir que le dernier stade qui les séparait de leurs adversaires. Sur la traduction religieuse de cette charge, par laquelle s’opposent course et phobos, voir surtout ELLINGER (2002), p. 322–323. 174. Hdt., VI, 116. On notera qu’Isocrate, pour sa part, déplace encore plus en amont la course victorieuse : l’exploit, pour lui, consiste à s’être rendu à Marathon à grande vitesse, le jour même où les Perses débarquèrent, et — conséquence logique de ce déplacement — à les avoir vaincus ce même jour : Isocrate, Panégyrique (IV), 86–87.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 40

175. Plut., Pélopidas, 23, 5. Seul auteur à insister sur la vitesse de la charge, Plutarque est cohérent et explique qu’elle entraîna immédiatement la dislocation et la fuite des Spartiates. Que cette charge victorieuse soit attribuée à un bataillon d’élite est évidemment significatif. Ce n’est d’ailleurs pas le seul exemple ; Xénophon rapporte ainsi que les epilektoi thébains tentèrent un coup contre Corinthe en courant à toute vitesse : Xén., Hell. VII, 1, 18–19 (je remercie John Ma de m’avoir indiqué cette référence). 176. Plut., Alexandre, 4, 10, et Apophthegmes, Alexandre 2 (Mor., 179d). 177. Par exemple Thuc., II, 25, 2 ; IV, 79, 1 ; 104, 3 ; 111, 2 ; 124, 3. Cf. HORNBLOWER (1996), p. 38–61. 178. Thuc., IV, 121 avec le commentaire de HORNBLOWER (1996), p. 380–385. 179. Plat., Banquet, 221c.

RÉSUMÉS

Dans le débat antique sur l’utilité militaire des compétitions athlétiques, la course à pied a parfois reçu l’appui inattendu de philosophes et de soldats. Il est vrai qu’à Olympie cette épreuve était la seule à comporter une variante avec armes, et qu’on la retrouve dans quelques rites qui semblent avoir pour fonction d’accorder à des jeunes gens les titres d’adulte et de guerrier. Plus généralement, le coureur semble entouré d’une aura héroïque, parfois concrétisée en un véritable culte, dont Achille fournit le modèle idéal. Dans l’épopée, la course fonctionne en effet au sein d’un système de représentations qui associe toute une série d’incarnations de la vitesse (Achille, vents, chevaux, navires…) aux notions de force, d’instantanéité et de victoire. Ces représentations ont suffisamment modelé la pensée grecque pour rester prégnantes tout au long de l’histoire de l’athlétisme et de la guerre antiques ; elles offrent ainsi une clef de lecture de nombreuses anecdotes militaires.

While athletic competitions in ancient Greece were often criticized for their lack of military utility, footraces sometimes received unexpected support from certain philosophers and soldiers. Admittedly running was the only Olympic event to include a version involving weapons, and to be performed during puberty rites in order to grant adult, warrior status to the youth of the city. More generally, the runner seems to have been surrounded by a heroic aura (sometimes inspiring a cult following), for which Achilles provides the ideal model. In epic poetry, racing belongs to a system of representations that combines various embodiments of speed (Achilles, winds, horses, ships, etc.) with notions of power, instantaneity and victory. These representations have shaped Greek thought sufficiently to remain present throughout the history of ancient athletics and war, and to offer a key for understanding many military anecdotes.

AUTEUR

VINCENT CUCHE LabEx RESMED – Paris

Kernos, 27 | 2014 41

Des langes pour Artémis ?*

Véronique Dasen

Introduction

1 Le traité des Maladies des femmes de Soranos d’Éphèse (fin Ier – début IIe siècle ap. J.-C.) est régulièrement cité au sujet de la technique d’emmaillotement des tout-petits dans l’Antiquité car il en fournit au livre II1 une description détaillée. L’auteur préconise que la nourrice enveloppe (σπαργανόω ou σπαργανάω)2 quotidiennement l’enfant de manière très étroite. Elle doit d’abord déposer sur ses genoux un linge, ῥάκος3, ou une étoffe en laine, ἔριον, avant de prendre des bandelettes de laine, larges de trois ou quatre doigts. Elle enroule chaque membre séparément, notamment les jambes, « car en les rapprochant nues et en les entourant d’une bande unique, on s’expose à les ulcérer », en distinguant l’emmaillotement des garçons de celui des filles, qui sera lâche sur les hanches et serré sur les seins, afin d’obtenir une conformation « particulièrement convenable chez les femmes ». Elle termine en enroulant un tissu plus large autour du corps bandeletté, immobilisant complètement l’enfant, les membres allongés, car « en attachant les petits bras le long du corps, on leur évite de se déformer lors des mouvements désordonnés »4.

2 La qualité de l’étoffe est importante. L’auteur insiste sur le choix d’un matériau doux, léger, propre, qui n’irrite pas la peau délicate du bébé. Des bandelettes de laine, sans ourlet, représentent l’idéal, contrairement au lin, trop rêche, surtout quand il est neuf, qu’il convient d’éviter.

3 Chez Soranos, les bandelettes, désignées par le pluriel σπάργανα, sont aussi appelées τελαμῶνες5. Tελαμών s’applique également au pansement d’une blessure et aux bandelettes qui enserrent une momie6. Une épigramme satirique anonyme de l’ Anthologie Palatine7 joue sur ce double sens. Elle met en scène le médecin Cratéas et le fossoyeur Damon, unis par un pacte : le fossoyeur retire les bandelettes des morts qu’on lui confie et les envoie à son ami Cratéas qui les utilise pour bander ses malades : « Et lui, du tac au tac, lui envoyait, pour les ensevelir, tous ses clients, au grand complet »8.

4 Soranos9 conseille de libérer l’enfant de ses bandelettes au bout de 40, voire 60 jours :

Kernos, 27 | 2014 42

Quant à nous, comme nous pensons que l’emmaillotage sert à raffermir le corps et à empêcher ses malformations, nous conseillons d’enlever les bandelettes (σπάργανα) au moment où le corps est d’ores et déjà moyennement ferme et où il n’y a plus à craindre qu’une de ses parties se déforme10.

5 Il recommande de procéder progressivement, sans ôter toutes les bandes à la fois, en commençant par le bras droit afin d’éviter de faire de l’enfant un gaucher11, avant de passer aux jambes.

6 Cette description très précise date cependant de l’époque romaine impériale et concerne les soins procurés aux petits Romains de Rome. Dans quelle mesure cette pratique s’applique-t-elle aux Grecs de l’époque classique, six à sept siècles plus tôt ? Si les sources écrites sont rares, l’iconographie et l’épigraphie permettent de réaliser une première mise au point, d’une part, sur les différentes sortes de tissus utilisés pour les nouveau-nés et nourrissons, ainsi que sur leur mode de production, d’autre part, sur la présence de ces vêtements dans les sanctuaires, à la recherche des traces d’une possible ritualisation d’une étape dans la croissance des tout-petits.

Le discours normatif et médical

7 Le souci d’emmailloter l’enfant repose sur l’idée que l’extrême plasticité de son corps nécessite un traitement particulier, car non seulement sa chair, mais ses os sont mous et doivent encore se solidifier. Cette opinion commune est déjà formulée dans les traités hippocratiques qui définissent le corps du nouveau-né comme chaud et humide, à l’instar du milieu dont il est issu12, tandis que Platon le compare à de la cire13. Plusieurs textes grecs de l’époque classique mentionnent le fait que l’enfant est emmailloté afin de prévenir toute déformation. Dans les Lois14, Platon donne des conseils très stricts : l’auteur recommande les massages et préconise non seulement d’emmailloter l’enfant sur une longue période, deux ans, mais de le porter jusqu’à l’âge de trois ans, quand l’enfant, définitivement sevré, quitte le sein de sa nourrice15. L’apprentissage de la marche est retardé ou du moins étroitement surveillé afin d’éviter toute malformation16 : La femme enceinte se promènera : elle modèlera (πλάττειν) son nouveau-né comme une cire tant qu’il est tendre et jusqu’à l’âge de deux ans l’emmaillotera (σπαργανᾶν). Quant aux nourrices, nous les contraindrons par une loi et sous peine d’amende […] à toujours les porter tant qu’ils ne seront pas assez forts pour se tenir debout, et même, quand plus tard ils le seront, à prendre bien garde que, jeunes comme ils sont, ils ne se tournent pas les jambes en s’appuyant avec trop d’effort ; aussi se donneront-elles la peine de les porter jusqu’à ce qu’ils aient atteint leurs trois ans17.

8 Une telle conception de la plasticité de l’enfant est aussi appliquée aux animaux ; ainsi l’ourse, de sa langue, « comme avec un outil, [...] donne forme à leurs membranes, de sorte que, croit-on, elle ne se contente pas de donner naissance à son ourson, mais qu’elle le façonne »18. Dans Alcibiade19, Platon insiste sur le massage qui poursuit la formation de l’enfant : Ensuite, l’enfant est soigné, non par une nourrice quelconque, mais par des eunuques, choisis comme les meilleurs parmi ceux qui entourent le roi. Ils sont chargés de veiller à tous les besoins du nouveau-né, de s’ingénier pour qu’il devienne aussi beau que possible, en façonnant ses membres enfantins et en les redressant (ἀναπλάττοντας τὰ μέλη τοῦ παιδὸς καὶ κατορθοῦντας)20.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 43

9 Ces recommandations semblent trouver une expression dans l’iconographie, bien avant qu’elles ne soient formulées par écrit. Très tôt, les coroplathes et les peintres de vase caractérisent le très jeune enfant par le fait d’être porté, sur les genoux, dans les bras ou sur les épaules, une convention qui pourrait désigner la classe d’âge des 0–3 ans qui est le principal objet de ces préoccupations21. Cette posture met aussi en scène l’intimité physique qui caractérise les rapports avec les jeunes enfants, portés et cajolés, comme dans la série des courotrophes en terre cuite. Le souci d’éviter les déformations des jambes explique l’invention d’une sorte de déambulateur ou youpala à roulettes qui doit assurer un apprentissage contrôlé de la marche, comme en témoigne un chous du Louvre (vers 400 – 380 av. J.-C.)22 où un petit garçon marche en se tenant au trotteur.

10 En dehors des conseils de Platon, qui ne donne pas de précisions sur ce qu’il entend par « langer », aucun texte grec de l’époque classique ne décrit comment vêtir le nourrisson. Dans les traités hippocratiques, les soins à donner aux enfants sont rarement mentionnés. Deux occurrences de spargana peuvent cependant être relevées. Dans le traité Des airs, des eaux et des lieux23, l’auteur s’intéresse au corps flasque des Scythes qu’il explique par l’absence d’emmaillotement, ce qui sous-entend l’utilité d’enserrer fermement le nouveau-né. Le deuxième passage se trouve dans le traité Des fractures ; l’auteur compare un membre cassé maintenu souplement par une écharpe, ταινία, avec les enfants emmaillotés, σπαργανοῦται, dans leur lit, ce qui suggère que les enfants ne sont pas emballés de façon serrée24.

11 Des informations plus précises concernent l’enfant né avant terme. Aristote25 spécifie qu’il faut l’envelopper dans une étoffe de laine : Ceux qui naissent à sept mois sont viables en venant au monde, mais la plupart sont faibles (aussi les emmaillote-t-on de laine, διὸ καὶ σπαργανοῦσιν ἐρίοις αὐτά) et beaucoup ont quelques conduits qui ne sont pas ouverts, comme ceux des oreilles et des narines, mais ils se forment en grandissant, et beaucoup d’enfants nés dans ces conditions vivent26.

12 Dans les traités hippocratiques, le corps féminin est explicitement comparé à de la laine moelleuse (eirion)27. La recommandation d’Aristote semble participer à cet imaginaire collectif. Symboliquement, le tissu de laine préconisé sert de substitut au corps maternel, à la manière d’une couveuse, pour les petits non achevés. L’auteur ajoute que l’enfant né à terme, à l’inverse, doit disposer d’une grande liberté de mouvement pour se fortifier28. Aristote suit peut-être les principes de la puériculture laconienne où les nourrices, « soigneuses et expertes », « laissaient entièrement libres leurs membres et tout leur corps », selon Plutarque29. Aristote précise qu’un instrument (mekanikos organon) est utilisé par « quelques peuples barbares » afin de maintenir droit, astrabes, le nouveau-né, malheureusement sans donner davantage de précision sur ce qui pourrait être une planchette30.

Le discours littéraire

13 À côté des textes normatifs et médicaux, quelques descriptions littéraires de naissances de dieux ou héros, notamment d’Apollon, Hermès et Héraclès, et de personnages du théâtre, principalement l’Ion d’Euripide et l’Oreste des Choéphores d’Eschyle, font allusion au vêtement porté par le nouveau-né. La taille, la matière ou la couleur de l’étoffe est parfois évoquée.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 44

14 Dans l’Hymne homérique à Apollon, le petit Apollon est ainsi baigné, puis enveloppé dans une étoffe décrite par le terme φᾶρος qui désigne d’ordinaire une large pièce de tissu31, ici de couleur blanche et qualifié de « fin et tout neuf ». L’étoffe est maintenue par une bandelette d’or, κρύσεον στρόφον32, que l’enfant très vite détache en remuant, signe de sa précocité divine33.

15 D’autres étoffes sont teintes. Pindare mentionne la couleur pourpre du lange du petit Jason34, et celle safran du lange d’Héraclès35. Elles peuvent aussi être tissées ou brodées de motifs, poikila36. Euripide décrit avec précision l’image qui orne le vêtement du petit Ion, abandonné dans le sanctuaire de Delphes. L’enfant était emballé par sa mère Créuse dans une pièce de tissu, désignée par le terme générique peplos, que la Pythie appelle langes, au pluriel, spargana37. Créuse dit avoir tissé elle-même cette étoffe dans sa jeunesse. Le motif choisi pour envelopper l’enfant n’est pas anodin : la tête de la Gorgone se trouve au centre de l’étoffe, « frangée de serpents, comme une égide »38. Dans La tondue de Ménandre, les tissus (spargana) qui enveloppaient les jumeaux exposés, Glykera et Moschion, sont qualifiés d’ornés, poikila. Les motifs animaliers, un cerf et un cheval ailé, permettent à Pataikos, leur père, d’identifier les enfants. Il reconnaît aussitôt l’ouvrage réalisé par son épouse, morte en accouchant39.

16 À l’inverse, d’autres textes font allusion à de simples linges. Dans les Choéphores d’Eschyle, la nourrice d’Oreste évoque son humble travail quotidien : Dans les langes (ἐν σπαργάνοις), l’enfant ne parle pas, qu’il ait faim, soif, ou besoin pressant, et son petit ventre se soulage seul. Il fallait être un peu devin, et, comme, ma foi ! souvent j’étais trompée, je devenais laveuse de langes (σπάργανα) ; blanchisseuse et nourrice confondaient leur besogne40.

17 Ces tissus usagés, qui ont la qualité d’être souples et doux pour la peau de l’enfant, sont parfois désignés par le terme rhakos. Dans les Acharniens41,Aristophane utilise spargana comme synonyme de rhakos et rhakomata, les haillons : Dicéopolis — C’est cela ! Télèphe. Donne-moi, je t’en supplie, la guenille (σπάργανα) de Télèphe. Euripide — Esclave, donne-lui les loques (ῥακώματα) de Télèphe. Elles sont au- dessus des haillons (ῥάκους) de Thyeste, au-dessous de ceux d’Ino. Tiens, les voilà, prends42.

18 L’image littéraire du nouveau-né enveloppé de langes, ἐν σπαργάνοις, est étroitement associée à celle de l’enfant au sein. Ce lien est si fort que l’association se décline sur le mode fantastique. Dans les Choéphores43, le serpent qu’enfante en rêve Clytemnestre s’enveloppe ainsi de langes pour être allaité : Oreste — (…) si, sorti du même sein que moi, ce serpent, ainsi qu’un enfant (παὶς ὤς σπαργάνοις ὡπλιζετο), s’est enveloppé de langes, a jeté ses lèvres autour de la mamelle qui jadis me nourrit au doux lait d’une mère mêlé un caillot de sang (…)44.

19 Il suffit même d’un lange pour faire un enfant d’un caillou, comme dans le récit de la tromperie de Cronos par Rhéa. Selon Hésiode45, le Titan prend une pierre bien emballée pour le petit Zeus : Puis, entourant de langes une grosse pierre, (τῷ δὲ σπαργανίσασα μέγαν λίθον ἐγγυάλιξεν) elle la remit au puissant seigneur, fils de Ciel, premier roi des dieux, qui la saisit de ses mains et l’engloutit dans son ventre, le malheureux !46

20 Dans la version de Lycophron (IVe siècle av. J.-C.), l’emballage est serré : la pierre est « enroulée dans des langes qui collent les membres (ἐν γυιοκόλλοις σπαργάνοις) »47. En

Kernos, 27 | 2014 45

creux, le récit fait référence à l’insensibilité supposée du nouveau-né, semblable à un caillou.

21 Le lange n’emprisonne pas forcément l’enfant, surtout quand il s’agit d’un jeune dieu. Comme Apollon et Héraclès, Hermès s’en défait bien vite. Dans l’Hymne homérique à Hermès48, il part, à peine mis au berceau (liknon), accomplir son premier exploit. Il traverse la Grèce pour aller voler les vaches du troupeau d’Apollon en Thessalie. Il les cache dans une caverne à Pylos et rentre s’allonger dans son panier : Bien vite l’illustre Hermès rentra dans son berceau : un lange sur les épaules comme un petit enfant (σπάργανον ἀμφ’ ὤμοις εἰλυμένος ἠΰτε τέκνον νήπιον), il reposait, en jouant de la main avec l’étoffe qui serrait ses jarrets, et tenait du côté gauche son aimable tortue49.

22 Quand il est découvert par Apollon, effrayé, le jeune dieu s’enfonce « dans ses langes (σπάργανα) odorants »50, mimant la tortue qu’il a trouvée, en rentrant « tête, bras et jambes ». Entraîné par Apollon, il « [se prend] la tête dans les mains, malgré le lange qui enserrait ses épaules (σπάργανον ἀμφ’ ὤμοισιν ἐελμένος) »51. Rien ne suggère ici des bandelettes enveloppant chaque membre séparément, comme le décrit Soranos à l’époque romaine. Le texte évoque plutôt un tissu qui ressemble à une sorte de couverture qui protège l’enfant sans le contraindre.

23 En somme, la technique d’emmaillotement est décrite de manière vague dans les sources grecques, mais quelques caractéristiques peuvent être dégagées. Le vocabulaire suggère l’emploi d’étoffes variées, du lin, fin ou assoupli par l’usure, à la laine épaisse, parfois teintes et ornées de motifs, enroulées autour du corps du petit, et parfois maintenues par des cordelettes. Aucun texte ne fait allusion à des bandelettes, le lange protecteur semble être d’une seule pièce. Sa fonction est intimement associée aux besoins du nouveau-né que le petit Hermès résume : « Le sommeil, le lait de celle qui est ma mère, avoir de bons langes (σπάργανα) et aussi des bains chauds : voilà ce qui m’intéresse ! »52.

Nourrissons en langes

24 L’iconographie permet de mieux discerner les spécificités du vêtement du nourrisson grec. Les représentations de nouveau-nés sont relativement rares dans l’art grec, mais elles livrent de précieuses informations. Leur nombre augmente dès le milieu du Ve siècle av. J.-C. dans l’imagerie vasculaire attique avec le développement de l’intérêt des imagiers pour les scènes de la vie privée et familiale. Les reliefs se composent en majorité de stèles réalisées pour des femmes mortes en couches, ainsi que de quelques monuments votifs53.

25 Une série de scènes représentent des naissances divines. Plusieurs images montrent l’enfant divin Érichthonios reçu par Athéna dans une grande pièce d’étoffe déployée qui évoque celle dont une déesse enveloppe Apollon dans l’Hymne homérique. Comme le sparganon poikilon du petit Héraclès chez Pindare, l’étoffe est souvent ornée et de grande dimension. Sur un stamnos de Munich (vers 470–455 av. J.-C.)54, Athéna a posé un pan de l’étoffe constellée de petites croix sur son épaule gauche et tend le tissu de la main droite pour recueillir l’enfant qui lui tend les bras. Le décor varie sur les autres images. Sur le cratère en calice du Peintre de Talos (fin Ve siècle av. J.-C.)55, le tissu est parsemé de cercles ou de sequins assortis au vêtement de Gaia qui présente l’enfant à Athéna, tandis que l’étoffe que tient la déesse est ornée de rayures sur l’hydrie

Kernos, 27 | 2014 46

attribuée au Peintre d’Oinanthe (Fig. 1)56. Ce pan de tissu ouvert apparaît régulièrement dans l’iconographie des scènes de naissance d’Aphrodite, et semble faire référence à son usage dans la vie réelle pour accueillir un nouveau-né57.

Figure 1

Hydrie, London, British Museum E 182. © The Trustees of the British Museum

26 L’étoffe déployée met aussi en œuvre le rôle de passeuse des femmes ; il rappelle visuellement d’autres manipulations de tissus, cette fois au sortir de la vie. Sur une coupe du peintre de Brygos (vers 490 av. J.-C.)58, Tekmessa recouvre d’un ample tissu orné le corps d’Ajax, allongé sur la plage caillouteuse de Troie.

27 Sur les reliefs funéraires de la fin du Ve siècle/début du IVe siècle, le nouveau-né est entièrement enroulé, de la tête aux pieds, dans une étoffe qui semble avoir l’épaisseur de la laine59. Sur une stèle attique conservée à Londres (vers 400 av. J.-C.), la servante soutient avec précaution la tête du bébé (Fig. 2 a et b, détail)60. Sur la stèle de Kalymnos (milieu du IVe siècle av. J.-C.), l’enfant tète, complètement immobilisé (Fig. 3)61. Souvent la tête du bébé est protégée par un petit bonnet pointu dont le bord épais est parfois retourné62. La couleur du lange est visible sur la fameuse stèle peinte de Démétrias (Volos) (IIIe siècle av. J.-C.) 63. Le nouveau-né est empaqueté dans un tissu rouge qui rappelle la description des langes de Jason chez Pindare. L’inscription de la stèle nous apprend cependant que ce bébé soigneusement emballé, la tête coiffée d’un petit bonnet, est mort, comme sa mère Hêdistè.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 47

Figure 2a

London, British Museum 1894.6–16.1. © The Trustees of the British Museum

Figure 2b

London, British Museum 1894.6–16.1. © The Trustees of the British Museum

Kernos, 27 | 2014 48

Figure 3

Stèle en marbre, Calymnos, Musée archéologique 3900. Photo D. Bosnakis.

28 Le vêtement est parfois enroulé avec coquetterie, un pan de tissu dépassant des pieds et retombant de manière souple. Sur la péliké du Peintre de Nausicaa (Fig. 4)64, l’élégance maniérée du drapé semble vouloir rendre encore plus crédible la méprise de Cronos.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 49

Figure 4

Péliké, New York, Metropolitan Museum 06.1021.144. Dessin V. Dasen

29 Le lange n’enveloppe pas toujours l’enfant de manière rigide. L’Hymne homérique à Hermès raconte comment le jeune dieu parvient à s’extraire sans peine de son berceau. Plusieurs imagiers montrent ce mélange piquant de précocité divine et de malice enfantine. Sur l’une des faces d’une hydrie de Caeré (vers 520 av. J.‑C.)65 cinq vaches pointent leurs museaux hors d’une grotte ; sur l’autre, Apollon s’indigne face à Maia et Zeus (?), debout à côté de l’enfant qui repose sur son lit, en apparence insensible au bruit de la dispute. Le comique de situation naît de l’opposition entre la précocité de l’exploit et l’inertie présumée du nouveau-né. L’immobilité trompeuse de l’enfant contraste avec l’agitation des adultes qui gesticulent au-dessus du berceau. Le caractère merveilleux de la scène est accentué par les roulettes qui terminent les pieds du lit, à la manière des objets magiques réalisés par Héphaïstos. Sur une coupe du peintre de Brygos (vers 490 av. J.-C.)66, d’autres éléments créent un décalage humoristique avec l’image attendue d’un nouveau-né. Le petit Hermès porte l’attribut de son futur statut divin : logé dans son berceau en forme de liknon, il est coiffé du pétase, le chapeau à large bord du voyageur, et non du bonnet des bébés (Fig. 5).

Figure 5

Coupe, Vatican, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco 16582. Dessin V. Dasen

30 Le lange est parfois très lâche ; l’hydrie du peintre de Kléophradès (vers 470 av. J.-C.)67 montre ainsi le petit Hermès (ou Héraclès ?) dont les bras bougent librement sous l’étoffe, les pieds nus, dans les bras d’Iris (Fig. 6). Sur une amphore de New York (vers 490 – 480 av. J.-C.)68, Zeus transporte Dionysos qui est enveloppé d’une fine étoffe constellée de points comme le chiton de son père (Fig. 7) ; ses bras sont cachés, mais ses pieds sont libres. Sur le cratère en cloche du peintre d’Altamura (vers 460 av. J.-C.)69, une nymphe tient encore le souple tissu brodé qui enveloppait l’enfant Dionysos avant que celui-ci soit posé sur les genoux de son père Zeus (Fig. 8).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 50

Figure 6

Hydrie, München, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek, 2426. Photo Renate Kühling

Figure 7

Amphore, New York, Metropolitan Museum L1982.27.8. Dessin V. Dasen

Kernos, 27 | 2014 51

Figure 8

Cratère en cloche, Ferrare, Museo Nazionale di Spina, 2738 (T311). Dessin F. Lissarrague

31 Le témoignage des terres cuites grecques révèle d’autres détails. Quand l’enfant n’est pas nu, le lange qui l’enveloppe est d’ordinaire lâche70. Il est parfois retenu par des cordelettes, comme le montre une figurine de Thèbes (Fig. 9)71. Une terre cuite du sanctuaire d’Artémis à Mounychie(finIVe siècle av. J.-C.) 72 révèle l’existence d’une méthode astucieuse pour gérer les besoins naturels du tout-petit. Bien ficelé par devant, le lange ménage au dos un espace libre qui laisse les fesses à l’air. Cette figurine unique ne permet cependant pas de conclure à un usage systématique de ce dispositif efficace qui n’a pas laissé de trace dans les sources écrites et ne semble pas avoir existé à l’époque romaine73.

Figure 9

Terre cuite (H. 5,5 cm), Olympie, Musée archéologique 74. D’après F. Marx, « Dioskurenartige Gottheiten », Archäologischer Anzeiger 10, 1885, p. 83 (ﬁg.)

32 En résumé, si les textes se taisent sur la technique d’emmaillotement, les images montrent des nouveau-nés enveloppés d’un tissu généralement épais qui entoure complètement leur corps, tandis que la tête est souvent protégée par un bonnet pointu. Cette immobilité est recherchée, car la croissance du tout-petit dépend de la qualité de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 52

son sommeil qui le fait lentement émerger dans le monde des vivants74. Elle imprègne tant l’imaginaire qu’un caillou peut être substitué à un nouveau-né (Fig. 4).

33 Le nourrisson plus grand est emmailloté de manière plus souple dans un tissu qui laisse les pieds libres et permet de bouger les bras. Un lécythe à fond blanc de Berlin (vers 460 av. J.-C.)75, montre une scène de départ de guerrier (Fig. 10). Un couple debout se fait face : l’homme tend son casque, tandis que la femme tient un petit enfant dont les bras remuent, visiblement libres sous le tissu court qui laisse dépasser les pieds76.

Figure 10

Lécythe, Berlin, Staatliche Sammlungen F 2444. Dessin V. Dasen

34 La grande majorité des enfants plus grands, en phase d’apprentissage de la marche, vers l’âge d’un an, sont représentés nus, avec un corps potelé, accroupis ou en train de ramper. Quand des vêtements sont montrés, le type varie selon le sexe. Les petites filles sont revêtues d’un fin chiton, comme sur la stèle funéraire de Leiden (vers 420–410 av. J.-C.)77 où la servante tend à la mère une fillette qui gigote. Les petits garçons ont le bas du corps drapé d’un tissu qui entrave leur mobilité, comme sur un chous de la fin du Ve siècle (Fig. 11)78. Cet accessoire vestimentaire peu commode rappelle que les Anciens ne cherchaient pas à faire marcher l’enfant trop vite.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 53

Figure 11

Chous, Bryn Mawr College P104. Photo © Bryn Mawr College Special Collections

35 Nous relèverons que plusieurs représentations mettent en scène un langage corporel propre à l’art grec. La mère ou la nourrice porte parfois l’enfant enroulé dans un pan de son vêtement, signe à la fois de leur intimité physique et du souci de protéger le tout- petit. Sur la célèbre stèle d’Ampharété (vers 430–420 av. J.-C.)79, l’enfant est enveloppé dans le peplos de sa grand-mère (Fig. 12), comme il l’est aussi sur le relief funéraire d’Anavyssos80, où l’on distingue le voile rejoignant la tête de l’enfant enserrée dans la main maternelle. Le petit est parfois profondément niché dans l’himation de sa mère, ne faisant qu’un avec elle, comme le fils d’Héraclès sur un cratère à colonnettes de Padula (vers 480 av. J.-C.)(Fig. 13)81.

Figure 12

Stèle en marbre, Athènes, Musée du Céramique P 695. Photo DAI-ATH-Kerameikos 2478.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 54

Figure 13

Cratère à colonettes, Padula, Museo Archeologico T.xliii. Dessin V. Dasen

Vêtement et anthropoieisis

36 De nombreuses questions concernent la layette du nouveau-né grec : qui fabriquait les vêtements du futur bébé, et quand les confectionnait-on ? Dans la pièce de Ménandre, Pataikos explique que son épouse a tissé elle-même l’étoffe qui enveloppait les nouveau-nés jumeaux, sans préciser si elle l’avait réalisé avant son mariage ou pendant sa grossesse82. Chez Euripide, le peplos qui emballait le petit Ion était l’œuvre d’une parthenos, séduite, mais non mariée. L’image de la tête de la Gorgone renvoie aux stratégies protectrices des mères, multipliant les moyens d’assurer la survie du nouveau-né ; l’auteur souligne ainsi l’attachement de Créuse, tissant un motif puissant destiné à écarter les dangers que l’enfant abandonné allait affronter. Quelques textes évoquent des travaux de jeunes filles. Électre reconnaît ainsi Oreste à la vue d’une étoffe que son frère porte et qu’elle a réalisée dans sa jeunesse83. Aucun texte cependant ne spécifie qu’elles constituent un trousseau en prévision de leur mariage et d’une maternité.

37 La question relative au mode de fabrication en entraîne une seconde à propos de la durée de ce premier vêtement : que devenait le lange quand l’enfant le quittait pour son premier habit, ou s’il mourait avant ? Ces étoffes étaient-elles réemployées pour le bébé suivant ou étaient-elles offertes dans un sanctuaire ?

38 On sait l’importance des offrandes de vêtements dans les sanctuaires d’Artémis, révérée sous l’épiclèse de Chitône ou Chitônia84. Les inventaires d’Artémis Brauronia livrent de longues listes de tissus votifs désignés par différents termes difficiles à interpréter en raison de leur polysémie85. L’occasion du don peut être une naissance heureuse86, ou dramatique, si la mère meurt. Le célèbre passage de l’Iphigénie en Tauride d’Euripide 87 évoque les offrandes de vêtements des femmes mortes en couches, consacrés à Iphigénie dans le sanctuaire d’Artémis à Brauron : « Et toi, Iphigénie, près des saintes collines de Brauron, tu seras porte-clefs de son temple : on t’y inhumera après ta mort ;

Kernos, 27 | 2014 55

à toi, l’on y consacrera les somptueux tissus (peplos) que laisseront chez elles les femmes mortes en couches »88. Ces pièces de tissus sont généralement interprétées comme les vêtements portés pendant la grossesse et souillés par l’accouchement dont le don participe aux rites de purification89. La layette du bébé était-elle aussi consacrée ? L’examen du vocabulaire permet de le suggérer.

39 Les listes comportent toutes sortes de pièces de tissus qui sont des vêtements d’enfants, sans préciser les circonstances de leur consécration. À Milet, l’inventaire provenant probablement d’un sanctuaire d’Artémis (IIe siècle av. J.-C.) mentionne un petit manteau pourpré, chlandion, ainsi qu’une petite robe à bordure pourpre, euparuphon, d’enfants, paidika 90. Des habits que l’incription qualifie « d’enfant », chitoniskos et chlaniskion paidiou, se trouvent aussi dans les inventaires de Brauron, Tanagra, Thèbes et Délos91. L. Cleland relève que l’usage de formes diminutives, comme chitonion et krokotinon, pourrait indiquer la présence d’autres vêtements d’enfant92.

40 Le relief funéraire de Munich, dédié à la petite Plangon (vers 340–320 av. J.‑C.)93, semble faire référence à ce genre d’offrandes (Fig. 14). La fillette est debout, vêtue de son chiton, face à une oie, tenant d’une main une poupée aux membres tronqués, de l’autre un oiseau. L’image concentre l’évocation de deux moments différents dans la vie de l’enfant, l’un accompli, l’autre projeté. Sur le fond du relief, une sorte de vêtement à manches longues pliées pourrait représenter le premier habit que l’enfant a quitté et qui a été dédié dans un sanctuaire en reconnaissance de l’accomplissement d’une première étape. Le grand sac suspendu et la poupée dans la main de la fillette renvoient à une deuxième transition importante, inaccomplie cette fois, celle du dépôt des jouets, symbolisés par le sac d’osselets, et de la poupée dans le sanctuaire au moment du mariage94.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 56

Figure 14

Stèle en marbre, München, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek, Gl 199. Photo Renate Kühling

41 Quant aux langes, qui précèdent ce premier vêtement, étaient-ils aussi dédiés dans le sanctuaire ? Les termes spargana et telamon qui les désignent ne se trouvent pas dans les inscriptions des inventaires. Mais peut-être sont-ils indiqués par un autre mot qui n’a jusqu’ici pas été identifié ? Rhakos, qui apparaît régulièrement dans les listes d’offrandes, est d’ordinaire traduit par l’adjectif « usagé » ou par le substantif « chiffon ». T. Linders95 avait proposé d’y voir des vêtements déjà portés, P. Brulé96, à la suite d’A. Mommsen, les linges des premières règles, tout en relevant que l’usage du terme avec ce sens n’est pas attesté, avant de se rallier à l’hypothèse de l’ancienneté de tissus mal conservés défendue par W. Günther97. Récemment, M. Weber propose d’y voir un terme technique désignant un « coupon » d’étoffe encore non travaillé, comme le rhakos dans lequel Ulysse se drape au sortir de l’eau98.

42 Sans contester la présence de tissus déchirés et inutilisables, ne pourrait-on pas interpréter comme des langes certaines des étoffes désignées par le terme rhakos ? Les langes constituent une catégorie particulière de vêtements, caractérisés par le fait d’être volontiers fabriqués dans de vieux tissus que l’usure a rendu souple. On retrouve le terme associé au soin du nouveau-né chez Soranos ; avant de masser l’enfant, il conseille de déposer sur les genoux un linge désigné par le terme rhakos qui dit à la fois sa simplicité et sa douceur pour la peau du petit99.

43 Comme on l’a vu, spargana est attesté chez Aristophane comme synonyme de rhakos100, ce qui permet de suggérer l’équivalence et d’identifier des langes dans les offrandes vestimentaires. La layette pourrait être consacrée dans les sanctuaires à un moment de transition placé sous la protection de la divinité. La principale occasion pourrait être celle où l’on ôte à l’enfant son sparganon pour le revêtir de son premier habit (chitonion, chlaniskion)101. Parmi les signes de bonne croissance de l’enfant, le moment de l’apparition de la première dent, vers six mois, pourrait avoir constitué l’occasion de ce passage102. La dentition marque un premier achèvement de l’enfant, associé à un changement de régime alimentaire, l’introduction de nourriture solide. Cette période est redoutée, car l’enfant manifeste toutes sortes de troubles inquiétants, fièvres, inflammation des gencives, qui font craindre le pire.

44 Un témoignage iconographique pourrait se rapporter à ce moment de transition. Le fameux relief en marbre trouvé en 1979 à Achinos (vers 300 av. J.-C.)103 montre la présentation d’un petit enfant à Artémis, probablement pour placer sa croissance sous la protection divine. La scène représente l’enfant accompagné par trois femmes, précédées d’un sacrificateur, dans le sanctuaire (Fig. 15). Debout à l’extrémité droite, la déesse, de taille surhumaine, accueille la procession ; elle s’appuye sur un pilier et tient de la main droite une torche, tandis qu’un carquois dépasse au-dessus de son épaule droite, deux attributs qui renvoient à l’ambivalence de ses compétences, tantôt salvatrices, tantôt menaçantes104 ; l’objet manquant tenu de la main gauche pourrait être un arc105. Devant Artémis, un autel marque la séparation du plan humain et divin. Un sacrificateur s’approche en tenant par une corne le taureau, une offrande de prestige, qu’il va égorger avec un couteau. Il est suivi par une femme que son rôle semble désigner comme la nourrice106 ; elle soulève l’enfant, vêtu d’un chiton, qui tend les bras avec vigueur en direction d’Artémis107. Sa vivacité traduit son jeune âge, tout comme le fait d’être encore porté108. Derrière elles, une servante aux cheveux courts

Kernos, 27 | 2014 57

tient dans la main droite un petit vase à libation et porte sur sa tête un plateau d’offrandes de fruits, de gâteaux et de végétaux. La dernière femme du cortège, de grande taille, est élégamment drapée dans son himation, la tête voilée ; son allure semble indiquer qu’il s’agit de la commanditaire fortunée du relief et probablement de la mère de l’enfant ; elle tient une main levée en geste d’adoration, et dans l’autre une boîte109.

Figure 15

Relief en marbre (1,21 × 0,68 m), d’Achinos, Musée de Lamia AE 1041. Photo © XIVe Éphorie des Antiquités Préhistoriques et Classiques, Lamia

45 À l’arrière-plan, une série de vêtements sont suspendus à une corde, de gauche à droite, une paire de chaussures, une tunique à manches, deux pièces d’étoffes frangées, une ceinture et un peplos. Ces tissus sont d’ordinaire interprétés comme les habits que les femmes dédiaient à Artémis en remerciement pour un accouchement réussi110. Certaines pièces d’étoffe, cependant, pourraient aussi se rapporter à l’enfant, le sujet principal de la cérémonie, qui occupe le centre de la scène. Les deux longues bandes de tissus, de largeur différente, aux extrémités frangées, qui se trouvent sur le fond du relief derrière l’enfant ont été jusqu’ici identifiées à deux sortes de châles ou des draps de lit111. Ne pourrait-il pas s’agir de spargana, dont les franges imitent l’égide enserpentée qui enveloppe le petit Ion ? S. Cole relève avec justesse que la cérémonie doit représenter le passage à un nouveau cycle pour la mère et l’enfant112. Il pourrait s’agir du moment du passage au premier vêtement, celui dont le petit est revêtu au premier plan. La cérémonie marquerait une deuxième étape de la croissance de l’enfant, vers une alimentation solide, sous la protection d’Artémis en sa qualité de kourotrophos.

Abréviations

46 ABV : J.D. BEAZLEY, Attic Black-Figure Vase-Painters, Oxford, 1956.

47 ARV : J.D. BEAZLEY, Attic Red-Figure Vase-Painters, 2e éd, Oxford, 1963.

48 BA : Beazley Archive, base de données en ligne : .

49 CAT : Ch.W. CLAIRMONT, Classical Attic Tombstones, Kilchberg, 1993, 8 vols.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 58

NOTES

*. Une première version de cet article a été présentée au colloque de Poitiers « Corps imagés, corps en images dans l’Antiquité » (7 mars 2013) organisé avec Lydie Bodiou et Francis Prost que je remercie pour leurs remarques ainsi que Pierre Brulé. 1. Soranos d’Éphèse, Traité des maladies des femmes de Soranos d’Éphèse, Texte établi, traduit et commenté par P. BURGUIÈRE, D. GOUREVITCH, Y. MALINAS, t. II, Livre II, Paris, Les Belles Lettres, 1990 (CUF). 2. Soranos, Maladies des femmes II, 6a. Sur le terme, P. CHANTRAINE, s.v. σπαργῶ, Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque. Histoire des mots, IV, 1, Paris, 1977, p. 1033. 3. CHANTRAINE, o.c. (n. 2), s.v. ῥάκος, p. 966. 4. Les représentations d’enfants en langes dans les sanctuaires d’Italie centrale (ΙΙΙe siècle av. J.-C. – Ιer siècle apr. J.-C.) sont souvent mises en relation avec cette description, mais sans parfaitement y correspondre, comme le relève O. de CAZANOVE, « Enfants en langes : pour quels vœux ? », in G. GRECO, B. FERRARA (éd.), Doni agli dei. Il sistema dei doni votivi nei santuari, Napoli, 2008, p. 271–284 ; O. DE CAZANOVE, « Enfants au maillot en contexte cultuel en Italie et en Gaule », Dossiers d’archéologie 356 (2013), p. 8–13. Sur Paestum, R.M. AMMERMAN, « Children at Risk. Votive Terracottas and the Welfare of Infants at Paestum », in A. COHEN, J. RUTTER (éd.), Constructions of Childhood in Ancient Greece and Italy, Princeton, 2007 (Hesperia, suppl. 41), p. 131–151. Pour les Romains et Gallo-Romains, voir G. COULON, L’enfant en Gaule romaine, Paris, 2004. 5. Soranos, Maladies des femmes II, 6a ; CHANTRAINE, o.c. (n. 2), s.v. τελαμών, p. 1100. 6. Hérodote, VII, 181 (une bande pour les plaies) ; II, 86 (des bandelettes de momie). En latin, le terme fascia désigne toute bande enroulée en spirale ; G. LAFAYE, s.v. « Fascia », in Ch. DAREMBERG et E. SAGLIO, Dictionnaire des antiquités grecques et romaines, II, Paris, 1896, col. 979–983. 7. Anthologie Palatine XI, 125. 8. Trad. R. Aubreton, CUF. 9. Soranos, Maladies des femmes II, 15 (42). 10. Trad. Burguière – Gourevitch – Malinas, CUF. 11. Voir aussi le souci de ne pas engourdir le bras droit en mettant l’enfant au sein ; Soranos, Maladies des femmes, II, 13 (37) ; E. HUMER, « Linkshändigkeit in der Antike — eine Behinderung ? », in R. BREITWEISER (éd.), Behinderungen und Beeinträchtigungen — Disability and Impairement in Antiquity, Oxford, 2012 (BAR, 2359), p. 123–130. 12. Hippocrate, Du régime I, 33, 1 (VI, 510–513 LITTRÉ). Elle est reprise à l’époque romaine : Galien, De sanitate tuenda I, 7 (VI, 31–37 KÜHN) ; Soranos, Maladies des femmes II, 6 ; II, 12. Cette malléabilité du corps est associée à celle de l’âme qui est comparée à une cire vierge où tout va s’imprimer ; Plutarque, De l’éducation des enfants, 5. 13. Platon, Lois VII, 789e. Sur la postérité de cette croyance à l’époque romaine, voir D. GOUREVITCH, « Comment rendre à sa véritable nature le petit monstre humain ? » in Ph. J. VAN DER EIJK et al. (éd.), Ancient Medicine in its Socio-Cultural Context. Papers Read at the Congress Held at Leiden University 13–15 April 1992, I, Amsterdam, 1995, p. 239–260 ; J. BERTIER, « La médecine des enfants à l’époque impériale », in ANRW II, 37.3 (1996), spéc. p. 2172–2173 ; S.R. HOLMAN, « Modeled as Wax : Formation and Feeding of the Ancient Newborn », Helios 24 (1997), p. 77–95 ; D. BACALEXI, « Responsabilités féminines : sages-femmes, nourrices et mères chez quelques médecins de l’Antiquité et de la Renaissance », Gesnerus 62 (2005), p. 5–32. 14. Platon, Lois VII, 789e-790a. 15. Le lait de la mère ou de la nourrice poursuit la formation de l’enfant après la naissance. V. DASEN, « Des nourrices grecques à Rome ? » in V. PACHE HUBER, V. DASEN (éd.), Politics of Child Care in

Kernos, 27 | 2014 59

Historical Perspective. From the World of Wet Nurses to the Networks of Family Child Care Providers, Special Issue, Paedagogica Historica, 46, 6 (2010), p. 699–713. 16. Sur le souci des parents grecs de ne pas laisser marcher l’enfant trop tôt, A.E. HANSON, « ‘Your Mother Nursed You with Bile’: Anger in Babies and Small Children », in S. BRAUND, G.W. MOST (éd.), Ancient Anger. Perspectives from Homer to Galen, Cambridge, 2003, p. 185–207, spéc. p. 198–200. 17. Trad. E. des Places, CUF. 18. Plutarque, De l’amour de la progéniture, 494c (trad. J. Defradas et J. Dumortier, CUF). Voir aussi Élien, Personnalité des animaux II, 19 ; Aristote, Histoire des animaux, 579a. 19. Platon, Alcibiade I, 12d. Une pratique déjà évoquée dans le traité hippocratique Du régime I, 19 : « Les tanneurs étendent, pressent, peignent, lavent : le traitement des enfants est le même » (trad. R. Joly, CUF). 20. Trad. M. Croiset, CUF. 21. M. SEIFERT, Dazugehören. Kinder in griechischen Kulten und Festen von Oikos und Phratrie. Bildanalysen zu attischen Sozialisationsstufen des 6. bis 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Stuttgart, 2011, p. 87– 88 ; V. DASEN, « Corps d’enfants : de l’anatomie à l’anthropologie du corps », in H. PERDICOYANNI- PALEOLOGOU (éd.), History of Anatomy and Surgery from Antiquity to the Renaissance, Amsterdam, 2014, sous presse. Sur le plan mythique, le récit des malheurs du petit Opheltès renvoie aussi à ce souci. L’enfant mourut dévoré par un serpent à cause de sa nourrice à qui un oracle avait recommandé d’éviter de poser l’enfant à terre avant qu’il ne puisse marcher. Sur le destin d’Opheltès- Archémoros, C.O. PACHE, Baby and Child Heroes in Ancient Greece, Urbana / Chicago, 2004, spéc. p. 106. 22. Paris, Musée du Louvre CA 2961, non attribué ; BA 16011 ; G. VAN HOORN, Choes and Anthesteria, Leiden, 1951, no 855, fig. 42. 23. Hippocrate, Des airs, des eaux et des lieux XX (trad. Littré II, 75). 24. Hippocrate, Des fractures, 22, 3 : « Je suis porté à penser qu’une gouttière qui embrasserait en dessous le membre inférieur depuis l’ischion jusqu’au pied serait utile ; d’ailleurs une écharpe (tainia), entourerait d’une manière lâche le jarret avec la gouttière, comme les enfants sont emmaillotés (σπαργανοῦται) dans leur lit » (trad. Littré III, 491–493). 25. Histoire des animaux, 584b 3–5. 26. Trad. P. Louis, CUF. 27. Sur l’association de la laine avec la texture du corps féminin, Hippocrate, Des maladies des femmes I, 1 : « En voici la preuve : mettez par-dessus de l’eau ou même en un lieu humide, pendant deux jours et deux nuits, de la laine nettoyée et un drap nettoyé d’un tissu dense, pesant exactement autant que la laine. Quand vous les retirerez, vous trouverez à la balance que la laine est devenue beaucoup plus pesante que le drap » (trad. Littré, VIII, 12–13). 28. Aristote, Politique VII, 17, 2 (1336a). 29. Plutarque, Lycurgue, 16, 4. 30. Aristote, Politique VII, 17, 2 (1336a). 31. CHANTRAINE, o.c. (n. 2), s.v. φᾶρος, p. 1179. 32. Hymne homérique à Apollon I, 120–122. 33. Hymne homérique à Apollon I, 126–128 : « Mais après que tu eus, Phoibos, consommé l’aliment immortel, les bandelettes d’or ne suffisaient plus à te contenir, tant tu te débattais ; ces entraves ne t’arrêtaient plus, et cédait tout ce qui limitait ta volonté » (trad. J. Humbert, CUF). 34. Pindare, Pythique IV, 114 : « … en secret m’éloignèrent dans mes langes de pourpre (σπαργάνοις ἐν πορφυρέοις), confiant à la nuit ma route » (trad. A. Puech, CUF). 35. Pindare, Néméennes I, 38 : « Je veux dire comment il ne se coucha pas dans ses langes couleur de safran (κροκωτὸν σπάργανον), sans qu’Héra, la déesse du trône d’or, l’aperçût » (trad. A. Puech, CUF).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 60

36. Pindare, Péans fr. 52u : « [Héraclès]…de sa main de ses membres arracha son lange brodé (ποικίλον σπάργανον) et révéla sa nature » (trad. J.-P. Savignac, La Différence). Sur la question, voir p. ex. M. VICKERS, Images on Textiles. The Weave of Fifth-Century Athenian Art and Society, Konstanz, 1999, spéc. p. 20 ; R. REUTHNER, Wer webte Athenes Gewänder ? Die Arbeit von Frauen im antiken Griechenland, Frankfurt / New York, 2006, p. 204–211 ; A. GRAND-CLÉMENT, « Du bon usage du vêtement bariolé en Grèce ancienne », in L. BODIOUet al.(éd.), Parures et artifices : le corps exposé dans l’Antiquité, Paris, 2011, p. 264–265. 37. Euripide, Ion, 955 : « pour lange il reçut mon manteau, peplos », et v. 1351 : « les langes, spargana, où nous t’avons trouvé ». 38. Euripide, Ion, 1421–1423. 39. Ménandre, La tondue, 135 (spargana) et 755–773 (ta poikila). Plus loin (822), Glykera montre aussi un petit manteau transparent, diaphanes chlanidion. 40. Eschyle, Choéphores, 754–760. 41. Aristophane, Acharniens, 430–433. 42. Trad. H. Van Daele, CUF. 43. Eschyle, Choéphores,543–546. 44. Trad. P. Mazon, CUF. Voir aussi ibid. 529 : « Le Coryphée — Elle, comme un enfant, l’abritait dans des langes (ἐν σπαργάνοισι παιδὸς ὁρμίσαι δίκην). » 45. Hésiode, Théogonie, 485–488. 46. Trad. P. Mazon, CUF. 47. Lycophron, Alexandra, 1200–1202 (trad. C. Chauvin et Chr. Cusset, L’Harmattan). 48. Hymne homérique à Hermès,150–151. 49. Trad. J. Humbert, CUF. 50. Hymne homérique à Hermès,236. 51. Hymne homérique à Hermès,305. 52. Hymne homérique à Hermès,267–268 (trad. J. Humbert, CUF). 53. Voir le corpus votif et funéraire réuni par SEIFERT, o.c. (n. 21). Sur la représentation du corps de l’enfant, DASEN, o.c. (n. 21). 54. München, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek 2413 ; ARV2 495.1, 1656, Hermonax ; BA 205571 ; E.D. REEDER, Pandora, Women in Classical Greece, Princeton, 1995, p. 255–256, fig. 68 ; J. NEILS, J.H. OAKLEY (éd.), Coming of Age in Ancient Greece, Images of Childhood from the Classical Past, New Haven, 2003, p. 89, fig. 3. 55. Palerme, Museo Arch. Regionale 2365 ; ARV2 1339.3 ; BA 217525 ; REEDER, o.c. (n. 54), p. 262–264, fig. 72. On relèvera que le bas du corps de l’enfant est enveloppé d’un linge uni. 56. London, British Museum E 182 ; ARV2 580.2 ; BA 206695 ; REEDER, o.c. (n. 54), p. 253–255, fig. 67. 57. P. ex. Hydrie, Gêne 1155 ; ARV2 1472.4, P. de Bologne 417 ; BA 211143 ; C. BÉRARD, Anodoi. Essai sur l’imagerie des passages chthoniens, Berne, 1974, p. 153–160, pl. 14, fig. 47. Sur l’importance iconique des tissus dans les scènes de naissance d’Aphrodite, voir aussi G. PIRONTI, « Du voile à la voile : réflexions sur l’Aphrodite en voyage et ses parures », in F. GHERCHANOC, V. HUET (éd.), Corps, gestes et vêtements des divinités dans l’Antiquité grecque, romaine et gallo-romaine : une lecture historique et anthropologique, Actes du colloque international de Brest, 21–22 juin 2012, Université de Bretagne Occidentale, CRBC, à paraître. 58. Malibu, J.P. Getty Museum 86.AE.286 ; Para 367.1bis ; BA 275946 ; K. SCHEFOLD, F. JUNG, Die Sagen von den Argonauten, von Theben und Troia in der klassischen und hellenistischen Kunst, München, 1989, p. 261, fig. 238. 59. P. ex. Houston, Museum of Fine Arts 37.25, d’Athènes ; CAT 2.795 (fig.) ; REEDER, o.c. (n. 54), p. 337–338, fig. 105 ; NEILS – OAKLEY, o.c. (n. 54), no 20, p. 223–224. 60. London, British Museum 1894.6–16.1 ; CAT 2.786 (fig.). Voir aussi le nouveau-né enveloppé dans un tissu épais, p. ex. Lyme Park, Cheshire ; CAT 1.819 (fig.) ; A. SCHOLL, Die attischen

Kernos, 27 | 2014 61

Bildfeldstelen des 4. Jhs. V. Chr., Untersuchungen zu den kleinformatigen Grabreliefs im spätklassischen Athen, Berlin, 1996, no 443, pl. 11, 1. Athènes, Musée épigraphique 10432 ; CAT 1.891 (fig.) ; SCHOLL, ibid., no 34, pl. 44, 1. Paris, Musée du Louvre Ma 3113 ; CAT 4.910 (fig.) ; NEILS – OAKLEY, o.c. (n. 54), p. 185, fig. 27 61. Calymnos, Musée archéologique 3900 ; D. BOSNAKIS, « Επιτύμβια ανάγλυφη στήλη με παράσταση θηλάζουσας από την Κάλυμνο », AD 58–64 (2003–2009) [2012], Α’ Μελέτες, 377–390 (avec bibliographie sur le motif de l’allaitement) ; id., « L’allaitement maternel : une image exceptionnelle dans l’iconographie funéraire ? », Dossiers d’archéologie 356 (2013), p. 58–59. 62. Le bonnet pointu est représenté sur de nombreuses stèles, p. ex. CAT 2.893 ; 3.866 ; 3.882 ; 3.932 ; 4.930. 63. Volos, Musée archéologique Athanasakeion Λ1 ; J.J. POLLITT, Art in the Hellenistic Age, Cambridge, 1986, p. 5 et 194, fig. 3 ; Chr. A. SALOWEY, « Women on Hellenistic Grave Stelai : Reading Images and Texts », in Sh. L. JAMES, Sh. DILLON (éd.), A Companion to Women in the Ancient World, Chichester, 2012, p. 252–253, fig. 18.1. 64. New York, Metropolitan Museum 06.1021.144 ; ARV2 1107.10, P. de Nausicaa ; BA 214648 ; NEILS – OAKLEY, o.c. (n. 54), no 4, p. 205–206. 65. Paris, Musée du Louvre E 702 ; M. STARK, Ikonographische Untersuchung zu den Darstellungskonzeptionen von Gott und Kind bzw. Gott und Mensch in der griechischen Kunst, Stuttgart, 2012, pl. 2. 66. Vatican, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco Vaticano 16582 ; ARV2 369.6 ; BA 203905 ; STARK, o.c. (n. 65), pl. 3. 67. München, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek 2426 ; ARV2 189.76 ; BA 201722 ; STARK, o.c. (n. 65), pl. 4 et 5a. 68. New York, Metropolitan Museum L1982.27.8, P. d’Eucharidès ; BA 9025040. Voir aussi le lange similaire d’Héraclès porté par Hermès sur une amphore à figures noires de Vulci (vers 510–500 av. J.-C.) ; München, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek 1615A ; ABV 484, 6, P. Dot- Band Class ; STARK, o.c. (n. 65), pl. 24. 69. Ferrare, Museo Nazionale di Spina 2738 (T311) ; ARV2 593.41 ; BA 206865 ; STARK, o.c. (n. 65), pl. 9b. 70. Cf. la terre cuite, de Thèbes ; Athènes, Musée national 12649 ; V. DASEN, Jumeaux, jumelles dans l’Antiquité grecque et romaine, Kilchberg, 2005, p. 211, fig. 143. Voir aussi la nymphe Tyrô portant ses jumeaux emmaillotés ; terre cuite de Tanagra (?) ; DASEN, ibid., p. 209–210, fig. 140. 71. Olympie, Musée archéologique 74 ; DASEN, o.c. (n. 70), p. 211, fig. 144. 72. Athènes, Musée archéologique du Pirée B 5383 ; L. PALAIOKRASSA, To hiero tes Artemidos Mounichias, Athènes, 1991, p. 119, no E 86, pl. 1 ; L. BEAUMONT, Childhood in Ancient Athens, Iconography and Social History, London/New York, 2012, p. 38, fig. 2.6 (face) et p. 50–51, fig. 3.5 (dos). 73. Cf. Galien dénonce les mauvais soins d’une nourrice qui ne change pas l’enfant : « Quant à moi, une fois, alors qu’un petit enfant avait passé la journée entière à pleurer et à se mettre en colère, et à s’agiter violemment et dans tous les sens, je découvris ce qui n’allait pas, alors que la nourrice était complètement perdue. (…) j’examinai son lit, ses couvertures et ses langes, et les trouvai particulièrement sales. Quant au bébé lui-même, il était sale et n’était pas lavé. J’ordonnai de laver et de nettoyer l’enfant ; de changer le lit, et de lui remplacer tous ses habits par des propres. Ceci fait, l’enfant cessa immédiatement tout mouvement violent et sur-le-champ s’endormit d’un sommeil très doux et très profond » (trad. D. Gourevitch, in Soranos, Maladie des femmes II, 13, note 230, p. 107–108). 74. Aristote, Génération des animaux V,1 (778b 28). 75. Berlin, Staatliche Sammlungen F 2444 ; ARV2 746.14, P. d’Athènes 1826 ; BA 209215 ; J.H. OAKLEY, Picturing Death in Classical Athens. The Evidence of the White Lekythoi, Cambridge, 2004, fig. 39,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 62

p. 66 ; M.-C. CRELIER, Kinder in Athen im gesellschaftlichen Wandel des 5. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Eine archäologische Annaherung, Remshalden, 2008, p. 128, L8 (fig.). 76. Voir aussi Hermès avec le petit Dionysos sur le cratère du Museo Gregoriano Etrusco Vaticano 16586 (559) ; ARV2 1017.54, P. de la Phiale ; BA 214232 ; J.H. OAKLEY, The Phiale Painter, Kerameus 8, Mainz, 1990, pl. 38, no. 54 ; STARK, o.c. (n. 65), pl. 11 b. 77. Leiden, Rijksmuseum I 1903/2.1 ; CAT 2.652 ; H. FOLEY, « Mothers and Daughters », in NEILS – OAKLEY,o.c. (n. 54), p. 133, fig. 25. Voir aussi ibid. p. 132, fig. 23, la fillette agenouillée en chiton aux pieds de sa mere assise sur la stèle de Mynnia, Malibu, J.P. Getty Museum 71.AA.121, et les petites filles en chiton sur les choés attiques, p. ex. Athènes, Musée national 1322 ; VAN HOORN, o.c. (n. 22), no 41, fig. 288 ; BA 4188. 78. Bryn Mawr College P104, non attribué ; BA 1600 ; VAN HOORN, o.c. (n. 22), no 429, fig. 274. Sur les stèles funéraires, voir p. ex. CAT 1.715 ; SCHOLL, o.c. (n. 60), no 268 ; pl. 3.2. Voir aussi le grand tissu orné qui drape le bas du corps de Dionysos sur le cratère à volutes de Ferrare, Museo Nazionale di Spina T381 (2737) ; ARV2 589.3, P. d’Altamura ; BA 207139 ; STARK, o.c. (n. 65), pl. 9 a. Voir aussi l’enfant porté par son père sur le relief votif en marbre de l’Asclépiéion du Pirée ; C.L. LAWTON, « Children in Classical Attic Votive Reliefs », in COHEN – RUTTER, o.c. (n. 4), p. 45, fig. 2.2. 79. Athènes, Musée du Céramique P 695 ; CAT 1.660 (fig.). Voir aussi p. ex. le lécythe en marbre, Athènes, Musée du Céramique, MG 51 ; CAT 4.710 (fig.) ; J.H. OAKLEY, « Death and the Child », in NEILS – OAKLEY, o.c. (n. 54), fig. 12, p. 170. 80. Athènes, Musée national, 4472 ; REEDER, o.c. (n. 54), p. 105, fig. 4 ; BEAUMONT, o.c. (n. 72), p. 92– 93, fig. 3.29. 81. Padula, Museo Archeologico T.xliii ; ARV2 1642.5bis, P. de Tyskiewicz ; BA 275157 ; NEILS – OAKLEY, o.c. (n. 54), p. 93, fig. 7b. 82. Cf. supra n. 39. 83. Choéphores, 231–232 ; VICKERS, o.c. (n. 36), p. 13. 84. Sur les offrandes textiles, P. BRULÉ, La fille d’Athènes. La religion des filles à Athènes à l’époque classique : mythes, cultes et société, Paris, 1987, p. 226–238 ; id., « Retour à Brauron. Repentirs, avancées, mises au point », DHA 16.2 (1990), p. 74–77 ; Y. MORIZOT, « Offrandes à Artémis pour une naissance. Autour du relief d’Achinos », in V. DASEN (éd.), Naissance et petite enfance dans l’Antiquité, Fribourg et Göttingen, 2004, p. 159–170. Voir aussi les terres cuites de dédicantes apportant un vêtement à Athéna dans le temple de Francavilla Marittima ; M. KLEIBRINK MAASKANT, Dalla lana all’acqua. Culto e identità nell’Athenaeion di Lagaria, Francavilla Marittima (zona di Sibari, Calabria), Rossano Calabro, 2003, p. 78, fig. 31. 85. Voir L. CLELAND, The Brauron Clothing Catalogues : Text, Analysis, Glossary and Translation, Oxford, 2005. 86. On offre des himatia pour une naissance selon le scholiaste à Callimaque, Hymne à Zeus, 77, et Hymne à Artémis, 225 ; BRULÉ, o.c. 1987 (n. 84), p. 231–232. 87. Euripide, Iphigénie en Tauride, 1464–1467. 88. Trad. L. Parmentier, H. Grégoire, CUF. Ce vêtement dédié pour la défunte pourrait être le curieux ballot de tissu bien plié représenté sur quelques stèles funéraires attiques ; A.G. KALOGEROPOULOU, « A New Attic Grave Stele », AD 29 (1974), p. 194–225. 89. BRULÉ, o.c. 1987 (n. 84), p. 232. 90. W. GÜNTHER, « Vieux et inutilisable dans un inventaire inédit de Milet », in D. KNOEPFLER (éd.), Comptes et inventaires dans la cité grecque, Neuchâtel / Genève, 1988, p. 229, ll. 22–23. 91. CLELAND, o.c. (n. 85), l. 28 (chitoniskos d’enfant, sans inscription) ; l. 40–41 (chlaniskion d’enfant, blanc, avec l’inscription « sacré à Artémis ») ; l. 58 (chitoniskos safran d’enfant, sans inscription) ; l. 108 (chitonion d’enfant à double épaisseur) ; l. 138 (chlaniskion d’enfant dans une boite). Voir aussi REUTHNER, o.c. (n. 36), p. 273 et note 498.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 63

92. CLELAND, o.c. (n. 85), p. 92 « We can suggest that the link between the attribution as ‘child’s’ and the available diminutives of chlanis, makes it more likly that other avalailable diminutives […] also refer to children’s garments ». p. ex. l. 323b et 322b (krokotinon). C. Prêtre attire cependant l’attention sur la surinterprétation possible des marques suffixales dans les inventaires : C. PRÊTRE, « Imitation et miniature. Étude de quelques suffixes dans le vocabulaire délien de la parure », BCH 121 (1997), p. 673–680. 93. München, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek Gl 199 ; CAT 0869a (fig.). Sur l’interprétation de la poupée comme offrande, J. REILLY, « Naked and Limbless. Learning about the Feminine Body in Ancient Athens », in A.O. KOLOSKI-OSTROW, C.L. LYONS (éd.), Naked Truths. Women, Sexuality and Gender in Classical Art and Archaeology, London / New York, p. 154–173. 94. Plusieurs épigrammes font références à l’offrande de jouets au moment de quitter l’enfance, qui correspond au mariage pour les filles, p. ex. Anthologie Palatine VI, 276 et 280 ; P. BRULÉ, « Des osselets et des tambourins pour Artémis », Clio. Histoire, femmes et sociétés 4 (1996) DOI : 10.4000/ clio.429 (rééd. in La Grèce d’à côté. Réel et imaginaire en miroir en Grèce antique, Rennes, 2007, p. 69– 83) ; V. DASEN, « De la Grèce à Rome : Des jouets pour grandir ? », in D. CHARLES, B. GIRVEAU (dir.), Des jouets et des hommes, Paris, 2011, p. 53–59. 95. T. LINDERS, Studies in the Treasure Records of Artemis Brauronia, Stockholm, 1972, p. 13. 96. BRULÉ,o.c. 1987 (n. 84), p. 233–4. Sur les linges menstruels, A. MOMMSEN, « ῥάκος auf attische Inschriften », Philologus 58 (1899), p. 343–347. Contra : p. ex. S. MILANEZI, « Beauty in Rags : On Rhakos in Aristophanic Theatre », in L. CLELANDet al. (éd.), The Clothed Body in the Ancient World, Oxford, 2005, p. 78–79 ; REUTHNER, o.c. (n. 36), p. 273–274 97. BRULÉ,o.c. 1990 (n. 84), p. 74–76 ; GÜNTHER o.c. (n. 90). Voir aussi CLELAND, o.c. (n. 85), p. 126. 98. Homère, Odyssée VI, 178 ; M. WEBER, « Lumpen für Artemis Brauronia ? Zum Wortgebrauch von hêmiuphes, ktenôtos, kainon, rakos in den Schriftentafeln des Brauronions auf der Akropolois un Athens », Thetis 16–17 (2010), p. 39–42, spéc. p. 41. 99. Maladies des femmes II, 6. 100. Supra n. 41. 101. Dans le monde romain, les offrandes votives d’emmaillotés pourraient aussi se rapporter à un moment de transition, ici de la suppression du maillot au bout d’un mois environ ; voir E.-J. GRAHAM, « The Making of Infants in Hellenistic and Early Roman Italy : a Votive Perspective », World Archaeology 45, 2 (2013), p. 11–13, DOI : 10.1080/00438243.2013.799041. 102. Un traité hippocratique entier est consacré à la dentition (Littré VIII, 542–549). De nombreuses amulettes témoignent de l’importance de ce passage à l’époque romaine, entre six mois et le sevrage, vers deux ou trois ans ; V. DASEN, « Probaskania : Amulets and Magic in Antiquity », in D. BOSCHUNG, J. BREMMER (éd.), Materiality of Magic, München, sous presse, fig. 9–11. Dans la France de l’Ancien Régime, des cadeaux sont offerts au moment de la pousse des premières dents : la marraine offre à l’enfant sa première robe ; F. LOUX, L’ogre et la dent, Paris, 1981, p. 20–22. 103. Musée de Lamia, 1041. F. DAKORONIA, L. GOUNAROPOULOU, « Artemiskult auf einem neuen Weihrelief aus Achinos bei Lamia », MDAI (A) 107 (1992), p. 217–227 ; MORIZOT, o.c. (n. 84) ; J. NEILS, « Children and Greek Religion », in NEILS – OAKLEYo.c. (n. 54), p. 145, fig. 6. 104. Cf. Pausanias, X, 37, 1, sur la statue d’Artémis de Praxitèle à Anticyre avec des deux attributs, le flambeau et le carquois. 105. DAKORONIA – GOUNAROPOULOU, o.c. (n. 103), p. 218–219 proposent différentes hypothèses (flèche, torche, pavot). 106. Selon DAKORONIA — GOUNAROPOULOU, o.c. (n. 103), p. 220, il s’agirait de la mère ; identification reprise par F.T. VAN STRATEN, Hiera Kala. Images of Animal Sacrifice in Archaic and Classical Greece, Leiden et al., 1995, p. 82. Sur la position des nourrices dans l’iconographie du groupe familial, accompagnant les moments de transitions de l’enfant, P. BIRCHLER EMERY, « De la nourrice à la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 64

dame de compagnie : le cas de la trophos en Grèce antique », in V. PACHE HUBER, V. DASEN (éd.), Politics of Child Care in Historical Perspective. From the World of Wet Nurses to the Networks of Family Child Care Providers (Paedagogica Historica 46, 2010), p. 751–761. Sur cette fonction, voir aussi V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, « Nourricières d’immortalité : Déméter, Héra et autres déesses en pays grec », ibid., p. 685–697. 107. M. DILLON, Girls and Women in Classical Greek Religion, London/New York, 2002, p. 355 note 122, y voit un peplos qui l’identifierait sans ambiguïté avec une fillette. 108. Sur la gestualité qui caractérise les plus jeunes, Th. J. MC NIVEN, « Behaving like a Child : Immature Gestures in Athenian Vase Painting », in COHEN – RUTTER, o.c. (n. 4), p. 85–99. 109. DAKORONIA — GOUNAROPOULOU, o.c. (n. 101), p. 221–222, l’identifient à une prêtresse à cause de sa grande taille et de la tête voilée ; elle pourrait être la mère ou belle-mère de la jeune mère. 110. Cf. Euripide, Électre, 1124–1134. Contra : DAKORONIA – GOUNAROPOULOU, o.c. (n. 103), p. 223, pour qui l’offrande de vêtements ne concerne que les femmes mortes en couches. 111. DAKORONIA — GOUNAROPOULOU, o.c. (n. 103), p. 223 (« Bettücher »). 112. S.G. COLE, « Domesticating Artemis », in S. BLUNDELL, M. WILLIAMSON (éd.), The Sacred and the Feminine in Ancient Greece, London/New York, 1998, p. 35.

RÉSUMÉS

L’emmaillotement du nouveau-né et du nourrisson est souvent présenté par les auteurs modernes comme une coutume inscrite dans la longue durée, sans modification notable dans l’espace et le temps. D’une société et d’une époque à l’autre, elle se décline cependant avec des variantes qui peuvent être associées à des pratiques votives en Grèce ancienne. Les offrandes de vêtements dans les sanctuaires grecs sont bien documentées par les sources littéraires et épigraphiques. Dans les inventaires conservés, le nourrisson ne semble être présent qu’au travers des offrandes de vêtements maternels en remerciement pour un heureux accouchement. Différents indices permettent de suggérer que des langes furent aussi offerts à Artémis en sa qualité de kourotrophe lors d’un moment de transition associé à un changement de vêtement, peut-être en relation avec la pousse des dents.

The swaddling of newborn babies and infants is often presented by modern authors as a longstanding custom, with no conspicuous transformation in time and space. Variations in the custom do however occur, which may be associated with votive practices in ancient Greece. Literary and epigraphic evidence records the votive offering of clothes in Greek sanctuaries. In the sanctuary inventories, the infant appears only through the offerings of his mother’s garments as thanks for a happy delivery. Various aspects of the evidence suggest that swaddling clothes were offered to Artemis in her role as kourotrophos at a moment of transition associated with a change of clothes, possibly at the time of teething.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 65

AUTEUR

VÉRONIQUE DASEN Institut du monde antique et byzantin Université de Fribourg 16, rue Pierre-Aeby CH –1700 FRIBOURG [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 66

Les Grecs et le cru Pratiques alimentaires, pratiques rituelles et représentations dionysiaques

Carine Van Liefferinge

1 Oribasie, sparagmos et ômophagie sont traditionnellement considérés comme les trois phases successives du rituel dionysiaque dont la violence bestiale, l’étrangeté ou même simplement la performance physique ont dérangé et conduit, soit à concevoir ces pratiques comme marginales, « a-civiques » mais réelles, soit à émettre des doutes sur leur réalité. Dans une intéressante étude, Monique Halm-Tisserant souligne en effet, à propos de l’ômophagie, le laconisme des sources littéraires et figurées1. Aussi s’intéresse-t-elle plus particulièrement au sparagmos, celui-ci devenant selon elle le point d’orgue du rituel. Pratiqué à mains nues, il comporte une phase de section en deux de la victime en position horizontale, suivie du démembrement de l’animal. Assez étonnamment, la réalité de ce rituel, qui requiert, de la part des bacchantes, une force peu commune, n’est pas ici remise en cause. L’argumentation de l’auteur, fondée essentiellement sur l’iconographie, l’amène au contraire à parler d’un rite dont la réalité est affirmée par la constance des thèmes dans la représentation figurée, qui vient s’ajouter à l’usage d’une terminologie précise dans les textes. Quoi qu’il en soit, on doit à cette recherche d’avoir relancé le débat sur la question de l’ômophagie. M. Halm- Tisserant montre en effet de façon convaincante qu’une fois le démembrement effectué, il n’y a pas consommation des parts de viande crue, mais bien plutôt un lancer rituel de celles-ci, lancer à la symbolique fécondante puisque son objectif serait d’apporter à la terre l’énergie de la chair vivante. Et de conclure : « Tenir le sparagmos dionysiaque pour un rituel d’ensemencement de la terre a pour contrepartie d’ôter à l’ômophagie sa raison d’être »2. Ainsi, par le biais d’une étude sur le sparagmos, en arrive-t-elle à remettre en cause la réalité de l’ômophagie. Nous avons voulu reprendre la question frontalement et, après d’autres, sommes partie à la recherche des traces d’une pratique ômophagique dionysiaque effective. Aucune pièce nouvelle n’est à verser à un dossier déjà maintes fois commenté et interprété. Toutefois, par une étude plus large du « manger cru » dans la culture et l’imaginaire des Grecs et par la mise en regard de leur pratique alimentaire et de certaines pratiques cultuelles en l’honneur de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 67

Dionysos, il nous a semblé possible de cerner, dans des témoignages d’époque, de lieu et de nature différents, des représentations du dieu partagées.

Le « manger cru » dans la pratique alimentaire

2 Personne ne contesterait qu’étudier le mode d’alimentation d’un individu ou d’un peuple puisse révéler les valeurs morales, sociales ou politiques auxquelles il est attaché3. Aussi, avant d’en arriver à l’ômophagie rituelle, avons-nous replacé le « manger cru » dans les habitudes alimentaires des Grecs : les Grecs mangeaient-ils cru ? Que mangeaient-ils cru ? À quels êtres réels ou fictifs le « manger cru » est-il assigné ? Quels débats ont pu susciter la σαρκοφαγία (consommation de viande) et plus particulièrement l’ὠμοφαγία (consommation de viande crue), ce dernier terme n’étant manifestement pas réservé à un cadre rituel ?

3 L’adjectif ὠμός peut évoquer le cru par opposition au cuit dans le cas d’une nourriture quelle qu’elle soit (légume ou viande), le pas mûr dans le cas d’un fruit vert qui n’est pas encore cuit par le soleil4. Divers témoignages attestent que les Grecs absorbaient les aliments crus, bouillis et rôtis/grillés. Au livre II du traité hippocratique du Régime, on trouve un véritable catalogue d’aliments, avec leurs qualités et leurs préparations, considéré par R. Joly comme le plus complet du temps5 ; d’une façon générale, l’auteur du traité affirme que « tout ce qui est grillé et rôti (πυρούμενα καὶ φωζόμενα) est plus resserrant que ce qui est cru parce que, sous l’effet du feu, l’humide, le jus et le gras sont enlevés »6. Ailleurs encore, parlant des fruits du chêne, il avance que les glands sont resserrants, crus ou grillés (ὠμὰ καὶ ὀπτά), bouillis (ἑφθά), ils le sont moins 7. Si l’on se fonde sur ce traité, il semble que ce sont les légumes et les fruits qui sont consommés crus ; à notre connaissance, aucun extrait ne fait mention d’absorption de viande crue. Un passage de Plutarque semble confirmer que le rôti et le bouilli sont les deux modes de préparation des mets puisque, dans son traité sur la colère, il fustige ceux qui se mettent en colère pour la raison futile que les mets sont trop rôtis (ὀπτοισιν) ou trop bouillis (ἑφθοις)8. Plutarque encore, dans les Questions romaines, s’interroge sur les interdits alimentaires du flamen Dialis9 : pourquoi le prêtre de Zeus s’abstient-il de toucher à la farine10 et à la viande crue (σαρκὸς ὠμῆς) ? La réponse avancée est que la farine est une nourriture inachevée (ἀτελής) et non cuite (ἄπεπτος). Pour la question de la viande crue, il propose une alternative : soit c’est parce que la coutume (τὸ ἔθος) détourne de la consommation de viande crue (ὠμοφαγία), soit c’est parce que la viande fraîche et crue n’a pas une apparence pure et sans souillure (οὐδὲ τὴν ὄψιν ἔχει καθαρὰν καὶ ἀμίαντον). On comprend également que la viande crue, comme la farine, se trouve dans un état intermédiaire entre le vivant et la nourriture : « Elle n’est ni un être vivant ni déjà une nourriture cuite ; car la cuisson et le rôtissage, étant une altération et un changement, changent la forme »11. Dans une analyse fondée sur le couple nature/culture, Jean-Pierre Vernant relève cette notion d’impureté qui rend intouchable la viande de l’animal sacrifié qui n’a pas encore reçu, par cuisson, sa pleine forme de mets humains12.

4 Deux notions relevées ci-dessus se retrouvent dans un passagedu discours de Julien Contre les cyniques ignorants, celle d’habitude alimentaire et celle d’impureté de la viande crue. Dans ce discours, il s’en prend aux philosophes cyniques de son temps qui discréditaient même les fondateurs de leur école et, en l’occurrence, qualifiaient de κενόδοξος Diogène, mort suite à la consommation de la chair crue d’un poulpe. On

Kernos, 27 | 2014 68

comprend plus loin le sens de cet adjectif : Diogène, qui visait l’apathie (ἀπάθεια) propre aux dieux, était pris de nausées quand il mangeait de la viande crue, « asservi à une vaine opinion (δόξῃ κενῄ) plus qu’à la raison ». Aussi décida-t-il de se libérer de ce dégoût qu’il considérait comme une faiblesse en s’imposant la consommation de la chair crue d’un poulpe. Julien entreprend alors une digression sur la question de la consommation de viande (σαρκοφαγία). Selon lui, que la viande soit crue ou mille fois cuite, elle n’en reste pas moins de la viande ; la cuisson n’est qu’une question d’usage et d’habitude, et considérer la chair cuite comme pure et mangeable relève de la δόξα. Julien se demande donc pourquoi ne pas consommer la viande tout simplement (ἁπλῶς, opposé à σαρκῶν ἑψημένων), comme le font d’ailleurs ceux qui habitent près de la mer « qui avalent, sans même les faire chauffer, des oursins et des huîtres »13. Cette absorption d’un poulpe cru par Diogène ne relève certainement pas de l’anecdote, mais s’inscrit dans l’intention plus large, de la part des philosophes cyniques, de se démarquer du modèle sacrificiel et donc alimentaire de la cité, ce qui signifie que le manger cru ne semble pas faire partie des habitudes alimentaires des Grecs et, quoi qu’en dise Julien, passe même à leurs yeux pour une pratique sauvage et barbare, propre au monde animal, comme nous allons le voir.

5 Revenons à l’adjectif ὠμός. Il convient encore de signaler qu’il peut être utilisé dans un sens moral, ainsi que son contraire : l’adjectif πέπων, appliqué au fruit mûr, peut signifier doux, aimable, tandis que ὠμός s’utilise dans le sens de dur, cruel et vient qualifier des sentiments violents tels que la colère14. Il est d’ailleurs remarquable que, sous le coup de la colère, les héros épiques — et les dieux — en arrivent à souhaiter commettre des actes cruels et que cette cruauté s’illustre précisément par l’acte de manger cru. Ainsi, pour guérir le courroux d’Héra contre les Troyens, il lui faudrait, dit Zeus dans l’assemblée des dieux du chant IV de l’Iliade, dévorer crus Priam, ses fils et tous les Troyens15. Autre exemple : Achille voudrait que sa colère le pousse à dévorer le corps d’Hector cru, après l’avoir découpé16. On comprend dès lors tout le sens de l’adjectif ὠμηστής dont Priam qualifie Achille avant de se rendre chez lui réclamer le corps d’Hector17, adjectif généralement traduit par « cruel » mais qui veut bien dire « dévoreur de chair crue » si on met en parallèle les deux extraits cités ici18. Manger de la viande humaine crue apparaît comme un acte d’une cruauté extrême, seul capable d’apaiser une colère extrême. C’est aussi l’acte qui figure l’anéantissement de l’ennemi : dans l’Anabase par exemple, Xénophon exhorte ses troupes à manger l’ennemi tout cru si possible19.

6 De ce qui précède on soupçonne que si le manger cru peut s’appliquer à d’autres aliments que la chair animale ou humaine, comme à des légumes ou des fruits, l’être qualifié d’ὠμοφάγος est un dévoreur de chair crue. L’ὠμοφαγία ou ὠμοσιτία désigne précisément l’absorption de viande crue, acte qui, aux yeux des Grecs, est le propre de certains animaux ou d’êtres primitifs, barbares, sauvages ou monstrueux.

7 Dans le monde animal sont ὠμοφάγοι le loup, l’épervier, l’aigle, le lion, le chacal, le faucon20. Sont ὠμησταί les oiseaux ou les chiens qui dévorent les cadavres auxquels on ne rend pas les hommages funèbres21. Sont encore mangeurs de chair crue certains peuples sauvages (ou présentés comme tels, en tout cas) comme les Eurytanes, groupement étolien, pointés par Thucydide22 ou les Tarikhanes, peuple sorti de l’imagination de Lucien23, gens aux yeux d’anguille, à la figure de homard, belliqueux, audacieux et mangeurs de chair crue (ὠμοφάγον). Les Eurytanes de Thucydide, peuple belliqueux également, parlent, d’après l’auteur, une langue inintelligible, comme les

Kernos, 27 | 2014 69

Ἀνδροφάγοι, peuple anthropophage voisin des Scythes, peuple sauvage et sans loi, dont parle Hérodote24, ce qui situe l’ômophagie à la limite du cannibalisme. Enfin, sont ômophages toute une série de monstres de la mythologie, caractérisés par leur appartenance partielle au monde animal ou par leur sauvagerie : la Sphinx est ὠμόσιτος25 ; mi-vierge, mi-bête, ses griffes sont avides de viande vivante26. Le chien des Enfers, Cerbère, est ὠμηστής27, comme le sont aussi les Centaures28. Le Cyclope est ὠμοβόρος ou ὠμοφάγος si on suit une autre leçon manuscrite29. Et pour Lucien encore, celui à qui on doit la paternité de toutes sortes d’histoires monstrueuses est l’Ulysse d’Homère qui raconte « la férocité de certains sauvages qui n’avaient qu’un œil et qui étaient mangeurs de chair crue (ὠμοφάγους) »30.

8 Il se confirme ainsi que manger de la viande crue ne faisait pas partie des habitudes alimentaires traditionnelles des Grecs, mais qu’au contraire cet usage apparaît comme une contre-valeur. L’analyse structurale des mythes comme celui de Prométhée a depuis longtemps mis en lumière les significations que les Grecs ont données à la cuisson par le feu. Nous rappellerons simplement ici qu’en enlevant le feu aux hommes, Zeus rabaisse l’homme au rang des bêtes, l’obligeant à manger cru comme celles-ci. Le sacrifice traditionnel et les pratiques alimentaires qui en découlent sont sous-tendus par les relations entre les trois termes dieux – hommes – animaux. La différence entre l’homme et l’animal, qui ont comme point commun de devoir échapper à la faim pour vivre, se situe au plan alimentaire : « L’homme n’est pas un animal mangeur de viande crue », dit Porphyre31. Parmi les animaux, ceux qui sont considérés comme les moins sauvages sont les herbivores32. Et même parmi les plantes, la plante véritablement sauvage n’admet aucune coction, qu’il s’agisse de celle du soleil ou de celle de la préparation culinaire33. Cette association avérée du cru et du sauvage a immanquablement orienté l’interprétation structuraliste de l’ômophagie, selon laquelle, dans la religion dionysiaque, la dévoration des chairs crues d’un animal sauvage qui n’a pas été mené à l’autel ni cuisiné rituellement signifie l’effondrement de la barrière entre l’humanité et la bestialité, et l’accès à une sauvagerie considérée comme étant propice au contact direct avec le divin34.

Le « manger cru » dans la pratique rituelle dionysiaque

9 L’indéniable relation entre la pratique alimentaire et le sacrifice amène à envisager le contexte religieux dans lequel s’insérerait le manger cru. Car, si les Grecs évacuaient le cru de leur alimentation, en allait-il de même dans la pratique rituelle ? En d’autres termes, quand il est question d’ômophagie rituelle, faut-il l’entendre au sens étymologique du terme ?

L’ômophagie entre mythe et réalité

10 Depuis l’étude fondamentale d’Albert Henrichs sur le ménadisme, il est globalement acquis que la pratique du « manger cru » dionysiaque relève du mythe ou de la métaphore35. Ainsi, le témoignage le plus célèbre, celui d’Euripide dans les Bacchantes, qui a souvent été lu comme l’évocation mythique de pratiques liées à l’un ou l’autre rituel dionysiaque, a été réévalué. En effet, ce que nous y relevons, ce n’est pas tant le déchirement de Penthée par sa propre mère Agavé, possédée par le dieu, déchirement qui n’est d’ailleurs pas suivi de la consommation de ses chairs crues (mais seulement

Kernos, 27 | 2014 70

d’une invitation à un festin36), que les allusions au culte dispersées dans le chœur des Bacchantes lydiennes qui accompagnent le dieu. Une seule mention d’une pratique ômophage s’inscrit dans des vers où le chœur exprime sa joie de retrouver une nature libre et sauvage : « Il est doux, sur les montagnes, après la course des thiases, de tomber sur le sol, vêtu de la nébride sacrée, de chasser le bouc afin de se repaître de son sang, d’en manger la viande crue (ὠμοφάγον χάριν) »37. C’est surtout la sauvagerie du déchiquetage des victimes qui est décrite : « Elles assaillent à mains nues nos génisses qui paissaient dans l’herbe ; tu aurais pu en voir une déchirer en deux, de ses mains, une jeune vache aux mamelles gonflées, mugissante, et les autres mettre des génisses en lambeaux. Tu aurais pu voir, lancés en tout sens, ici des côtes, là un sabot fourchu, suspendus, dégouttants de sang, aux sapins. Des taureaux furieux, aux cornes menaçantes, sont jetés à terre, puis emmenés par mille mains de jeunes femmes. Les chairs sont dépecées plus vite que tes paupières ne couvrent tes royales prunelles »38.

11 Dans ces vers, comme l’a relevé M. Halm-Tisserant, pas d’ômophagie consécutive au sparagmos. Sur la folie suscitée chez les femmes par Dionysos, on peut lire encore chez le pseudo-Apollodore : « Après avoir ainsi montré aux Thébains qu’il était un dieu, Dionysos se rendit à Argos et là, comme on refusait à nouveau de lui rendre un culte, il frappa les femmes de folie. Elles emportaient dans les montagnes les enfants encore à la mamelle et en dévoraient la chair »39. Le mythographe semble avoir réuni les éléments que l’on trouve chez le poète tragique, rappelant, de façon synthétique, les difficultés que Dionysos rencontre tout au long de sa geste à faire reconnaître sa divinité 40, ce qu’Euripide avait également montré de façon insistante : nouveau dieu41, dieu étranger42, Dionysos voit son statut de dieu contesté, ainsi que sa naissance de la cuisse de Zeus43. Les actes horribles auxquels il pousse les bacchantes sont là pour montrer sa puissance. Et le sparagmos de Penthée par sa propre mère est la punition qu’il inflige au roi de Thèbes pour avoir refusé d’admettre sa divinité et pour avoir cru pouvoir berner le dieu par son intelligence humaine.

12 Dans la perspective de la tragédie, c’est bien plus l’hybris de Penthée que la cruauté de Dionysos qui est présentée. La faute de Penthée est un excès de confiance dans le pouvoir de l’intelligence humaine44. Dionysos n’est d’ailleurs pas le seul dieu mis en scène par la tragédie à pousser aux pires actes les hommes coupables d’actes d’hybris, le plus bel exemple étant le sacrifice d’Iphigénie commis par Agamemnon sur l’ordre d’Artémis. Ainsi, pas plus que le sacrifice d’Iphigénie n’autorise à déclarer effective la pratique du sacrifice humain, les agissements des bacchantes n’autorisent à penser que les femmes grecques quittaient réellement la sphère de la maison pour aller sur la montagne déchiqueter des animaux sauvages et en consommer la chair encore palpitante. D’autres sources, postérieures, reprennent de façon évidente la description fournie par Euripide et il est plus que probable que celle-ci a servi de modèle. Ainsi lit- on notamment chez Lucien : « Les femmes s’emparent de troupeaux, les déchiquettent car certaines d’entre elles sont ômophages »45.

13 Qu’en est-il dès lors de l’attribution à Dionysos de l’épiclèse ὠμηστής ou ὠμάδιος, « mangeur de chair crue » ? Comme épithète, nous l’avons déjà rencontrée pour qualifier certains animaux ou encore Achille46 ; comme épiclèse, elle semble n’avoir été attribuée qu’à ce seul dieu47. Elle lui est appliquée, aux côtés de nombreuses autres et sans mise en contexte, dans un Hymne orphique48, usage étonnant, comme le souligne A.- Fr. Morand, dès lors que le mode de vie orphique invite au végétarisme et condamne le sacrifice sanglant49. Elle lui est également attribuée par Plutarque et par Porphyre dans

Kernos, 27 | 2014 71

des contextes plus explicites qui ont souvent suggéré qu’en tant qu’ὠμηστής ou ὠμάδιος, Dionysos réclamait des sacrifices humains. Dans la Vie de Thémistocle, Plutarque, se fondant sur le témoignage du philosophe Phainias d’Érésos, raconte qu’à Salamine, suite à différents présages interprétés par un devin, Thémistocle immole, sous la pression de la foule en délire, trois magnifiques prisonniers de guerre perses à Dionysos Ômèstès, afin d’assurer la victoire aux Grecs. Pierre Bonnechere met en doute l’historicité de ce sacrifice, avançant des arguments pour ou contre qu’il serait trop long de reprendre ici. Retenons seulement de son argumentation, avec les limites que ce résumé lui impose, que le nom de Dionysos Ômèstès n’est nulle part attesté en Attique et que son culte est limité à trois îles de la mer Égée, Chios, Ténédos et Lesbos d’où est originaire Phainias50.

14 Les mentions de Chios et de Ténédos proviennent des témoignages suivants. On trouve chez Eusèbe de Césarée51 cette citation de Porphyre qui lui-même cite Euelpis de Carystos — c’est d’ailleurs le seul passage conservé de cet historien dont on ne trouve aucune mention ailleurs52 —, citation brève et peu détaillée : « À Chios également, on sacrifiait à Dionysos Ômadios un homme que l’on déchiquetait, ainsi qu’à Ténédos comme le rapporte Euelpis de Carystos »53. Selon P. Bonnechere, si ce témoignage, ainsi qu’un autre, aussi peu explicite et cité par Clément, lui-même cité par Eusèbe, faisant état à Lesbos de sacrifice humain à Dionysos, ne peut suffire à nier l’existence de sacrifices humains dionysiaques, on ne peut non plus y trouver une preuve sûre de leur réelle existence : Porphyre, Eusèbe et Clément en ont parlé dans des écrits engagés, l’un, contre le sacrifice sanglant, les autres, contre le paganisme, religion de démons malfaisants. Selon lui toujours, ces sacrifices faisaient probablement partie de listes qu’on se plaisait à répéter. Il conclut en disant que les sacrifices humains qui apparaissent dans les fêtes dionysiaques sont tous mythiques et remplissent la fonction « de dramatiser, de ritualiser à l’extrême une brisure radicale dans le cours de la vie des hommes, des femmes, des cités »54. Cette antinomie entre les rites dionysiaques et ceux préconisés par l’ordre social avait déjà été soulignée par M. Detienne dans ses travaux sur Dionysos.

15 Mais revenons-en à la question de l’ômophagie. Nous aurons pu constater que dans les témoignages de Plutarque et de Porphyre, qui font l’un et l’autre état de sacrifice humain dont la réalité historique est douteuse voire contestable, il n’est en tout cas pas question de dévorer crue la victime sacrifiée, acte qui relèverait ici de l’anthropophagie55. Même si l’argument a silentio peut être difficile à manier, on peut supposer que, si la victime humaine sacrifiée à Dionysos avait été consommée crue, Porphyre n’aurait manqué de le mentionner dans un traité sur le végétarisme où il énumère les horreurs que sont capables de commettre les adeptes du sacrifice sanglant. En outre, il importe de souligner que c’est Dionysos qui, recevant ce type de sacrifice, est métaphoriquement appelé « mangeur de chair crue ». L’épiclèse mérite qu’on s’y arrête. En effet, vu le petit nombre d’occurrences de ces épiclèses, leur contexte vague ou géographiquement limité, la prudence impose de ne pas généraliser à l’ensemble du culte dionysiaque ce qui pourrait n’être qu’une particularité locale. Quant à l’aspect cultuel auquel l’épiclèse renverrait, il semble que c’est le dieu qui est « ômophage » plutôt que ses adeptes. Nous verrons plus loin que, dans un certain sens, cette hypothèse, déjà avancée par Albert Henrichs56, n’est pas à exclure. Enfin, pour en revenir à la question de la réalité du rituel évoqué par Porphyre, ajoutons qu’elle a sans doute été affirmée parce qu’une relation a parfois été établie entre sacrifice humain et ômophagie. Ainsi, Étienne Coche de la Ferté interprète la tragédie d’Euripide comme

Kernos, 27 | 2014 72

une affabulation littéraire d’un rite religieux très ancien qui consistait à mettre à mort en le déchirant un représentant du dieu et de s’assimiler la puissance de celui-ci par le rite de l’ômophagie. Il en conclut que l’ômophagie avait pour point de départ le sacrifice humain et que, celui-ci évoluant vers le sacrifice animal, les animaux qui furent mangés crus étaient des victimes de substitution57. Il a été montré avec beaucoup de pertinence que l’on peut facilement renverser cette théorie et défendre l’idée que « la réelle ômophagie animale, qui paraissait barbare et ancestrale, aurait suscité dans le mythe, par essence exagérateur, l’idée d’antiques immolations d’êtres humains à Dionysos »58. Il n’en reste pas moins que cette interprétation continue de considérer que l’ômophagie animale pourrait être « réelle ». Or, le texte de Porphyre est loin de le suggérer.

L’ômophagie : un rituel exclusivement dionysiaque ?

16 Il est convenu d’affirmer que la pratique du manger cru s’inscrit exclusivement dans la sphère dionysiaque. Tous les témoignages ne vont cependant pas aussi nettement dans ce sens. Dans le De defectu oraculorum de Plutarque, à la question de la cause de la décadence de l’oracle, Cléombrote, un des intervenants, avance une théorie démonologique, attribuant notamment à des démons, et non à des dieux, toute une série de faits parfois monstrueux rapportés par les récits mythiques, ainsi que toutes sortes de pratiques rituelles : « En ce qui concerne les cérémonies des mystères, dans lesquelles il est possible de saisir les indices les plus grands et les plus clairs de la vérité au sujet des démons, “que ma bouche garde le silence”, comme dit Hérodote. Mais en ce qui concerne des fêtes et des sacrifices, comme des jours néfastes et lugubres, au cours desquels on pratique des ômophagies et des déchirements, on s’adonne à des jeûnes et on se frappe la poitrine, et qu’en maint endroit les sanctuaires renvoient des paroles obscènes, “des délires et des clameurs émanant de ceux qui, la nuque ployée, sont agités”, je dirais qu’ils ne sont accomplis pour aucun dieu, mais en vue de détourner de mauvais démons, en les apaisant et les calmant »59. Partons du constat que l’auteur de ces propos distingue d’une part les cérémonies des mystères (περὶ μὲν τῶν μυστικῶν), dont il ne dévoile rien puisque comme initié il est tenu au secret, et, d’autre part, les fêtes et les sacrifices (ἑορτὰς δὲ καὶ θυσίας) où se produisent l’ômophagie et d’autres pratiques condamnables. On aura noté également que les mystères révèlent la vérité au sujet des démons, tandis que ces pratiques sont destinées à de mauvais démons.

17 Avant de revenir à ces démons, envisageons une première question : est-ce bien Dionysos qui est évoqué dans ce passage ? Une citation de Pindare ne laisse aucun doute à ce sujet : il s’agit d’un vers, extrait d’un dithyrambre, dans lequel le poète montre la nature entière et les autres dieux honorant Dionysos60. Ce vers a été introduit par Plutarque dans l’évocation des pratiques rituelles que manifestement il condamne. Cette lecture impliquerait-elle que Dionysos est un de ces « mauvais démons » auxquels elles s’adressent ? Cela paraît étonnant quand on sait par Plutarque lui-même qu’il était initié aux mystères dionysiaques61. En fait, c’est toute l’ambiguïté du dieu qui se dévoile une nouvelle fois ici. Une figure double, l’une, démonique, celle du dieu « caché »62 qui doit affirmer sa divinité, l’autre divine, lorsqu’enfin reconnu comme dieu, Dionysos accède à l’Olympe. Les rituels ômophagiques (qu’il reste encore à définir) seraient adressés à la première. Précisons de quel Dionysos il pourrait s’agir ici, en intégrant les données de la tradition orphique, notamment celle des Hymnes contemporains du texte de Plutarque.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 73

18 En effet, Jean Rudhardt a souligné les points de convergence entre les deux traditions qui concernent la naissance de Dionysos, celle qui fait de lui le fils de Sémélé et celle qui fait de lui le fils de Perséphone. Il a montré de façon convaincante que les Hymnes orphiques « ne juxtaposent pas inconsidérément les données de deux traditions distinctes ; ils en proposent une synthèse, en enseignant sans doute possible que Dionysos a eu deux mères successives. Une donnée fondamentale du mythe orphique peut seule expliquer ce paradoxe : il raconte le meurtre commis par les Titans sur la personne de Dionysos. Il faut que l’enfant de l’une des deux mères disparaisse, pour qu’il ait à naître une seconde fois ». Dionysos est l’enfant de Perséphone. Lorsqu’il fut démembré par les Titans, son cœur a été sauvé par Athéna et confié à Zeus. Celui-ci trouve en Sémélé une seconde mère pour porter l’enfant63.

19 Si l’on suit cette interprétation, dans la temporalité mythique, le « premier » Dionysos est l’enfant de Perséphone, à savoir celui de la tradition orphique, le « second » est le fils de Sémélé. En tant que fils de Zeus et de Perséphone, il est divin ; en tant que fils de la mortelle Sémélé, il a des éléments mortels qu’il faut éliminer : ce qui explique le foudroiement de Sémélé par Zeus et toute une série de « cachettes » de Dionysos, dont nous avons montré ailleurs qu’elles pourraient bien être les étapes symboliques d’une immortalisation, entendons ici du recouvrement de son statut originel d’immortel64. C’est lors de cette quête que Dionysos impose à ceux qui ne reconnaissent pas sa divinité les cruelles pratiques du sparagmos et de l’ômophagie. Ce faisant, il rappelle son origine divine première, à savoir celui du Dionysos fils de Zeus et de Perséphone, démembré par les Titans, et, du même coup, il punit ceux qui ne reconnaissent en lui qu’une figure mortelle. Aussi ce dieu double est-il bien ὠμάδιος, non tant ici le « mangeur de chair crue » que « celui qui fait manger la chair crue ».

20 En somme, pour en revenir au passage de Plutarque qui nous occupe, il y est question d’un même dieu, évoqué dans les différentes phases de sa geste, et, de la même manière, les initiés revivent son « drame », depuis son démembrement jusqu’à son « immortalisation » et la reconnaissance de sa place au sein des dieux. C’est au Dionysos reconnu dieu que sont adressées les cérémonies sur lesquelles Plutarque veut garder le silence, c’est au Dionysos en quête de cette « immortalité » que sont adressées les pratiques qu’il condamne, comme l’ômophagie. Ici, intervient la question de la distinction qu’établit Plutarque entre les δαίμονες qui se manifestent dans les mystères et les φαῦλοι δαίμονες qui réclament de leurs adeptes d’atroces pratiques. La suite immédiate du texte présente une distinction qui semble se superposer à celle-là : « Ce que l’on dit et que l’on chante dans les mythes et les hymnes, les rapts commis par les dieux, leurs errances, leurs cachettes, leurs exils, leurs servitudes, tout cela n’est pas le fait des dieux ; ce sont des épreuves et des aventures arrivées aux démons »65. On se trouve ici au cœur de la théorie démonologique grâce à laquelle Plutarque a rendu compte des cultes à mystères66. Ceux-ci font revivre le « drame » vécu par la divinité : il s’agissait dès lors d’expliquer comment un dieu peut être sujet aux passions sans perdre sa supériorité divine, à savoir son impassibilité67. La réponse est la suivante : seuls les daimones sont passibles.

21 Les deux passages repris ci-dessus placent Dionysos dans une sorte de dynamique ascendante qui le mène du rang de φαῦλος δαίμων à celui de δαίμων et enfin à celui de θεός. Cette explication philosophique du culte s’appuie certainement sur une tradition mythique que ne pouvait méconnaître Plutarque : au terme d’une série d’épreuves relevant du parcours initiatique, Dionysos a bien sa place sur l’Olympe, auprès des

Kernos, 27 | 2014 74

immortels68. Enfin reconnu dieu, il siège parmi les dieux de l’Olympe, comme en témoigne notamment l’Hymne à Pan. Le poète y montre Hermès allant présenter son fils à l’assemblée des dieux : « Il s’assit auprès de Zeus et des autres immortels et leur présenta son enfant : tous les immortels se réjouirent en leur cœur, surtout Dionysos Baccheios »69. Cette épiclèse (βακχεῖος ou βάκχος) n’est pas anodine. Si elle évoque sans doute immédiatement le dieu « qui agite et qui rend fou »70, on constate qu’ici elle s’applique au dieu installé sur l’Olympe : que peut-elle bien évoquer alors si ce n’est l’immortalité du dieu, comme, dans les Hymnes orphiques, elle est l’épiclèse que porte Dionysos quand, fils de Sémélé, il a recouvré son immortalité originelle, selon l’interprétation de J. Rudhardt71 ? La suite de notre réflexion pourrait bien la conforter.

22 En effet, βάκχος est également le titre que s’attribue le chœur dans un fragment de la parodos des Crétois, tragédie perdue d’Euripide, conservé dans le De abstinentia de Porphyre72. Le philosophe, qui défend l’idée que la piété totale est de s’abstenir de manger toute chair animale73, invoque le témoignage d’Euripide à propos de prophètes crétois de Zeus observant cette abstinence. Le chœur s’adresse à Minos : « Je mène une vie pure depuis le jour où je devins un myste du Zeus de l’Ida, et que, ayant accompli les tonnerres de Zagreus Nyctipole et les festins ômophagiques (τάς τ᾿ ὠμοφάγους δαῖτας), ayant brandi des flambeaux à la Mère des monts et ayant été purifié, appartenant aux Courètes74, je fus appelé bacchos. Revêtu d’habits blancs, je fuis la naissance des mortels, je ne m’approche pas des cercueils et je me garde de consommer des nourritures animées »75.

23 Ce passage a suscité une abondante littérature tant sur les indices d’un éventuel contexte orphique évoquant Dionysos que sur le type de culte qui y est évoqué : Euripide évoque-t-il un seul rituel ou a-t-il réuni des éléments d’origine diverse ? Le rituel dont il est question s’adresse-t-il à une ou plusieurs divinités76 ? La tentation fut grande de mettre ce fragment des Crétois en relation avec le récit évhémériste de Firmicus Maternus situant le démembrement de Dionysos en Crète77. A priori pourtant, un faisceau d’indices engage à privilégier l’hypothèse d’un culte à Zeus, plutôt qu’à Dionysos. D’abord, le chœur évoque explicitement des mystères en son honneur que l’on peut rapprocher des mystères auxquels aurait été initié Pythagore : « Arrivé en Crète, il se présenta aux mystes de Morgos, un des Dactyles de l’Ida, qui le purifièrent à l’aide de la pierre de foudre […]. Descendu dans la grotte dite de l’Ida avec de la laine noire, il y passa les trois fois neuf jours rituels, sacrifia à Zeus, […] »78. Ensuite, ni le nom de Zagreus ni l’épithète Nyctipole ne sont à l’usage exclusif de Dionysos. Outre que l’identification de Zagreus au Dionysos orphique est hasardeuse et tardive voire peu fondée79, Zagreus peut désigner d’autres divinités80 et rien ne permet d’écarter fermement l’hypothèse d’un Zeus-Zagreus81. Quant à l’adjectif νυκτιπόλος qui fait de ce Zagreus une divinité « qui évolue la nuit », il peut être appliqué à diverses divinités, souvent associées aux Enfers82, mais pas toujours83, et il évoque plus souvent l’ambiance nocturne dans laquelle se déroulait le rite84. La présence des Courètes est également liée à Zeus, et plus particulièrement au moment de sa naissance. Euripide est considéré comme la source la plus ancienne mentionnant les Courètes dans ce contexte85 et plus tard s’est forgé le thème d’une confrérie sacerdotale dont le culte bruyant couvrit les vagissements du petit Zeus caché par sa mère86. Cette dernière n’est d’ailleurs pas absente de ce texte : la « Mère des monts » évoque Cybèle, assimilée à Rhéa. C’est précisément dans les Bacchantes, que l’on trouve associés à deux reprises Cybèle, évoquée dans un cadre montagnard et assimilée à Rhéa la grande Mère, Zeus et les

Kernos, 27 | 2014 75

Courètes crétois87. Mais, comme ils avaient veillé sur Zeus enfant, les Courètes ont également protégé l’enfance de Dionysos, si l’on en croit Clément d’Alexandrie qui rapporte certainement une tradition plus ancienne88.

24 Jusqu’ici donc, aucun indice ne permet vraiment de trancher entre Zeus et Dionysos dans la question du dieu auquel sont destinées les pratiques mentionnées dans cet extrait. Reste le terme bacchos sur lequel il convient encore de revenir.

25 Comme on l’a noté ci-dessus et comme il apparaît dans ce passage, outre l’épiclèse du dieu, βάκχος s’applique également à l’initié qui, après avoir réactualisé le drame vécu par le dieu, est lui-même arrivé au terme de l’initiation89. Le fragment des Crétois, inséré par Porphyre dans un important développement sur la pureté, indique qu’à ce moment-là celui qui est bacchos est pur. Dans un autre contexte qui vient confirmer ce rapport à la pureté, un texte, certes tardif, mentionne une ancienne coutume athénienne qui consistait à expulser deux pharmakoi lors de la fête des Thargélies célébrée en l’honneur d’Apollon afin de purifier la cité : ces deux pharmakoi recevaient le nom de σύμβακχοι90. Enfin, dans un usage métaphorique de la langue des mystères, Platon décrit l’arrivée chez Hadès de celui qui « purifié et initié, habitera avec les dieux », chose rare, ajoute-t-il, car « nombreux sont les porteurs de thyrse, rares sont les bacchants »91 : purification, initiation, et enfin proximité avec les dieux, telles sont les étapes franchies par les bacchants pour atteindre une forme d’immortalisation, conférée par la compagnie des dieux.

26 Il faut également rappeler que le terme Bacchos ne renvoie pas systématiquement à la possession dionysiaque, même métaphoriquement92. Dionysos lui-même n’est pas désigné sous ce nom avant le Ve siècle avant J.-C., nom qui lui est donné à partir des manifestations que recouvre le verbe βακχεύειν93. Aussi d’autres dieux peuvent-ils recevoir cette épiclèse94. Est-ce le cas de Zeus ? Une inscription mentionne en effet un Ζεὺς βάκχος95. Ce texte, qu’il serait hors de notre propos de reproduire intégralement, date du règne d’Antonin le Pieux et rapporte un oracle contenant des prescriptions rituelles destinées à éloigner une peste. Quatre divinités y sont clairement concernées. Elles sont évoquées à trois reprises : une première fois, sous les noms de Zeus, Athéna, Dionysos et Paeéôn ; une deuxième fois, sous les noms de Cronide, Eiraphiôtès (épiclèse de Dionysos), Tritogeneia (épiclèse d’Athéna) et d’Asclépios ; une troisième fois, sous les noms de Pallas, Zeus, Zeus Bacchos et de pais (épiclèse d’Asclépios). Le parallèle entre les trois séries de noms établit les équivalences suivantes : Zeus-Cronide-Zeus / Athéna- Tritogeneia-Pallas / Dionysos-Eiraphiôtès-Zeus Bacchos / Paeéôn-Asclépios-pais. Le doute n’est pas permis ici : Zeus Bacchos est bien un autre nom de Dionysos, soulignant peut- être sa proximité avec Zeus dont il se proclame le fils dès le premier vers des Bacchantes et avec qui il a en commun une enfance « cachée », protégée par les Courètes crétois. Si cette inscription, éloignée d’Euripide dans le temps et dans l’espace, ne peut à elle seule96 confirmer à quel dieu, de Zeus ou de Dionysos, s’adressent les rites dont fait mention l’extrait des Crétois, l’hypothèse d’une atmosphère dionysiaque reste privilégiée.

27 Rien ne permet non plus d’affirmer que, dans une sorte de parcours initiatique, le dieu, qu’il s’agisse de Zeus ou de Dionysos, ait mangé de la chair crue, imposant ensuite semblable pratique à ses sectateurs. Aucune indication ne le prouve explicitement dans les textes si ce n’est l’épiclèse ὠμηστής ou ὠμάδιος, attribuée à Dionysos. Comme on l’a vu, le rituel évoqué par Plutarque et par Porphyre suggère néanmoins clairement un rituel en deux temps correspondant au double statut du dieu : une première phase,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 76

dans laquelle est pratiquée l’ômophagie, serait destinée au dieu non encore reconnu dieu, suivie d’une seconde phase, d’où serait évacuée l’ômophagie, phase au terme de laquelle l’initié serait, comme le dieu, Bacchos. L’ômophagie pourrait donc bien être une pratique qui s’insère dans un culte destiné à un dieu « caché » et « immortalisé ». La piste nous semble intéressante en ceci que le changement de mode alimentaire est lié à un changement de statut, aussi bien pour l’homme que pour le dieu. On se souviendra que, dans l’Hymne qui lui est consacré, Hermès, lui aussi en quête d’une reconnaissance de son immortalité et avide de passer de l’ombre de l’antre maternel à la lumière de l’Olympe, accomplit un acte qui est central dans sa geste : il abat deux des vaches volées à Apollon. L’Hymne précise ensuite que, troublé par l’odeur des chairs rôties, il est pris par une envie de viande97. Envie qu’il réfrène car telle n’est pas la nourriture des dieux98. Mais c’est sans doute une autre histoire…

28 Nous devons encore déterminer si l’ômophagie consiste bien à dévorer les chairs crues d’animaux sauvagement déchiquetés.

L’ômophagie : nourrir le dieu caché ?

29 Dans le passage de Porphyre analysé ci-dessus, P. Bonnechere relève une contradiction puisque, s’abstenant de nourriture vivante, le myste assiste aux festins ômophagiques99. Ajoutons qu’il serait assez étonnant que Porphyre, qui invoque Euripide pour défendre le végétarisme, ait fait allusion à un extrait où il est question de manger de la viande crue. Nous avons proposé une première explication fondée sur l’idée d’un rituel en deux phases attribué à un dieu « caché » puis reconnu, et effectué par des initiés qui passeraient de la consommation à l’abstinence de chairs crues. Il en est une seconde, déjà avancée par d’autres et fondée notamment sur le dossier épigraphique repris ci- dessous, à savoir qu’on pourrait rattacher l’ômophagie à une réalité moins cruelle que celle du manger cru et considérer cette dernière comme mythique100. Comme on le verra, loin d’être incompatible avec la première explication, elle vient au contraire la renforcer.

30 On trouve le terme ὠμοφάγιον dans une inscription appartenant à un type de document bien connu dans l’Asie Mineure et les îles de la mer Égée à l’époque hellénistique puisqu’il s’agit d’un contrat de vente de sacerdoce, pratique répandue dans ces régions depuis le IVe siècle. En l’occurrence, il s’agit d’une inscription datant des années 276/5 et concernant la vente de la prêtrise de Dionysos à Milet. Les quatre premières lignes stipulent ceci : « lorsque la prêtresse accomplit les hiera au nom de toute la cité, qu’il ne soit permis à personne de lancer l’ômophagion avant que la prêtresse ne l’ait lancé au nom de la cité, qu’il ne soit permis à personne non plus de rassembler le thiase avant le thiase public »101. Suivent d’autres indications sur l’organisation du culte dionysiaque milésien, qui n’intéressent pas directement notre propos, mais qui soulignent le caractère officiel du culte, tout en suggérant que des thiases privés pouvaient être rassemblés à condition que le thiase officiel soit rassemblé en premier102 : sont évoqués les actes sacrificiels en l’honneur d’un Dionysos qui n’est pas autrement qualifié dans l’inscription, l’initiation à Dionysos qualifié de Bacchios, et, enfin, la fête des Katagôgia, escorte de Dionysos conduite par la prêtresse, et, comme on l’apprend là, le prêtre, enfin le retour (« descente ») à la cité103. Afin de tenter d’identifier l’acte posé par la prêtresse, lisons une autre inscription de Milet, épitaphe d’une prêtresse de Dionysos, datée des IIIe–IIe siècles avant notre ère, et souvent mise en

Kernos, 27 | 2014 77

relation avec l’inscription précédente : « Vous avez dit adieu à la sainte prêtresse, Bacchantes citoyennes : juste hommage rendu à une noble femme. C’est elle qui vous menait à la montagne et qui, marchant à la tête de toute la cité, transportait tous les orgia et les hiera. Si un étranger demande son nom, c’est Alkméonis, fille de Rhodios, qui connaît la destinée des bons »104.

31 Les deux inscriptions peuvent être comprises comme suit. La seconde, contemporaine ou un peu plus récente que le contrat attestant le terme ὠμοφάγιον, peut précisément apporter un éclairage aux premières lignes de celui-ci. Il s’agit manifestement de l’épitaphe d’une prêtresse « officielle » du culte dionysiaque : le πολιήτιδες et le πρὸ πόλεως ne permettent guère d’en douter. Elle était donc la prêtresse chargée de lancer l’ ômophagion en priorité et de rassembler le thiase. Cette épitaphe place ces gestes rituels dans la pratique bien attestée du ménadisme : la prêtresse emmenait les bacchantes vers la montagne. Il y est stipulé qu’elle transportait les orgia et les hiera. Soit elle le fait lors de cette course vers la montagne, soit dans une autre séquence d’actions. Quoi qu’il en soit, le verbe φέρω implique que ces hiera (terme générique) et ces orgia (terme à la connotation mystérique évidente) désignent des objets liés à la pratique du culte dionysiaque, et non des cérémonies ou des rites105.

32 Les deux inscriptions attestent bien les activités essentielles de la prêtresse de Dionysos à Milet et, se complétant mutuellement, permettent de reconstituer les étapes du rituel comme suit : réunion d’un thiase, oribasie féminine, procession civique, avec le transport en grande pompe des insignes du culte du dieu, prêtresse en tête, et retour à la cité, le dieu escorté par le prêtre et la prêtresse. Ce retour à Milet nous ramène à l’ὠμοφάγιον ἐμβαλεῖν de la première inscription. De quel acte rituel s’agit-il ? Et où se place-t-il dans la séquence reconstituée ci-dessus ? Le verbe exprime très concrètement l’action de déposer, de jeter quelque chose dans autre chose. Il est abondamment attesté dans les inscriptions quand il s’agit de verser une somme d’argent dans le thesauros d’un sanctuaire, ou dans le cas d’offrandes jetées dans un trou, dans un fleuve ou dans la mer. Cette action est évoquée, précisément dans un contexte dionysiaque, dans le Papyrus de Gourob, daté du IIIe s. avant J.‑C106. Ce document, mutilé, conserve peut-être des ἱεροὶ λόγοι rédigés à la demande de Ptolémée Philopatôr. Y sont invoquées différentes divinités, Brimô, Déméter Rhéa, les Courètes. Il y est fait mention du sacrifice d’un bélier et d’un bouc, avec consommation sur place de la viande. Suivent encore une invocation à Eubouleus et Pallas, l’énumération des symbola de Dionysos, la mention du dieu dia kolpos (Sabazios ?), d’un boukolos, d’une formule rituelle (synthèma), et de ce qui a été « donné » qui doit manifestement « être jeté dans le kalathos » (ligne 28 : ε]ἰς τὸν κάλαθον ἐμβαλῖν). Enfin sont mentionnés des objets, cône, toupie, osselets, miroir, rappelant les jouets utilisés par les Titans pour attirer le petit Dionysos dans un piège. Certes le papyrus ne précise pas l’objet du lancer, mais il y est clairement question de jeter dans une corbeille. Si l’on considère comme évident que dans l’action d’ὠμοφάγιον ἐμβαλεῖν, le geste évoqué par le verbe ἐμβαλεῖν neutralise la notion de manducation présente dans le terme ὠμοφάγιον, il n’est pas exclu que le rituel milésien, évoqué dans un document datant à peu près de la même époque, fasse allusion à une « précipitation dans une corbeille » d’un morceau de viande crue, comme l’avait déjà suggéré Albert Henrichs107. Par conséquent, le destinataire ne peut être une ménade en transe, mais bien le dieu lui-même. C’est alors dans ce sens qu’il faut comprendre l’épiclèse ὠμηστής, « mangeur de viande crue », attribuée à Dionysos.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 78

33 Enfin, même si, méthodologiquement, il est difficile de considérer que ce qui se passait à Milet vaut pour tous les lieux et tous les temps, une mise en perspective de ces sources épigraphiques et papyrologiques avec les textes de Plutarque et de Porphyre, et plus particulièrement avec le passage des Crétois cité par ce dernier, permettrait d’entrevoir à nouveau un rituel en deux temps et deux lieux. L’état lacunaire de l’inscription, dont on ne sait si elle atteste les différentes séquences d’un même rituel ou des actes indépendants les uns des autres, ne peut malheureusement ni confirmer ni infirmer notre hypothèse. Il n’en reste pas moins qu’elle suggère un passage de la nuit au jour (l. 23 πρ[ωῒ τ]ῆ[ς] ἡμέρας μέχρι τ[ῆς ἡλίου δύσεως]) et, lors des Katagôgia, un retour de la montagne (lieu sauvage) à la cité (lieu civilisé). Ce rituel s’accorderait ainsi aux données du mythe. En effet, comme nous l’avons montré dans notre recherche sur les pratiques immortalisantes, ce passage de l’ombre à la lumière va de pair avec un changement de statut et le cas de Dionysos est, à cet égard, tout à fait représentatif. Dieu caché avant d’être reconnu dieu, Dionysos l’est notamment dans un coffre (λάρναξ108). C’est là un des multiples contenants associés au dieu aux côtés de la ciste et du kalathos, sans pour autant que ces objets lui soient spécifiques. La ciste est une corbeille fermée109 destinée à contenir des vivres dans un contexte profane 110 ou religieux111. Elle est évoquée avec le kalathos dans le σύνθημα des mystères d’Éleusis que l’on connaît par Clément d’Alexandrie : « J’ai jeûné, j’ai bu le kykéon, j’ai pris de la corbeille (ἐκ κίστης) ; après avoir agi, j’ai déposé dans le panier (εἰς κάλαθον), et du panier dans la corbeille (ἐκ καλάθου εἰς κίστην) »112. Attestée également comme cachette immortalisante113, elle peut abriter un serpent114 et semble avoir été liée à cet animal au point que le scholiaste d’Aristophane glose un τὴν κίστην par τὴν ὀψοθήκην 115. L’atmosphère dionysiaque qui entoure la ciste de Dicéopolis, le héros des Acharniens, est explicite. Il s’agit de la ciste “mystique” dont Nonnos, bien plus tard, reconstituera l’ aition, attribuant son inventionà Mystis, servante d’Ino à qui fut confié l’enfant Dionysos116. Or, Dionysos est associé à différents animaux dont il peut parfois revêtir la forme : taureau et serpent sont les plus récurrents117. Le chœur des Bacchantes rappelle que c’est un dieu aux cornes de taureau que Zeus engendra et qu’il le couronna de serpents118. Plus loin, il l’invite à paraître à ses yeux sous la forme d’un taureau, d’un serpent ou d’un lion119.

34 Dans un contexte dionysiaque, ciste et serpent ne semblent avoir été rapprochés que tardivement, aux époques hellénistique et romaine, notamment sur des monuments figurés120, et dans un passage de Clément d’Alexandrie d’un grand intérêt pour notre propos : le Père de l’Église y parle des corbeilles mystiques (αἱ κίσται μυστικαί) et de leur contenu, gâteaux, grains de sel et serpent, ὄργιον de Dionysos Bassaros121. Le rapprochement avec l’inscription de Milet est suggéré par ceci : Dionysos Bassaros, épiclèse qui lui vient de la βασσάρα, tunique des Bacchantes lydiennes122, est caché symboliquement dans une ciste, sous la forme d’un serpent, désigné par le terme ὄργιον du dieu, ce qui nous renvoie aux orgia transportés par la prêtresse de Dionysos de l’épitaphe ci-dessus. On pourrait ainsi voir dans ces témoignages tardifs l’aboutissement d’une fusion d’éléments dionysiaques d’origine et de tradition diverses. Il n’en reste pas moins que nous rencontrons, dès l’époque classique, quatre données qui peuvent être rapportées à Dionysos et qu’il est intéressant de confronter : la ciste, le serpent, une formule mystérique (rapportée par Clément mais rendant certainement compte d’une pratique plus ancienne) faisant allusion à la ciste et au kalathos, et, sinon le geste de l’ômophagion emballein, en tout cas l’allusion à l’ômophagie. Les

Kernos, 27 | 2014 79

rapprochements avérés entre mystères éleusiniens etbachiques123 autorisent à repartir des gestes que suppose la formule éleusinienne : il y est question d’une sortie de la ciste, d’un dépôt dans le kalathos, puis d’un retour du kalathos dans la ciste. Aussi suggérons-nous l’hypothèse suivante. Le dieu est caché dans la ciste sous une forme animale (réelle ou métaphorique), tandis que le kalathos abrite un morceau de viande crue qu’on y aurait lancé, ciste au serpent et kalathos appartenant aux objets transportés par la prêtresse. Il s’agirait alors de sortir l’animal divin de la ciste, de le nourrir dans le kalathos avant de lui faire réintégrer la ciste. Ce geste concilie ainsi la pratique rituelle avec le régime des Grecs évoqué ci-dessus, révélant du même coup toute l’ambiguïté du dieu : animal quand il reçoit l’offrande de l’ὠμοφάγιον, homme mortel comme il en a pris la forme à son arrivée à Thèbes124, et enfin dieu siégeant dans la lumière de l’Olympe.

Conclusion

35 L’analyse des sources littéraires et épigraphiques a montré combien il est difficile de trouver trace d’une pratique ômophagique au sens propre du terme. Rien ne permet d’affirmer non plus que nous avons affaire à un adoucissement d’une pratique ancienne, violente et sauvage. Au terme de cette enquête, il ne s’agit certes pas de dédouaner les Grecs d’un rituel qui pourrait nous paraître choquant, mais bien de le situer au plan des représentations. La présence de cette pratique dans les textes mythiques et le sens qu’on peut lui donner dans la pratique rituelle par la confrontation des sources littéraires et épigraphiques ont quelque chose à dire des représentations que les Grecs se faisaient de ce dieu. Il est possible que certains dieux aient reçu de la viande crue en certaines circonstances. Dans le cas de Dionysos, cette offrande devait surtout rappeler son image de dieu venu d’ailleurs, dieu marginal, à la limite de la bestialité, de l’humanité et du divin, et par là, toujours potentiellement dangereux, mais nécessaire pour l’équilibre des cités.

NOTES

1. M. HALM-TISSERANT, « Le sparagmos, un rite de magie fécondante », Kernos 17 (2004), p. 119–142. Ce laconisme avait déjà été relevé par Alb. Henrichs (« Greek Maenadism from Olympias to Messalina », HSCPh 82 [1978], p. 151). 2. HALM-TISSERANT, l.c. (n. 1), p. 134. 3. Dans une perspective structuraliste, l’ouvrage de Claude Lévi-Strauss (Mythologiques. Le cru et le cuit, Paris, Plon, 1964) a ouvert la voie aux études menées plus précisément dans le monde grec sur un sujet qui s’inscrit dans la recherche plus large des critères visant à cerner le degré de civilisation ou d’humanité d’un homme ou d’une société. Voir notamment Ch. SEGAL, « The Raw and the Cooked in Greek Literature : Structure, Values, Metaphor », CJ 69, 4 (1974), p. 289–308, ainsi que les contributions de J.-P. Vernant et M. Detienne auxquelles nous nous référons plus loin dans cet article. Ces études superposent au couple antinomique cru/cuit celui de sauvagerie/ civilisation ou encore de bestialité/humanité. Le dossier qui suit va dans ce sens mais n’implique

Kernos, 27 | 2014 80

pas que la pratique dionysiaque consiste en un retour périodique de la civilisation à une cruauté primitive, comme certains ont pu l’affirmer (voir HENRICHS, l.c. [n. 1], p. 123, qui a souligné cette dérive de l’interprétation structuraliste). 4. Aristophane, Cavaliers, 260. 5. Hippocrate, Du régime, texte établi et traduit par R. Joly (CUF), notice p. XVII et XX. 6. Hippocrate, Du régime LVI, 3. 7. Ibid. LV, 5. 8. Plutarque, Du contrôle de la colère, 13 (Moralia, 461b). 9. Si le sacerdoce du flamine de Jupiter, qui a suscité chez l’auteur grec huit de ses Questions romaines, devait paraître original à ses yeux, c’est bien la tradition philosophique grecque et les usages de la pratique sacrificielle grecque qui sous-tendent sa réflexion (voir Plutarque, Grecs et Romains en parallèle, introduction, traduction et commentaires des Questions romaines et des Questions grecques par M. NOUILHAN, J.-M. PAILLER et P. PAYEN, Paris, 1999, p. 229–231). 10. Plutarque, Étiologies romaines, 109 (Moralia, 289e-f). 11. Ibid., 110 (Moralia, 289f-290a). 12. J.-P. VERNANT, « À la table des hommes. Mythe de fondation du sacrifice chez Hésiode », in M. DETIENNE et J.-P. VERNANT (éd.), La cuisine du sacrifice en pays grec, Paris, 1979, p. 70, n. 3. 13. Pour l’ensemble du passage, voir Julien, Contre les cyniques ignorants, 12 (191c–193c). 14. Eschyle, Suppliantes, 187. 15. Iliade IV, 35. 16. Iliade XXII, 347. 17. Iliade XXIV, 207. 18. Cet adjectif — ainsi que ὠμάδιος — est également une épiclèse de Dionysos. Nous y reviendrons plus loin. 19. Xénophon, Anabase IV, 8, 14. 20. Voir Aristote, Histoire des animaux, 609b1, b4, b13, 610a 14, 615a4, 693a13, etc., ou encore, dans des images ou des comparaisons, Iliade V, 783 ; VII, 256 ; XI, 479 ; XV, 592 ; XVI, 157, etc. 21. Iliade XI, 454 ; XXII, 67. 22. Thucydide, III, 94, 5. 23. Lucien, Histoire vraie I, 35. 24. Hérodote, IV, 106. 25. Eschyle, Sept contre Thèbes, 541. 26. Euripide, Phéniciennes, 1025. 27. Hésiode, Théogonie, 311. 28. Théognis, Poèmes élégiaques I, 542. 29. Lucien, Dialogues marins I, 5. 30. Lucien, Histoire vraie I, 3. 31. Porphyre, De abstinentia I, 13, 4. 32. M. DETIENNE, Dionysos mis à mort, Paris, Gallimard, 19982 [1977], p. 141. 33. À ce sujet, voir M. DETIENNE, Les jardins d’Adonis. La mythologie des parfums et des aromates en Grèce, nouvelle édition augmentée d’un après-propos de l’auteur, Paris, Gallimard, 1972, p. 29–34. 34. Voir l’interprétation de J.-P. Vernant qui fait suite à l’ouvrage de M. Detienne cité à la note précédente, p. 242–243. Sur cette tension entre le cru et le cuit, c’est-à-dire entre le sauvage et le civilisé, voir encore récemment M. HERRERO DE JAUREGUI, « Dionysos mi-cuit : l’étymologie de Mésatis et le festin inachevé des Titans », RHR 223, 4 (2006), p. 395–401. 35. Voir notamment HENRICHS, l.c. (n. 1), p. 150–151 ; Dirk OBBINK, « Dionysus Poured Out : Ancient and Modern Theories of Sacrifice and Cultural Formation », in Th.H. CARPENTER, Chr. A. FARAONE (éds.), Masks of Dionysus, Ithaca / London, Cornell University Press, 1993, p. 69–75 ; M. DILLON, Girls and Women in Classical Greek Religion, London / New York, Routledge, 2003, p. 142–143 ; HALM-

Kernos, 27 | 2014 81

TISSERANT, l.c. (n. 1), p. 128 ; B. GOFF, Citizen Bacchae. Women’s Ritual Practice in Ancient Greece, Berkeley / Los Angeles / London, University of California Press, 2004, p. 272. 36. Euripide, Bacchantes, 1242. 37. Ibid., 135–138. 38. Ibid., 735–747. 39. Pseudo-Apollodore, Bibliothèque III, 37. 40. Voir à ce sujet I. TASSIGNON, « Vingt mille lieux sous les mers avec Dionysos et Télibinu », in Éd. DELRUELLE et V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE (éd.), Κηπ͂ οι. De la religion à la philosophie. Mélanges offerts à André Motte, Liège (Kernos, suppl. 11), 2001, p. 101–112 et C. VAN LIEFFERINGE, « Κατακρύπτειν. Cacher pour immortaliser », LEC76 (2008), p. 107–125. 41. Euripide, Bacchantes, 254, 272, etc. 42. Ibid., 482. 43. Ibid., 242–245. 44. H. JEANMAIRE, Dionysos. Histoire du culte de Bacchus : l’orgiasme dans l’Antiquité et les temps modernes, origine du théâtre en Grèce, orphisme et mystère dionysiaque, évolution du dionysisme après Alexandre, Paris, 19702 [1951], p. 153–155. 45. Lucien, Bacchos, 2, 21. 46. Voir ci-dessus. 47. Voir la banque de données électronique des épiclèses grecques du CRESCAM qui signale pour ὠμηστής les occurrences suivantes : Alcée, fr. 306Ea ; Plutarque, Du contrôle de la colère, 13 et Antoine, 24, 2 ; Phainias apud Plutarque, Thémistocle, 13 Pélopidas, 21, et Aristide, 9 ; et pour ὠμάδιος les occurrences suivantes : Hymnes orphiques,30, 5 et 52, 7 ; Euelpis de Carytos, FHG IV, 408 = Porphyre, De abst. II, 55, 3 = Eusèbe, Prép. Év. IV, 16, 5. 48. Hymnes orphiques, 30, 5 (A.-Fr. MORAND, Études sur les Hymnes orphiques, Leiden, Brill, 2001, p. 13). 49. MORAND, o.c. (n. 48), p. 150–151. 50. P. BONNECHERE, Le sacrifice humain en Grèce ancienne, Liège (Kernos, suppl. 3), 1994, p. 288–291. À ce sujet, voir également S. LEBRETON, « Dionysos Ômèstès (Plutarque, Thémistocle, 13 ; Antoine, 24) », in L. BODIOU, V. MEHL, J. OULHEN, Fr. PROST, J. WILGAUX (éd.), Chemin faisant. Mythes, cultes et société en Grèce ancienne. Mélanges en l’honneur de Pierre Brulé, Rennes, Presses Universitaires, 2009, p. 195–197. 51. Eusèbe de Césarée, Prép. év. IV, 16, 5. 52. Voir la note 4 de la page 118 de J. Bouffartigue et M. Patillon (CUF). 53. Porphyre, De abstinentia II, 55, 3. 54. BONNECHERE, o.c. (n. 50), p. 225. 55. S. Georgoudi (« Sacrificing to Dionysos : Regular and Particular Rituals », in R. SCHLESIER (éd.), A Different God? Dionysos and Ancient Polytheism, Berlin-Boston, De Gruyter, 2011, p. 50) a relevé la confusion qui a parfois été faite entre Dionysos Omadios ou Omèstès d’une part, et Dionysos Anthroporrhaistès de l’autre, et qui a amené à parler de cannibalisme. Invitant à la prudence dans l’interprétation de ces rituels, elle rappelle encore qu’on a parfois considéré que manger la chair crue d’un animal revenait pour le fidèle à manger la chair et le sang du dieu afin d’en incorporer les vertus (p. 51) 56. HENRICHS, l.c. (n. 1), p. 150–151. 57. É. COCHE DE LA FERTÉ, « Penthée et Dionysos. Nouvel essai d’interprétation des Bacchantes d’Euripide », Recherches sur les religions de l’Antiquité Classique, Paris, 1980, p. 135–137. 58. BONNECHERE, o.c. (n. 50), p. 211. 59. Plutarque, De defectu oraculorum, 14 (Moralia, 417c). 60. Pindare fr. 70b (dithyr. 2), 13–14 Snell. 61. Plutarque, Consolation à sa femme, 611d et la note 2 de la page 197 (p. 256) de J. Hani (CUF).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 82

62. Voir le texte cité ci-dessous à la note 65, dans lequel Porphyre fait explicitement allusion aux « errances » et aux « cachettes » du dieu. 63. J. RUDHARDT, « Les deux mères de Dionysos, Perséphone et Sémélé, dans les Hymnes orphiques », RHR 219, 4 (2002), p. 483–501, citation de la page 493. Voir également J. RUDHARDT, Opera inedita. Essai sur la religion grecque et Recherches sur les Hymnes orphiques, édités par Ph. BORGEAUD et V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, Liège (Kernos, suppl. 19), 2008, p. 268–272. 64. Voir notre article « Κατακρύπτειν… », cité ci-dessus (n. 40). 65. Plutarque, De defectu oraculorum, 14 (Moralia, 417e) : Καὶ μὴν ὅσας ἔν τε μύθοις καὶ ὕμνοις λέγουσι καὶ ᾄδουσι τοῦτο μὲν ἁρπαγὰς τοῦτο δὲ πλάνας θεῶν κρύψεις τε καὶ φυγὰς καὶ λατρείας, οὐ θεῶν εἰσιν ἀλλὰ δαιμόνων παθήματα καὶ τύχαι. Voir encore, de la même teneur : Plutarque, Isis et Osiris, 25 (Moralia, 360e-f). 66. À ce sujet, voir Andrei TIMOTIN, La démonologie platonicienne. Histoire de la notion de daimōn de Platon aux derniers néoplatoniciens, Leiden, Brill, 2012, p. 164–204. 67. La question de l’impassibilité des dieux et des êtres supérieurs, soulevée, comme on le voit ici, par les philosophes du moyen-platonisme, sera au cœur des débats qui animeront l’école néo- platonicienne : voir notamment Jamblique, Réponse à la Lettre de Porphyre à Anébon, 34 à 45, où le philosophe répond à cette question par le statut de la théurgie. 68. Si Dionysos devait se faire reconnaître comme dieu par les hommes, il devait également se faire une place auprès des Olympiens : c’est ce que montre l’Hymne 1 à Dionysos dans sa version complète et récente (M.L. WEST, The Homeric Hymns, Homeric Apocrypha, Lives of Homer, Cambridge, Massachusetts (Loeb Classical Library), 2003) : voir M. WEST, « The first Homeric Hymn to Dionysos », in A. FAULKNER (éd.), The Homeric Hymns. Interpretative Essays, Oxford, University Press, 2011, p. 30– 31. 69. Hymne à Pan, 44–46. 70. Hérodote, IV, 79. 71. Voir l’étude de J. Rudhardt citée ci-dessus. 72. Porphyre, De l’abstinence, tome III, livre IV, texte établi, traduit et annoté par M. PATILLON et A. Ph. SEGONDS, avec le concours de L. BRISSON, Paris, Les Belles Lettres (CUF), 1995, notice p. XLIII- XLVI ; Euripide, tome VIII, 2e partie, Fragments. Bellérophon — Protésilas, texte établi et traduit par F. JOUAN et H. VAN LOOY, Paris, Les Belles Lettres (CUF), 2000. 73. On ne s’étonnera pas de trouver une même veine chez Plutarque, adversaire de l’alimentation carnée, et chez Porphyre, défenseur du végétarisme. À ce sujet, voir F. JOURDAN, « Porphyre, lecteur et citateur du traité de Plutarque Manger de la viande », REG 118 (2005), p. 426– 435. 74. Nous gardons le texte καὶ κουρήτων, attesté par Porphyre et par le P. Oxy. 2461, plutôt que la correction de Wilamowitz μετὰ κουρήτων. 75. Porphyre, De abstinentia IV, 19. 76. F. Jouan et H. Van Looy (voir ci-dessus, n. 72) font le point sur ces questions (p. 310 et p. 324, n. 44). 77. Firmicus Maternus, Sur l’erreur des religions païennes VI, 1–5. C’est le lien qu’établit H. Jeanmaire (o.c. [n. 44], p. 257). Sur la présence du culte de Dionysos en Crète, voir H. VERBRUGGEN, Le Zeus crétois, Paris, Les Belles Lettres, 1981, p. 119–121. 78. Porphyre, Vie de Pythagore, 17. 79. Voir à ce sujet JEANMAIRE, o.c. (n. 44), p. 408. 80. Ainsi, dans un fragment du Sisyphe d’Eschyle, il désigne le fils d’Hadès (fr. 228 Sommerstein). 81. Si H. Verbruggen (o.c. [n. 77], p. 122) souligne l’incertitude de l’identification de Zagreus et remet en question le sens de « Grand Chasseur » souvent donné au mot, il n’évacue pas de cet extrait le dionysisme dans lequel, selon lui, Euripide situe ici Zagreus (p. 124–125) reprenant, au sujet de ce passage, la conclusion de H. Jeanmaire (o.c. [n. 44], p. 272).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 83

82. Il peut s’agir d’Hécate (Euripide, Ion, 1049 ; Apollonios de Rhodes, Argonautiques III, 862 ; IV, 148 etc.). 83. C’est le cas de Thémis dans les Hymnes orphiques (79, 7). 84. Qu’il s’agisse des courses des Bacchantes sur la montagne (Euripide, Ion, 717) ou, plus tardivement et sur un mode satirique, des mystères nocturnes institués pour le devin Protée (Lucien, De morte Peregrini, 29). 85. Euripide, Bacchantes, 120. Voir VERBRUGGEN, o.c. (n. 77), p. 46. 86. Tradition présente chez Callimaque, Hymne à Zeus, 52–54 et dont Virgile est le relai le plus célèbre dans la tradition latine (Géorgiques IV, 150–152). 87. Euripide, Bacchantes, 81–82 et 121. 88. Clément d’Alexandrie, Protreptique II, 17, 2. 89. Relevé également par S.G. COLE, « Finding Dionysos », in D. OGDEN, A Companion to Greek Religion, Oxford, Blackwell, 2007, p. 327. 90. Helladios apud Photium, Bibliothèque, 279, p. 182, 6–7 (CUF). Voir BONNECHERE, o.c. (n. 50), p. 297. 91. Platon, Phédon, 69c. La phrase de Platon renvoie à Musée et Eumolpos, donc aux Eumolpides d’Éleusis. Voir G. PUGLIESE-CARRATELLI, « Ancora sulla lamina orfica di Hipponion », PP 31 (1976), p. 463. 92. C’est l’idée que défend G. Pugliese-Carratelli qui, pour la question qui nous occupe ici, avance que rien ne permet d’affirmer le caractère dionysiaque du terme βάκχος qui désigne dans ce fragment les mystes de Zagreus, pas même le parallèle pourtant étroit entre la triade des dieux invoqués dans un fragment d’Alcée (Zeus, Héra, Dionysos Kémélios ὠμήστας, voir ci-dessus n. 47) et les dieux du fragment des Crétois (Zeus, Mère des Monts, Zagreus) (l.c. [n. 91], p. 465–466). 93. JEANMAIRE, o.c. (n. 44), p. 58–59. 94. Voir G. PUGLIESE-CARRATELLI, l.c. (n. 91), p. 463. 95. I. Pergamon, 324 = G. KAIBEL, Epigrammata Graeca exlapidibus conlecta, Berlin, 1878, p. 450–451. 96. Une autre inscription mentionnerait un Ζεὺς βάκχος (SEG,20, 457), mais il s’agit d’une inscription mutilée mentionnant un Διὶ βακ[ restitué en Διὶ βάκχωι, restitution contestée par J. et L. Robert (Bulletin épigraphique 1964–1967, p. 234, no 516). 97. Hymne à Hermès, 112–141. 98. Au sujet de la séparation que peut instituer la nourriture entre mortels et immortels, G. Ekroth invite cependant à nuancer, rappelant que dans certains récits mythiques ou certains rituels les dieux ne se repaissent pas que de la knisè. Elle mentionne notamment le mythe de Tantale dans lequel Déméter dévore l’omoplate de Pélops et, dans la pratique cultuelle, le rite des trapezomata, offrandes de viande crue placées sur une table ou l’autel du sacrifice, et destinées ensuite aux prêtres et aux prêtresses. Elle reconnaît toutefois que cette dernière pratique, peu documentée pour la période archaïque, a été suggérée et développée à partir de la coutume qui consistait précisément à réserver des parts au personnel du culte (G. EKROTH, « Burnt, cooked or raw? Divine and human culinary desires at Greek animal sacrifice », in E. STAVRIANOPOULOU, A. MICHAELS, Cl. AMBOS (éd.), Transformations in Sacrificial Practices. From Antiquity to Modern Times, Berlin, 2008, p. 87–111, et particulièrement p. 97–98 et 104). 99. BONNECHERE, o.c. (n. 50), p. 146, n. 626. 100. A.J. FESTUGIÈRE, « Omophagion emballein », Études de religion grecque et hellénistique, Paris, Vrin, 1972, p. 110–113. Pour d’autres références, voir ci-dessus, la n. 35. 101. LSAM 48, 1–4 (reproduite par A.-Fr. JACCOTTET, Choisir Dionysos. Les associations dionysiaques ou la face cachée du dionysisme, II. Documents, Zürich, Akanthus, 2003, p. 252–253, no 150) : [….]ν ὅταν δὲ ἡ ἱέρεια ἐπι[τελέ]σηι τὰ ἱερὰ ὑπὲρ τῆς πόλ[εως] | [πάσης] μὴ ἐξεῖναι ὠμοφάγιον ἐμβαλεῖν μηθενὶ πρότερον | [ἢ ἡ ἱέ]ρεια ὑπὲρ τῆς πόλεως ἐμβάληι, μὴ ἐξεῖναι δὲ μηδὲ | [συν]αγαγεῖν τὸν θίασον μηθενὶ πρότερον τοῦ δημοσίου.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 84

102. Comme le souligne S.G. Cole en se fondant précisément sur ces inscriptions, la frontière entre culte privé et culte public est difficile à situer (l.c. [n. 89], p. 337). À ce sujet, voir JACCOTTET, o.c. (n. 101), I. Texte, p. 75 et « Du thiase aux mystères. Dionysos entre le « privé » et « l’officiel », in V. DASEN, M. PIÉRART (éds.), Ἰδίᾳ καὶ δημοσίᾳ. Les cadres « privés » et « publics » de la religion grecque antique, Liège, 2005 (Kernos, suppl. 15), p. 193–195. Dans cette dernière contribution, l’auteur avance l’hypothèse d’une création a posteriori du thiase « officiel », tout en soulignant à juste titre que la démarcation entre privé et public n’est pas stricte du point de vue de l’acte rituel proprement dit. A.-Fr. Jaccottet avait déjà mis en lumière le double visage de Dionysos, « dieu a-politique qui a sa place dans la cité auprès des individus » (« Le lierre de la liberté », ZPE 80 [1990], p. 154–156). Sur cette question, traitée par le biais de l’iconographie, voir Cl. BÉRARD et Chr. BRON, « Bacchos au cœur de la cité. Le thiase dionysiaque dans l’espace politique », in L’association dionysiaque dans les sociétés anciennes, Actes de la table ronde organisée par l’École française de Rome (Rome 24–25 mai 1984), Rome, 1986, p. 13–30. 103. Ce rituel, attesté par l’iconographie dès le VIe siècle, est considéré comme une invitation à faire revenir une divinité rebelle, voire hostile, auprès des hommes, retour se faisant par voie maritime (voir I. TASSIGNON, « Dionysos et les Katagôgies d’Asie Mineure », in A. MOTTE, Ch.M. TERNES (éd.), Dieux, fêtes, sacré dans la Grèce et la Rome antiques, Actes du Colloque tenu à Luxembourg du 24 au 26 octobre 1999, Turnhout, Brepols, 2003 [Homo Religiosus II, 2], p. 81–99). Si notre inscription ne suggère pas un retour par voie d’eau mais une descente vers la cité, en revanche elle conforte l’idée d’une « réintégration progressive d’une divinité exclue du monde des hommes » (TASSIGNON, l.c., p. 97), c’est-à-dire, de notre point vue, d’une divinité cachée. 104. Inschriften von Milet II, 733 (reproduite par JACCOTTET, o.c. [n. 101], p. 250–251, no 149) : Τὴν ὁσίην χαίρειμ πολιήτιδες εἴπατε Βάκχαι | ἱρείην· χρηστῇ τοῦτο γυναικὶ θέμις· | ὑμας κεἰς ὄρος ἦγε καὶ ὄργια πᾶντα καὶ ἱρὰ | ἤνεικεμ πάσης ἐρχομένη πρὸ πόλεως· | τοὔνομα δ᾿ εἴ τις ξεῖνος ἀνείρεται, Ἀλκειωνὶς | ἡ Ῥοδίου, καλῶμ μοῖραν ἐπισταμένη. 105. Voir A. MOTTE et V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, « Le mot et les rites. Aperçu des significations de ὄργια et de quelques dérivés », Kernos 5 (1992), p. 128–130. 106. P. Gurôb 1 = Pack2 2464. Réédité et commenté par J.H. HORDERN, « Notes on the Orphic Papyrus from Gurôb (P. Gurôb 1 ; Pack2 2464) », ZPE 129 (2000), p. 131–140. 107. HENRICHS, l.c. (n. 1), p. 150–151. 108. Pausanias, III, 24, 3. 109. Κίστη et λάρναξ glosent κιβωτός chez le lexicographe Photios (Lexique, s.v. κιβωτός, p. 163, 15 Porson). 110. Odyssée VI, 76. 111. Il peut s’agir de l’offrande d’un gâteau à Déméter (Aristophane, Thesmophories, 284–285) ou d’un repas dans le contexte dionysiaque des Anthestéries (Aristophane, Acharniens, 1086 et 1098). 112. Clément d’Alexandrie, Protreptique II, 21, 2. 113. Dans le cas d’Érichtonios (voir notre article « κατακρύπτειν… », cité n. 40). 114. Voir encore le cas d’Érichtonios. Cette présence du serpent dans une ciste se rencontre dans des contextes autres que dionysiaques qui révèlent néanmoins la récurrence de cette association (voir notamment Aristophane, fr. 28 Henderson ; Plutarque, Alexandre, 85, 2). 115. Scholia in Acharnenses, 1086. 116. Nonnos, Dionysiaques IX, 127. 117. Sur ce côté animal du dieu et ses implications rituelles, voir E. ASTON, Mixanthrôpoi. Animal- human hybrid deities in Greek religion, Liège, 2011 (Kernos, suppl. 25), p. 127–130. 118. Euripide, Bacchantes, 99–101. 119. Ibid., 1018–1019. Cette présence récurrente du serpent dans les rites et les mythes dionysiaques a été retenue par Clément d’Alexandrie qui, dans une vision chrétienne, voit dans l’animal l’incarnation du mal et de la luxure (à ce sujet, voir F. JOURDAN, « Dionysos dans le

Kernos, 27 | 2014 85

Protreptique de Clément d’Alexandrie. Initiations dionysiaques et mystères chrétiens », RHR 223 [2006], p. 267 et 270–271). 120. R. TURCAN, « Dionysos dimorphos : une illustration de la théologie de Bacchus dans l’art funéraire », Mélanges d’archéologie et d’histoire 70 (1958), p. 243–294 (particulièrement p. 251–253, 277–280). 121. Clément d’Alexandrie, Protreptique II, 22, 4. 122. On ne dispose que de peu de renseignements sur ces Bassarai : voir DILLON, o.c. (n. 35), p. 147. 123. Voir S.I. JOHNSTON et Fr. GRAF, Ritual Texts for the Afterlife. Orpheus and the Bacchic Gold Tablets, London/New York, Routledge, 20132 [2007], p. 73–76, 90, 140, 149, 150–157. 124. Euripide, Bacchantes, 4 et 53.

RÉSUMÉS

Cet article comporte deux parties liées entre elles : l’une étudie le « manger cru » dans le régime alimentaire des Grecs, l’autre le rituel ômophagique dionysiaque. De l’étude conjointe des sources littéraires et épigraphiques, il apparaît que ce dernier pourrait consister en une séquence de gestes révélant l’ambiguïté du dieu, entre animalité, humanité et divinité, et s’accordant avec la pratique alimentaire des Grecs.

This paper consists of two inter-related sections: the first addresses the consumption of “raw food” in the ancient Greek diet; the second deals with the Dionysian ritual of ômophagia. Literary and epigraphic evidence shows that this ritual performance could be interpreted as a sequence of actions revealing the ambiguity of the god, between animality, humanity and divinity, and in accordance with the practice of raw food consumption among the Greeks.

AUTEUR

CARINE VAN LIEFFERINGE Université Libre de Bruxelles Avenue F.D. Roosevelt, 50 B – 1050 Bruxelles [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 86

The priestess of Athena Nike A new reading of IG I3 35 and 36*

Josine Blok

1 The decree inaugurating the priesthood of Athena Nike (IG I3 35; Fig. 1) signalled a new stage in the development of democratic Athens.1 On the proposal of a man whose name is now almost entirely lost, IG I 3 35 decides to select a woman by lot to be the first priestess of Athena Nike, to add doors to the sanctuary made by Kallikrates, to give the priestess 50 drachmas and choice parts of the sacrifices made on behalf of the dêmos, and that Kallikrates build a temple for Athena Nike and a stone altar. The new priestess was to be allotted from among all Athenian women, a decision giving all citizens, in this case female citizens, access to prominent cultic roles in the polis. A rider by a certain Hestiaios appoints a committee from the boulê to oversee the contracts.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 87

Figure 1

Photo: Josine Blok, by courtesy of the New Akropolis Museum

2 Unfortunately, the stone on which the decree was inscribed is much damaged, both on the top and at the bottom, where a part was broken off. In its present state, the text of the decree lacks any clue as to the moment of its enactment. Until some years ago, the conventional date of IG I 3 35 was ca. 448, due to the ‘three-bar sigma’ letterform allegedly not used after 446, but since this criterion is now abandoned, no satisfactory date for this decree is established.2 Circumstantial evidence suggests a date post 448, when the Akropolis building program was conceived and to which the embellishment of the cult of Athena Nike and the construction of her temple must belong. A certain ante quem is a decree (IG I3 36; Fig. 2) inscribed on the back with specifications about the priestess’ payment, which refers explicitly to the earlier decision. This decree has a prescript though one without an archon and is conventionally dated to 424/3.

Figure 2

Photo: Josine Blok, by courtesy of the New Akropolis Museum

3 Both decrees have been discussed extensively and republished several times since their editio princeps in 1897, the present authoritative editions being IG I3 35 and 36 and ML 44 and 71. To honour the memory of Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood, I should like to revisit both decrees with two ways of reading: a microscopic reading of the stone and a reading of the cult in the wider framework of polis religion.3

The texts of IG I3 35 and 36

4 Let us first look at the texts (see also Appendix). The top line of decree IG I3 35 is much damaged, but the remaining letters ι and μο may be restored as τo]ι̣ [δέ]μ̣ο̣[ι, possibly but not necessarily part of an enactment clause.4 A prescript with reference to archon,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 88

prytanis or grammateus is lacking, and so is a statement about setting-up the stele.5IG I3 36 stipulates that the kolakretai who will be in office in the month Th[…] are to pay the priestess of Athena Nike the fifty drachmas decided in the first decree. In l. 9, the Θ seen by H. von Prott and now hardly visible is confirmed by one squeeze in Texas, and the number of letters is consistent with Θαργηλιῶνος. Thargelion may therefore be considered as good as secure. The two decrees raise many much-debated questions, notably on the date of 35 in connection with the construction of the Propylaea, the Nike temple and other buildings by Kallikrates, the question on whether the priesthood was annual or for life, and on the office of the first priestess, Myrrhine.6

5 The stone on which both decrees are inscribed has an extraordinary shape (Fig. 3 and 4). The top of the stone has a scarf-joint cutting at an oblique angle with anathyrosis and dowel holes. W.B. Dinsmoor and A.B. West, who until a few years ago seem to have been the last scholars to have studied the stone itself, calculated from the angle of the slope that the stone must have been joined to another one in such a way that our extant stone held the first lines of the decree.7 On this reconstruction, the prescript was very likely inscribed on the upper stone. The size of this top stone can only be guessed at, but it cannot have been very large; a scarf-joint makes a smooth connection, but in vertical position the construction did not allow the lower stone to carry a heavy load. No parallel of such a construction is known. B.D. Meritt accepted Dinsmoor’s conclusions and recently Stephen Lambert confirmed them from autopsy.8 Given this reconstruction, Meritt observed that considering the thinness of the stone where the first line of 35 was inscribed (now reduced to hardly half its original size due to damages over time), the stones must have been joined before our present decree 35 was cut. The text would have run continuously from top to lower stone, with the joint precisely in-between lines.

Figure 3

Photo: Josine Blok, by courtesy of the New Akropolis Museum

Kernos, 27 | 2014 89

Figure 4

Photo: Josine Blok, by courtesy of the New Akropolis Museum

6 From all of this, Meritt inferred in his first publication on the decree (1941) that the top stone held the main decree with the prescript and that the proposal beginning on l. 2 of 35 was a rider. The fact that the rider by Hestiaios begins on a separate line, whereas the first proposal did not, he ascribed to irregular punctuation.9 But what decree might the top stone have held? In 1963, Meritt and H.T. Wade-Gery stated that decree 35 was an amendment, not part of the decree proper. Whatever the decree was about, it must have been something of such importance that the reorganisation of the cult of Athena Nike and the construction of a new temple and altar could be added as an appendage to some larger plan […]. Its main subject-matter was almost surely the architectural organisation of the western approach to the Akropolis. Nothing less than this, which included the planning for and the authorisation of the Propylaea, will have been of sufficient moment to carry the temple of Athena Nike merely as a rider.10

7 Later, however, Meritt changed his mind, now identifying the first proposal of 35 not as a rider, but as a decree, restoring in line 1 the enactment clause ἔδοχσεν τeι βολέι καὶ τ oι δέμοι. In IG, Meritt and Malcolm F. McGregor published the decree in this form, adding the hypothetical top stone with only the prescript Λεοντὶς ἐπρυτάνευε, the whole reconstructed 35 now consisting of a single decree. R. Meiggs and D. Lewis, however, doubted Meritt’s solution and in their edition they did not include any hypothetical text of the top stone.11 Neither IG nor ML offers an explanation for the extraordinary construction of the two stones joined by dowels.

8 Before turning to other aspects of the decrees, I should like to observe that: (a) on all more or less contemporary decrees, riders are introduced by the clause (τὰ μὲν ἄλλα) καθάπερ… following either the advice of the boulê or a proposal by somebody else introducing a rider, and some are separated from the previous text by a vacat. This fixed clause is lacking in the first proposal of 35. (b) Hestiaios’ proposal also lacks this fixed clause, but instead is indicated to be a rider by beginning on a new line, after a vacat; again, such a mark is lacking in the first proposal.12 On this evidence, it seems highly unlikely that the first proposal of 35 is a rider. Merritt’s restoration of line 1 into

Kernos, 27 | 2014 90

the enactment clause is not absolutely certain, but in my view it is the most plausible. If we accept this, the text of 35 is a decree beginning with an enactment clause, followed by the rider of Hestiaios.

9 In a new attempt to make sense of the Athena Nike decrees, I first ask a different type of question. What was the new priesthood for ?

The cult of Athena Nike

10 The cult of Athena Nike had existed since at least the sixth century, as attested by a limestone altar dedicated to her, and a sanctuary with a temenos wall, a cult statue and a naiskos.13 Situated on the bastion on the promontory of the Akropolis, Athena Nike’s was a polis-cult in every sense in which Sara Aleshire and Stephen Lambert define it, that is to say, paid, overseen, fostered or supported by the polis in some way. 14 Under the classical sanctuary, a repository consisting of two poros blocks, possibly the base of the archaic cult statue, was found, which held a mixture of sherds, bones and shattered terracotta figurines. Comparable assemblages suggest that these gifts belonged to the original dedication of the sanctuary and altar, and were incorporated in the foundations of the new sanctuary.15

11 In the sixth and fifth centuries, Athena received hundreds of inscribed dedications from private worshippers on the Akropolis, but only two such gifts carry an epithet: one for Athena Hygieia, another for Athena Poliouchos.16 Did ‘Athena’ without epithet include Athena Nike? We cannot rule this out, but it is not the most plausible option, considering that Athena Nike enjoyed a cult as a goddess in her own right with her typical epithet.17 If this is correct, the only extant inscribed dedication to Athena Nike is the altar and there is no unambiguous evidence of private worship, for instance dedications made after athletic competitions. The absence of such evidence confirms the prevalent view that in this cult Athena Nike was not a goddess of victory in (athletic) competition, but the divinity promoting victory in war.18

12 Whereas the special cult for Athena Nike thus clearly existed, it had no special priestess; IG I3 35 installed a priestess for Nike for the first time.19 No extant evidence tells us who took care of this cult and supervised the sanctuary before the new priestess entered her office. Some scholars suggest that the genos Eteoboutadai, in particular the priestess of Athena Polias, had been in charge of the cult of Athena Nike, considering the genos’ conspicuous role in the cults on the Akropolis.20 If so, the authority of the Eteoboutad priestess would have included performance of cult actions such as sacrifice by others. The phenomenon of a cult being gradually elaborated with new features, such as a priest(ess) of its own, is not unique in Athenian religion.21 Athene Nike also received a substantial income, albeit from unknown sources, since by the 430s she owned an impressive treasury from which the polis borrowed heavily.22 Assuming that her money was stored, as was conventional, in her sanctuary, which before its embellishment consisted merely of a temenos wall, it would naturally have been prudent to add doors that could be closed, such as ordered in decree IG I3 35, l. 5. IG I3 45, again of unknown date, orders Kallikrates to plan and build quickly some construction on the Akropolis to keep runaway slaves and vagabonds out, and appoints three archers as guards from the phyle who holds the prytany. Apparently, there were reasons to worry about the well-stocked treasuries on the Akropolis.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 91

13 Archaeological evidence provides some idea of the major hiera for Athena Nike. Before its refurbishment in the Periklean program, the sanctuary held a rectangular limestone altar dating to shortly before the middle of the fifth century; it must have replaced the archaic bomos, but decree 35 wanted it to be replaced in its turn by a stone one.23 Judging by the prominence of these altars, it seems that public sacrifice was a major element of Nike’s cult. In the ‘Law and decree on the ‘Little’ Panathenaea’ of ca. 335, the hieropoioi are to buy a large number of cattle with the monies newly raised from the Nea and to select one particularly beautiful cow for sacrifice on the altar of Nike.24 What precisely was traditional and what was new in the arrangements of this law is not thoroughly clear, but the sacrifices for which the law made the hieropoioi responsible seem to be a new provision owing to the new funds.25 What happened before, who performed sacrifices for Nike and when did they take place? Considering that since its archaic origins Athena Nike’s role was to foster victory in battle, we might think of the polemarchos as a plausible candidate to have been in charge of earlier sacrifices, but there is no certainty on the matter.26 The only evidence so far are the reliefs on the parapet of the new sanctuary dating to ca. 415–10, showing a procession of Nikai leading male bovines to be sacrificed; male animals were normally not sacrificed to goddesses, so these must have been cattle sacrificed under Nike’s supervision before battle, as M. Jameson convincingly argued.27 I return to these sacrifices below.

14 War booty was occasionally dedicated on the Akropolis, the first extant example being the spoils of the war from the Boeotians and Chalcidians in 506 (IG I 3 501A), but all of these were dedicated to Pallas Athena. To go by the extant epigraphical and archaeological evidence, Athena Nike seems to have received her first spoils in her new sanctuary, namely a bronze statue dedicated from spoils of campaigns in 427 to 425 and shields captured at Pylos in 425 and hung on the bastion the following year.28In Peter Schultz’ words, the Nike temple was now a ‘permanent, prominent, Athenian war votive’.29 These dedications seem to be further examples of a policy to grant special honours to Athena Nike, that decree 35 inaugurated or to which it contributed. What was the priestess to do in all of this?

The office of the priestess of Athena Nike

15 Our evidence on her office in the fifth century consists primarily of the texts of IG I3 35 and 36 as well as the Myrrhine epigram (IG I 3 1330) that confirms the duties of the priestess to take care of the sanctuary and its statue, and, most importantly, confirms her selection by lot (l. 6). In the debate on the decrees and the priesthood, however, a few elements seem to have played a somewhat misleading role.

16 Firstly, the temple. IG I3 35 inaugurates both the plan for a temple and the priesthood, but the date of the actual construction of the Nike temple is as heavily debated as that of the decree that commissioned it. Scholars agree that for the construction of the Propylaea the bastion of the promontory was raised to be on the same level as the southwest wing, while the whole was designed to match the overall plans of the Akropolis.30 Supporting the connection between this construction and IG I3 35, there is one architectural fact: the sheathing of the bastion and the foundations of the Nike temple were made at the same time.31 If this means that both were conceived in one plan from the beginning, this plan was in all probability IG I 3 35 and the decree must then predate the construction of the Propylaea. But if we date IG I3 35 to the early-440s,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 92

close to the first stage of the Periklean building program, or to the early-430s, close to the beginning of the construction of the Propylaea in 437/6, how is the gap in time between the decree 35 and 424/3, the date of the decree 36 about the priestess’ payment, to be explained?32

17 Moreover, how soon did the actual building of the temple follow on the decree?Since the beginning of the construction of the Propylaea, the design of the southwest wing was revised several times. For the date of the construction of the Nike temple, we must rely on relative chronology of architectural elements compared with other buildings of these years. Margaret Miles argued that the Nike temple was built somewhat later than the temple for Artemis Agrotera on the Ilissos, by the same Kallikrates who was commissioned to build the Nike temple. Miles dated the Ilissos-temple to ca. 435–30 and the beginning of the Nike-temple shortly before 434, because small chips of marble, that she supposed were cut off when the Propylaea were being finished, were found under its foundations.33 A terminus ante quem for the Nike-temple are its friezes, whose style is dated to ca. 420–18 on comparison with other relief sculpture for which absolute dates are available.34 I. Mark, although contesting that the marble chips derived from the Propylaea, concludes for the Nike-temple that ‘[a]rchitectural criteria point to a date at earliest toward the close of the Propylaea project in the late 430’s, at latest in the early years of the Erechtheion project, begun ca. 420.’35 J. Hurwit sees two possibilities for the construction program: either the raising of the bastion belonged to the first stage of the Propylaea terminated in 432, or the southwest wing of the Propylaea as it stands now belonged to the raising of the bastion and the building of the Nike temple in the 420s.36

18 In this debate, architectural elements provide a relative chronology, which is asked to cohere with (the majority undated) inscriptions in order to create a reasonable chronological order of events. While such reasoning has weaknesses of its own, in this case there is also an acute problem. The contention that the first stage of the Propylaea was terminated and the work on the Nike temple began in the late 430s, depends on the conventional reconstruction and dating of the much-disputed Kallias-decrees (IG I3 52 A and B; ML 58 A and B), two decrees dealing with monies of Athena inscribed on either side of a stele. ‘Kallias’ B, which is much more damaged than Kallias A, concerns work on the Pro[pylaea] and poses a limit of 10,000 dr. to be drawn from Athena’s reserve without authorisation. H.T. Wade-Gery restored its missing prescript as the prescript of decree A with its proposer Kallias, making it a decision of the same session of the assembly. Since B belonged to a Panathenaeic year, so must A if it held the same prescript. The first phrase in B (l. 3–4) on the Pro[pylaea] was restored with ‘to complete’. Other scholars, among whom M. Cavanaugh, did not think that the reference to the Panathenaea in B compellingly dated both decrees to a Panathenaeic year and advanced independent arguments for a date in 432. In any case, both decrees seemed to imply that due to financial constraints before the impeding war the work on the Propylaea was finished, or rather interrupted, in or shortly after 434, as we saw in the arguments of Miles (434) and Hurwitt (432).37 This reading of the Kallias-decrees, which filled the gaps in chronological data in the epigraphical and archaeological evidence, evolved into a near consensus among historians and archaeologists in the 1970s and 1980s.38 Against this reading, however, L. Kallet-Marx and L.J. Samons convincingly argue for quite different dates, 431/0 or 432 for Kallias A and 422/1 for ‘Kallias’ B, as well as for quite different contents of B, without the alleged termination of the first stage of the Propylaea.39 Given that the epigraphical support for this stage in the late

Kernos, 27 | 2014 93

430s has now evaporated, and with it a date for the beginning of the Nike-temple, we now only have a terminus ante quem for the latter, the late 420s.

19 Secondly, there is the priestess’ payment, that IG I3 36 was decreed to settle. The date of the decree is probably 424/3, since most scholars take the secretary Neokleides to be the same as the Neokleides who drafted IG I 3 75, a treaty with Halieis that was very likely concluded in 424/3.40 This date also fits well with the time when the temple was nearly finished and hence some scholars assume that the completion of the temple triggered the regulation of the payment.41 For instance, H.B. Mattingly, who had always objected to a wide gap of time between decrees 35 and 36, at first had defended a date of ca. 430 for decree 35, but later favoured an even closer connection between them. In his view, decree 35 with the decision to create the priesthood and to build the temple, and IG I 3 64 a-b voting for the bronze statue of Athena Nike, both belonged to 425. Hardly a year later, her payment was neatly arranged and further decisions about the temple were taken in decree 36.42 Although Mattingly’s solution would solve some of the riddles arising from a (much) earlier date of decree 35, it is not really convincing, because he does not take the architectural data concerning the temple sufficiently into account.

20 Whether or not a substantial interlude between 35 and 36 is deemed plausible, in this debate the temple features as the indispensable backdrop for the priestess’ office, as if she somehow ‘carried out her office’ there.43 But that is not necessarily the case. The office of a priest or priestess was to perform certain cultic actions, notably sacrifice, for which s/he did not need a temple but only an altar. Decree IG I3 35 takes the initiative for both the priestess and the temple, but the temple and the priestess did not depend on one another. Put differently, there is no intrinsic need to immediately connect the actual construction of the temple to epigraphical data on the priestess or vice versa.

21 What was decree IG I3 36 about? It orders the 50 drachmas agreed in the former decree to be paid in Thargelion by the kolakretai. Some scholars take this regulation to mark the priestess’ first payment on entering her office, others think it entailed a change, for instance in the source of the money (henceforth from the treasury held by the kolakretai), while the priestess had been in office since decree 35. Either way, the payment is usually called a ‘salary’, as if in Thargelion she were paid for an office on an annual basis.44 But this idea of a ‘salary’ implies anachronistic notions of state service and is therefore an inadequate ‘filter’ — to use Christiane Sourvinou’s terminology — through which to perceive the priesthood.

22 Salaries in the sense of payment for one’s time, let alone for a stretch of time as long as a year, were unknown in classical Athens. Normally, people were paid for the services or goods they provided; selling one’s labour for a prolonged time was a sign of dependency.45Polis officials were appointed for a year, but any misthos they received was a fee per session or service. Priests and priestesses received payment in money and / or in kind for their cultic actions, called gera(s) and in Athens also hierôsyna or apometra.46 For sacrifice, the backleg of the sacrificial animal as mentioned in decree 35 was a conventional piece of honour for priests, and so were hides as a perquisite.47 At Athens, examples of payment in money are the 3 dr. 3 ob. per person to the Eumolpidai for initiation in the Eleusinian Mysteries and 16 drachmas for priests of the Ionian phyle Geleontes for sacrifices to Zeus Phratrios and Athena Phratria.48 The highest fees extant in the polis calendar are 100 drachmas for the priestess of Demeter for a biennial sacrifice, and 30, 70 or 120 drachmas for the priestess of Athena Polias for a sacrifice in

Kernos, 27 | 2014 94

Metageitnion.49 On this evidence, the 50 drachmas for the priestess of Athena Nike must have been a fee for performing sacrifices on behalf of the dêmos, of which she also received her perquisite in kind. What sacrifices were these?

3 E1 23 IG I 35 says that ‘a’ priestess is to be installed (τeι Νίκ]ει 9B ιέρεαν) — no article, that is: a new priestess, and that she is to be remunerated for ‘the’ civic sacrifices (τoν δεμοσίον) — with article: these sacrifices were therefore already known.50 τoν δεμοσίον means paid by the dêmos and for the benefit of the dêmos, in other words, dêmotelês.51 Were these sacrifices the traditional sacrifices presumably performed since the mid- sixth century? That is not very likely. It would be against Athenian custom to take a sacrifice or any other cultic action away from the traditional performer to assign it to someone else. Rather, when the polis wanted to give new honours to a deity, a new cult or activity was established and a new person was assigned to perform it.52 In this particular case, giving a new priestess but no extra sacrifices would be a poor tribute to Athena Nike, whose cult was embellished in this scheme on a large scale. Finally, 50 drachmas is a substantial fee, for performing apparently sizeable sacrifices. In sum, it is more likely that these were new sacrifices and quite grand at that. The new altar measured almost 4 m. across, which is ample space for a generous offering.53

24 On this close-reading of IG I 3 35, I suggest that preceding this decree a decision was made to honour Athena Nike with special dêmotelês sacrifices; let us call this decision decree pre-35. Next, a priesthood was created to perform this new sacrifice, plus a new temple, plus a new altar; this is decree 35.

Sacrifices for Athena Nike

25 For the institution of such civic sacrifices in the context of polis-religion, the essential parallel is the sacrifice of 500 goats to Artemis Agrotera on her festival on 6th Boedromion, celebrating the victory at Marathon. Tradition held that before the battle the Athenians made a vow to sacrifice a goat to Artemis Agrotera for every Persian killed at Marathon, but the dead were so numerous that the number was fixed on an annual offering of 500.54 Following a procession to the shrine of Artemis, this large sacrifice was still performed by the polemarchos in the days of the Athênaion Politeia, and it was the first public festival connected to the Persian wars instituted by the dêmos.55 More celebrations of the victories followed, the next major one being the Theseia, instituted when Kimon captured Skyros and due to an oracle brought the hero’s bones from the island to Athens in 476/5. Performance of the new sacrifices of this festival was assigned to the genos Phytalidai, who were anchored in the same deme as Kimon, and paid for by a special tax of five drachmas, probably levied on a group of prominent families.56 Special sacrifices for Athena Nike would fit very well in this series of civic sacrifices connected to the Persian wars, since they carried both a propitiating and a commemorative function. Paid for by the dêmos, the sacrifices would strengthen the charis between the dêmos and the goddess to the benefit of the dêmos.

26 If this hypothesis makes sense of the purpose of IG I3 35, the payment to the priestess still shows some irregularities compared to similar cult- and cost-regulations. Normally, the kind of sacrifice was fixed, by tradition or by decree, as was the moment when it was to take place (at least the festival month) and the perquisites following on the performance. Decree 35 only specifies the perquisites, decree 36 only the festival month when the fee is to be paid and by which body.57 A conjunction with a sacrificial

Kernos, 27 | 2014 95

event is lacking here, and therefore it seems that payment of the money took place separate from the sacrificial act. On the other hand, since the decree does not mention a specific arrangement for the meat and hides, apparently the priestess received those as normal, after the sacrifices. Taken together, this evidence suggests that the priestess performed civic sacrifices at more than one moment in the year and / or at unspecified moments. For all of these sacrifices she received payment in one month, Thargelion, and the meat and hides immediately after each sacrifice.58 It is noteworthy that Thargelion is in the late Spring, when the war season began.59 The time of payment is set in a month in the festival calendar, not the bouleutic calendar, and this suggests a connection with a sacrificial calendar, rather than with the administrative schedule.60 In the fifth century, there are no extant parallels for such a regulation of payment in a specific month by the kolakretai.

27 On all this evidence, I would tentatively conjecture that the priestess was to perform new sacrifices, perhaps before campaigns but especially after victorious battles. What kind of sacrifices these civic sacrifices for Athena Nike were is difficult to tell, but I would like to clarify their role in comparison to the cattle depicted on the parapet reliefs. I return here to Jameson’s argument that the parapet reliefs depict the sphage, the cutting of the throat of sacrificial animals before battle, a sacrifice that did not or only rarely address a particular deity but mainly served as a means of divination and as a general propitiatory offering.61 Normally, armies sacrificed goats and rams,62 and fine male bovines such as depicted on the parapet were probably not sacrificed in reality for this purpose. Rather, the reliefs depict a splendid sacrifice of precious cattle supervised by Athena Nike in the presence of Athena, in a symbolic representation of which the message is blunt, even brutal: Victory and Athena guarantee the success of the Athenian people, committed to battle. Nike, under Athena’s eyes, ensures by the violent act of killing that the Athenians will win.63

28 I would argue that the civic sacrifices for Athena Nike belonged to same ‘message’ but were neither the sacrificial animals such as those depicted on the parapet, nor the goats or rams actually killed before battle in sphage. The male cattle were unsuited for Athena Nike, as mentioned before, and the sphage sacrifices were likewise not meant in particular for this goddess, who normally would receive a thank offering after the victory. Moreover, sphage sacrifices could hardly be considered ‘civic’ in the usual sense and they were made on a battlefield (far) away from Athens, a fact that made giving the hides to the priestess not impossible, but at least highly impractical. If my hypothesis is valid, the sacrifices to which decree 35 refers were meant for Athena Nike and to be offered in her sanctuary on the Akropolis on the altar there, in due course on the new stone altar.

29 Some tenuous evidence supports this hypothesis, notably the association of Athena Nike with Artemis Agrotera. As mentioned above, Kallikrates was commissioned to build new temples for both goddesses, in gratitude for their protection and the victories in the Persian wars.64 Besides this architectural connection, we find a tiny epigraphical trace on the sacrificial calendar of Athens recorded in 404–399, listing a sacrifice on 6th Boedromion to an Athena, from the rubric ἐκ τῶν μὴ ῥητῆι, ‘from those on an unspecified day’.65 The epithet of this Athena is not preserved; was she perhaps Athena Nike, with one of the sacrifices for her now fixed on the festival of Artemis Agrotera, ‘Marathon’ day?

Kernos, 27 | 2014 96

The making of IG I3 35

30 If this reconstruction makes sense, we are in a better position to explain the phrasing of decree 35 and perhaps also the extraordinary construction of the stone. Again, this explanation is entirely conjectural because parallels do not exist. First, decree pre-35 was enacted, inaugurating the civic sacrifices to Athena Nike in her sanctuary. A provision for the money to pay for these sacrifices was probably included. Next, the decision elaborating decree pre-35, now IG I 3 35, was made. Above, I argued that the proposal by the unknown man in line 2 was most likely not a rider, but a decree, and

E1 that we might accept Meritt’s restoration in line 1 of the enactment clause [ ἔδοχσεν τ B0 E1 ι βολB0 ι καὶ τo]ι [δέ]μο[ι]. With this clause, there is no room for the full prescript in lines 1–2, only for the epistatês.

31 For such a drafting, the following hypothesis would provide an explanation. If decree 35 was enacted in the same prytany and with the same grammateus as pre-35, but on another day with a different epistatês, the prescript of pre-35 would also be valid for 35, provided that the new epistatês were included when both decrees were joined. Drafted in this manner, the enactment clause of 35 would be very concise, but such concision matches the drafting style of this decree, as we saw above, since in the rider of Hestiaios the usual clause (τὰ μὲν ἄλλα) καθάπερ… was also uniquely omitted. With both decrees under one prescript, the phyle Leontis could claim credit for the whole Athena Nike-plan and its execution. A similar sequence of events is recorded in IG I3 68, listing consecutive decisions in the prytany of Kekropis, but in this case the prescripts of the two decrees are twice included in full, and the decrees and their riders were finally inscribed on a single stone.66

32 Why were decrees pre-35 and 35 not likewise inscribed together on one stone? I can only explain the present construction by assuming that decree pre-35 was already inscribed and that the Athenians — more precisely, the phyle Leontis — were reluctant to discard this stone, for instance because it was already consecrated to Athena Nike and / or carried a (small) relief, when they had to add the new decree 35. In this situation, it might have made sense to join the original stone with the dowels to a new one, which next was inscribed with 35.

33 Some further support of this hypothesis may be found in the drafting of decree 35. It is not only quite lapidary, but the logical coherence of this decree is also difficult to see: the proposal first concerns the creation and selection of a priestess, next doors for the sanctuary with the necessary design and costs. Then it returns to the priestess, namely her perquisites, and next again to the sanctuary, its new temple and a new altar. As Robin Osborne points out, we miss here the arguments of decree 35.67 On my hypothesis, pre-35 entailed the main argument, to which decree 35 provided meaningful additions. New sacrifices invited a new priestess to perform them. And with new dêmosios money assigned for the sacrifices that would not all be spent at once, added to the goddess’ existing ample treasury, doors to protect the sanctuary were called for. The priestess was to receive a fitting remuneration and in a crescendo the whole plan was topped by an entirely new temple and altar, in line with the Akropolis building program. The inscribed decrees would draw permanent attention to the decisions of the dêmos made in the prytany of Leontis to honour Athena Nike to the benefit of the polis.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 97

34 The reason for decree IG I3 36 can only be guessed at, but if my hypothesis is valid, some conjectures can be made. Once the dêmosios money was collected (or set aside) for the sacrifices, it belonged to the goddess, but due to its special purpose it probably was not added to her regular treasury. The kolakretai were the obvious body to be in charge of this fund, since their functions included among other things handling (money meant for) sacrifices at polis level.68 They provided the money for a comparable provision for Bendis: a priest (ess?) and civic sacrifices for her festival (IG I3 136 l. 32–39; 413/2?) plus the stele on which this decision was inscribed. Bendis, too, had her own treasury before and beside this extra dêmosios money, at least since 429.69 So I do not think the role of the kolakretai was the new element of this decree. Rather, it was not obvious when the overall remuneration of the priestess of Athena Nike for her sacrifices throughout the year should be paid. Apparently, Kallias proposed to settle this issue in (probably) 424/ 3. But this decree does not illuminate when the priestess had begun her duties, nor the stage in the completion of the temple.

The tenure of the priestess

35 Finally, I turn to the question of the tenure of the priestess. Was hers a life-time or an annual office?70 As far as we know, at Athens in the fifth century until decree 35 all polis cults were served by priests and priestesses from the genê, whose office was for life.71 This life-long tenure fits a wider Greek pattern, exemplified in the tenure of the priestesses of Hera at Argos, used for dating purposes by Hellanicus of Lesbos, counting ‘in the xth year of the priesthood of y’.72 At Athens, after Perikles’ Law all citizens were qualified for priesthood due to their descent from two Athenian parents, and new priesthoods could be filled from among the dêmos.73 On our extant evidence, the priestess of Athena Nike was the first of this kind. Perhaps this priesthood owed some of its conception to the Pythia at Delphi, who was selected from among all Delphian women, as was well-known at Athens; she too served the god for life.74 Annual office of priests became attested at Athens from the fourth century onwards, for instance for the male priesthood of Asklepios, another polis priesthood established in the later fifth century on the democratic model of selection ‘from all’.75 Some male priesthoods of this type came to be filled by rotation among the phylai, but still of course ‘from all’.

36 But did priesthoods held by women also change to this annual pattern? Annual tenure of a priestess has been inferred from a decree of 283/2 passed by the Assembly to cleanse the sanctuary of Aphrodite Pandemos, ‘in the priesthood (ἐπὶ ἱερείας) of Hegesipyle, in the archonship of Euthios’.76 I am not convinced, however, that this phrasing indicates dating by annual office of this priestess beyond a doubt. The preposition epi with genitive indicates the time of office and with it the authority of the office in which the event took place. When it refers to an annual office, epi in effect indicates the relevant year, but in the case of offices of a different duration, it is questionable if the preposition itself refers to a year. We find epi indicating the time of office of priestesses of Athena Polias, priesthoods that were certainly lifetime offices, held by women belonging to the genos Eteoboutadai.77 In the case of the decree on the sanctuary of Aphrodite Pandemos, one could argue that the archonship of Euthios was added to indicate the year of the event, joined to authority of the office of the priestess Hegesipyle. And even if this priesthood was annual in 283/2, this does not mean that it had been so from the beginning.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 98

37 Instead, I would argue that the tenure of the priestess needs to be understood within the gendered pattern of holding public office in Athens. As Christiane Sourvinou- Inwood observed, male and female citizens were both active in public office, but the terms of office holding were structured along gender lines.78 We saw that in the mid- fifth century all priestly offices, belonging to the genê, were lifetime appointments. Women’s offices were all cultic offices, primarily as priestesses, and were typically life time appointments. By contrast, annual office was typical of men’s offices (archai) in the political context of the polis. The new priesthood was a major change in that now ‘all citizen women’ were eligible for this office, instead of assigning the new sacrifices to an existing genos or an archon. But casting a female office in the masculine frame of annual office holding would have been incongruous. That in the course of time male priestly offices ‘from all’ ceased to be lifetime appointments on the model of the genê priesthoods, but were made to fit the pattern of annual rotation on the model of ‘political’ offices, is an interesting development, but it was not necessarily carried over into women’s cultic offices.

Conclusions

38 On a re-reading of IG I3 35 and 36, I suggest that the polis Athens at some point after 448 decided to honour Athena Nike with new sacrifices paid by the dêmos, perhaps to induce the goddess to grant her support before campaigns and probably to thank her after victorious battles. In many respects, the new sacrifices fit a wider pattern of dêmotelês festivals honouring the gods and heroes of Attica, especially in commemoration of their help to Athens during the Persian Wars. Once this decision about the sacrifices was made, decree 35 added a radical step by creating a new priestess to perform them, to be selected not from the genê but from all Athenians. Nike’s cult, including the money of the dêmos for the sacrifices, was to be gloriously housed in a new temple and a fitting new altar for the sacrifice was commissioned.

39 Listing the relevant decrees with their possible dates and implications we find the following. The plan of the temple commissioned in decree IG I3 35 requires the raising of the bastion, a construction integrated with the southwest wing of the Propylaea. If the plan for this wing was an integral part of the design of the Propylaea, the decree was made probably before 437, when work on the Propylaea began. The presence of a large treasury of Nike in her sanctuary before 433/2, which required some protection by fitting doors to it, further points to a date before 433, and the more so if extra money collected from the dêmos for the sacrifices was to be stored here. Kallias A brought the treasuries of the Other Gods to the Akropolis, with presumably further protection of all these treasures. In sum, all this evidence weighs heavily towards a date of decree 35 after 448 and before 437 or the mid- 430s.

40 Once the decree was enacted and the priestess selected, she could enter her office straightaway. The priestess held her office for life and she was remunerated after each sacrifice by perquisites in kind and for all the sacrifices throughout the year by a payment of 50 drachmas. In 424/3 probably, decree 36 ruled to make the payments due to her in Thargelion. But a date for decree 35 in the early 420s cannot be ruled out, assuming that the war and the pestilence did not preclude a decision of this kind. If the decree was enacted coherent with the revision of the south wing in the early 420s, the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 99

bastion could have been finished in 425 when the new statue was dedicated and next the trophies were attached. A few years later, the temple was finished.

Appendix

Decree / account possible Comment date

IG I3 35 After 448 Beginning of Periklean building program

Before 437 Beginning of Propylaea construction. Plan for southwest wing including bastion?

Before Large loans from treasury of Athena Nike show full treasury; 433/2 doors to sanctuary advisable.

IG I3 45 ? Protection of Akropolis against intruders by construction and guards.

IG I 3 52 A (Kallias 432/1 (?) Payment of money owed to the gods; treasuries of the Other A) Gods collected on Akropolis.

IG II3 444 (= II2 403) 425 Bronze statue of Athena Nike; in new sanctuary?

IG I336 424/3 (?) Payment of priestess settled in Thargelion.

IG I3 52 B (‘Kallias’ 422/1 (?) Financial provisions; some reference to the Propylaea. B)

Before 420– Nike temple finished 18

IG I3 35

41 EM 8116, now Akropolis Museum. Marble opistographic stele, broken at the bottom and damaged at the top; oblong holes as for dowels and anathyrosis on the backwards sloping surface on the top. Found on the north side of the Akropolis in an old building near the klepsydra; h. 0,29, 0,24 m., w. 0,387 m., th. 0,091–0,096 m. Attic script, stoichedon 29 (0,017, 0,013).

42 Ed. Kavvadias (1897), text 177, photo 11–12; gives height 0,30 m., width 0,38 m., thickness 0,09 m.; LGS II, 11A; Kern (1913), photo 14; Guarducci (1967), p. 140–143, photo 141; IG I 2 24; Syll. 3 63; Dinsmoor (1923); Dinsmoor (1941); Tod (1946), no. 40; Meritt (1941), Meritt and Wade-Gery (1963), both from squeeezes, underlying IG I3 35 = IG; ML 44, from squeezes. From autopsy, checked against squeezes in Texas by P. Perlman and photos of squeezes in Oxford: http://www.csad.ox.ac.uk/CSAD/Images/00/ Image69.html; http://www.csad.ox.ac.uk/CSAD/Images/00/Image376.html and in Ohio, belonging to S.V. Tracy: http://drc.ohiolink.edu/handle/2374.OX/840; http:// drc.ohiolink.edu/handle/2374.OX/864

Kernos, 27 | 2014 100

Text

43 [ἔδοχσεν τeι βολeι καὶ τo]ι [δέ]μ̣ο̣[ι·…] 1 [……ἐπεστάτει..8].ι̣κος εἶπε· [τeι] [Ἀθεναίαι τeι Νί]κ̣ει hιέρεαν hὲ ἄγ̣[..] […..11…..]ι ἐχς Ἀθεναίον hαπα[σο] [ν…7….].σ̣θ̣αι καὶ το hιερὸν θυρoσα- 5 ι καθ’ ὅ τι ἂν Καλλικράτες χσυγγράφσ- ει· ἀπομισθoσαι δὲ τὸς πολετὰς ἐπὶ τ- eς Λεοντίδος πρυτανείας· φέρεν δὲ τ- ὲν hιέρεαν πεντέκοντα δραχμὰς καὶ τὰ σκέλε καὶ τὰ δέρματα φέρεν τoν δε- 10 μοσίον· νεὸν δὲ οἰκοδομeσαι καθότι ἂν Καλλικράτες χσυγγράφσει καὶ βο- μὸν λίθινον. vac. hεστιαῖος εἶπε· τρeς ἄνδρας hελέσθ- αι ἐγ βολeς· τούτος δὲ μετ[ὰ] Καλλικρά- 15 [το]ς χσυγγράφσαντας ἐπ[….10……] [..4..]ει καθ’ ὅ τι ἀπομ̣[ισθοθέσεται..] […6…] ε̣ι [.] ος […..18……..] 44 Above, on the top stone: [Λεοντὶς ἐπρυτάνευε] IG │1 [ἐγραμμάτε]υ[εν], Μο[….] Syll.3 2 E1 and IG I ; ἐν τo]ι [δέ]μο[ι ἐν τ][eι πρότει 9B έδραι] Meritt 1941; [ἔδοχσεν τeι βολeι καὶ τ E1 o]ι [δέ]μο[ι] LGS, IG; [τo]ι [δέ]μο[ι] ML. │2 [Γλ]αυκος IG; -αικος ML │3–4: 9B ὲ ἂ[ν διὰ βίο E1 E1 E1 9B ιερᾶτα]ι LGS / Tod │4–5 9B απά[ντον..] LGS; 9B απα[σό-]/[ν καθίστα]σθαι ML, IG.

Translation

45 […].ikos proposed: to select (or: establish) as a priestess for Athena Nike whoever will be [allotted] from all Athenian women and to provide the sanctuary with doors in whatever way Kallikrates will specify; and the poletai are to place the contract within the prytany of Leontis; the priestess is to receive fifty drachmai and to receive the backlegs and hides of the dêmosios sacrifices; and that a temple be built in whatever way Kallikrates may specify and a stone (marble) altar. vac.

46 Hestiaios proposed: that three men be selected from the boulê; and that they will make the specifications with Kallikrates and […..] in accordance with [the contracts…]

Epigraphical commentary

47 IG I3 gives height 0,39 m.; this cannot be right; in this, it follows IG I 2 24, which states max. 0,39 m. Neither Tod nor ML give measures. S.V. Tracy (1984) identified the cutter as the cutter of IG I3 435.

48 Line 1: signs of Ι and ΜΟ were first seen by von Prott at autopsy of the stone (see Syll.3, p. 77) and included in Ziehen’s edition in LGS. I can only confirm the last two letters: two small vertical dots that could be Α but more likely Μ, and a small circle that could be either Ο or Θ. These traces are visible when the stone is lighted from above, not with only the daylight coming from the left on its current position in the New Akropolis

Kernos, 27 | 2014 101

Museum. Where Prott saw the Ι, the stone is now too severely damaged to be legible without additional light. The first line is legible on none of the squeezes, and it seems that both IG and ML relied on von Prott here.

49 Line 2: (Fig. 5) in the name of the speaker, a small vertical stroke is visible before K that Meritt read as Υ, but I seems to me more likely, because the Υ of this cutter has a slightly rounded left-bending left stroke, whereas this letter is a straight vertical one. Preceding this letter, W. Dinsmoor (1941), p. 159, n. 337, noted a sloping line, taken to be Α. Meritt and IG reading Υ restore [Γλ]αυκος, so does Guarducci, who follows Meritt and Wade-Gery (1963) throughout her text. ML, accepting the Α and next reading Ι, suggest a name ending on -αικος; P. Perlman could not confirm the sloping line from the squeezes in Texas, but instead she saw traces of a circular letter (Ο? Θ?) and suggested names ending on -οικος or -θικος (per ep.). We might think for the proposer of names such as (following Dinsmoor’s sloping line: Σ?) Φυσικός (1), a man of the phyle Leontis listed on the casualty list of ca. 411 (IG I3 1190.152), or (following Perlman’s O) Νέοικος (1), a man whose son Theodotos was on the board of the Delian Amphiktyones in 410/9 (IG I3 1460.4). These possibilities suggest the type of name but cannot be taken to establish the identity of the speaker. On my interpretation, in l. 2 ἐπεστάτει is to be restored, but its exact position in the line is impossible to tell. On the hypothesis of a short name of the proposer, such as the ones suggested above of seven letters, the epistates could have a name of nine letters.

Figure 5

Photo: Josine Blok, by courtesy of the New Akropolis Museum

50 Line 3: at the end of the line, an Attic Γ has been read; the stone is much damaged here, on one squeeze a trace of an oblique stroke is visible that I accept as Γ.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 102

51 Line 3–5: Restoration of the missing words drawing on the epigram of the first priestess, Myrrhine (IG I3 1330, l. 6: ἐ|κ πάντων κλήρω|ι Μυρρίνε εὐτυ|χιαι) in IG: [τeι] E1 E1 E1 [Ἀθεναίαι τeι Νίκ̣]ει 9B ιέρεαν 9B ὲ ἄγ[κλ] / [ερομένε λάχε]ι ἐχς Ἀθεναίον 9B απα[σό-]/[ν καθίστα]σθαι which draws furthermore on Pl., Politicus, 298e: Κατ’ ἐνιαυτὸν δέ γε ἄρχοντας καθίστασθαι τοῦ πλήθους, εἴτε ἐκ τῶν πλουσίων εἴτε ἐκ τοῦ δήμου παντός, ὃς E1 ἂν κληρούμενος λαγχάνῃ. In line 4–5, ἐχς Ἀθεναίον 9B απα[ντό]/[ν], as in the epigram, cannot be ruled out, but the feminine article of the woman to be selected makes ἐχς E1 Ἀθεναίον 9B απα[σό-]/[ν] the most attractive. For the verb in 4–5 ἐχσαιρέ]σ̣θ̣αι is a plausible alternative, for which see my arguments in n. 74.

IG I3 36

52 Ed.: as in IG I 3 35; LGS II, 11B; ML 71 (from squeezes); stoichedon 23. From autopsy, checked against squeezes as in IG I3 35.

53 Lit. on the date: Meritt and Davidson (1935); West (1935); Wade-Gery (1940 = 1958, 207ff.); Raubitschek (1964); Mattingly (1996); Mattingly (2000).

Text

54 ἔδοχσεν τeι βολέι καὶ τoι δέ- 1 μοι, Αἰγεὶς ἐπρυτάνευε, Νεοκ- κλείδης ἐγραμμάτευε, Ἁγνόδε- μος ἐπεστάτε, Καλλίας εἶπε· τ- E1 eι 9B ιερέαι τeς Ἀθενάας τές Νί- 5 κες [[Δ]] πεντήκοντα δραχμὰς τὰ- ς γεγραμ[μ]ένας ἐν τῆι στήλ[ηι] ἀποδιδόναι τὸς κωλακρ[έτας], [ο]ἳ̣ ἂν κωλακρετῶσι τo Θ̣[αργηλ] [ιῶ]νος μηνὸς, τῆι ἱερ[έαι τῆς Ἀ]- 10 [θην]αίας τῆς Νίκη[ς..8….] 55 6 [[]] ML | vac. IG | 9 Ποσιδειῶνος Syll.3

Translation

56 The council and assembly decided, Aigeis held the prytany, Neokleides was secretary, Hagnodemos presided, Kallias proposed: for the priestess of Athena Nike the kolakretai, who will be in office in the month Thargelion, are to pay the fifty drachmas that are written on the stele to the priestess of Athena Nike…

Epigraphical commentary

57 Written in Attic script in line 1–6 to Νίκες (note a non-aspiration in Ἁγνόδεμος, Attic h E1 in 9B ιερέαι and Ἀθενάας, a form occurring from the archaic age till the mid-fourth century [Threatte (1980), p. 271–274]), after the erasure in line 6 in Ionic script by a different hand with slightly smaller script and a somewhat uneven stoichedon.

58 In line 6, IG takes the erasure to be a vacat and ML an erasure of the numeral 50; ML seems to follow Ziehen here, who interpreted the erasure indicated in von Prott’s

Kernos, 27 | 2014 103

autograph to be an erased numeral (LGS II, 47). These interpretations of the erasure, which rely on squeezes, are impossible at autopsy of the stone. A sloping line from left to right is clearly visible on the stone (Fig. 6) and confirmed by the squeezes in Texas, which cannot be attic Π and is too large for the numeral. It could be the beginning of the Attic gamma Λ, Α or Δ. Next, this sloping line was erased and someone else continued the inscription, beginning with ‘fifty drachmas’. I would argue that the first cutter began Δ for drachmas, forgetting the numeral, and that after this error he was replaced by someone else, who carried on with the correct words and writing the amount in full, not as a numeral, just as in the text of 35 to which decree 36 explicitly refers here. The use of Ionic script by this second cutter, despite the Attic in which decree 36 began, for the same decree strongly suggests that the choice for Attic or Ionic script was not (only) up to the grammateus, but could equally be up to the cutter. This conclusion must be taken into account in the debate about the use of Ionic script in inscriptions in these years, on which see further Matthaiou (2009).

Figure 6

Photo: Josine Blok, by courtesy of the New Akropolis Museum

59 In line 9, the Θ seen by von Prott cannot confidently be confirmed from the stone, but on one squeeze in Texas the upper curve is visible and the number of letters is consistent with Θαργηλιῶνος, whereas the Π of the alternative Ποσιδειῶνος (Dittenberger) does not match either the stone or the squeeze.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 104

NOTES

*. The core of this article was presented at the conference‘Reading’ Greek Religion (Archaic and Classical): Literary, Historical and Artistic Perspectives’ convened in memory of Christiane Sourvinou- Inwood by Athena Kavoulaki at Rethymnon, Crete, 22–24 Sept. 2012; I am most grateful to Athena Kavoulaki for inviting me to this conference and for the response of the participants to this paper. 1. For both decrees, I refer to the texts, made on autopsy and compared with the reports on the squeezes, which are included at the end of this article. The stone with decrees IG I3 35 and 36 is now on display in the New Akropolis Museum, Athens, and I am most grateful to the Directors of the Museum for allowing me to study the stone on its pedestal and for their kind permission to take and publish photographs. Dr. Paula Perlman (Univ. of Austin, Texas) kindly checked for me the squeezes of both inscriptions once in the possession of B.D. Meritt. For this article, I am greatly obliged to Robin Osborne, P.J. Rhodes, an anonymous referee for Kernos and above all Stephen Lambert for comments on previous drafts; of course, responsibility for the present text rests solely with me. 2. For the debate on the three-bar-sigma and its consequences, RHODES (2008), who retains a date early in the 440s for IG I3 35. PAPAZARKADAS (2009) shows that due to the revision of the ‘old’ dates of many decrees with three-bar sigma and tailed-rho, the interdependence of these decrees causes a domino-effect of downdating, which often (but not always) tends to confirm dates H.B. MATTINGLY defended over the years, as collected in MATTINGLY (1996). 3. SOURVINOU-INWOOD (2000); SOURVINOU-INWOOD (1991).

F0 E1 4. MERITT (1941), p. 313 gave an alternative: ἐν τo]ι [δέ]μο[ι ἐν τ][ 65 ι πρότει 9B έδραι]. On the common but not invariable use of the prescript, RHODES (1972), p. 64, 71 n. 2; HENRY (1977), p. 13– 14 classifies the heading of IG I3 35 as ‘problematic’. 5. For such statements on (possibly contemporary) decrees: IG I3 32.32–4; 23.9–14; 24.9–14; 43.20– 1 (?); 46.21–3; on 35, it could have been included on the lower, now missing part of the stone. 6. The epitaph of Myrrhine, the first woman selected by lot to be priestess of Athena Nike, is an epigram (IG I 3 1330) of 16 lines on a marble stele; for text and monument, RAHN (1986) and LOUGOVAYA-AST (2006). Comparison with funerary monuments and epigrams favours a date ca. 420–400, adding the issue of the priestess’ age at the moment she entered her office to the discussion about the type of her tenure and the date of the decrees. D. LEWIS (1955), following a suggestion of I. PAPADEMETRIOU, supposed that Myrrhine was perhaps reflected in the woman of the same name in Ar. Lysistrata of 411, and that the protagonist could be identified with Lysimache, the contemporary priestess of Athena Polias. LEWIS’ suggestion, attractive though it is, raises many questions. Why was the name of Lysimache changed in Lysistrate, although the real name would also have fitted the plot (as Lewis notes; Ar., Lys., 554), whereas Myrrhine’s was left in the original form? Myrrhine was, moreover, a very common feminine name; can we be sure it was firmly associated with the priestess? A strong argument in favour of the identity is Ar. Lys. 207–208, where the woman Myrrhine is told she cannot be the first to take the oath unless she draws the first lot (CONNELLY [2007], p. 63). Lysistrate was the name of a mid-fifth century priestess of Demeter (dedicating IG I3 953), in 415 the priestess was Theano (Plut., Alk., 22, 33); see BLOK and LAMBERT (2009), p. 119, Philleidai no. 1 and 2. If Aristophanes indeed made a pun on the names of two or three well-known priestesses, he did so in a way so loose that we must be wary to use this as evidence supporting other arguments. 7. DINSMOOR (1923). 8. MERITT (1941), p. 311–315; Stephen LAMBERTper.ep.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 105

9. MERITT (1941), p. 313–314. 10. MERITT and WADE-GERY (1963), p. 109–310. 11. ML, p. 110–111. 12. More or less contemporary decrees with riders are IG I3 32, l. 6–7 and 35; IG I3 40, l. 40 and 70; IG I3 46, l. 36–40; IG I3 49, l. 13; IG I3 56, l. 9–10; IG I3 65, l. 8–9. In all these cases, riders are included in the final inscribed text, without repeating the enactment formula. All riders begin with (τὰ μὲν ἄλλα) καθάπερ; separation by a vacat: IG I3 40, l. 40; IG I3 46, l. 36–40. In IG I3 68, of 426/5, l. 30–33 the whole enactment clause is repeated, with a different epistates on another day of the same prytany (but with the same man speaking; on this text, see also below). Only IG I 3 35, l. 15 has no rider-formula, but it has a clear vacat before the rider. Whether the omission of the rider formula is due to the secretary or the cutter we cannot know. MERITT (1941), p. 314, still taking the beginning of 35 to be a rider and restoring in l. 2 the name of the proposer as [Gla]ukos, supposed that the rider was punctuated by a vacat space of one stoichos before the name, fitting a restoration with an epistates. However, the restoration ‘Glaukos’ is highly unlikely (see Appendix). On the cutter, S.V. TRACY (1984) showed that the man who cut IG I3 35 also cut IG I3 435, known as the Promachos-accounts until recently STROUD (2006) cast fundamental doubts on this identity of the fragments, which may not even all belong to the same inscription and are anyway too damaged to allow the drafting of the text to be compared with IG I3 35. 3 F0 F0 13. IG I 596 τ 65 ς Ἀθε̣[ναίας] τ65 ς Νίκες βομός. Πατροκ<λ>έδ̣[ες] ἐποίεσεν. On the archaic cult statue, MARK (1993), p. 20–30, 125 (date 600–560 BCE), but see also SHEAR (1999), p. 88 n. 11, with ref. to D. GIRAUD (1994), p. 32–34 (non vidi). 14. ALESHIRE (1994), LAMBERT (2010), p. 144–147. 15. On these figurines, MARK (1993), p. 22, 52–53, 66–67 with further lit. 16. IG I3 506 and 775; on some other dedications to Athena, παιδὶ Διὸς μεγάλο is added. IG II 2 4329; 4338; IG I2 561 are fourth c. dedications to Athena Ergane. Many dedications to Athena are first fruits (aparchai). 17. PARKER (1996), p. 90, n. 95. 18. For Athena Nike as a goddess of victory in war, PARKER (1996), p. 90, PARKER (2005), p. 398–399.

F0 E1 19. That τ 65 ι Νίκ]ει 9B ιέρεαν — i.e. without an article — means a new priestess is recognised since MERITT (1941), p. 310–311. 20. MERITT (1941), p. 310–311; tentatively LAMBERT (2010), p. 155. 21. LAMBERT (2010), p. 155, 158–60. 22. Her rich treasury was accounted for by the logistai of debts of the polis to the gods (IG I 3 369.51; ML 72) in 423/2; they include substantial sums belonging to Nike that had been on loan for eleven years. The treasury of Nike is accounted for separately from the treasuries of Athena and of the Other Gods. 23. For the date of the altar, SHEAR (1999), p. 122–124; this date blocks the way for MARK’S argument (1993, p. 36–122, 128–141) that this limestone altar belonged to a temporary construction made by Kallikrates according to the decree IG I3 35. 24. RO 81.16–22. The cattle are explicitly cows (19: τὰς βοῦς; 21–2: μίαν βοῶν). 25. RO, comm. p. 401–402. 26. Ath.Pol. 58, listing the duties of the Polemarchos including sacrifices to Artemis Agrotera, Enyalios and Harmodios and Aristogeiton, does not mention such a sacrifice to Athena Nike. Ath.Pol. describes the situation in the late fourth century and neither its historical nor its contemporary account is exhaustive. Silence on this matter therefore neither proves nor disproves the conjecture that before the mid-fifth century the Polemarchos was in charge of the sacrifices for Nike.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 106

27. JAMESON (1994) p. 313–317 on the sacrifice of the male cattle before battle depicted on the parapet; on the program, see also HURWIT (1999), p. 213–215; for the date of the parapet in 415 or even close to 410, p. 214. 28. For the statue, IG II3 444 (= II2 403), the spoils of campaigns in the Archidamian War: Thuc., III, 85, 106–112, 114; IV, 49; for the identity of the statue, MATTINGLY (2000), p. 605, LAMBERT (2012), p. 66–68. In the earlier years of the Archidamian war, before the completion of the temple, Athens set up war trophies in various places, SCHULTZ (2001), p. 38–39 and n. 128. 29. SCHULTZ (2001), p. 40, with bibl. in n. 136. 30. At this point, the debate also involves Kallikrates as architect of parts of the Akropolis- program. HOEPFNER (1997) argues that the conjunction of the Nike-temple with the Propylaea must have been designed in its entirety by Kallikrates, but HURWIT (1999), p. 209–211 more cautiously holds that the Nike temple structurally belongs to the Periklean conception of the Akropolis and that the architect of the temple must have been someone who took Mnesikles’ plans into account. MARK (1993) argues for a stage between the raising of the bastion with a temporary sanctuary and the final Ionian Nike temple, but see above, n. 23. 31. MILES (1980), p. 323–324: ‘The raising and sheathing of the bastion directly involved the laying of the foundations for the Temple of Athena Nike. This is indicated by the northwest corner of the bastion, where the foundations are bonded into the sheathing of ashlar masonry, and by the fact that the courses of the western and northern foundations of the temple follow the courses of the bastion wall, level by level.’ For the coherence of technical and architectural aspects of the Propylaea and Nike-temple, see also MARK (1993), p. 79–82; SHEAR (1999), p. 124–125. DINSMOOR (1923) and SHEAR (1999), p. 124 even argue that a stone lintel in the corner of the southwest wing, between the Propylaea and the temple, had held the Athena Nike-decree. Attractive though this idea may be, it is impossible to ascertain that this particular stone and no other stood there. 32. See also ML 71, comm. 33. MILES (1980), cf. CAMP (2001), p. 105–6; Paus., I, 19, 6. We must note, however, that the absolute date assigned to the Ilissos-temple depends on the dating of the Nike temple, which in turn depends on the ‘Kallias’-decrees, see below. 34. MARK (1993), p. 136, comparing the friezes with the relief on the Bridge Decree (IG I3 79, 422/1) and other decree-reliefs, IG I3 86 of 417/6 and IG I3 101 of 410/9. 35. MARK (1993), p. 86, and n. 86, where he contests MILES (1980), p. 323 that the marble working chips under the pavement of the Nike sanctuary stem from the Propylaea-project. Likewise for the Nike-temple SCHULTZ (2001), p. 1 with n. 1: ‘completion in the mid to late 420s’, with further bibl. 36. HURWIT (1999), p. 209–211, on TOMLINSON (1990). 37. The first accounts of the construction of the Propylaea (IG I3 462–466) run from 437 to 432 (?) but the building was not finished by then. 38. In a nutshell, the conventional view developed when WADE-GERY (1931) restored the now missing prescript of B as the same as that of A, proposed by the same man, with the same epistatês Eupeithes and passed on the same day. The Panathenaeic year of B (l. 28), as well as the absence of recorded repayments to the Other Gods between 433 and 423/2 that recur in B, together assigned B to 434/3, 422/1 or 418/7. Although first proposing a date in the 420s, WADE-GERY (1947) revised his view on the date of B, assigning both sides to 434. The texts with restorations were published in ATL (MERITT–WADE-GERY–MCGREGOR [1939–53] I, 1939), D 1 and 2 (p. 160–1), where in B l.

F0 3–4 the provision about the Propylaea was restored as ἐκποι 65 ν, ‘to complete’ (from Hdt., II, 125), allegedly calling for a rapid termination of the work. Fundamental criticism on the cutters, dates and contexts of the decrees came from MATTINGLY (1964) and PRITCHETT (1971) casting doubts on the restored prescript of B due to a lack of evidence for either epistatês or proposer. Nonetheless, the texts and datings of the Kallias decrees defended by MERITT and WADE-GERY were widely

Kernos, 27 | 2014 107

accepted, among others by BUNDGAARD (1976), p. 125–133, proposing that the early work on the Propylaea had been hastily completed in 434 for financial considerations due to the immanent war. With BUNDGAARD’s work, this view of the construction history of Propylaea and Nike-temple also became established in the archaeological literature; see e.g. HOLTZMANN (2003), p. 156. 39. KALLET-MARX (1989), reinforcing PRITCHETT’S views, saw traces on the stone incompatible with the restoration of the name Eupeithes as epistatês (confirmed by M.H. CHAMBERS, see SAMONS [2000], p. 128, n. 83). The separation of B from A opened a date for Kallias A in non-Panathenaeic years. KALLET also cogently argued on grounds of the financial arrangements for a temporal disjunction of Kallias A and B and for a date in 431/0 for A and 418/7 for B. SAMONS (2000), p. 215– 229 following on KALLET’S views argues that in 433/2 expenditures to do with the Kerkyraean expedition (IG I3 364) and the large debts to the gods accounted in the Epistatai decree (IG I3 32, convincingly dated by CAVANAUGH [1996], p. 19–27 to just after 433/2), both suggest a date for Kallias A in that same year, which now shows a consistent concern about sacred monies on the eve of the war. While 432 was the moment of the decision of A, its inscription in stone took place at a later date. Kallias B was decided in 422/1 and when B was inscribed, A was inscribed as well as the reverse of B, so SAMONS. RHODES (forth.) reviews the debate, preferring, however, the older date for both decrees. 40. MATTINGLY (1996), p. 470–471; WADE-GERY (1958), for the date also following MERITT and DAVIDSON (1935). Discussion of the date of IG I3 36, which is plausible but not absolutely certain, is beyond the scope of this article. 41. MARK (1993), p. 136; SCHULTZ (2001), p. 1 and n. 2. 42. MATTINGLY (1996), p. 461–471: IG I3 35 in ca. 430; MATTINGLY (2000), p. 605–606: in 425, in the same year and prytany as IG I3 71. For the ‘further decisions’ on the temple, he refers to IG I3 84 A. 17, but this must be an error. 43. Often this view is implied, for instance SCHULTZ (2001), p. 1: IG I3 36 shows that ‘the cult of Athena Nike was fully active’ — but the cult had been ‘active’ for a long time. 44. ‘(Annual) salary’: ML p. 108, MATTINGLY (2000), p. 606, SCHULTZ (2001), p. 1, LUPU (2003), p. 47, CONNELLY (2007), p. 200, TSOUKALA (2009), p. 9, BLOK (2010), p. 82, LAMBERT (2010), p. 154 etc. 45. A thês (in epic) sold his labour for a year to an employer for a fixed recompense (food, clothing, some money); Hom., Il. XXI, 445: the gods Apollo and Poseidon served Laomedon ‘like thêtes for a year at a fixed misthos’. 46. For a survey of misthoi and wages at Athens, LOOMIS (1998), p. 76–87 for perquisites of priests and other religious personnel; for the priestess of Athena Nike, LOOMIS aptly avoids ‘salary’, calling it ‘general compensation for the year’ (76 and 78 n. 7). For priestesses we also find in Athens apometra, which seem to be payments in money; see e.g. IG I3 255 B l. 10 where a priestess seems to receive 10 dr. apometra plus hides of dêmosios sacrifices. The anonymous referee of Kernos points to similarities between the arrangement of decree 35 for the priestess and the ‘priestly contract’, an epigraphic genre well attested in the Hellenistic era in various cities, although not in the classical age in Athens. The absence of such contracts in Athens makes assigning a similar character to 35 not highly attractive, but the issue is worth exploring. 47. LE GUEN-POLLET (1991); EKROTH (2008), TSOUKALA (2009). 48. Mysteries: IG I3 368.161–164; tribal priests, polis calendar SEG 52.48: fr. 3A, l. 52. 49. SEG 52.48: Athena Polias, fr. 6A l. 3; Priestess of Demeter fr. 3A l. 76. 50. A new priestess: MERITT (1941), p. 310–311 (see above, n. 19).

F0 3 51. PIRENNE-DELFORGE (2005). For a probable parallel of this use of τ 6F ν δεμοσίον, IG I 255 B, l. 17 and 21 (ca. 430?). 52. Examples abound: inauguration of the Theseia, of the cult of Asklepios, of some of the eponymous heroes. See PARKER (1996), p. 102–187; LAMBERT (2010). 53. MARK (1993), p. 75 and n. 36.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 108

54. MIKALSON (1975), p. 50: Plut., Mor., 349e in a passage recounting the polis festivals commemorating the Persian wars and other victories of the Athenians; 862a on Herodotus’ account of these events; Xen., Anab. III, 2, 12; cf. Ar., Eq., 660–662; Lys., 1248–1265. Parker (2005), p. 462. Erroneously Ael., VH II, 25: Thargelion 6 and 300 goats. Day 6 was sacred to Artemis (6 Thargelion was Artemis’ birthday: DL, II, 44; Mikalson [1975], p. 18) and 6 Boedromion was probably not the day of the battle of Marathon itself (which happened sometime in Metageitnion?) but rather of the commemorative polis festival close to it. 55. Ath.Pol., 58, 1: polemarchos. First demothoinia: PARKER (1996), p. 153; Suda, s.v.Δ η μ ό θ ο ι ν α κ α ὶ Δ η μ ο θ ο ι ν ί α : τοῦ δήμου εὐωχία, ἢ θυσία. 56. PARKER (1996), p. 153–154 and 168–170, 187, for the cultic innovations due to the Persian wars; on the role of the Phytalidai, BLOK (2009a), p. 265; LAMBERT (2010), p. 149 and n. 41. 57. Fragments of sacrifices in Thargelion are preserved on the sacrificial calendar (SEG LII 48 A fr. 3, 1–15) but according to editor S.D. LAMBERT (2002), they belong to a biennial sequence. The new fragment SEG LII 48 fr. 5 also contains sacrifices perhaps belonging to Thargelion (GAWLINSKI [2007], p. 46–7) but too much of this is insecure. Moreover, no reference to a sacrifice to Athena Nike is extant on these fragments. 58. I hope that the difference between this arrangement and a salary over the year is clear; the 50 drachmas would not, for instance, cover her other duties, such as tending the temple, and they certainly were not meant to pay for the sacrificial animals. 59. MARK (1993), p. 135 also connects the payment to the priestess of Athena Nike in Thargelion to Spring and warfare, but supposes that the decree meant to dissociate the festival calendar of Nike from that of Athena Polias, a speculation for which there is neither evidence nor reason. 60. Thargelion is close to the ninth prytany, when at least in the fourth century the rents from sacred leases were received. PAPAZARKADAS (2011), passim and esp. 191–195 shows clearly the connection between incoming rents from sacred properties and meeting the cultic obligations of the dêmos. The sacrifices for Nike, however, were dêmosios, i.e. paid by the dêmos, not by the goddess herself. 61. JAMESON (1994), p. 317; on the particular quality of sphage as ritual, also PARKER (2011), p. 155– 165. 62. VAN WEES (2004), p. 121. 63. JAMESON (1994), p. 318. 64. The identity of the Ilissos-temple as that of Artemis Agrotera (Paus., I, 19, 6) is not epigraphically attested, but highly likely. On this temple and its connection to the Nike-temple and of both to the Persian wars, PARKER (1996), p. 153. 65. For the rubric ‘unspecified day’, LAMBERT (2002), p. 356–357 and n. 22; Hesych., s.v. ῥητην· τὴν ὡρισμένην ἡμέραν τοῖς θεοῖς εἰς θυσίαν σημαίναι; DE COURSEY (1959). The reference to the sacrifice is SEG 52, 48 F1A 23–5. After ‘for Athena’ the stone shows a vacat, suggesting no epithet at all, but on F 3 A 12–13 [Ἐργάν]ηι οἶς and [Ἀθηνά?]αι πρὸς are written on two lines. 66. IG I3 68 (dated in IG to 426/5) concerns measures to collect the arrear payments of the phoros to Athens. The two decrees (beginning l. 3 and l. 30) with their riders both belonged to the prytany of Kekropis, and apparently were inscribed together at the very end of the last assembly meeting of this term. The final text of both is drafted in a far more elaborate style than IG I3 35, and without archon years but with otherwise complete prescripts. It matches the pattern of the mid-420s, whereas on these grounds IG I3 35 makes the impression of an earlier date. 67. OSBORNE (2010), p. 67. 68. For the varied financial duties of the kolakretai (paying for stelai, for meals in the prytaneion, etc.) IG I3 7, 11, 23, 71, 73, 75 etc. and SAMONS (2000), p. 57–59, with further bibl. 69. IG I3 383, l. 143; 429/8, account of the tamiai of the Other Gods; IG I3 369, l. 68 (426/5), account of the logistai.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 109

70. For the problem PARKER (1996), p. 126–127, n. 20; LAMBERT (2010), p. 155–156. LOUGOVAYA-AST (2006)’s argument for life tenure on the now contestable early date of decree 35 combined with MARK’S two step construction of the temple taken to be reflected in the wording of the epigram for Myrrhine, is not convincing. 71. BLOK (2009); LAMBERT (2010). 72. FGrH 4 F 79b (ap. DH, AR Ι, 22: ὡς μὲν Ἑλλάνικος ὁ Λέσβιός φησι, τρίτῃ γενεᾷ πρότερον τῶν Τρωικῶν Ἀλκυόνης ἱερωμένης ἐν Ἄργει κατὰ τὸ ἕκτον καὶ εἰκοστὸν ἔτος); on Hellanicus’ Hiereiai, Möller (2001). Cf. Thuc., IV, 133: in 423, the priestess Chrysis by accident set fire to the temple of Hera; when this happened, she had been in office the eight and a half years of the war, in total for over 56 years. Apparently, annual counting took place within the life tenure of the priestess. 73. BLOK (2009b); LAMBERT (2010), p. 153–161 shows that after Perikles’ Law priesthoods for new polis cults were all established on this model of selection from all. 74. Plut., Mor., 405c-d; Eur., Ion, 1322–1323: Φοίβου προφῆτις, τρίποδος ἀρχαῖον νόμον/ σῴζουσα, πασῶν Δελφίδων ἐξαίρετος. ‘Prophetess of Phoebus, preserving the ancient law of the tripod, selected from all Delphic women’. For αἵρεω / α??????? meaning ?to select? reἵρεσθαι meaning ‘to select’ regardless of the means used, ABEL (1983), p. 18–19. For life: Aesch., Eum., 38; FD III 1: 553, Roman era; Diod. Sic., XVI, 26, 6; Plut., Mor., 405c-d, implies that selection was unpredictable, i.e. by lot. 75. PARKER (1996), p. 126–127; LAMBERT (2010), p. 156–157. Male priesthoods of this kind, notably that of Asklepios in the fourth century and later, were filled by rotation among the phylai. For these developments, LAMBERT (2010), p. 155–161. 76. IG II2 659, cf. SEG 45, 105, l. 1–2: ἐπὶ ἱερείας Ἡγησιπύλης / ἐ??π’ Εὐθίου ἄρχοντος. Annual tenure: PARKER (2005), p. 461; according to LAMBERT (2010), p. 158 the reference to priestly office might indicate annual office when it is juxtaposed with epi + archon , e.g. with the annual priesthood of Asklepios at II2 354.2: [θε]οί. [ἐπ’ Εὐθυκρίτου ἄρ]χοντος, ἱερείως δὲ Ἀνδρο/ [κλέους ἐκ Κεραμ]έων. But whether this example of a male priesthood and a decree beginning with the archon, followed by the priest, is also valid for the case of the priestess Hegesipyle, where the decree begins with the priestess followed by the archon, begs the question. 77. For instance IG II2 3173 (Megiste); 3470 (Penteteris), 3472 (Theodote), 3477 (Habryllis). 78. SOURVINOU-INWOOD (1995). This pattern concerns not only priest (esse)s, but also other cult personnel; some female cult personnel is known to have served for many years, GEORGOUDI (2005); for Syeris, the old diakonos of priestess Lysimache (IG II2 3464), KEESLING (2012).

ABSTRACTS

This article proposes that decree IG I 3 35 appointing a priestess for Athena Nike and commissioning a new temple and altar followed on a preceding decree inaugurating dêmotelês sacrifices for the goddess, to be made after victorious battles. This decree ‘pre-35’ was inscribed on the stone that once topped the present, extant stele. The priestess could enter her duties once the decision was made; she did not need the finished temple to do so. IG I 3 36 fixed a regular moment for her to be paid for performing the sacrifices throughout the year. A lifetime tenure of the priestess is more likely than one on an annual basis. A date of decree IG I 3 35 after 448 and before 437 or the mid- 430s is the most plausible, but the early 420s cannot be ruled out.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 110

Le décret IG I3 35 met en place une prêtresse pour Athéna Nikè et programme la construction d’un nouveau temple et d’un autel. L’article propose qu’il fasse suite à un décret antérieur inaugurant des sacrifices dêmotelês pour la déesse, accomplis après des victoires militaires. Ce décret « pré-35 » était inscrit sur la pierre qui surmontait la stèle conservée. La prêtresse pouvait entrer en charge dès que la décision avait été prise : elle ne devait pas attendre, pour ce faire, que le temple soit achevé. IG I 3 36 fixait la périodicité du paiement qui lui était réservé pour l’accomplissement des sacrifices tout au long de l’année. Un engagement viager de la prêtresse est plus vraisemblable qu’une charge annuelle. La date la plus plausible pour le décret IG I3 35 se situe après 448 et avant 437, ou au milieu des années 430. Toutefois, le début des années 420 ne peut être exclu.

AUTHOR

JOSINE BLOK [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 111

Endowed Eponymous Festivals on Delos

Joshua D. Sosin

In 302 BC, Stesileos son of Diodotos, a prominent Delian, endowed 1500 drachmas to fund annual dedication of a phiale, to Aphrodite.1 He was an early adopter of what would become a popular economic and religious gesture on the sacred island. Over much of the next century Delos saw the creation of more than two dozen such endowments,2 which underwrote, scholars agree, festivals, nearly all of them eponymous: The Antigoneia, Eutycheia, Philonideia, Ptolemaieia, Stesileia, etc. This is the highest known concentration of both endowments and eponymous festivals from any single Hellenistic city.3 The Delian practice seems to illustrate a pattern of self- aggrandizement, by both royalty and non-, of such scale, pace, and intensity that it is striking even by ancient standards of humility. It has not been observed, however, that Delian epigraphy does not refer unambiguously to these ritual acts as named festivals. Apart from a very few exceptions discussed below, we do not find proclamations “at The Stesileia,”4 expenditure on items used “at The Ptolemaieia,”5 services rendered “for The Philonideia,”6 individuals officiating “The Eutycheia,”7 sale of hides from animals sacrificed at “The Antigoneia,”8 or the like. The reason, I urge, is that the eponymous festivals thought to have been sustained by these endowments did not exist as such. Ritual clearly did, and it was underwritten by endowments. A person dedicated money, which was lent at interest of ten percent9 and the returns used each year to dedicate a phiale or similar object and/or to conduct other ritual. Decrees honoring founders or enabling their endowments, such as we find elsewhere,10 are unattested on Delos. Instead, we find inventories of dedications,11 records of lending and collection, 12 disbursement of funds to ritual administrators,13 even arrangement of some endowed funds under common financial administration.14 Founders were Delians and aliens, men and women,15 and Hellenistic royalty. The last have drawn most attention from scholars, but the practice was home-grown. The first attested endowment was established by a Delian, Mikythos, perhaps around 310 BC.16

Kernos, 27 | 2014 112

Stesileos’ came next. Hellenistic royalty, and at least one high ranking adjutant, joined later; the first Ptolemaic endowment was established in 280.17 And for about two generations thereafter a roughly equal mix of royalty and non followed suit. Some fifty years after Stesileos’ dedication, his daughter Echenike established an endowment.18 Perhaps around 240 BC, another wealthy and pious Delian woman, Philonis, created another,19 as did Nesiades and Gorgias, shortly after. 20 About the other non-royal founders we are generally ignorant: for example, the Sopatros who established an endowment of an unknown size perhaps in 229, is only a name.21 Of known aliens, an Aitolian, Nikolaos, established an endowment in 252;22 likewise Eutychos of Chios, long conjectured to have been a banker or financier, about twenty years later.23 We know little of founders’ motivations. But of the non-royal founders, Stesileos and his family do seem to fit a recognizable profile. He was archon in 305, choregos in 284 and 280;24 his son Diodotos served as ambassador, hieropoios, prodaneistes, and lampadarch in the 280s;25 in 250 his daughter Echenike endowed sacrifice to Apollo and Aphrodite (above n. 18). He was not only politically engaged, but pious as well, and his piety extended beyond the endowment. By 304, he had dedicated not only a statue of Aphrodite,26 but also, it is thought, the sanctuary and small temple in which she resided.27 This stood at the northern edge of the theater quarter,28 its entry apparently flanked by statues of his parents.29 A third statue was dedicated there by his daughter Echenike.30 Several dedications from the period of independence are from members of Stesileos’ family.31 The place “was saturated with the presence of Stesileos, in the form of his pious dedication, and the aged parents he chose to honour out of the fortune they had passed on to him.”32 Thus, the entire sanctuary is thought to be private, a family affair, much like the nearby, and later, Sarapeion A.33 Durvye has suggested that Stesileos’ actions blended piety and more secular aspirations, by providing a gathering space for a “political group” and reaffirming the status and power of his prominent family.34 Here, in other words, are the actions of a well known type, an elite benefactor, 35 for whom piety, philanthropy, politics, and the enhancement of personal and familial status are authentic and overlapping concerns. This is not a controversial idea;36 endowments, like most such benefactions, are generally thought to have projected founders’ power to local audiences. An annual eponymous festival sent a clear message, demanded recognition, affirmed the prestige of founders and families. Establishing a private sanctuary at the same time only underlined this message. As gestures of political self-representation, therefore, the royal and non-royal endowments look alike. The former have long and often been thought to celebrate and advertise major military victories in the Aegean theater;37 to manifest “religious policies” that were “part of an effort to consolidate … close relations”38 with subject cities; to be an act of “pious self- advertising investment;”39 to have been established “for the sole purpose of glorifying the new powers of the time, who craved the international recognition and prestige these gatherings could bring.”40 Thus, the royal and non-royal endowments are thought to have aimed at the same effect. But these endowments were too small to have garnered much international prestige. We know or can infer the capitalization of ten endowments (I.Delos 366.A.131–134); the smallest was 1500 drachmas, the largest 8700, and most between 3000 and 4000. Stesileos’ fund, the smallest of the lot, earned but 150 drachmas per year, enough to acquire a phiale and little or nothing else. The annual return of Philonis’ endowment, the largest attested and more than twice the size of most, was roughly equivalent to expenditure on wine alone for the annual festival at the Carian village of Kypranda (by

Kernos, 27 | 2014 113

Kaunos).41 A royal endowment that earned a few hundred drachmas and spent more than 100 of them on a phiale, could not buy much religion with the balance. The endowments underwrote ritual celebrations to be sure, but nothing like a festival befitting the honor of a king.42 These ‘festivals’ were meant to be witnessed primarily by the gods. Their modest scale did not conduce to ostentatious, political machination and propaganda.43 Their size, then, sets them apart from the eponymous festivals of the Hellenistic world that we know so well. And yet their names, The Stesileia, Eutycheia, Ptolemaieia, etc., do call to mind the small but well known number of eponymous endowed festivals from elsewhere in the Hellenistic world:44 The Leonideia at Pharsalos, Koan Pythokleia, Delphic Alkesippeia and Attaleia and Eumeneia.45 These eponymous festivals were not “the cult of So-and-so” (objective genitive) but “So-and-so’s cult” for some deity, ritual offered to gods by a polity in the name of the men who provided the resources to fund it. The adjectival ending denoted a ritual’s originator and funder rather than its object or recipient. Of course, the latter sense was also, and more typically, conveyed by the same: e.g. the Magnesian Leukophryeneia or Alexandrian Ptolemaia. These were two distinct kinds of eponymity, indicated by the same type of adjective. Such ambiguity was tolerable, understandable, and probably a natural development of the growth in private financing of public religion; Delphians will have had little difficulty remembering that the Alkesippeia was cult established, paid, and named for Alkesippos rather than cult offered to Alkesippos. On Delos, however, the adjective was also used in a different way. The earliest of the endowments was established, around the time of independence, by Mikythos. Dedications offered via his fund were inventoried as kylikes mikytheioi, skaphia mikytheia, or plain mikytheia.46 Likewise, dedications funded by Stesileos’ endowment were called poteria stesileia,47 and officials called that fund the stesileion.48 A stesileion, then, was the fund that paid for offerings and an offering that was paid for by the fund. The hieropoioi did not record a loan of money that Echenike donated “for The Echenikeia” or some such, but rather “for a sacrifice to Apollo and Aphrodite.”49 Her fund was itself referred to as “the echenikeion.”50 Likewise, the gorgieion paid for phialai gorgieioi;51 the “money that Nesiades dedicated” was the nesiadeion;52 Philonis’ endowment was called the philonideion53 and underwrote some form of ritual, including annual dedication of an object also called simply a philonideion, or else a skaphion philonideion, or poterion philonideion.54 When the same Philonis dedicated a thymiaterion, by a separate initiative, it was recorded as a “dedication of Philonis,” not as a philonideion: it came directly from her, not from her eponymous fund.55 Objects dedicated via an endowed fund might be said to come from the founder,56 which does not mean that objects dedicated directly by an individual would be said to have come from his or her endowment. Thus, just as The Alkesippeia was ritual funded by Alkesippos, stesileia were dedications funded by the stesileion, which was endowed by Stesileos. This nomenclature is well known,57 but its importance under-appreciated. Scholars have referred to, say, “The Echenikeia” for good reason. In 207 BC the hieropoioi recorded several disbursements to epistatai for what appear to be eponymous festivals so named (I.Delos 366.A.131–134): ἐδώκαμεν δὲ καὶ τοῖς ἐπιστάταις εἰς τὰς θυσίας ἐν τοῖς καθήκουσι χρόνοις· Κοσμιάδει εἰς Φιλαδέ[λφ]εια ΗΗΗΔΔΔ· Ἀριστοπάππωι Φιλίου εἰς Εὐτύχεια ΗΗΗ· Ἀντιγόνωι Χαριστίου εἰς Φιλεταίρεια ΗΗΗΗ· Ἀριστοπάππωι Τέλλιος εἰς Χερσον[ήσ]ια ΗΗΗΗ· Τιμοσθέν̣ε̣ι̣ Τ̣ι̣μο[σθένου?]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 114

εἰς Γοργίεια {ι} ΗΔΔ· Τελεσαρχίδηι Ἐλπίνου εἰς Φιλόκλεια Η· Ὀστάκ[ω]ι Ὀστάκου εἰς Στησίλεια Η· Δεξιθέωι Δε[ξ]ιθέου εἰς Ἐ[χενί]- κεια ΗΗΗ· Ἑβδομίσκωι Ἀρίστιος εἰς Φιλωνίδεια ΗΗΗΔΔ· Θεοφραστίδε[ι] Φιλλάκου εἰς Νησιάδεια ΗΗΗ. This seems to refer unambiguously to eponymous festivals. But no one appears to have observed that if we were to ‘de-capitalize’ (e.g. εἰς Γοργίεια → εἰς γοργίεια) the text would make no less sense. Whatever the gorgieion paid for, whether a phiale or a victim, was called a gorgieion; disbursements for such were “for gorgieia,” εἰς γοργίεια. The stesileion yielded 150 drachmas per year, which went “for stesileia” and purchased one phiale; the echenikeion yielded 300 drachmas, which went “for echenikeia,” which in this case were not phialai but some other rites (sacrifice, libations, vel sim.). All of these fell under the broad rubric thysiai, not solely the sacrifice of victims (Stesileos’ endowment did not fund such), but rather, rites, ceremony, offerings in a broad sense. So, there was ritual; there was celebration; there was dedication. But nothing in this passage requires the existence of endowed eponymous festivals per se. A common expression found elsewhere in the hieropoioi accounts seems to record phialai coming “from (celebrations) of the Stratonikeia” or the like, e.g. I.Delos 366.A.53– 55: καὶ φιάλας· ἐπὶ Σωτίωνος Πτολεμαι|είων· ἄλλην Πτολεμαιείων, Στρατονικείων, Νικολαείων, Ἀτταλείων, Ἀντιγονείων, Δονακείων· ἄλλην Ἀντιγονείων· | ἐπ’ Ἀπολλοδώρου Μαψιχιδῶν· ἐπὶ Τλησιμένου Σωπατρείων· ἐπὶ Σωτίωνος Φιλεταιρείων· ἐπὶ Φίλωνος Δημητριείων. But for officials responsible for tracking hundreds of these objects, a somewhat different construction would be understandable. Since each individual dedication was known as, say, ‘a ptolemaieion’ and the vast stores of them could be referred to collectively as ‘ptolemaieia,’ these might well be reckoned, “another of the ptolemaieia, and of the stratonikeia,” etc. Such a construction suits grammar and is also in keeping with ancient religious sensibility: to both god and polity an object’s dedicator (say, Nikolaos) was a more important piece of information, and was more often inscribed, than the occasion of its dedication (say, the Nikolaeia). Since a nikolaeion was an object dedicated by Nikolaos via his endowment, to record ἄλλην νικολαείων was simply to indicate another of the dedications that Nikolaos made via his eponymous fund. Thus, here too, the Greek need not refer to a festival, and it makes better ritual sense if it refers to a dedicator. Elsewhere, the inventories are explicit about this. Endowment phialai are often recorded alongside phialai that were dedicated by the Delian trittyes, the Mapsichidai, and the Thyestadai and Okyneidai, e.g. I.Delos 366.84–85 (207): ἄλλην Π[τολεμ]αιείων· ἐπὶ Χαρίλα Δημητριείων· ἐπὶ Ξενομήδου Μαψιχιδῶν· ἐπὶ Πολύβου Θυεσταδῶν | καὶ Ὠκυνειδῶν· ἐπὶ Τλη[σιμ]ένου Στρατονικείων. The latter were regular, though not endowed, dedications.58 The trittyes were agents, dedicators, and not occasions; the genitives indicate that the dedications were theirs, in the strict sense of having been offered by them. In this formula both Θυεσταδῶν καὶ Ὠκυνειδῶν and Στρατονικείων indicate dedicator and neither refers to occasion. Like the genitive, the adjectival ending in – eion also tells of dedication, in this case indirect, by the person for whom an endowment is named. This was the compressed language of accounting. But elsewhere, the inscriptions show the equivalence more explicitly, deploying the same boilerplate to record “other phialai which the Thyestadai and Okyneidai dedicated” and “other phialai which the Deliades dedicated, King Ptolemy having contributed the choreia.”59 These are merely the verbose expressions of that other formula, ἐπὶ τοῦ δεῖνος

Kernos, 27 | 2014 115

Πτολεμαιείων and ἐπὶ τοῦ δεῖνος Θυεσταδῶν καὶ Ὠκυνειδῶν, which indicated an object dedicated by Ptolemy via the ptolemaieion and an object dedicated, without such intermediation, by the Thyestadai and Okyneidai. The same logic underpins both formulas and shows that the Delian accounts recorded the dedicator and not the occasion. There was no dedication of a “phiale from The Ptolemaieia.” There were no endowed eponymous Ptolemaieia;60 there was an endowment to pay for regular ritual that included dedication of ptolemaieia, a different thing. There were eponymous funds (e.g. stesileion, gorgieion, etc.), which endowed offerings that were referred to by the same convention (collectively, stesileia, gorgieia, etc.). These were regular, simple, and modest offerings that accompanied a ritual performance of the Deliades. This endowed ritual at Delos was not like the Delphic Alkesippeia or Pharsalian Leonideia or even the Delphic Attaleia and Eumeneia. The Delian gesture was smaller, humbler, less ostentatious than the grand eponymous festivals of the Hellenistic world. Founders gave names to their dedications, which was normal religion, and to the endowments that paid for those dedications, which was expedient administration. But the Greek does not indicate that Delians attended festivals called ‘The Stesileia’ or the like. Endowed ritual with funds and dedications named for the founders, yes; endowed festivals named for their founders, no. Thus, in scale, sensibility, and terminology, the Delian ritual looks more like the modest endowed family cult that we know so well from the Hellenistic period.61 Even the more ambitious endowed family associations did not sustain large public festivals. Diomedon’s testamentary endowment at Kos supported family gatherings after his death and carefully regulated family members’ use of the endowed sacred precinct for weddings.62 Epikteta’s testamentary endowment on Thera offered similar support and also reserved the precinct for family weddings.63 Poseidonios of Halikarnassos endowed a field, with courtyard, garden, and memorial to support annual cult by his assembled family members. And while he did stipulate that on the first day of the annual celebration the agathos daimon of himself and of his wife Gorgis should receive a ram, there was no eponymous festival and the first order of business was to be a sacrifice to the agathe tyche of his presumably deceased parents. 64 When Kritolaos of Amorgos endowed games on the death of his son Aleximachos, the ritual was modest and restricted to the gymnasium-going elite; the endowment itself yielded only 200 drachmas per year.65 Most such endowments recognized the familial disruption of death with modest ritual; some supported familial growth through unions. By and large they did not do so with festivals named for the founders themselves.66 If the Delian endowments were a local manifestation of this wider phenomenon, then we might expect them to have been established to mark similar moments in their founders’ lives. Unfortunately, as rich as Delian prosopographic data are, we lack the information to reconstruct detailed family histories. In the case of the royal endowments, however, we are better informed. Now, in no instance is the purpose or occasion of an endowment’s founding stated. But some cases admit of reasonable speculation. The hieropoioi started recording phialai contributed by Philetairos in 262 BC,67 meaning that the endowment was established in 263, the year of Philetairos’ death. Some have thought that Philetairos established the endowment himself,68 in support of a festival named for himself, in honor of himself. But several royal endowments were founded in or around the year of their eponym’s death, so that it is simpler to conclude, as some have, that Eumenes I established the fund upon his uncle’s

Kernos, 27 | 2014 116

death and his own succession to the Attalid throne.69 If so, then the eponym was not self but family member, the act not self-promotion but right piety, consistent with Eumenes’ apparent dedication of a statue of Philetairos at about the same time.70 If so, then this was a minor departure from Delian practice, inasmuch as the formal dedicator was held to be not the endowment’s founder, but the individual on whose behalf and under whose name someone else established the fund. Eumenes gave the money that allowed Philetairos to contribute phialai postumously. But if these funds were established on the occasion of important family events, as I have suggested, then this endowment remained otherwise true to convention, inasmuch as it was founded in pious response to Philetairos’ death. Similarly, in 246, the third of the Ptolemaic endowments was established.71 This was the year in which Philadelphos died and Euergetes ascended to the throne. Some have viewed this as somehow announcing or enforcing Euergetes’ legitimacy.72 But any such measures are likely to have been carried out on the home front and at scale, not on Delos with a modest rite, whose perpetuation by endowment entailed a year’s delay before first offering. As pious observance of a family member’s death, on the other hand, the gesture is understandable. There may be a pattern. The first stratonikeion was dedicated in 252, its endowment having been created in the previous year.73 The fund was named for the daughter of Demetrios Poliorketes, sister of Antigonos Gonatas,74 wife of first Seleukos Nikator and then his son Antiochos.75 It has been suggested that the endowment was established to celebrate Antigonos’ naval victory off Kos — which may have taken place in 255, or even earlier;76 in either case the delay is unexplained and should raise doubts. Whatever the date, though, a major naval victory seems a bizarre occasion for Antigonos, if he was the author of the endowments, to have honored his sister, especially with a modest ritual that few would ever see. On the other hand, if Stratonike died in 254, as has been suggested and often accepted as plausible, though never proved,77 the subsequent creation of the endowment to produce dedications offered “on her behalf”78 would have been an intelligible show of piety and a reasonable religious response to her death. In that same year Antigonos is thought to have established an eponymous endowment in honor, the assumption goes, of himself and in celebration of his earlier naval victory off Kos. But scholars agree that Antigonos’ son Demetrios II married Stratonike, the daughter of Antiochos I, in the mid 250s; Tarn’s conjecture that the marriage took place in 253 has found followers if not proof.79 Demetrios’ marriage may well have been worth celebrating. No one could have known at the time that the union would end unhappily.80 Demetrios’ father Antigonos Gonatas had also married a Seleucid princess. 81 Now, another such alliance opened the door to future succession. I suggest, then, that the two Antigonid endowments may have been created not in celebration of a military success, not to advertise imperial might, but rather to acknowledge two religiously charged domestic and dynastic moments, one severing a tie to the Seleucids and another forging a new one; these may have taken place in 254 and/or 253, but in any case quite close to each other, and just before the endowments were established on Delos. Antigonos was in his sixties. He had a son and heir in Demetrios II and, with his son’s new well-placed marriage to Stratonike, Antigonos had done what he could to secure the family’s next generation. At this critical moment, I suggest, Antigonos established a pair of endowments, the one observing the death of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 117

his sister Stratonike with annual dedication of stratonikeia, the other celebrating the marriage of his son Demetrios II with antigoneia, named perhaps for the founder himself, Gonatas, but perhaps instead for his homonymous forebear. As commemoration of a major military success such a modest affair — not to mention its eponymity after a woman — would have been laughable, ill-befitting the grandeur of the king and occasion, beneath the honor and thanks owed to the gods. As family ritual, however, such a gesture would have been understandable, respectable, appropriate. An endowment named for a Demetrios appears to have been founded in 238,82the year after Demetrios II succeeded his father Antigonos Gonatas. It might be tempting to suppose that the demetrieia dedicated via this endowment were regarded as having been dedicated by Demetrios II himself. But if Antigonos, only a few years before, had established an endowment in the name of his own grandfather, as I have suggested, then it could have been reasonable for Demetrios II to have done the same.83 It is at least possible, I suggest, that the antigoneion and demetrieion were established by Antigonos Gonatas and Demetrios II, not in their own names but rather in those of their forebears Monophthalmos and Poliorketes — not that subsequent generations of Delians need have known the difference, or cared.84 We might find a similar explanation for the occasion of the founding of the second Ptolemaic endowment in 249.85 Tarn saw its creation as a kind of bold political statement by Ptolemy, who he thought in that year had regained control of the Aegean from Antigonos.86 Reger is more cautious: “Since … there is no apparent non-military event (a royal accession, death, marriage, etc.) with which to associate the Ptolemaieia [II] in 249 B.C., it may well be that the festival celebrated the recovery of the islands, and perhaps even a military victory. But this matter remains very obscure.”87 Champion seems to suggest commemoration of military victory: the second and third “Ptolemaieia festivals … were established on Delos in 249 and 246, following a Ptolemaic naval victory over Gonatas, sometime around 250.”88 Again, one doubts the efficacy of this ritual as propaganda and wonders, instead, whether the occasion was the betrothal of Ptolemy (III) Euergetes to Berenike (II), upon the death of her father Magas, king of Cyrene, which may have taken place in 250.89 The union was significant, if not lasting. With the religiously charged moments of death and marriage looming so large as possible occasions for the creation of these modest royal endowments, the origins of two others may find explanation. In 268 BC90 Hermias the Ptolemaic nesiarch91 endowed an offering to Arsinoe Philadelphos, Apollo, Artemis, and Leto.92 A recent survey of the debate over the date of Arsinoe’s death, concludes that early July 268 is more likely (than 270) and most favored.93 It appears, however, that no one has found it significant that Hermias established this endowment in 268. Arsinoe was a favorite of men connected with the high seas,94 evident perhaps in her special association with Aphrodite Euploia.95 It would have been an understandable gesture of piety if this captain established an endowment in the name and honor of Arsinoe, following her death. The coincidence does not prove that Arsinoe died in 268, but it is suggestive. If the occasion was her death, it would not be the last time such moments were observed and commemorated with endowed ritual on Delos. And in any case, Hermias’ endowment looks more like an expression of personal piety than an articulation of Ptolemaic policy. The occasion of the earliest attested royal endowment on Delos is problematic. Apparently in 280 BC the first Ptolemaic endowment was established. It is generally

Kernos, 27 | 2014 118

thought to have been created by Philadelphos, who was in this period active in honoring his father,96 not that we can point to a specific occasion. But in 281 Lysimachos, the husband of Ptolemy’s sister Arsinoe (II), had fallen at Koroupedion. Not long after, Arsinoe married her half-brother Ptolemy Keraunos, a union inaugurated by the murder of her children and soon ended by his own death in 279.97 Arsinoe fled to Egypt, stopping first at Samothrace.98 We do not know her route, or the timing. But on one suggestion, she journeyed under escort of the Ptolemaic nauarch Kallikrates.99 He was at the time no stranger to Delos. In 279 the hieropoioi declared that they had received from their predecessors two gold crowns dedicated by him.100 These must have been offered in 280 or earlier.101 For Arsinoe, looking homeward in 279,102 a survivor of two disastrous dynastic unions, perhaps accompanied by the distinguished Ptolemaic naval officer, Delos may have have been a welcome way station. But, if she landed in 279 how can she have founded the endowment in 280? In 274 BC the hieropoioi could count six phialai dedicated by Ptolemy, covering 275, 274 and four other unspecified years.103 Similarly, in 240 BC the hieropoioi recorded receipt of 39 phialai, most dated by archon, several by epistates, and one with no indication of date, “bearing neither archon nor epistates.”104 Both measures put the first year of dedication at 279 BC, and so the date of endowment in 280. But the blank phiale is worrisome. Durrbach suggested long ago, and Bruneau and others admit the possibility, that the endowment could have been established in 279 and its first phiale paid for separately, promptly,105 in other words, in cash, up front, and not out of interest accrued. This is a reasonable proposition; what would the founder do who was in a hurry, wanted to get started right away but the timing of whose dedication did not square with a 12-month lending period? The creation of the first ptolemaieion in 279 by Arsinoe and/or Kallikrates just might be possible, provided that it was paid for separately. And if that were the case a dedicated phiale might not bear an inscribed indication of date. Perhaps the undated phiale was offered in haste, by a queen on the move, as the very first dedication of the new endowment. Keraunos was dead and likely claimed no honor from Arsinoe. But her children had been slain only shortly before, by his hand, we are told, and in her very arms.106 Commemoration and retrospection were perhaps in order and on her mind, as I have suggested it was in the later endowments established on the occasions of royal deaths. And perhaps also a taste of the optimism that will have attended the endowments created on the occasion of royal unions. Now, Ptolemy and Arsinoe were not yet wed,107 and there is no evidence that either yet had the sibling union in mind. And while hindsight tells us that Arsinoe’s homecoming proved important to the Ptolemaic dynasty,108 she will not have known as we do. But if Arsinoe stopped on Delos in 279, on the run — much as Leto had been when she arrived at Delos — and with no salvation but the royal family into which she was born and to whom she was returning, the creation of a modest endowed ritual named for the dynasty’s progenitor, whose Alexandrian Ptolemaia were now either on the horizon or in recent memory, 109 would have had obvious emotional and religious appeal. If the commemorative and celebratory logic of the later endowments applied here as well, then such a gesture would have made good pious sense. Even if the suggestion that Arsinoe may have established the first Ptolemaic endowment is not accepted, nothing about the endowment suggests grand celebration of military achievements or the like.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 119

Of the royal endowments whose dates of creation are clearly known, two have been the object of considerable scholarly attention, the Antigonid endowments that yielded dedications to Pan and the TheoiSoteres, both understood to support festivals, The Paneia and Soteria, both established in 245.110 The pair has long been thought to commemorate an Antigonid naval victory over Ptolemy at Andros.111 Champion has recently revived a suggestion of Will’s that the festivals commemorated Antigonos’ defeat of the Galatians at Lysimacheia a generation before, and were established in order to ‘answer’ the newly panhellenic Aetolian Soteria, to remind the world that he too had bested Galatians, and first.112 But, again, the audience and scale of the Delian ritual was small and cannot have reminded very many of very much. We may have another explanation to hand, for 245 was very likely the year in which Antigonos Gonatas secured Corinth by marrying his son Demetrios II to Nikaia, daughter of Alexander of Corinth. The ancient tradition characterized the union as a sham, part of an elaborate ruse, and either initiated but abandoned mid-ceremony, or else enacted but not consummated; “Although it is unlikely that the Antigonids ever intended the marriage to last, their offer of marriage must have seemed plausible to Nicaea.”113 However we imagine Antigonid intentions and whatever may have happened, or not, at the ceremony or afterward, all we know is that Antigonos held Corinth until 243 and that we hear nothing more of Demetrios’ wife. The silence is little surprise; sources for the episode, and the period, are hardly thick on the ground. If such unions had a history of pious recognition on Delos, then perhaps this one was the occasion of the endowment, and we are here reminded that not every devious stratagem recorded in Polyainos or Plutarch was true and that ulterior motives did not necessarily bar unions of convenience from pious recognition and ritual. Of all of the Delian endowments, these two seem most atypical, most like — in nomenclature anyway — festivals named for the deities who received the cult. But here again, the Delian accounts do not refer unambiguously to The Paneia or The Soteria. We find references to phialai bearing the inscription, “βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος βασιλέως Δημητρίου Μακεδὼν Πανί,” or to “φιάλαι ἃς ἀνέθηκεν βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος Πανί,”114 or to “another of the paneia.”115 These dedications, then, were described much as Hermias’ dedications to Arsinoe Philadelphos were; his endowment underwrote dedication of philadelpheia to a favorite goddess and Antigonos’ paneia to a favorite god. Only two passages seem to refer explicitly to The Paneia (I.Delos 372.B.21): φιάλη, ἐπὶ Καλλία, βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος βασιλέως Δημητρίου Μακεδὼν Πάν[εια, ἐπ]ιστάτου Ἐμπέδου.116 But what is the syntax of the restored and grammatically dangling Πάν[εια? The formula is jarring too. The same account records several other phialai dedicated via endowment, mentioning the divine recipient of the dedication, but not a festal occasion (I.Delos 372.B.19–21): πο]τήρια ΙΙ, ἐ[πὶ] Ἄμνου, Στησίλεως Διοδότου Ἀπόλλωνι [Ἀφρο]| δίτηι, ἐπιστάτου Πολυξένου· [φιάλη], ἐπ’ Ἀριστοβούλου, Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα ἐπιδούσης βασιλίσσης Στρατο[νίκ]ης, ἐπιστάτου Διοδότου, Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι | Λητοῖ. On that model, it might be better to restore (I.Delos 372.B.21): φιάλη, ἐπὶ Καλλία, βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος βασιλέως Δημητρίου Μακεδὼν Πάν[ι, ἐπ]ιστάτου Ἐμπέδου,117 or perhaps even πάν[ειος, on the model of what we find at I.Delos 442.B.66: φιάλαι ΙΙ, ἱεροποιῶν Ὀρθοκλέους καὶ Πολυβούλου, εὐτύχειος, φιλαδέλφειος, ὁλ. ΗΗ. Anyway, the passage speaks only of a dedication to Pan and not of a festival named for him or anyone else. The dedications to the Theoi Soteres are similarly problematic. Two accounts refer to phialai dedicated by Antigonos to these gods, but in both cases the receiving deities are

Kernos, 27 | 2014 120

entirely restored.118 No other entry refers to his dedication of a phiale to them. At I.Delos 320.B.32 we find a run of ἄλλαι φιάλαι, ἐ[πι]δόντος Ἀντιγόνου βασιλέως σωτήρια ἐπ’ ἀ[ρχό]ντων Ξε[νοκράτου. Here, σωτήρια can only be the direct object of ἐ[πι]δόντος (as χορεῖα typically is), or else a nominative standing in apposition to φιάλαι, which seems rather less likely. Most endowments funded song, dance, and a modest dedication; this one apparently funded dedications that were sometimes referred to as thank-offerings, soteria. The same text refers (61) to [ἄλ]λη Ἀντιγονείων Σωτήρια, ἐπιστα[τοῦντος — – –. Under the prevailing interpretation this is unintelligible. Is this one festival or two? If two, then under what grammar does the Antigoneia appear in the genitive and the Soteria in the nominative or accusative? As given, the text is nonsense, does not construe. Instead, I urge, we have here a record of “another (phiale) of the antigoneia, a thank-offering,” in other words: [ἄλ]λη ἀντιγονείων σωτηρία.119 There is but one other entry thought to refer to The Soteria (I.Delos 380.72–93 [198?]):120 φιάλη, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Πανταίνου, βασι]λέως Ἀντιγό|[νου ἀνάθεμα, ἐπιστατοῦντος] Ὠκυνείδου Σωτήρ̣[ια. But this too is problematic. The description of an inventoried object generally ends with the reference to the epistates. Ἐπιστατοῦντος τοῦ δεῖνος tends to conclude the entry and is followed by the next object.121 Thus, here, the phiale is either recorded as a thank-offering and unusually positioned after the end of the dating formula (a φιάλη … σωτηρία), or else the thank-offering belongs with the subsequent entry. Alternatively, we could perhaps restore Σωτῆρ[̣ σι, on the assumption that Zeus Soter and Athena Soteira are the intended recipients of the thank-offerings (soteria); but in that case the omission of Θεοῖς would be worrisome, as would be the fact that sole indication that the endowment offered dedications to the Theoi Soteres in the first place is a pair of restorations. The endowment funded the dedication of objects that were usually called simply phialai or dedications (anathemata) and sometimes called thank-offerings (soteria). On only two occasions do we find reference to “another of the soteria;”122 it is only assumed that these came from The Soteria. The inventory may just as easily have recorded “another of the thank-offerings.” When Delos decreed honors for Philokles King of Sidon around 280, these included the sacrifice of thank-offerings (soteria) on his behalf, to Apollo, Artemis, Leto, Zeus Soter, and Athena Soteira.123 So also, expenditure on “torches for the choros of the soteria”124 need not have gone toward any festival so named, nor even have referred to the Antigonid endowment, but rather to some ritual offering of thanks. There were neither Paneia nor Soteria. Still, Antigonos, did act. But if celebration of military victory motivated him, then his gesture, I urge, was not in keeping with the other royal endowments at Delos. We need not accept Momigliano and Fraser’s early date for the Battle of Andros to see the virtue of their observation that we do not strictly know Antigonos’ motivation; it may have been “the recovery of Corinth — a famous and most celebrated event, or it may be some victory in the north which our miserable evidence does not record; or it may be some personal event (recovery from an illness?) to which the old king could have attributed more importance than his distant historians would allow”125—not the recovery of Corinth per se, I suggest, but the family union that accompanied it. Nor were his and the other modest ritual acts that were endowed at Delos established with an eye to international prestige. Or if they were, they can only have been ineffective. They were too small, too parochial.126 And if Gonatas meant the dedications somehow to answer the Aetolian’s panhellenic festival,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 121

the Soteria, as Champion has suggested, then it was a feeble piece of propaganda, witnessed and heard by few. The grand political and military events that have so long served to explain the occasion of these small ritual gestures are in most or all cases unrelated. Reger is in my view surely right to remind that “any argument that tries to see [the Delian endowments] all as answering the same needs is likely to be mistaken.”127 Moreover, nothing indicates that this modest endowed ritual was ever meant to commemorate grand military exploits or was ever funded at a level so as to draw much recognition or prestige beyond the very narrow circle of ritual participants on the island. It is simplest, I urge, to understand the endowments as much more modest expressions of piety and to have been motivated in most, if not all, cases by familial events, as were so many other endowments of the age. If the royal endowments were a part of this wider trend and closely tied to founders’ family histories, could the others have been as well? We can do little more than speculate, and only in the case of the Stesileos with whom we began. With him as with the royal founders, the scope and dimension of his self-promotion was, it turns out, much more limited than has been thought. If I am right, then there was no eponymous festival. But neither was there a private temple or private hosting of political figures in Stesileos’ own private sanctuary.128 He very clearly dedicated the statue of Aphrodite: the hieropoioi recorded payment “to Ophelion, who held the contract to paint and adorn the statue of the Aphrodite whom Stesileos dedicated.”129 But the temple was not ‘his.’ The same account indicates payment to a contractor for whitewashing the temple of the particular Aphrodite whom Stesileos dedicated, but it says nothing of a ‘temple that Stesileos dedicated.’130 If he had dedicated the temple as well, we should expect the account to have said as much. Moreover, the entries record state payments for upkeep of both image and temple, which alone ought to preclude private ownership.131 As much as a polity might care about the well being of private sanctuaries,132 there is no reason to think that Delos spent money to maintain a sanctuary owned by one of its citizens. We must conclude that neither temple nor statue was owned by Stesileos;133 that the sanctuary was Delian, public. If Stesileos had in fact dedicated the temple it would have been odd for the account to have mentioned him as dedicator of the goddess’ cult statue, but to have ommitted that he had also dedicated her house. The temple’s civic status, however, did not preclude Stesileos’ receiving the honor of placing statues of his parents at its entrance.134 In fact, their appearance there calls to mind again the Hellenistic family endowments that I suggest were part of the same tradition that we see on Delos and the kind of occasions that may have inspired the creation of the royal endowments; perhaps one or both of Stesileos’ parents had died shortly before.135 Thus, while Stesileos did not create a private sanctuary to accompany his endowment (as, say, Epikteta or Diomedon did), the occasion of the endowment looks rather like that of the modest endowed family religion that we find both elsewhere and, I suggest, with the Delian royal endowments. Similarly in keeping with the local tradition and wider trend is the small size of his fund — the smallest of those whose principal is known — which bespeaks authentic piety more than ambitous self-promotion; with a yield of only 150 drachmas per year, the intended primary witness to the ritual supported by this endowment was the god rather than the wider community. Stesileos’ endowment did not differ in substance from the other non-royal funds on Delos. Nor, for that matter, are his and the other non-royal endowments distinguishable in any

Kernos, 27 | 2014 122

meaningful sense from the royal ones. They sustained similar ritual, on the same very small scale, possibly motivated by the same kinds of family events, and submitted to the same management. This Delian religious habit, whether in the hands of locals or not, was at root pious and parochial, offering little by way of international or even local recognition or prestige. As closely as the royal endowments followed local tradition, they did innovate in small ways. For one thing, they seem to have introduced the concept of the endowment established by one person on behalf of another, who was to be regarded as both donor and dedicator. A single account could record phialai whose inscriptions declared that performances of the Deliades were underwritten “on behalf of Stratonike” and then indicate that “Stratonike contributed” twelve such.136 Someone else established the endowment on her behalf and in her name, such that ‘she’ was able to offer annual dedications. This was not the practice among the non-royal founders (unless we are to imagine, for example, that Stesileos established the stesileion on behalf of a homonymous relative or some such), but it appears to have been common among royal founders, perhaps even the default gesture. Second, when Hermias endowed rites to be offered not only to the Delian triad, Apollo, Artemis, and Leto, but also to the deceased Arsinoe Philadelphos, he introduced new usage to Delos. No other fund had yet been named for the recipient of ritual, rather than the dedicator. The philadelpheia yielded by the endowment were both named for (as, say, the ptolemaieia, demetrieia, etc.) and offered to the dead and deified queen. In this case, however, Hermias was inevitably recognized as the founder.137 Here, there is no slippage such as we find with the endowment created on Stratonike’s behalf. For, in Arsinoe’s case, the logic that the eponym, formally speaking, was the donor did not work; Stratonike might be regarded as a postumous dedicator, but no one will have entertained the notion that Arsinoe dedicated a phiale to her dead and deified self. The Antigonid endowment that provided dedications to Pan was the same; its dedications were paneia, named for the recipient of the ritual and not for the founder or any other ‘donor’ on whose behalf the endowment was created. These innovations created a few minor oddities in the Delian accounts. As we have seen, stratonikeia were recorded as having been dedicated both by Stratonike and on her behalf. Antigonos, or whoever established this endowment for the purpose of dedicating stratonikeia, was thinking within a widespread framework that named ritual either for divine recipients or human honorees; Delian account keepers, on the other hand, thought in terms of a local administrative tradition by which the donor gave his or her name to the endowment, which paid for the ritual: the stesileion was the fund established by Stesileos, regardless of what or who prompted him to establish it. Following local practice, Delians might naturally think of the philetareion as underwriting dedications contributed by Philetairos,138 even if, as I suggest, the founder was his successor. Cases in which Delians seem to refer to ritual underwritten by the royal endowments as festivals are very few. In two, and perhaps four, cases wood (for fuel) or torches were meant “for The Philokleia;”139 a handful of passages refer, with different phrasing (genitive rather than dative), to “lamps for the chorus at(?) The Ptolemaieia” and several other of the alleged festivals.140 The same phrase is used also of The Aphrodisia, unambiguously a festival.141 But even here, inasmuch as the custom was to refer to all activities supported by the endowments (whether sacrifice or dedication of phialai)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 123

with the eponymous adjective in –eia, a person might find himself in need of certain materials “for the philokleia,” i.e. “for the ritual activities supported by the philokleion.” But this does not a festival make. Moreover, even such potentially ambiguous phrases — perfectly intelligible to Delians, I urge — are extremely rare. We also find expenditure on torches “for the chorus (held) on the eighth (of the month),”142 or the fifteenth.143 This, I suspect, better fits the nature of these endowed rites; these were sacrifices fixed sustainably in the calendar but not as festivals. The remarkable fact is that the Delian accounts manage, over more than a century, and thousands of inventoried items, to avoid ambiguity almost entirely, and to maintain as clear a distinction as they do. Delians’ administrative rigor led them to develop an efficient shorthand for describing various aspects of endowed ritual, using the name of the dedicator — a natural choice in the domain — to derive a name for the endowed principal and dedications made via its yield. Who would not understand that a mikytheion was a dedication of Mikythos? At Delos in the late fourth and early third centuries, festivals named for individuals were scarce. So, confusion would not arise when officials spoke of multiple mikytheia. No one would mistake his modest dedications for a festival anyway. Before long, though, Hellenistic kings and queens began to participate in a manner that slightly changed both the convention and its terms, in clear ways. Yet, even they were not tone-deaf to local convention. We might imagine that to an Antigonos or a Ptolemy, the institution may have seemed like a smaller, or analogous, version of a familiar gesture: the foundation of cult named after, in honor of, or even to, a king or deity. But if it did, we cannot tell, for they observed local protocol closely. Their prominence and spending power did not eclipse or transform local tradition. Antigonos did not swoop in and create giant endowments. Notwithstanding the minor changes that they seem to have introduced, royal founders do seem to have appreciated that this was a modest gesture, family-related, valuable and important in and of itself as ritual; that this was not the place or the institution for grand ostentation and lavish eponymous festivals. Neither do we find Delians emulating at home what was more common practice elsewhere. They do not appear to have endowed sacrifice in others’ names or to have transformed their modest recurring ritual into something more like Alkesippos’ eponymous festival. Not even the prominent Stesileos did so. Rather, they stuck by their tradition, accommodated royal initiative under existing administrative and ritual apparatus, happy no doubt for the infusion of available credit and the honor, but not seeking to flatter kings by naming festivals for them, not naming festivals for themselves, not even elevating such ritual to the level of festival at all, and certainly not serving as a stage on which the rich and powerful propagandized to the world. They were content with the god and a few others as witnesses to their piety, and to honor their own in their own honorable way.

Abbreviations

BRINGMANN, Schenkungen: K. BRINGMANN et al. (eds.), Schenkungen hellenistischer Herrscher an griechische Städte und Heiligtümer, Berlin, 1995, vol. 1.

BRUNEAU, Recherches: Ph. BRUNEAU, Recherches sur les cultes de Délos à l’époque hellénistique et à l’époque impériale, Paris, 1970.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 124

CARNEY, Women and Monarchy: E.D. CARNEY, Women and Monarchy in Macedonia, Norman, 2000. Guide de Délos4: Ph. BRUNEAU et al. (eds.), Guide de Délos, 4th ed., Athens, 2005.

HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia: N.G.L. HAMMOND, F.W. WALBANK, A History of Macedonia, Oxford, 1988, vol. III. LAUM, Stiftungen: B. LAUM, Stiftungen in der griechischen und römischen Antike: Ein Beitrag zur antiken Kulturgeschichte, Leipzig, 1914. TRÉHEUX, Études: J. TRÉHEUX, Études critiques sur les Inventaires de l’Indépendance délienne, Thèse, Paris, 1959. VIAL, Délos indépendante: C. VIAL, Délos indépendante [= BCH suppl. 10], Paris, 1984.

ZIEBARTH, “Delische Stiftungen”: E. ZIEBARTH, “Delische Stiftungen,” Hermes 52 (1917), p. 425–441.

NOTES

1. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 342–343; ZIEBARTH, “Delische Stiftungen,” no. 2. The first dedication was made in 301 (I.Delos 298.A.96 [240 BC]), which suggests that the capital was donated and endowed in 302. 2. The fullest treatment remains Bruneau, Recherches,p. 515–583. Significant early effort by E. SCHULHOF, “Fouilles de Délos,” BCH 32 (1908), p. 5–132, no. 21 (between p. 82–83, esp. p. 101–132 [later I.Delos 366.A]. LAUM, Stiftungen, included four: nos. 53–56. More comprehensive: ZIEBARTH, “Delische Stiftungen”; see also id., “Beiträge zum griechischen Recht: 2. Juristisches aus griechischen Inschriften,” Zeitschrift für vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 19 (1908), p. 269–312, at p. 298–304, which followed “1. Die Stiftung nach griechischem Recht,” Zeitschrift für vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 16 (1906), p. 249–315, with addenda at p. 470–475. J. Tréheux did not live to finish his studies of the endowments of Mikythos and Stesileos: “Études d’épigraphie délienne,” BCH 68–69 (1944–45), p. 271–283; for the latter see his unpublished Études, p. 425–525. BRINGMANN, Schenkungen, nos. 142[E], 151[E], 182[E], with vol. 2.1, Geben und Nehmen: Monarchische Wohltätigkeit und Selbstdarstellung im Zeitalter des Hellenismus, Berlin, 2000, p. 84–87. Also useful, VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 104–105, 205–207, 214, 380–381; R. BOGAERT, Banques et banquiers dans les cité grecques, Leiden, 1968, p. 153–161. 3. And a large share of the Delian festival calendar: BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 670–671, Index III Fêtes. 4. Contrast IG XI.4 682.10–14: στεφανῶ|σαι αὐτὸν δάφνης στεφάνωι καὶ ἀναγο|ρεῦσαι τὸν ἱεροκήρυκα ἐν τῶι θεάτρωι τοῖς | Ἀπολλωνίοις, ὅταν οἱ τῶν παίδων χοροὶ ἀ|γωνίζωνται; 1052.16–21: ἀναγράψαι δὲ τόδε τὸ ψή|[φισ]μα καὶ ἀναθεῖναι εἰς τὸ ἱερὸν τοῦ Ἀ|[π]όλλωνος ἐν Δήλωι καὶ στεφανῶσαι Εὐμή|[δ]ην τοῖς Ἀπολλωνίοις ἐν τῶι θεάτρωι χρ[υ]σῶι | στεφάνωι ἀπὸ δραχμῶν πεντακοσίων κα|τὰ τὸ κήρυγμα τόδε. 5. Contrast I.Delos 316.75: Ἀπολλωνίοις δάφναι καὶ μυρρίναι ἐπὶ τοὺς βωμοὺ[ς] καὶ τὰ πρό[π]υλα̣ ··; IG XI.2 158.A.73: τῶι χορῶι | τ]ῶι γενομένωι τοῖς Ἀπολλωνίοις λαμπάδες παρὰ Λυσίου ΙΙΙ. IG XI.2 154.22–23: εἰς τὸ[γ] χορὸν τοῖς Ἀ[ρ]τε[μι]|σίοις δᾶιδες. I.Delos 440.60–71: λόγος τῶν εἰς τὰ Ποσίδεα· βοὸς ΔΔ· τροφὴ ΔΔ· ἱερείων· α̣ἰγ̣ῶν ΔΔΔ· τροφὴ · | [κ]ριῶν δύο Ποσειδῶνι

Kernos, 27 | 2014 125

Ἀσφαλείωι καὶ Ὀρθωσίωι ΔΔ· δελφάκιον ΔΔ̣̣· κάπρος Δ· | [γλ]υκέως με. ΙΙΙ, χοεῖς [Ι], τιμὴ ΔΔΔΔ· οἴνου Κνιδίων κεραμίων ΔΙΙ, τιμὴ · ἀλφίτων | [με.] ΙΙΙ, τιμὴ Δ· ξύλων ΤΙΙ, ΔΙΙΙ· ὄξους Ι̣Ι̣Ι̣· σταφίδες Δ̣· ἀρτύματα ΙΙ· [ἅλ]ες · ἔλαι|[ον] · κέραμος · ἄνθρακες ΔΔ· ἄννησσον · ἐργάταις Δ· μαγείροις Δ· ἐπισπ|λαγχνίδιοι ΙΙΙ· ἐ̣ρέ̣βινθοι · κάρυα ΔΔ· ἰσχάδες [Δ]· κληματίδες καὶ ῥυ|[μοὶ] · τοῖς μὴ πορευομένοις εἰς ἀπόμοιραν · [οἴνου] Κώιου κεραμίων ΔΔΔ, | [τιμ]ὴ ΗΔ· νικητήριον ἁμίλλης Δ· δευτερεῖον . [ἔχομ]εν δὲ τὸ ἀποτεταγμέ|[νον] Η· καὶ τῶν ἡμιωβελίω[ν Δ]ΔΔΔ· δερμάτων · κεραμ[ίω]ν . vac. | [λόγ]ος τῶν εἰς τὰ Εἰλειθυίαια· ἀπὸ τῶν ΔΔΔΔ· πρόβατ[ον] Δ̣̣· πυροὶ Δ· τυρὸς · ἐρέβιν|[θοι] · σήσαμα vac. μέλι Ι· στεφανώματα Ι̣Ι̣Ι̣· ἀρτοκόπωι ΙΙΙ· λάχανα vac.? τάριχος · [ὄ]ψον · κάρυα ΙΙΙ· οἶνος ΙΙΙ. 6. Contrast I.Delos 354.9–10: τὸμ μ[ισθὸν] | τῶν αὐλητῶν τῶν εἰς Ἀπολλώνια. 7. Contrast I.Delos 1869.c.1–8: Λα<ο>δάμειαν Μ̣[ηδεί]ου | Πειραιέως θυγατέρα | ὁ πατὴρ καὶ ἡ μήτηρ | Τιμοθέα Γλαύκου | Πειραιέως θυγάτηρ | κανηφορήσασαν | Δήλια καὶ Ἀπολλώνια, | Ἀπόλλωνι, Ἀρτέμιδι, Λητοῖ; IG XI.2 108.3: καὶ οἵδε ἐχορήγησαν εἰς Ἀπολλώνια (not that this specific ministration was necessary in the case of endowed ritual). 8. Contrast IG XI.2 287.A.24: τοῦ βοὸς τοῦ θυθέντος τοῖς Ποσιδείοις ἡ βύρσα ἐπράθη δραχμῶν . 9. Principal and expenditure are attested for Gorgias’ endowment: I.Delos 320.B.79: [καὶ] ὃ ἀνέθηκε Γοργίας ΧΗΗΔΔΔ (principal); I.Delos 366.A.132–133 (207): Τιμοσθέν̣ε̣ι̣ Τ̣ι̣μο[σθένου?] | εἰς Γοργίεια {ι} ΗΔΔ (interest); also Echenike’s: IG XI.2 287.A.122–123 (250) [Bruneau, Recherches, 343]: καὶ τόδε ἀργύριον ἐδανείσαμεν· μηνὸς Ληναιῶνος κατὰ ψήφισμα τῆι πόλει καὶ προδανεισταῖς τοῖς βο[υ]|λευταῖς δραχμὰς ΧΧΧ ἃς ἀνέθηκεν Ἐχενίκη Στησίλεω εἰς θυσίαν τῶι τε Ἀπόλλωνι καὶ τῆι Ἀφροδίτηι, ἐπὶ ὑποθήκει ταῖς προσόδοις ταῖς δημοσίαις· ἡ συγγραφὴ παρὰ Πάχητι (principal); I.Delos 372.A.71–72 (200): [καὶ τόδε] ἄλλο [ἀργ]ύριον εἰσήκει τῶι θεῶι τοῦ ἱεροῦ τοῦ ἱστιατικοῦ τοῦ ἐχενικείου· παρὰ Φωκαέως τοῦ Πολυξένου τὸ δάνειον ὃ ἔφη δαν είσ[ασ|θα]ι τὸμ πατέρα αὐτοῦ ΗΗΗ, under restored heading (l.32) καὶ οἵδε τόκους ἀπέδοσαν τοῦ ἱεροῦ ἀργυρίου (interest); also I.Delos 366.A.131, 133–134: ἐδώκαμεν δὲ καὶ τοῖς ἐπιστάταις εἰς τὰς θυσίας ἐν τοῖς καθήκουσι χρόνοις (131); Δεξιθέωι Δε[ξ]ιθέου εἰς Ἐ[χενί]|κεια ΗΗΗ (133–134). 10. For which see still LAUM, Stiftungen. 11. E.g. I.Delos 298.A.93–94: ἄλλας φ[ιά]λας [ἐπιγραφὴν ἐχούσας· Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λη]τοῖ ἐπιδό[ν|τος Φιλεταίρ]ου, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Ἐλπίν[ου, ἐπὶ Θαρσύνοντο]ς, ἐπ’ Ἀμ[φικλέου]ς, ἐπὶ Φίλλιδος. 12. E.g. I.Delos 370.39: [καὶ τάδε δάνεια εἰσήκει· ὁ δεῖνα] τοῦ ἱεροῦ τοῦ φιλοκλείου ΗΗ; I.Delos 399.A.123–124: παρὰ Τλησιμένου τοῦ Λεοντιάδου τὸ δάνειον ὃ ἔφη δανείσασθαι παρ’ ἱεροποιῶν Σήμου καὶ Πυθ[ο]|κλέους τοῦ φιλοκλείου ΗΗΗ; 370.42–43: — – — ωνος τοῦ ἐχενικείου . Η παρ’ ἱεροποιῶν Εὐκλείδου καὶ Τελεσ[αρχίδου — – — | — – — τοῦ ἐ]χενικείου ΔΔΔΔ . . ., under heading (39) [καὶ τάδε δάνεια εἰσήκει; 45: παρὰ Στησίλεω] τοῦ Πραξιμένου τοῦ νησιαδείου ΗΗΗ. 13. I.Delos 366.A.131–134: ἐδώκαμεν δὲ καὶ τοῖς ἐπιστάταις εἰς τὰς θυσίας ἐν τοῖς καθήκουσι χρόνοις· Κοσμιάδει εἰς Φιλαδέ[λφ]εια ΗΗΗΔΔΔ· Ἀριστοπάππωι Φιλίου | εἰς Εὐτύχεια ΗΗΗ· Ἀντιγόνωι Χαριστίου εἰς Φιλεταίρεια ΗΗΗΗ· Ἀριστοπάππωι Τέλλιος εἰς Χερσον[ήσ]ια ΗΗΗΗ· Τιμοσθέν̣ε̣ι̣ Τ̣ιμο̣ [σθένου?] | εἰς Γοργίεια {ι} ΗΔΔ· Τελεσαρχίδηι Ἐλπίνου εἰς Φιλόκλεια Η· Ὀστάκ[ω]ι Ὀστάκου εἰς Στησίλεια Η· Δεξιθέωι Δε[ξ]ιθέου εἰς Ἐ[χενί]|κεια ΗΗΗ· Ἑβδομίσκωι Ἀρίστιος εἰς Φιλωνίδεια ΗΗΗΔΔ· Θεοφραστίδε[ι] Φιλλάκου εἰς Νησιάδεια ΗΗΗ; see ZIEBARTH, “Delische Stiftungen,” p. 433. 14. On the prytanikon / hestiatikon: F. DURRBACH, E. SCHULHOF, “Fouilles de Délos,” BCH 30 (1910), p. 122–186, p. 160–165; BRUNEAU, Recherches p. 442–443; VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 205–207; TRÉHEUX, Études p. 206 n. 3, 466. 15. On the two female founders on Delos, as well as others elsewhere, see E. STAVRIANOPOULOU, “Gruppenbild mit Dame”. Untersuchungen zur rechtlichen und sozialen Stellung der Frau auf den Kykladen im Hellenismus und in der römischen Kaiserzeit, Stuttgart, 2006, p. 228–249.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 126

16. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 448–449; TRÉHEUX, BCH 68–69 (1944–45), p. 278–279. 17. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 519–523. 18. IG XI.2 287.A.122–123; BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 343. Also in 250, Echenike dedicated a phiale weighing 120 drachmas, which seems not to have been paid for from the endowment: IG XI.2 287.B.32: καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς ἡμετέρας ἀρχῆς· φιάλη ἔκτυπος ἀργυρᾶ, Ἐχενίκης ἀνάθημα, ὁλκὴ ΗΔΔ. Also a gold cup: IG XI.2 287.B.75: καὶ ἐπὶ τῆς ἡμετέρας ἀρχῆς· κύλιξ χρυσῆ, Ἐχενίκης ἀνάθημα, ὁλκὴ ; I.Delos 313.frab.34; this kylix seems to have been the same as the hedupotis also credited to her: I.Delos 385.A.fra-e.9–10: ἡδυποτὶς χρυ|σ]ῆ, Ἐχενίκης ἀνάθεμα, ὁλκὴ ΔΔΔΔΙΙΙ; 421.27; 439.fra. 6–7; 442.B.7; 455.B.fra.7; 461.B.fra.9; 465.frd.8; 469bis.8. 19. Outlay in 207 BC was 870 drachmas: I.Delos 366.A.134. Philonis’ other dedications included a thymiaterion that weighed more than 1100 drachmas: I.Delos 1450.A.162–163: θυμιατήριον πομπικὸν περιηργυρωμέ[νον, ἀνάθημα Φιλωνίδος τῆς Ἡγησαγόρου, ἐφ’ οὗ ἐπι|γραφή· XΗΔΔ, ἄστατον; cf. also I.Delos 1423.A.fra.i.13–15; 1429.B.i.42–44; 1432.A.frb.ii.19–22; 1441.A.ii.65– 66;1449.A.frab.ii.143–145. Also, an array of other valuable vessels: I.Delos 1432.A.frb.ii.24–29; 1441.A.ii.69–73; 1441.A.ii.117–118; 1449.A.frab.ii.147–150; 1450.A.164–166; 1450.A.186; 1462.2–5. 20. Nesiades: IG XI.2 289.16–18; The earliest attested phiale from Gorgias’ endowment was dedicated in 228: IG XI.2 124.68–70 (221): φιάλην Γοργίου ἀνάθεμα ἐπ’ Ἀμφ[ο|τ]ε̣ρ̣ο̣ῦ̣ (228); also 122.63–65 (224) restored. The phialion that he dedicated in 230 was unrelated to the endowment: IG XI.2 125.12 (ca 215): [φ]ιάλιον Γοργίου ἐπὶ Σκυλλί[χου] (230). That they are Delians: VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 381. 21. Sopatros: I.Delos 320.B.57–58 (229): καὶ ἄλλας φιάλας ἃς παρελά[βομεν π]αρὰ Τληπολέμου καὶ Πολυστράτου· ἐπὶ Σκυλλίχου Πτολεμαιέων, Ἀντιγονε[ίων, — – — | Δημη]τ̣ρ̣ιείων, Πανείων, Στρατονικείων, Εὐτυχείων, Σωπατρείων, Μαψιχιδῶν ἀπαρχή. 22. The earliest attested phiale was dedicated in 251. I.Delos 398.A.90–91 (240); 313.frab.71 (235/4?); 314.B.78–79 (after 235/4) restored; 320.B.36–37 (229) restored. Patronym and ethnic preserved: IG XI.2 287.B.127–128 (250): φιάλην Νικόλαος Ἀγίου Αἰτωλὸς ἀνέθηκεν Ἀπόλ<λ>ωνι Ἀρ|τέμιδι Λητοῖ, ὁλκὴ Η; XI.4 1075.2–3 (mid III). On an occasion unknown to us — not impossibly the creation of the endowment itself — he was honored for his “piety toward the sanctuary and goodwill toward the people” (IG XI.4 1075 [mid III]): ὁ δῆμος ὁ Δηλίων | Ν[ικό]λ̣α̣ον Ἀγία | Αἰτω̣λὸν ἐκ Προσχε[ί]ο̣υ̣ | [ε]ὐσεβείας ἕνε[κε]ν | τῆς πε̣ρὶ τ[ὸ] ἱερὸν [καὶ] | [ε]ὐ[ν]οία[ς τ]ῆς [ε]ἰς [τὸν δῆμ]ον. E. WILL, Histoire politique du monde hellénistique 323–30 av. J.-C. (2nd ed., Nancy 1979–82) vol. I, p. 327, notes that Nikolaos “fonde une fête à son nom, les Nikolaieia, du même type que les Ptolemaieia ou que les Antigoneia!” This is true, but it might be more apt to say that both he and the kings were following the example of Delian locals. 23. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 530 n. 4, 658. ZIEBARTH, “Delische Stiftungen,” p. 430, thought him a banker; V. GABRIELSEN, “Banking and Credit Operations in the Hellenistic Times,” in Z.H. ARCHIBALD et al. (eds.), Making, Moving and Managing: The New World of Ancient Economies, 323–31 BC, Oxford, 2005, p. 136–164, 155, dubs him a “specialist in Delian sea finance”; we know only that he resided on Delos, “collaborat[ed] in just fashion with those who sail the sea,” and was honored for reasons no longer preserved: IG XI.4 691.4–8: ἐπειδὴ Εὔτυχος Φιλώτου Χῖος, οἰκῶν ἐν | [Δή]λωι καὶ συνεργαζόμενος ἀπὸ τοῦ δικαίου [τοῖς | τὴν θά]λ̣ατταν πλέουσιν, ἔν τε τοῖς ἔμπροσθε[ν | χρόνοις διε]τέλει τούς τε θεοὺς σεβόμενος κα[ὶ | εὔνους ὢν τῶι] ἱερῶι καὶ Δηλίοις καὶ νῦν διὰ τὴν | — – –. Such words neither make him a banker nor preclude the possibility. Chian: I.Delos 425.15: ἄλλην, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Διογένου, ἱεροποιῶν δὲ Ἀπολλοδώρου, Ἀντιγόν]ου· Εὔτυχο[ς] Φιλώτα Χῖος Ἀπόλλωνι, ὁλ. Η; 426.4; 439.fra.66; 442.A.71–72. The first attested phiale was generated in 230 and recorded in 229. 24. IG XI.2 105.1: ἐπὶ Ἀριστοκρίτου ἄρχοντος (284); 3–4: οἵδε ἐχορήγησαν εἰς Ἀπολλώνια· | Στησίλεως Διοδό[τ]ου; 107.1–2: ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Χάρμου (280) οἵδε ἐχορήγησαν | εἰς Ἀπολλώνια; 13:

Kernos, 27 | 2014 127

τραγωιδῶν· Στησίλεως Διοδότου. On his family see VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 75, Stemma XI; also TRÉHEUX, Études, p. 429–433. 25. VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 75, stemma XI. IG XI.4 1028.b.4–5: πρεσβευτὴς ηἱρ̣έ̣θ̣[η | Διόδ]οτος Στ[ησίλ]εω; XI.2 155.b.7–8: τοῖς ἱεροποιοῖς [τοῖς ἐπὶ Δη]μέου ἄρχοντος Διοδότωι Στησίλεω, Φωκρίτωι | Δημό[ν]ου; 158.B.12–13: ἐδανείσαμεν | τοῖς προδανεισ|ταῖς (4–6) … Διοδότωι Στη| σίλεω; XI.4 1155: Διόδοτος Στησίλεω | Ἑρμῆι λαμπαδαρχήσας. | Ἀργαδεῖς ἐνίκων. 26. C. DURVYE, “Aphrodite à Délos : culte privé et public à l’époque hellénistique,” REG 119 (2006), p. 83–113, esp. 94–97. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 336. 27. E.g. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 337. R. HAMILTON, Treasure Map: A Guide to the Delian Inventories, Ann Arbor, 2000, p. 187–189, 189: “It is virtually certain that [Stesileos] constructed the sanctuary as well as providing the cult image.” Guide de Délos4, no. 88 p. 261: “il fut consacré par Stésiléos.” Recent excavations support a construction date in the late fourth century: C. DURVYE, “Délos. L’Aphrodision : rapport sur les fouilles de juillet 2008,” BCH 133 (2009), p. 597–608, 602–605; also that the area was not completely undeveloped at the time of construction: p. 605–607. The oikos immediately to the west of the temple, on the other hand, appears to have been built at the same time: DURVYE, REG 119 (2006), p. 96–97. C. DURVYE, “Recherches récentes à Délos : l’Aphrodision de Stèsileôs,” RA (2009), p. 198–207, 200, conjectures that perhaps it stored phialai generated by Stesileos’ endowment or served as a banquet hall. 28. Guide de Délos4, no. 88. See especially DURVYE, RA (2009), p. 198–207; BCH 133 (2009), p. 597–608; “Délos. L’Aphrodision : étude du matériel mis au jour en 2005–2006,” BCH 132 (2008), p. 803–806; “Délos. L’Aphrodision : fouilles dans la partie orientale du sanctuaire,” BCH 130 (2006), p. 728–741; still highly useful is BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 334–341. 29. IG XI.4 1166: [Σ]τ̣ησίλεως τὸμ πατέρ̣[α] | Διόδοτον; 1167: Στησίλεως τὴμ μητέρα | Ἐχενίκην. 30. IG XI.4 1277: Ἐχ̣ενίκη Στησίλε[ω] Ἀ[φρ]οδίτ[ηι]. See VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 75. 31. C. DURVYE, “Évolution fonctionelle d’une divinité à l’échelle locale : les offrandes à l’Aphrodite de Stèsileôs à Délos,” Kernos Suppl. 23 (2009), p. 149–167, 156–160. By the time Athens returned to control of the island, patronage of the little temple seems to have declined somewhat and dedications seem more modest: DURVYE, in Kernos Suppl. 23 p. 160–162. And yet this is also the period in which the sanctuary was apparently expanded, with the addition of a cluster of oikoi adjacent to the temple, to the east. DURVYE, RA (2009), p. 202–205. The designation, ‘oikoi,’ is ancient; see e.g. I.Delos 1417.A.ii.19–20: ο̣ἶ̣κο̣ι ἐν τῶι ἱερῶι τεθυρωμένοι κερα|μωτοὶ κλεῖς οὐκ ἔχοντες. By this time the Athenian administrators were keeping track of the temple’s dedications. I.Delos 1412.28–35; 1417.A.ii.1–21, the fullest accounting; 1423.B.a.ii.17–23; 1426.B.ii. 1–22; 1442.B.30–35; 1443.B.ii.91–101. 32. J. MA, Statues and Cities: Honorific Portraits and Civic Identity in the Hellenistic World, Oxford, 2013, p. 229. 33. Guide de Délos4, no. 91; BRUNEAU, Recherches p. 459–461. It may also call to mind the Mouseion established by Epikteta, on Thera, about a century later, a private sanctuary established by and for a prominent family and bespeaking its own particular piety: IG XII.3 330 [A. WITTENBURG, Il testamento di Epikteta, Trieste, 1990; LAUM, Stiftungen, 43]. 34. DURVYE, RA (2009), p. 199–202. 35. GABRIELSEN, l.c. (n. 23), p. 153–154, emphasizes the family’s engagement in business: “Diodotos, one of the seven prodaneistai in 282 BC, was the son of Stesileos, who in 302 had established the foundation Stesileia, and the brother of Echenike, who in 250 set up the foundation Echenikeia; four years earlier (286), he himself had served the sanctuary as hieropoios. … These individuals — and indeed the entire ensemble of Delian prodaneistai —fall squarely into the larger group of portfolio-holding entrepreneurs, who engaged in moneylending either independently or as energetic, profit-making sub-lenders standing amidst chains of credit. In the period of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 128

independence, temple, city and wealthy Delians had formed a smoothly working credit coalition.” 36. See, however, the qualification offered by MA, o.c. (n. 32), p. 233–234: “The monuments set up by Stesileos on Delos — two family statues, and a temple — sound like a grand statement, but it is important to realize that they were set up in an isolated site on the edge of the main area of the shrine: segmented off from the epiphanestatoi topoi reserved for dedications and the very rare public honorific statues, and excentric. During the period of Delian independennce, most private honorific families in the late third and second centuries BC crowded within the dromos …, in a series that hinted at a form of organization, public control, and family consent to collaborate with the public. The case of Stesileos suggests that the elitist analysis cannot be pushed too far, because of the diversity and fragmentation of social space in the Hellenistic cities: what was the audience of the family monuments? Could the habit of family statues have been an elite passetemps, part of an incoherent social landscape which combined signs of political institutions and discourses as well as private, ‘anthropological’ values and interests? Could the practice have been part of a complex and evolving dialectical relationship between the community and the elite which it helped constitute?” M. SCOTT, Space and Society in the Greek and Roman Worlds, Cambridge, 2013, p. 60, suggests that the site is part of increased development, heavily religious, in a transit zone. 37. E.g. W.W. TARN, “The Battles of Andros and Cos,” JHS 29 (1909), p. 264–285, 271–274; K. BURASELIS , Das hellenistische Makedonien und die Ägäis: Forschungen zur Politik des Kassandros und der drei ersten Antigoniden (Antigonos Monopthalmos, Demetrios Poliorketes und Antigonos Gonatas) im Ägäischen Meer und in Westkleinasien [= MünchBeitr 73], Munich, 1982, p. 146–151; G. REGER, “The Date of the Battle of Kos,” AJAH 10 (1985) [1993], p. 155–177, 158–159; id., “The political history of the Kyklades: 260– 200 B.C.,” Historia 43 (1994), p. 32–69, notes (p. 54 n. 92) that the “several festivals” of Antigonos “have been the subject of endless discussion, usually attached to the date(s) of the battles of Kos or Andros and the reality (or illusion) of an Antigonid hegemony over the islands after c. 250 B.C.”; C. CHAMPION, “In Defence of Hellas: The Antigonid Soteria and Paneia at Delos and the Aetolian Soteria at Delphi,” AJAH 3/4 (2004/05) [2007], p. 72–88. 38. G. HÖLBL, A History of the Ptolemaic Empire, London/New York, 2001, p. 98. 39. R.M. ERRINGTON, A History of the Hellenistic World 323–30 BC, Malden, 2008, p. 107. 40. J.B. SCHOLTEN, Politics of Plunder: Aitolians and their Koinon in the Early Hellenistic Era, 279–217 B.C., Berkeley, 2000, p. 99, following BURASELIS, o.c. (n. 37), p. 141–144 and citing (n. 9) the Delian Soteria and Paneia specifically. 41. P.Cair.Zen. III 59341a.4 and 9–14: ὁ γεωργός μου Θήρων ἐπρίατο παρὰ | τῆς πόλεως παρασχεῖν οἶνον τῆι γινομένηι | πανηγύρει ἐγ Κυπράνδοις κατ’ ἐνιαυτόν, | ὑπὲρ οὗ ἐγὼ παρέσχον τὸν οἶνον μετρη|τὰς πδ τὸμ μετρητὴν ἀνὰ ι | ὃ γίνονται ων. 42. On numbers fed by animal sacrifices see F.S. NAIDEN, Smole Signals for the Gods: Ancient Greek Sacrifice from the Archaic through Roman Periods, Oxford, 2013, p. 258–268. 43. As E. BICKERMAN, “Sur les batailles navales de Cos et d’Andros,” REA 40 (1938), p. 369–383, 374– 375, worried long ago: “Il faut fermer les yeux à l’évidence pour estimer que la fondation d’un tel sacrifice par un souverain équivalait nécessairement à une manifestation de sa puissance dans l’Égée. C’était simplement un hommage à Apollon (financièrement assez médiocre), qui marquait, à soi seul, seulement l’existence de bonnes relations entre le donateur et les Déliens et, partant, la puissance protectrice de l’Ile sainte.” BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 579–583, saw some scope for political implications, but fundamentally agreed; similarly, HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia, p. 593 and F.W. WALBANK, JHS 106 (1986), p. 243, at least in the case of The Paneia and Soteria. See also WILL, o.c. (n. 22), p. 232. 44. See the list of new and reorganized civic festivals at A. CHANIOTIS, “Sich selbst feiern? Die städtischen Feste des Hellenismus im Spannungsfeld zwischen Religion und Politik,” in P. ZANKER,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 129

M. WÖRRLE (eds.), Stadtbild und Bürgerbild im Hellenismus, München, 1995, p. 147–172, 164–168. Festivals named for founders — Delos excepted — represented a small fraction of the considerable growth in new and expanded festal activity. J.D. MIKALSON, Religion in Hellenistic Athens, Berkeley, 1998, p. 212–213, and scarcely another, hesitates over the designation, ‘festival’: “Though named after the donor, this ‘festival’ [sc. The Stesileia] and others like it on Delos were to give divine honors to the deities, not to the founders…. This particular type of “festival,” named after the donor but intended to honor the deity, perhaps derived from the embassies (theōriai) sent to Delos by cities with sacrifices, choruses, and dedications to honor Apollo. Whatever its origins, it became the format according to which, in the third century, the Ptolemies, Antigonids, and Attalids made their primary contribution to Delian religious life. In Athens, as we have seen, benevolent Hellenistic monarchs might be rewarded with divine honors and large public festivals in their honor. But on Delos these same monarchs received from the Delian state itself no such honors. Rather, the kings or members of their families or staff contributed sums of money, probably rather modest by their standards, and from the interest each year a sacrifice was performed, the Deliades sang, and a vase was made and inscribed to commemorate the event. The celebration was named after the monarch, whether Ptolemaieia, Antigoneia, or Attaleia, but the recipient of the honors was Apollo, not the monarch.” 45. I.Thessaly 52 (III): Leonides of Halikarnassos dedicated a stoa, its rents to be used to fund the eponymous gymnastic competition. IG XII.4 350 (late 2nd cent. BC): a gymnasial calendar from perhaps as much as a century later indicates that The Pythokleia —presumably the very same — were celebrated on the tenth of Artamitios (IG XII.4 281.33–34): ι Πυθόκλεια Διὶ | Σωτῆρι; a text from the mid 2nd century AD mentions a hereditary priest of the Pythokleians, presumably an association that was invested in the cult, perhaps of individuals claiming descent from Pythokles: MAIURI, Nuova Silloge, 462.11–12: ἱερέα κατὰ γένος Πυθο|[κ]λείων. LAUM, Stiftungen, 27 (182/1): Alkessipos of Kalydon gave 130 gold staters and 22 minas, 30 staters of silver to endow a sacrifice and public feast to Apollo Pythios. DITTENBERGER, Syll.3 672, 671 [LAUM, Stiftungen, 28, 29] (160/59): Attalos II and Eumenes II, apparently at Delphi’s request, funded cult to Apollo. Dittenberger (IG VII 43), suggested that the Poseidonios who received endowed sacrifices at Aigosthena (III/II) may have been a local Poseidon or simply a human founder like Alkesippos; but that we cannot know: “Argumentum huius tituli gravissimis dubitationibus obnoxium est.” In any case the text does not refer to a festival called The Posidonieia vel sim. 46. I.Delos 442.B.145–146: σκάφια μικύθεια ΙΙΙΙ, ἐπὶ Κοσμιάδου, Ὀλυμπιοδώρου, Πολυξένου, Ξένωνος, Με|νεκράτου, Ἀριστάρχου, Δημητρίου· ἄλλο, ἐπιστατοῦντος Τεισικλέους· ἄλλο, ἐπὶ Τελεσαρχίδου· κύλικας μικυθείους ΙΙΙΙ, ἐπὶ Διοκλέους, Νικίου, Δημητρίου, Ἀρίστωνος; IG XI.2 133.24–27: μικύθειον ἄρχοντος Ξενοτί|μου, ἐπιστατοῦντος Μειλιχίδου· μικύθειον ἄρ|χοντος Ξενοτίμου, ἱεροποιῶν δὲ Ἀμφοτεροῦ, | Πολυξένου, Σιλήνου, Φιλίππου. 47. E.g. IG XI.2 287.B.8: καὶ τάδε ποτήρια ὧν ἀνέθηκε Στησίλεως; I.Delos 442.B.173–175: ποτήριον στ[ησίλειον], | ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Ἀριστοβούλου· ἄλλο ποτήριον στησίλειον, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Ὀρθοκλέους· ἄλλο ποτήριον στησίλειον, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Σωτέλου· ἄλλο ποτήριον στησίλειον, ἐ[π’ ἄρχοντος] | Σωκλείδου· ἄλλο ποτήριον στησίλειον, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Ἀνέκτου· 48. I.Delos 291.e.11: — [στ]ησιλείου ἀρ̣[γυρίου?] —; 354.23: ὃ ἔφη ὀφ]είλειν τὸμ πατέρα αὐτῆς ἐ̣[πὶ] τ̣[ῆι οἰκίαι] τῆι πρὸς τῶ̣ι κίονι τοῦ στησιλείου; 370.40 and 41: Ἑβδομίσκος Ἀρίσ[τι]ος τ[οῦ] σ̣τ̣[ησιλείου?] and Ἀ[ρ]χία ὃ ἔφη δανείσασθαι αὐτὸν ἐπὶ τῶι πιθῶνι τοῦ στησιλείου. 49. IG XI.2 287.A.122–123: καὶ τόδε ἀργύριον ἐδανείσαμεν· μηνὸς Ληναιῶνος κατὰ ψήφισμα τῆι πόλει καὶ προδανεισταῖς τοῖς βο[υ]|λευταῖς δραχμὰς ΧΧΧ ἃς ἀνέθηκεν Ἐχενίκη Στησίλεω εἰς θυσίαν τῶι τε Ἀπόλλωνι καὶ τῆι Ἀφροδίτηι, ἐπὶ ὑποθήκει ταῖς προσόδοις ταῖς δημοσίαις· ἡ συγγραφὴ παρὰ Πάχητι.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 130

50. E.g. I.Delos 372.A.71–72: [καὶ τόδε] ἄλλο [ἀργ]ύριον εἰσήκει τῶι θεῶι τοῦ ἱεροῦ τοῦ ἱστιατικοῦ τοῦ ἐχενικείου· παρὰ Φωκαέως τοῦ Πολυξένου τὸ δάνειον ὃ ἔφη δανείσ[ασ|θα]ι τὸμ πατέρα αὐτοῦ ΗΗΗ. 51. I.Delos 442.B.109–110: φιά|λας γοργιείους ΔΔΙ; I.Delos 407.38: Ἀντιγόνωι Ἀλεξικοῦ τοῦ γοργιείου Η. 52. IG XI.2 287.A.193: καὶ οἵδε τόκους ἀπέδοσαν τοῦ ἀργυρίου οὗ ἀνέθηκε Νησιάδης; 138–139: παρελάβο|μεν δὲ] παρὰ Χαρίλα τόκον τοῦ νησιαδείου . 53. I.Delos 449.A.10, 30–32: 10: [καὶ τάδε δάνε]ια ἐδανείσαμεν τοῦ ἱεροῦ ἀργυρίου; 30–32: τ]οῦ φιλωνιδε[ί]ου ΗΗ· καὶ τοῦ φιλο|[κλείου] ΗΗ· καὶ τοῦ ξενο[κλειδ]είου ΗΗ..̣ · καὶ τοῦ φιλωνιδείου|...... Ι· καὶ τοῦ φιλοκλείου [...... · κ]αὶ τοῦ εὐτυχείου Η. 54. I.Delos 401.27: σκάφιον φιλωνίδειον; IG XI.2 133.53–54: ποτή|ριον φιλωνίδειον; 22: φιλωνίδειον. 55. I.Delos 1432.b.ii.19–20: θυμιατήριον πομπικὸν περιηργυρωμένον, ἀνάθε|μα Φιλωνίδος τῆς Ἡγησαγόρου. 56. As I suspect is the case at I.Delos 1432.B.a.i.8: σκάφια Φιλωνίδος δεκαὲξ καὶ μικύθειον ἓν. 57. E.g. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 342–343. 58. VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 28. 59. I.Delos 320.B.14: ἄλλαι φιάλαι ἃς ἀνέθεσαν Θυεστάδαι καὶ Ὠκυνεῖδαι, ἐπ’ ἀρχό]ντων Φιλίου, etc.; 19–20: ἄλλαι φιάλαι ἃς ἀν[έ]|θηκαν Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολεμαίου, ἐπ’ ἀρχόντων Σωσιμάχο[υ, etc. 60. L. CRISCUOLO, “Agoni e politica alla corte di Alessandria. Riflessioni su alcuni epigrammi di Posidippo,” Chiron 33 (2003), p. 311–333, at 324–326, raises the possibility that the Ptolemaia in which Etearchos of Cyrene was victorious may have been Delian (Poseidippos, Epigr. 76 [Austin- Bastianini]): ἐκτέ̣ ◌̣τα◌̣[τ]α◌̣ι◌̣ π◌̣[ρ]ο◌̣τ◌̣[ρ]έ◌̣χ◌̣ω◌̣ν◌̣ ἀκρώνυχος, ὡς Ἐτεάρχωι | [οὗ]το̣ ◌̣ς ◌̣ κ◌̣[λεινὸς Ἄ]ρα̣ ◌̣ψἵππος ἀεθλοφορεῖ· | [ν]ι̣κήσ[α]ς̣ Πτ̣ο̣λ̣εμ̣α̣ῖ̣α καὶ Ἴσθμια καὶ Νεμέαι δὶς | [τ]ο̣ὺς̣ Δελφ̣ο̣ὺ̣ς̣ π̣α̣[ριδ]ε̣ῖν̣ οὐκ ἐθέλει στεφάνους. It is in my view unthinkable that the poet would have put a ritual event funded at a few hundred drachmas per year — even if I am wrong to think that there was no such Delian ‘festival’—at the head of a list of victories at the Isthmian, Nemean, and Pythian games. The reference is clearly to the panhellenic Ptolemaia at Alexandria; see e.g. D.J. THOMPSON, “Posidippus, Poet of the Ptolemies,” in K. GUTZWILLER (ed.), The New Posidippus: A Hellenistic Poetry Book, New York, 2005, p. 269–283, 280. 61. See still: E.F. BRUCK, Totenteil und Seelgerät im griechischen Recht; eine entwicklungsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zum Verhältnis von Recht und Religion mit Beitrâgen zur Geschichte des Eigentums und des Erbrechts, München, 1926; id., “Les facteurs moteurs de l’origine et du développement des fondations grecques et romaines,” RIDA 2 (1955), p. 159–166. W. KAMPS, “Les origines de la fondation cultuelle dans la Grèce ancienne,” in J. PIRENNE (ed.), Archives d’histoire du droit oriental, Bruxelles/Paris, 1937, vol. I p. 145–179. More recently A. WITTENBURG, “Grande familles et associations cultuelles à l’époque hellénistique,” Ktema 23 (1998), p. 451–455; S.B. POMEROY, “Family Values: The Uses of the Past,” in P. BILDE et al. (eds.), Conventional Values of the Hellenistic Greeks [= Studies in Hellenistic Civilization 8], Aarhus, 1997, p. 204–219. IG XII.3 329 [LAUM, Stiftungen, 44]; IG IV2.2 1236 [LAUM, Stiftungen, 57; IG IV 840]; IG IV 841.14–24 [LAUM, Stiftungen, 58]; here, the city played a key role, appointing two overseers to lend the money, let the land, collect both interest and rents, perform the sacrifice, nominate auditors, and render accounts of their activities. Public though the setting was, this was family ritual: KAMPS, ibid., p. 171. F. GHERCHANOC, L’Oikos en fête. Célébrations familiales et sociabilité en Grèce ancienne, Paris, 2012, p. 159–168 62. IG XII.4 348.86–115. 63. IG XII.3 330.50–51: μηδὲ χρῆσαι τὸ Μουσεῖον μηθενί, | εἴ κα μή τις τῶν ἐξ Ἐπιτελείας γάμον ποιῇ.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 131

64. Syll.3 1044. 33–36: τῆι μὲν π[ρ]ώτηι | θύειν Τύχηι Ἀγαθῆι πατρὸς καὶ μητρὸς Ποσε[ιδω]νίου | [κ]ριὸν καὶ Δαίμονι Ἀγαθῶι Ποσειδωνίου καὶ [Γο]ργίδος | κριόν. 65. IG XII.7 515. The Delphic Attaleia, whose audience was the modest community of gymnasium attendees, could draw on but 200 drachmas (3000 at interest of 1/15th) for “sacrifices and honors” (Syll.3 672.9 [LAUM, Stiftungen, 28]) εἰς δὲ τὰς τιμὰς καὶ θυσίας δραχμὰς τρισχιλίας; 23: τόκου πεντεκαιδεκάτου. 66. When Euagis daughter of Kleusthenes endowed cult for Asklepios, among others, she may have named the cult after her father. The enabling document is very poorly preserved. P.M. FRASER, G.E. BEAN, The Rhodian Peraea and islands, Oxford, 1954, p. 16, saw a possible reference to a festival named for her father: [Κ]λευσθένεια. Subsequent editors abandoned the idea (following based on BLÜMEL, I.Rhod.Per., 303 and BRESSON, Recueil Pérée, 5.10–16): ὥστ]ε ἀπὸ̣ τ̣ᾶς π[ο]θ̣όδου γίνεσθαι θυσί|α̣ν τ̣ῶ̣ι Ἀσ̣κλαπιῶι καὶ τοῖς [ἄ]λλοις̣ ̣ θεοῖς τοῖς | περὶ τ̣ὸ[ν Ἀσ]κ̣λ̣α̣πι[ὸν κ]αθ’ [ἕκ]αστον ἐνιαυτὸν | [ἐ]ν μην̣[ὶ — – — – καὶ ἱστιᾶσθ]αι Σ̣υρνίους πάν|τας [ἐν ἇι κα ἁμέρ]α̣ι̣ ἁ [θ]υ[σία] σ̣υ̣ντελῆται, [..]Ν δὲ | [.]ΥΝ[ — – — – — – — –]Ν̣Ι̣Α̣ [Κ]λευσθένει Α|[ — – –. But the orphaned letter at line-end (15) is worrisome and the condition expressed at lines 14–15 might have addressed what the ritual event was to be called: [τὰ]ν δὲ | [σ]υν[θυσίαν (or [σ]υν[αγωγὰν or similar) ποταγορεύει]ν̣ τ̣ὰ̣ [Κ]λευσθένεια. This would comport with the traces that were seen by Blümel, understood by Bresson, and are — just barely — visible in the photograph of the squeeze printed by Fraser and Bean. Thus, the decree would have begun: since Euagis gave money and real-estate (3–9), “so that from the income there may be a sacrifice to Asklepios and the other gods around the Asklepieion each year, in the month of … and so that all the Syrnians may feast on whatever day the sacrifice is held, and so that they may call the sacrifice the Kleustheneia…” (10–15). Similarly: Syll.3 672.52–53: ποταγ[ορ]εύοντες τὰν θυσ[ί]|αν Ἀττάλεια; 60–61: κατευχέστων ποταγορεύοντες τὰν θυσίαν Ἀττά|λεια καθὼς εἴθισται; and the Delphic Eumeneia: Syll.3 671A.20: κατευχέσθωσαν τὰ Εὐμένεια καθὼς νομίζεται; also Leonides’ Pharsalan endowment: I.Thessaly 52.5–6: ὁ δὲ ἀγὼν προσαγορευέσθω | Λεωνίδεια. Euagis’ endowed assets seem to have included a property given to her by her father: I.Rhod.per., 303.7–9: τό τε?] γ̣ε̣ι̣τον̣ε̣ῦον τῶι τεμ[έ|ν]ει τοῦ Ἀσ̣[κλαπιοῦ] κτ̣ῆ̣μ̣α [ὧι] Κλευσθένης παρα̣| — ]ΝΤΙ̣[ — . Perhaps she endowed some or all of her dowry upon his death? We cannot know. But whatever the case, she, like Diomedon or Epikteta or Poseidonios, did not found cult named after herself; if anything, honored though she was, her actions sought to confer honor not on herself but on her father, whose death may have been the occasion of the endowment’s creation. 67. E.g. IG XI.2 224.B.20–21 (258): φιάλη λεία, χ]ορεῖα Δηλιάδων Φιλεταίρου ἐπιδόν|[τος ἐπ’ ἄρχ]οντος Ἐλπίνου (262); 287.B.119 (250): ὧν Φιλέταιρος· ἐφ’ Ἐλπίνου (262) φιάλη Δηλιάδων, χορεῖα ἐπιδόντος Φιλεταίρου. The account is fragmentary but, in 258 the hieropoioi may have counted five dedications, for the years 262–258 BC: IG XI.2 224.A.4 (258): καὶ τοῦ φιλεταιρείου ̣ [ — . 68. R.B. MCSHANE, The Foreign Policy of the Attalids of Pergamum, Urbana, 1964, p. 40, also 43, where it is suggested without argument that the Delian Philetaireia “may better be dated well before 263;” BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 571: “Philétairos mourut la même année 263, mais cela n’empêche pas qu’il ait pu fonder lui-même la fête;” foundation by Philetairos is implicit in E.V. HANSEN, The Attalids of Pergamon, 2nd edition, London, 1971, p. 19, but cf. n. 27; H.‑J. SCHALLES, Untersuchungen zur Kulturpolitik der pergamenischen Herrscher im dritten Jahrhundert vor Christus [= Istanbuler Forschungen 36], Tübingen, 1985, p. 38: “Kurz vor dem Tode des Philetairos im Jahr 263 v.Chr. wurden noch von ihm selbst im Apollonheiligtum von Delos die Philetaireia eingerichtet;” BRINGMANN, Schenkungen, 182[E] p. 226, dates the endowment “nach 263 v. Chr.” but observes, “Die Philetaireia wurden im Jahr 263 gestiftet; in diesem Jahr starb Philetairos, was aber nicht heißen muß, daß das Fest nicht mehr von ihm selbst gestiftet worden ist.” See already T. HOMOLLE, Les archives de l’intendance sacrée à Délos (315–166 av. J.-C.), Paris, 1887, p. 61.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 132

69. E.g. W.A. LAIDLAW, A History of Delos, London, 1933, p. 106; ROSTOVTZEFF, SEHHW III p. 1448 n. 322; R.E. ALLEN, The Attalid Kingdom: A Constitutional History, Oxford, 1983, p. 22 n. 46. 70. IG XI.4 1106: Εὐμένης — – — | Φιλ̣ έταιρον τ̣[ὸν — – — ]. 71. In 240 six phialai were attested, so that the endowment’s creation must have been in 246 and its first dedication in 245; I.Delos 298.A.77–79: ἄλ]λας φιάλας ἐπι|[γραφὴν ἐχούσας· Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα] Ἀπόλ[λωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λητο]ῖ ἐπι[δόν]τος βασιλέως Πτολεμαίου, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Μαντιθέου (245), ἐπὶ [Ξε]νοκράτους (244), [ἐπὶ Δι]ονυσίου (243), ἐπ’ | Ὀρθ̣[ο|κλέους (242), ἐπ’ Ἀγκιθείδου (241), ἐφ’ Ἀκριδίωνος] (240)· ἀριθμὸ[ν φιαλῶν ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολ]εμαίου Ι. On the three Ptolemaic endowments see Bruneau, Recherches 519–523. 72. E.g. W.W. TARN, Antigonos Gonatas, Oxford, 1913, p. 376: “[O]ne of his first acts had been to see that a foundation to celebrate his accession was made at Delos.” 73. IG XI.2 287.B.124; I.Delos 298.A.89–90; 313.a.69–70; 314.B.76–77; 320.B.34–36; 338.Bc.45–48. 74. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 561–562; SCHULHOF, BCH 32 (1908), p. 106. P.M. FRASER, C.H. ROBERTS, CdÉ 24 (1949), p. 292 n. 4 suggested that the honorand was the daughter of Antiochos I and wife of Demetrios II but, as HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia, p. 598, n. 6, observed, she was called basilissa in the Delian accounts (e.g. IG XI.2 287.B.124) and Demetrios II was not king until 239. 75. Plut., Demetr., 31, 3–4; 38, 1–9; 53, 4; on her transfer from father to son: Plut., Demetr., 38, 1–9; App., Syr., 59–61; K. BRODERSEN, “Der Liebeskranke Königssohn und die Seleukidische Herrschaftsauffassung,” Athenaeum 63 (1982), p. 459–469. 76. C. HABICHT, Athènes hellénistique. Histoire de la cité d’Alexandre le Grand à Marc Antoine, transl. M. and D. Knoepfler, Paris, 2000, p. 165 is cautious, as is J.J. GABBERT, Antigonus II Gonatas: A Political Biography (New York 1997), p. 52–53; 255: HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia, p. 595–599; BURASELIS, o.c. (n. 37), p. 146–151; earlier: REGER, AJAH 10 (1985) [1993] p. 155–177; id., Historia 43 (1994), p. 40– 41. 77. K.J. BELOCH, Griechische Geschichte, Berlin/Leipzig, 1927 vol. IV.2, p. 199–200; BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 561–562; HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia, p. 598; REGER, AJAH 10 (1985) [1993] p. 159; CARNEY, Women and Monarchy, p. 171. 78. I.Delos 298.A.83–90: Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀ[ρ]τέμιδι Λητοῖ ὑπὲρ [βασιλίσσης Στρατονίκης; IG XI.2 287.B.124: ἐπὶ Φάνου φιάλη Δηλιάδων, χορεῖα ὑπὲρ βασιλίσσης Στρατονίκης; I.Delos 313.A.69–70: ἄλλαι [φιάλαι Δηλι]άδων, χορεῖα ὑπὲρ βασ[ι]λίσσης vac. | Στρατονίκης. 79. J. SEIBERT, Historische Beiträge zu den dynastischen Verbindungen in hellenistischer Zeit [= Historia Einzelschriften, 10], Wiesbaden, 1967, p. 34–36; CARNEY, Women and Monarchy, p. 184–185, with n. 23 p. 310; TARN, o.c. (n. 72), p. 348. 80. The two conflicting accounts of Stratonike’s flight from Demetrios to Syria are irreconcilable: Agatharchides, FGrHist 86 F 20a; Just., XXVII, 1, 1–4; cf. HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia, p. 322–323; CARNEY, Women and Monarchy, p. 184–186. 81. CARNEY, Women and Monarchy, p. 182–183. 82. The earliest attested phiale comes from 237: I.Delos 320.B.41–42 (229): ἄλλαι φιά[λαι Δηλι| ά]δων, χορεῖα ἐπιδόντος βασιλ[έ]ως Δη[μητ]ρίου, ἐπ’ ἀρχόντων Τιμαγένου. 83. REGER, Historia 43 (1994), p. 55, is surely right to see Antigonid dedications on Delos as part of a family tradition: “Demetrios II and Doson’s connections with the island need prove nothing more than traditional family interest — no Antigonid since Monophthalmos had failed to make dedications or establish festivals on the island — and predictable piety toward a pan-Hellenic sanctuary.” 84. More than half a century before, the league of islanders had created a new festival called the Demetrieia, which was to be celebrated every other year, alternating with the existing Antigoneia. The pair of festivals honored Antigonos Monophthalmos and Demetrios Poliorketes: IG XI.4 1036; cf. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 564–568. They were, however, short-lived, fading before the time of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 133

Antigonos Gonatas and Demetrios II: BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 565–566: “[I]l est à peu près sûr qu’après 280 l’institution des Ptolémaieia entraîna la disparition des Antigoneia-Démétrieia.” Perhaps, in some small way, Demetrios II thought of his endowment as similarly paired with Antigonos Gonatas’, the pair honoring Monophthalmos and Poliorketes as the previous proper festivals had done on grander scale. 85. The hieropoioi in 240 counted nine phialai; I.Delos 298.A.75–77: ἄλ]λας φιάλας ἐπι|[γραφὴν ἐχούσας· Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα Ἀ]πό[λλωνι Ἀ]ρτέμιδι Λητῶι ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολεμαίου, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Βάδρου (248), ἐ[πὶ Παρμε]νίων[ος] (247), ἐπ’ Εἰδοκρίτου (246), | [ἐπὶ Μαντιθέου (245), ἐπὶ Ξενοκράτου (244), ἐπὶ Διο]νυσίο[υ (243), ἐπ’ Ὀρθοκλ]έους (242), ἐπ’ Ἀγκιθείδου (241), ἐφ’ Ἀκριδίωνος (240)· ἀριθμὸν φιαλῶν ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως [Πτολ]εμαίου [ΙΙΙΙ. 86. TARN, o.c. (n. 72), p. 366: “Ptolemy personally had nothing to do but to emphasize his bloodless victory in the eyes of the world by sending his fleet to Delos, in the year 249, and there establishing in Apollo’s honour the foundation which we know as the second Ptolemaieia.” 87. REGER, Historia 43 (1994), p. 45. 88. CHAMPION, l.c. (n. 37), p. 75. Also e.g.. HÖLBL, o.c. (n. 38), p. 45. 89. F. CHAMOUX, “Le roi Magas,” RHist 216 (1956), p. 18–34; O. MØRKHOLM, “Cyrene and Ptolemy I: some Numismatic Comments,” Chiron 10 (1980), p. 145–159, esp. 145–147; W. HUSS, Ägypten in hellenistischer Zeit 332–30 v. Chr., Munich, 2001, p. 202, 333. The principal, and conflicting, sources for the event are: Agatharchides FGrHist 86 F 7; Eusebius, Chron. I, 237–238 (Schoene); Just., Epit. XXVI, 3, 2–8; Paus., I, 6, 8. 90. The earliest attested phiale was dedicated in 267 (archonship of Meilichides); in 250 BC, 17 phialai were counted, plus the one dedicated that year: IG XI.2 287.B.112–119, 128. 91. And apparently the same Halikarnassan to whom Delos awarded proxeny: IG XI.4 565. 92. I.Delos 313.b.63–64: ἄλλαι φιάλαι] Δηλιάδων, χορεῖα | ἐπιδόντος Ἑρμίου Ἀρσινόει Φιλαδέλφωι καὶ Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λητοῖ; 320.B.27–28: ἄλλαι φιάλαι, Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα ἐπιδόν]τος Ἑρμίου Ἀρσινόει Φιλαδ[έλ|φωι], Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λητοῖ, Φιλαδελφείων; and Ptolemy Philadelphos as well, according to one entry: I.Delos 298.A.79–80: [Δ]ηλιάδες, χορεῖα [ἐπιδ]όντος Ἑρμί|[ου τοῦ νησιάρχου Ἀρσινόηι Φιλαδέλ]φοι, Ἀπ̣[όλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λητοῖ καὶ βασιλεῖ Πτο]λ[ε]μαίωι; 314.B.68–69 restored. 93. B. VAN OPPEN DE RUITER, “The Death of Arsinoe II Philadelphus: The Evidence Reconsidered,” ZPE 174 (2010), p. 139–150. For continued reservations about the later date, see E.D. CARNEY, Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon: A Royal Life, Oxford, 2013, p. 100, 104–105. 94. H. HAUBEN, “Arsinoé II et la politique extérieure de l’Égypte,” in E. VAN ‘T DACK et al. (eds.), Egypt and the Hellenistic World: Proceedings of the International Colloquium, Leuven, 24–26 May 1982 [= Studia Hellenistica, 27], Leuven, 1983, p. 99–127, at 111–114, 124–127. Hermias was not the only Ptolemaic naval officer to be devoted to Arsinoe; also the famous Kallikrates of Samos. 95. L. ROBERT, “Sur un décret d’Ilion et sur un papyrus concernant des cultes royaux,” in Essays in Honor of C. Bradford Welles [= AmStudPap, 1], New Haven, 1966, p. 175–211, at 201–202 [= OMS VII, p. 623–632]. See also C. MARQUAILLE, “The Foreign Policy of Ptolemy II,” in P. MCKECHNIE, P. GUILLAUME (eds.), Ptolemy II Philadelphus and his World, Leiden, 2008, p. 39–64, 58–60; A. MEADOWS, “The Ptolemaic League of Islanders,” in K. BURASELIS et al. (eds.), The Ptolemies, The Sea and the Nile: Studies in Waterborne Power, Cambridge, 2013, p. 19–38, 29–30, and H. HAUBEN, “Callicrates of Samos and Patroclus of Macedon,” in the same volume, p. 39–65, 47–48, with citations. 96. Date: BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 521–522. See MEADOWS, l.c. (n. 95), p. 31–32. IG XI.4 1038 preserves a decree of the League of Islanders, proclaiming a crown and honors for Sostratos “at the next (celebration of the) Ptolemaieia on Delos,” (10–17: δεδόχθαι τοῖς συνέδροις· ἐ|παινέσαι μὲ[ν Σώ]στρατον Δεξιφάνους Κνίδιον | ἀρετῆς ἕνεκα [καὶ εὐν]οίας ἧς ἔχων διατελεῖ | ἐμ παντὶ καιρῶι εἰς [τὸν β]ασιλέα Πτολεμαῖον | καὶ τοὺς νησιώτας καὶ σ[τεφα]νῶσαι αὐτὸν χρυ|σῶι στεφάνωι ἀπὸ δραχμ[ῶν ἀλ]εξανδρείων | τρισχιλίων καὶ ἀνακηρῦξαι τὸν [σ]τέφανον [τοῖς] | πρώτοις

Kernos, 27 | 2014 134

Πτολεμαιείοις ἐν Δήλωι); often mistranslated “at the first Ptolemaieia.” Whatever this festival entailed, it was a League affair, perhaps referred to in the Nikouria decree, in which the Islanders observe that they have already accorded Soter honors equal to those given to gods (IG XII.7 506.26–28): πρό|[σήκ]ει πᾶσι τοῖς νησιώταις τετιμηκόσιμ πρ[ότε|ρον τ]ὸν σωτῆρα Πτολεμαῖον ἰσοθέοις τιμαῖ[ς]. Neither of these refers to the ritual underwritten by the first of the Ptolemaic endowments, contemporary though it was. 97. Memnon FGrHist 434 F 8 (12); Just., XVII, 2, 4–15; XXIV, 1, 1–5, 7. 98. Just., XVII, 2; XXIV, 2–3; S.M. BURSTEIN, “Arsinoe II Philadelphos: A Revisionist View,” in W.L. ADAMS and E.N. BORZA (eds.), Philip II, Alexander the Great, and the Macedonian Heritage, Washington, 1982, p. 197–212, at 200 [= S.M. BURSTEIN, Graeco-Africana: Studies in the History of Greek Relations with Egypt and Nubia, New Rochelle, 1995, p. 77–95]. Cf. HUSS, o.c. (n. 89),p. 305–306. Precisely when she dedicated there the rotunda to the Great Gods is a vexed issue. The dedication is fragmentary at the very spot where it would tell us the name of her husband (IG XII.8 227): [βασ]ίλισσα Ἀρ̣[σινόη βασιλέως Πτολε]μ̣αίου θυγά[τηρ] | βασιλέω̣[ς Λυσιμάχου γυνὴ εὐχὴν Θ]εοῖς Μεγάλ[οις] (see FRASER, Samothrace II.1: The Inscriptions on Stone, no.10; OGIS 15; BRINGMANN, Schenkungen, 236[E]]; re-edited by G. ROUX in J.R. MCCREDIE et al. (eds.), Samothrace VII: The Rotunda of Arsinoe, Princeton, 1992, p. 231–239. If Arsinoe was here the wife of Lysimachos, the dedication must have taken place before his death in 281. See: E.g. S.G. COLE, Theoi Megaloi: The Cult of the Great Gods at Samothrace [= EPRO, 96], Leiden, 1984, p. 22; BURSTEIN, in Philip II…, p. 199; H.S. LUND, Lysimachus: A Study in Early Hellenistic Kingship, London and New York, 1992, p. 168; BRINGMANN, Schenkungen, 236[E] p. 265. A. FRAZER, Samothrace X: The Propylon of Ptolemy II, Princeton, 1990 vol. I p. 143, 227–233; CARNEY, l.c. (n. 93), p. 38. It has also been suggested, however, that she dedicated the structure after she had gone to Egypt and become queen and wife of Ptolemy II: ROUX , Samothrace VII, p. 231–239; MEADOWS, l.c. (n. 95), p. 29. 99. H. HAUBEN, Callicrates of Samos: A Contribution to the Study of the Ptolemaic Admiralty; with a Samian Inscription Published in Appendix by Günter Dunst [= Studia Hellenistica, 18], Leuven, 1970, p. 67. 100. IG XI.2 161.B.54–55 (279): στέφανος δάφνης χρυσοῦς, Καλλικράτους ἀνάθημ[α], | ὁλκὴν δραχμαὶ ΔΔ; 89–90: στέφανος δάφνης χρυσοῦς, Καλλικρ[ά|τ]ους ἀνάθημα, ὁλκὴν δραχμαὶ ΔΔΔΔ; HAUBEN, o.c. (n. 99), p. 26–27. In the following year the hieropoioi inventoried a single crown whose weight was nearly equivalent to the combined weight of the two crowns (IG XI.2 162.B.44): στέφανος χρυσοῦς Καλλικράτους ἀνάθημα, ὁλκὴ ΔΙΙΙ; this peculiarity and the fact that the heavier of the two crowns seems to have disappeared from the inventories after 278 (see table at HAUBEN, ibid., p. 26) remain unexplained. 101. HAUBEN, o.c. (n. 99), p. 26–31, proposed a possible visit in 308 (or perhaps 294 or 287) as the probable occasion. 102. For speculation that she might not have returned until perhaps as late as 276 see CARNEY, l.c. (n. 93), p. 63, 66, 70. 103. IG XI.2 199.B.69 (274): καὶ ἄλλην λείαν Δηλιάδων, χορεῖα ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολεμαίου, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Φίλλιδος (275)· καὶ ἐπ’ Ἀντιγόνου ἄρχοντος (274), χορεῖα ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολεμαίου; 91–92: χορεῖα ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως | Πτολεμαίου ΙΙΙΙ; cf. BRINGMANN, Schenkungen, 151[E]. 104. I.Delos 298.70–75 (240): ἄλλας φιάλας ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολεμαί[ου, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Σωσιμάχου (276), ἐπὶ Τηλεμνήστου (271)], | [ἐπὶ Μειλιχίδου (270), ἐπὶ Χαρίλα (269), ἐπὶ Καλλί]μου, (268) ἐπὶ Πολύβου (264), ἐπ’ Ἀρχεδάμα (263), ἐφ’ Ἐλπίνου (262), ἐπὶ Θαρσύνοντος (261) ἐπ’ Ἀμφικλέους (260), ἐπὶ [Φ??????? (259)ίλλιδος (259), ἐπὶ Τυννάδου (258), ἐπὶ Θεοπ]ρώτ[ου] (257), | [ἐπ’ Ἀντιχάρου (256), ἐπ’ Ἀντιγόνου (255), ἐπὶ Πάχητος (254), ἐπ’] Ἀναξιθέμιδος (253), ἐπὶ Φάνου (252), ἐπ’ Ἀρτυσίλεω (251), ἐπὶ Σωσισθένους (250), ἐπ’ Ἀρχία (249), ἐπὶ Βάδρου (248), ἐπὶ [Π???αρμενίωνος (247), ἐπ’ Εἰδοκρίτου (246)], ἐπὶ Μα[ν|τιθέου (245),

Kernos, 27 | 2014 135

ἐπὶ Ξενοκράτου (244), ἐπὶ Διονυσίου (243), ἐπ’ Ὀρθ]οκλέους (242), ἐπ’ Ἀγκιθείδου (241), ἐπ’ Ἀκριδίωνος (240)· ἄλλην ἐπιστατοῦντος Ξένωνος· ἄλλην ἐπιστ[ατοῦντος Τηλεμνήστου]· ἄλλην ἐ| [πιστατοῦντος Μενύλλου· ἄλλην ἐπιστατοῦν]τος Μνησιμάχου· ἄλλην ἐπιστατοῦντος Σκύμνου· ἄλλην ἐπιστατοῦντος Ἱερομβρότ[ου· ἄλλην ἐπιστα]τοῦντος Διοδό|[τοῦ· ἄλλην ἐπιστατοῦντος Πολύβου· ἄλλην οὔτε ἄ]ρχοντα οὔτε ἐπιστάτην ἔχουσαν· φιάλαι αἱ πᾶσαι ἐπιδόντος βασιλέως Πτολε[μαίου ΔΔΔΙΙΙΙ. 105. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 522. 106. Just., Epit. XXIV, 3, 1–8. 107. HUSS, o.c. (n. 89), p. 307–308 with n. 22; ca September 279: M. WÖRRLE, “Epigraphische Forschungen zur Geschichte Lykiens II: Ptolemaios II. und Telmessos,” Chiron 8 (1978), p. 201–246, at 212–216 [SEG XXVIII 1224]; earlier bibliography at HAUBEN, o.c. (n. 99), p. 35 with n. 3. 108. Whether one thinks she was the driving force behind much Ptolemaic policy or not: BURSTEIN, l.c. (n. 98), p. 197–212 [= Graeco-Africana,p. 77–95]; on the earlier period of her life see E.D. CARNEY, “Arsinoë before she was Philadelphus,” AHB 8 (1994), p. 123–131. 109. Following L. NERWINSKI, The Foundation Date of the Panhellenic Ptolemaea and Related Problems in Early Ptolemaic Chronology, diss. Duke University, 1981, p. 30–41, 107–108, and passim. A vexed puzzle. See e.g. B. DREYER, Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des spätklassischen Athen (322-ca. 230 v. Chr.) [= Historia, Einzelschr. 137], Stuttgart, 1999, p. 206–207, with citations. 110. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 557–561. Earliest dated phialai are dated to 244. I.Delos 298.A.85–86 (240): ἄλλας φιάλας] ἐπιγραφὴν ἐχούσας· βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος βασιλέως Δημ[ητρίου Μακεδὼν θεοῖς σωτῆρσι, ἐπ’] ἄρχοντος Ξενο[κρά|τους (244), ἐπὶ Διονυσίου (243), ἐ]π’ Ὀρθοκλέους (242), ἐ[π’ Ἀγκιθείδου (241), ἐφ’ Ἀκρι]δίωνος (240); I.Delos 298.A.86–87: ἄλλας φιάλας ἐπιγραφὴν ἐχού]σας· βασι[λ]εὺς Ἀν[τί|γονος βασιλέ]ως Δημητρίου Μ[ακεδὼν Πανί, ἐπ’ ἄρ]χοντος Ξενοκράτους, <ἐπὶ Διονυσίου>, ἐπ’ Ὀρθο[κ]λέους, ἐπ’ Ἀγκιθείδου, [ἐφ’ Ἀκριδίωνος. 111. REGER, Historia 43 (1994), p. 44–45 (“it is virtually certain that the Paneia and Soteria founded in 245 B.C. by Gonatas commemorated his victory over the Egyptian fleet at Andros”); BURASELIS, o.c. (n. 37), p. 144–145 and in The Hellenistic Polis of Kos, p. 17; CAH VII2.1 p. 248–249 (with caution). Apparent in both specialist and general works: e.g. B. HINTZEN-BOLLEN, Herrscherrepräsentation im Hellenismus: Untersuchungen zu Weihgeschenken, Stiftungen und Ehrenmonumenten in den mutterländischen Heiligtümern Delphi, Olympia, Delos und Dodona, Köln, 1992, p. 106–107; HAMMOND – WALBANK, Macedonia, p. 587–595, esp. 593–594; R. LANE FOX, “ ‘Glorious Servitude…’ The Reigns of Antigonos Gonatas and Demetrios II,” in R.J. LANE FOX (ed.), Ancient Macedon: Studies in the Archaeology and History of Macedon, 650 BC–300 AD, Leiden, 2011, p. 495–520, 516–517. Cautious: G. NACHTERGAEL, Les Galates en Grèce et les Sôteriá de Delphes. Recherches d’histoire et d’épigraphie hellénistiques, Bruxelles, 1977, p. 180. 112. CHAMPION, l.c. (n. 37), p. 72–88; WILL, o.c. (n. 22), p. 323. 113. Plut., Arat., 17, 2–5; Polyainos, Strat. IV, 6, 1; quote: CARNEY, Women and Monarchy, p. 188. 114. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 559. 115. E.g. I.Delos 366.A.64–89 passim. 116. Same, less well preserved at I.Delos 379.11 [φιάλη, ἐπὶ Καλλία, βασιλε]ὺς Ἀντίγονος Δη[μητρίου Μακεδὼν Πάνεια, ἐπιστάτου Ἐμπέδου]. 117. And at 379, 11 as well. 118. I.Delos 297.Β.62–63: ἄλλας φιάλας] ἐπιγρα[φὴν ἐχούσας· βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος βασιλέως Δημητρίου Μακεδὼν θεοῖς Σωτῆρσιν, ἐπ’ ἄρχον|τος Ξενοκράτους…; 298.Α.85–86: ἄλλας φιάλας] ἐπιγραφὴν ἐχούσας· βασιλεὺς Ἀντίγονος βασιλέως Δημ[ητρίου Μακεδὼν θεοῖς σωτῆρσι, ἐπ’] ἄρχοντος Ξενο[κρά|τους…. 119. Here in the singular agreeing in gender with [ἄλ]λη (φιάλη), a “phiale of thank-offering;” above, in the plural the “other phialai” were “thank-offerings,” in the neuter. See I.Delos 442.B.66

Kernos, 27 | 2014 136

where a single phiale is called a eutycheios (a two-termination feminine nominative), whereas multiples were eutycheia. 120. BRUNEAU, Recherches, p. 559. 121. See I.Delos 421.68: φιάλη, βασιλέως] Ἀντιγόνου, ἐπιστατοῦντος Ὠκυνεί[δ]ου; 422.20: φιάλη, ἐ]π’ ἄρχον[τ]ος Πανταίνου, βασιλέ[ως Ἀντιγόνου ἀνάθεμα, ἐπιστατοῦντος Ὠκυνείδου]; 439.A.40: φιάλη, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Πανταίνου, βασιλέ]ως Ἀντιγόνου ἀνάθεμα, ἐπιστατοῦντος Ὠκυνείδου; 442.B. 42: φιάλη, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Πανταίνου, βασιλέως Ἀντιγόνου ἀνάθεμα, ἐπιστατοῦντος Ὠκυνείδου. 122. I.Delos 366.A.75: ἄλλην Πτολεμαιείων· ἐπ’ Ἀντικράτου Σωτηρίων· ἐπ’ Ἀπολλο[δ]ώρου Δονακείων; 82: ἄλλ[ην Παν]είων· ἄλλην Σωτηρίων· ἄλλην Φιλιππείων. 123. IG XI.4 559.22–24 (ca 280): θῦσα]ι Σωτήρια ὑπὲρ Φιλοκλέους | ἐν Δήλωι Ἀπόλλ[ωνι καὶ Ἀρτέμιδι καὶ Λητοῖ] καὶ Διὶ Σωτῆρι | [κα]ὶ Ἀθηνᾶι Σ[ω]τ̣ε̣ί̣ρ̣α̣ι̣. 124. I.Delos 338.A.41: λαμπάδες τῶι χορῶι τῶν Σωτηρίων ΙΙ. 125. A. MOMIGLIANO, P. FRASER, “A New Date for the Battle of Andros? A Discussion,” CQ 44 (1950), p. 107–118, 115. 126. Much too much so, I urge, to have been the occasion of special Antigonid coin issues, for which see PANAGOPOULOU, in Hellenistic Economies, p. 263; ead., Antigonos Gonatas: Coinage, Money and the Economy, diss. University College London, 2000, p. 100, 188, 190, 288. I. KRALLI, “The Date and Context of Divine Honours for Antigonos Gonatas — A Suggestion,” in O. PALAGIA, S.V. TRACY (eds.), The Macedonians in Athens, 322–229 B.C.: Proceedings of an International Conference held at the University of Athens, May 24–26, 2001, Oxford, 2003, p. 61–66, 66, frames the putative Paneia and Soteria as part of the “context” for Antigonos’ receipt of divine honors: “To sum up: In the framework of events suggested above the terminus post quem for the isotheoi timai conferred upon Antigonos Gonatas should be the end of the war against Alexandros ca. 245 or earlier since Alexandros’ death occurred ca. 245…. Finally, we could set the divine honours in a broader context. Following the dating suggested above, the divine honours would be more or less contemporaneous with the vase festivals Paneia and Soteria established on Delos by Antigonos Gonatas in 246/5, after his naval victory at Andros over Ptolemy III. In the present state of our evidence we cannot establish a precise chronological sequence, i.e. whether the divine honours postdated or antedated the battle of Andros; in any case, it is notable that the mid-240s witnessed outstanding celebrations of Antigonos Gonatas’ glory.” 127. REGER, Historia 43 (1994), p. 44. 128. Belief in such extends well beyond specialized scholarship on Delos per se; see e.g. SCOTT, o.c. (n. 36),p. 59–60; MIKALSON, o.c. (n. 44), p. 212; H. VERSNEL, Coping with the Gods: Wayward Readings in Greek Theology, Leiden, 2011, p. 133, referring to “the temple and cult for Aphrodite at Delos founded by a prominent citizen Stesileos (late 4th c. BC). The cult named after him was continued by his descendants into the second century and was a serious rival of the official Delian Aphrodite cult.” STAVRIANOPOULOU, o.c. (n. 15),p. 230–231. 129. I.Delos 290.151: Ὠ]φελίωνι ἐργολαβήσαντι τῆς Ἀφροδίτης τὸ ἄγαλμα ἧς ἀνέθηκε Στησίλεως ἐγκαῦσαι καὶ ἐπικοσμῆσαι. 130. I.Delos 290.153: Ζωΐλωι ἐγλαβόντι τῆς Ἀφροδίτης ἧς ἀνέθηκε Στησίλεως τὸν ναὸν κονιάσαι. The text does not say e.g. Ζωΐλωι ἐγλαβόντι τὸν ναὸν τῆς Ἀφροδίτης ὃν ἀνέθηκε Στησίλεως κονιάσαι. 131. DURVYE, RA (2009), p. 200, suggests even that the adjacent oikos (1) may have housed phialai dedicated via the stesileion; but in that case the state would have been using private property to store dedications to a civic deity, which does not seem likely. She suggests also that the building may have been the seat of banquets. If there were such, they were not hosted as part of an endowed eponymous Stesileia. 132. See e.g. J.D. SOSIN, “Unwelcome Dedications: Public Law and Private Religion in Hellenistic Laodicea by the Sea,” CQ 55 (2005), p. 130–139, 135–139.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 137

133. Even if Stesileos had paid for the temple, for which there is no evidence, he no more owned it after the fact of construction and dedication than, for example, Antigonos Gonatas owned the stoa that he dedicated on Delos; for which: Guide de Délos4, no. 29; IG XI.4 1095; BRINGMANN, Schenkungen, 128[A]. 134. The endowment of Agasikles and Nikagora funded sacrifice on an altar set up in front of their images near/in front of the bouleuterion: IG IV 841.23–24 [ LAUM, Stiftungen, 58]: βωμὸν ἑσσάμενοι πρὸ τᾶν ε|ἰκόνων αὐτῶν τᾶν ποὶ [τ]ῶι β̣ουλευτηρίωι. 135. If Stesileos was archon in 305 BC, he can hardly have been very much younger than 35. His son Diodotos was already of age in the 280s (VIAL, Délos indépendante, p. 75, stemma XI); if he was born not later than roughly 315, to a recently wed father, and if Stesileos was roughly 35 at the time, then he will have been born ca 350. This will have put the birth of Stesileos’ father Diodotos in the neighborhood of 385. Thus, when Stesileos created the endowment in 302 he will have been approaching 50 and his father will have been perhaps in his 80s, if alive. If Stesileos married around the age of 30 or 40 (so ca. 320–310) and if his daughter Echenike was born within a decade of that date, then she will have been roughly 50–60 when she established her own endowment in 250 BC. The occasion of its creation will not have been the death of her father, who, if alive, would have been roughly 100 at the time. If Stesileos at, 30–40, married (ca. 320–310) the woman, at 15–20 years (and so b. ca. 340–325), who would become Echenike’s mother, then in 250 Echenike’s mother may have been around 75 to 90 years old. These are very crude reckonings, but they suggest (certainly no more) that the deaths of Stesileos’ father and Echenike’s mother — both of whom will have been quite long-lived — just might have been occasions motivating the creation of these endowments 136. I.Delos 298.A.88–90: ἄλλας φιάλας ἐπ[ιγραφὴν ἐχούσας]· Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀ[ρ]τέμιδι Λητοῖ ὑπὲρ [βασιλίσσης Στρατονίκης, ἐπ’ ἄρχοντος Φ]άνου, ἐπ’ Ἀρτυσίλεω, | [ἐπὶ Σωσισθέν]ους, ἐπ’ Ἀρχία, ἐπὶ Β[άδρου, ἐπὶ Παρμεν]ίωνος, ἐπ’ Εἰδοκρίτου, ἐπὶ Μαντιθέου, ἐπὶ Ξενοκ[ράτους, ἐπ’ Ὀρθοκλέους, ἐπ’ Ἀγκιθείδου, ἐφ’ Ἀκριδί]ωνος· ἀριθμὸν φιαλῶν | [ἐπιδούσης β]ασιλίσσης Στρα[τονίκης ΔΙΙ. 137. I.Delos 313.b.63–64: ἄλλαι φιάλαι] Δηλιάδων, χορεῖα | ἐπιδόντος Ἑρμίου Ἀρσινόει Φιλαδέλφωι καὶ Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λητοῖ. 138. Hence, e.g., I.Delos 298.A.92–93: Δηλιάδες, χορεῖα Ἀπόλλωνι Ἀρτέμιδι Λη]τοῖ ἐπιδό[ν|τος Φιλεταίρ]ου. 139. I.Delos 316.88: Φιλοκλείοις τῶι χορῶι δᾶιδες ·̣̣̣̣ΙΙ· [ξύλα —]· ῥυμ[οὶ — — —; IG XI.2 287.57: καὶ Φιλοκλείοις καὶ ῥυμὸς καὶ κληματίδες ΙΙ; see also restored or partly: I.Delos 290.71; 337.Α.32. See also lamps “for the Antigoneia:” IG XI.2 287.A.48: λαμπάδες Ἀντιγονείοις εἰς τὸν χορὸν . The Antigoneia mentioned at IG XI.2 154.A.42 (296) are a different thing: τοῖς Ἀντιγονείοις δᾶιδες εἰς τὸγ χορὸν· [. .]. 140. I.Delos 316.77–80: ἔλαιον καὶ ἐλλύχνια τοῖς φανοῖς ·· ξύλα ·◌̣Ι◌̣ΙΙΙ· πεντεκαιδεκάτει τῶι χορῶι δᾶιδες ··ῥυμὸς ·Ι/· [ξ]ύλα ·Ι/̣· [— — —· Πτολεμαι?]|εί̣ων τῶι χορῶι ῥυμὸς ·ΙΙΙ· λανπάδες ·ΙΙΙΙ[· ξ]ύλα ·Ι◌̣Ι◌̣· ἔλαιον, ἐλλύχνια τοῖς φανοῖς ·· Ἀντιγ[ον]είων τῶι χορῶι [λαμπάδες —· ῥυμοὶ —· ξύλα —· ἔλα]|[ι]ον καὶ ἐλλύχνια τοῖς φανοῖς ·· εἰς ἱεροπόιον ἐ[λαίου] χόιες· ΙΙΙΙ· δραχμῶν · Δημητριείων τῶι χο[ρ]ῶι λαμπάδες [—· ῥυμοὶ —· ξύλα —· ἔλα]|ιον καὶ ἐλλύχνια τοῖς φανοῖς ·· Πτολεμαίων τ[ῶι χ]ορῶι λαμπάδες ··; I.Delos 338.A.23–25: [δάφναι καὶ μυρρίναι ἐπὶ βωμοὺς —]· λαμπ[άδ]ες τῶι [χ]ορῶι ΙΙΙ· ῥυμοί, κλ[ημα]τίδες ΙΙΙΙ· Πτολεμαιέων τῶι χορ[ῶ]ι λαμπάδες ΙΙ· ῥυμοί, κληματίδες ΙΙ | [Δημητριείων τῶι χορῶι λαμπάδες —]· ῥυμοί, κλη[μα]τίδες ΙΙΙ· Ἀντιγονείων τῶ[ι χορῶ]ι λαμπάδες ΙΙΙ· ῥυμοί, κλημ[α]τίδες ΙΙΙ· Πτολεμαιέων τῶι χορῶι λαμπά|[δες. The dative and genitive constructions appear in proximity in the same accounts, without any apparent difference in meaning; see e.g. I.Delos 316.88–89: Φιλοκλείοις τῶι χορῶι δᾶιδες ·◌̣̣̣̣ΙΙ· …|… Πτολεμαίων τῶι χορῶι δ̣ᾶ̣ιδες κα̣[ὶ ῥυμοὶ? —]. 141. I.Delos 316.99: Ἀφροδισίων [τ]ῶι χορῶι ῥυμοὶ ·ΙΙΙΙ.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 138

142. IG XI.2 154.A.22–23: εἰς τὸ[γ] χορὸν τοῖς Ἀ[ρ]τε[μι]|σίοις δᾶιδες· Ι̣Ι· ξύλα καὶ vac. ῥυμὸς· ΙΙΙΙ· τῆι ὀγδόηι δᾶιδες· ̣; 161.A.93–94: εἰς τοὺς χοροὺς τοὺς γενομένους τοῖς Λητ<ώ>ιοις καὶ τοῖς Ἀρτεμισίοις καὶ τὸν τῆι ὀγδόηι δᾶιδες παρὰ Λυσίο[υ] | καὶ Ἐργοτέλους · 143. I.Delos 316.77: πεντεκαιδεκάτει τῶι χορῶι δᾶιδες ··.

ABSTRACTS

Second-century BC Delos saw the creation of more than two dozen endowments, by men and women, Delians and aliens, and, most famously, Hellenistic royalty or their agents. Scholars agree that these underwrote festivals (mostly eponymous: The Antigoneia, Eutycheia, Philonideia, Ptolemaieia, Stesileia, etc.), and have focused on the political motivation, purpose, and effects of the dozen or so royal specimens. This paper suggests that we have misconstrued the Greek of the Delian accounts; that the endowments did not fund eponymous festivals per se, but modest recurring ritual that was established on the occasion of significant family events, especially marriage and death; that this peculiar Delian phenomenon has more to say about authentic piety than grand politics, and more in common with Hellenistic family cult than festival culture.

Au IIe siècle avant notre ère, Délos a vu se créer près de vingt-cinq fonds, par des hommes et des femmes, Déliens et étrangers, et, un cran plus haut dans la célébrité, par des rois hellénistiques ou leurs agents. Les chercheurs s’accordent à penser que ces fonds permettaient d’organiser des fêtes (surtout éponymes : Antigoneia, Eutycheia, Philonideia, Ptolemaieia, Stesileia, etc.), et se sont concentrés sur la motivation politique, sur les objectifs et les effets de la douzaine de cas royaux. Cet article fait l’hypothèse que le grec des comptes déliens a été mal interprété ; les fonds ne finançaient pas des fêtes éponymes en soi, mais la récurrence modeste de rituels qui étaient établis à l’occasion d’événements familiaux importants, comme les mariages et les décès ; ce phénomène délien particulier a davantage à dire sur la véritable piété que sur la grande politique, et il offre davantage de points communs avec le culte familial hellénistique qu’avec la culture des fêtes.

AUTHOR

JOSHUA D. SOSIN Department of Classical Studies Duke University, Box 90103 US – DURHAM, NC 27713–0103 [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 139

Dedications to Double Deities Syncretism or simply syntax?

Jenny Wallensten

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I wish to thank the participants in the Third International Martin P. Nilsson Workshop on Greek Religion, In Search of Syncretism, for their valuable comments during the discussions. I am especially grateful to Dr. Maria Mili and Prof. Robert Parker, who commented on the manuscript in previous stages. The comments of the anonymous Kernos reviewers considerably improved the article and I thank them sincerely.

Composite deities and syncretism

1 Among the myriads of deities represented in the Greek epigraphic corpus can be found what might be called composite or double deities. These can initially be divided into two basic categories: firstly, non-cross-cultural composites gods such as Hera Aphrodite of Sparta or Zeus Ares of Arcadia1 and secondly, “international” multi- cultural combinations such as for example Isis Aphrodite.2 The present article focuses on three Delian votive inscriptions honouring gods of the latter category, where deities of different cultures are combined.3 In one instance, more than two gods seem to be juxtaposed, and all three cases include not only divine names, but also cult epithets. These elaborate examples come from Hellenistic Delos and introduce the complex Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania, or Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania Epekoos,4 and the even more complicated divine hybrid Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos, a goddess joined in worship to the male combination Eros Harpokrates Apollon.5 As might be expected, these deities have often been called syncretistic gods. Corinne Bonnet has for example named the Isis-Astarte-Aphrodite a “henotheistic and syncretistic divinity”6 and Petra Pakkanen sees such combination gods as an introductory step in the process of syncretism; she refers to the phenomenon as a parallelization of gods.7 Other scholars speak of assimilation, identification or even

Kernos, 27 | 2014 140

simply a translation of gods of different cultures: these are three other terms often used within the complex of phenomena referred to as syncretism. In the present article I will discuss the three case inscriptions in the context of this terminology and try to deepen the understanding of the character of the composite divinities in question. Is the syncretistic quality of a god like Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos as clear as a mere glance on the combination of divine names from different cultural spheres indicates?

2 In the field of ancient Greek religion, the much studied term syncretism has mostly (and justly) been treated as a problematic concept due to its lack of a clear definition. In an attempt to deal with this, at a 1971 symposium, Pierre Lévêque presented five kinds of syncretisms he identified within the religions of antiquity.8 This article became much quoted, if not always in agreement. For example, in 1993, the Centre International d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique organized a symposium on syncretism with an expressed goal of trying to define the concept more clearly. When the proceedings were published a year later, the introduction was in the main — on the explicit invitation of Lévêque — a pertinent critique of his previous classification, in which the majority of Lévêque’s categories was questioned.9 What the editors A. Motte and V. Pirenne-Delforge however did retain for the definition of “true” syncretisms, was the criterion that the outcome of a meeting between two initially foreign ingredients, be they iconographical, conceptual or other, should be a new entity with distinctive characteristics. Motte and Pirenne-Delforge underlined that if a religious phenomenon were to qualify as a syncretism, the end product had to be something more than its constituent parts.10 Moreover, influential studies in Greek religion have underlined that syncretism is a process and should perhaps even be seen as a system of its own: this was Luther Martin’s response to the scholarly exasperation expressed over the seemingly chaotic and unorganized world of Hellenistic and Roman religion.11 In the present study, Motte and Pirenne-Delforge’s criteria are kept for the discussion of whether we automatically should refer to an Isis Astarte Aphrodite as a “syncretistic god”.

The three inscriptions

IDélos 1719

Φιλόστρατος Φιλοστράτου Ἀσκαλωνίτης τραπεζιτεύω[ν] ἐν Δήλωι, ὑπὲρ τῆς Ἀσκαλωνι- τῶν πόλεως καὶ ἑαυτοῦ καὶ γυναικὸς καὶ τέ[κνων Ἀ]σ̣τάρ̣[τηι] [Παλαιστινῆι Ο]ὐ̣ρ̣[α]νία̣[ι] Ἀ[φρ]οδίτηι 3 The first case inscription is IDélos 1719, carved on a round marble altar towards the end of the second century B.C.E.12 The altar was dedicated to Astarte Palaistine Ourania Aphrodite, by Philostratos, son of Philostratos from Ascalon,13 working as a banker in Delos, for the benefit of the polis of the Ascalonites, himself, his wife and children. The name of the recipient deity is somewhat restored, but safely so against the background of the second case inscription, IDélos 2305. It can be noted that the epithet Ourania stands before the name of the Greek deity, Aphrodite.14

Kernos, 27 | 2014 141

IDélos 2305

Διὶ Οὐρίωι καὶ Ἀστάρτηι Παλαιστινῆι Ἀφροδίτηι Οὐρανίαι, θεοῖς ἐπηκόοις, Δάμων Δημητρίου Ἀσκαλωνίτης σωθεὶς ἀπὸ πειρατῶν, εὐχήν. οὐ θεμιτὸν δὲ προσάγειν α̣ἴγειον, ὑικόν, βοὸς θηλείας. 4 Through this votive inscription, another man of Ascalon, Damon son of Demetrios, presents a dedication to Zeus Ourios (Zeus of the Fair Wind)15 and Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania, theoi epekooi.16 It is indeed fortunate that two inscriptions naming this goddess have been found, not only because of the restoration of the missing word Palaistine, but also because of the clearly readable kai in IDélos 2305. Without this kai, it would be more or less impossible to identify Astarte Aphrodite as a single deity.17 Her name might just as well be read as two separate recipient deities: Astarte Palaistine and Aphrodite Ourania. (This mistake that was actually done in the first publication of the inscription.)18 In other similar cases, when neither the wording, nor the epigraphic layout or our previous knowledge of Greek religion offers further clues, this can clearly become an editorial problem.19 In the cases examined here, however, the inserted and between the male and female god certainly indicates that we should understand Astarte-Aphrodite as one goddess, and not two distinct deities. Moreover, the placing of kai as actually defining this juxtaposition of goddesses as a single recipient deity (at least in the Delian cases at hand) is further corroborated by the third case study examined for this paper. This is a votive inscription carved on a marble base and presented by Andromachos, son of Phanomachos, to Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos and Eros Harpokrates Apollon (IDélos 2132).20

IDélos 2132

Ἴσιδι Σωτείραι Ἀστάρτει Ἀφροδίτηι Εὐπλοίαι ἐπ[ηκόωι] καὶ Ἔρωτι Ἁρφοκράτει Ἀπόλλωνι, Ἀνδρόμαχος Φανομάχου [ὑπὲρ ἑαυτοῦ] καὶ γυναικὸς καὶ τέκνων χαριστήριον. 5 The exact date of the inscription is not known, but a terminum post quem of 166 or rather 140 B.C.E. has been given by Mora, who furthermore tentatively identifies the dedicator Andromachos Phanomachou with an Andromachos of Antiocheia, and as the father of another Andromachos active in Delos, who is known for contributions to the sanctuary of the Syrian goddess.21 The placing of the kai as a divider is clearly not fortuitous: it creates a divine pair as recipient deities. It can thus be established that an analysis of these deities is possible, since they are in fact composites, and not simply the result of the epigraphical editing process.

Association and assimilation

6 Quite a lot of examples where two gods from originally different cultures are combined can be brought forth. Isis Aphrodite and Isis Demeter could be named and perhaps even more famously Zeus Ammon.22 Two terms that often figure in connection with these double gods are association and assimilation. The term association is hardly ever

Kernos, 27 | 2014 142

defined, but appears to be the more vague concept of the two. In the context of Greek religion it is usually taken to mean the approaching of one deity to another, or, for that matter, of a mortal to a deity. Deities are associated through the iconographic use of the other deity’s attributes, through shared temples or perhaps iconographic physical proximity such as statuary juxtapositions. Association is thus a term that is fairly safe to use, since it does not indicate an interpretative result but rather states the obvious. It can for example be safely said that in this paper’s three case inscriptions, Astarte is associated with Aphrodite, and Isis with both these deities, physically on the stone and somehow in the mind of the dedicators. But this does not take us very far in terms of understanding the composites. Why are these gods associated? Why especially these gods and not others, and fundamentally, what is the result of the association?

7 Association is usually seen as a precursor of “real” syncretism. Assimilation, on the other hand, is a word that does point to a result, an end product such as a syncretism, since it can amount to full identification. A double divinity such as Isis Aphrodite or a combination mortal-immortal like Arsinoë Aphrodite can no longer be easily separated into “components”, be they mortal or immortal, but is treated like a single recipient deity.23 But what does this mean in practice? The appearance of a wholly new god, celebrated through new rituals, with new priesthoods, with a new iconography? It is important to stress that in the concept of assimilation should be understood that one of the constituent parts is assimilated to, or into, the other, or that they together are assimilated into each other. If we accept this, then at least two basic outcomes are imaginable. The first is that two gods are assimilated into each other and become a distinct divine complex, which then would amount to a new, syncretistic, god: an end product that is something more than its constituent parts, as proposed by Motte and Pirenne-Delforge, or, in Assmann’s words, a “merging which coexists with the original distinct entities”.24 Isis Aphrodite could be taken as example. Worship of Isis Aphrodite as one distinct deity is attested on several occasions and in a variety of geographical contexts. Besides dedications, a priesthood attached to the cult of Isis Aphrodite is probably attested in Perinthos.25 In this case, we can furthermore suggest something about the character of the double goddess. The two original goddesses have an obvious meeting point in their respective marine aspects, and it appears that this common denominator became the main characteristic of the combination Isis Aphrodite, whose worship significantly is attested on islands and in cities with important ports.26 Each goddess here contributes with her maritime competence, and thus, through accumulation, this new deity becomes a more specialized god then the original constituent parts.27 The consequence of such a “mutual” assimilation, i.e., when two gods are assimilated into each other, would then in fact be a new deity, certainly so when this double god is offered worship repeatedly. It should be stressed that the result of such a syncretism is not that all outlines between the components Isis and Aphrodite are dissolved, although the new god is treated as a single recipient deity. The goddesses’ two separate identities still exist, but made transparent to allow the new syncretistic god to take centre stage.28

8 There is however another possible outcome of assimilation, namely that one of the combined gods becomes the other, who thus retains an original identity, but is enriched by the identity of the first. This could be compared with one kind of what Robert Parker has called internal, that is, intra-Greek syncretism, where a major and a minor deity are combined. The mightier god enfolds the other, and keeps his or her

Kernos, 27 | 2014 143

name as new epithet.29 The result of the assimilation is in this instance not a new god, but rather a new version of an old one. These terminological questions are of importance in the present context for two reasons. Firstly, because assimilation is often used as a synonym to syncretism, which is problematic if we keep the definition stating that the result of a syncretistic process is a combination of two parts that create a new entity (not necessarily a stable one, but at least temporarily something new). And secondly, in the case of the composites discussed in this article, because it can be questioned whether we really should call the juxtapositions of the three inscriptions assimilations and thereby, possibly syncretisms.

Translated gods?

9 With this discussion in mind I return to the three case studies. Above, it was established that we are indeed dealing with single integral recipient deities and not several separate gods. This makes it possible and indeed interesting to attempt an analysis of their characters. Furthermore, with the idea of a third deity being created by two (or more) foreign elements, the suggestion of assimilation and new syncretistic gods appears almost naturally. However, there is yet another possibility that needs to be considered, namely that the respective gods are translations of one another. The custom of translating divine names was practiced in the Mediterranean world in various ways and contexts since the third millennium B.C.E., as explored by E. Bikerman in the 1930s, and more recently, by amongst others, J. Assmann, M. Smith and G. Fowden.30 Especially Assmann argues that the possibility of international or intercultural translation of gods was at the heart of ancient polytheistic societies, and places the phenomenon against the background of (increased) exchange: cultural, commercial and political. Such exchanges, he argues, were eased by the idea that one could translate one’s deities into the languages of other peoples, since this made them recognizable, “comparable and contactable”.31

10 Our examined dedications were presented in the Greek island of Delos, by non-Greeks (among them Phoenician businessmen) who offered worship to a combination of Greek and foreign deities. This certainly places them in a context where the possibility of religious translations might be helpful. If, however, the dedicators of the three Delian inscriptions had wished to make a visible translation between two or more gods, their easiest option would of course have been to carve a bilingual inscription. As examples of this can be taken another inscription from Delos, where Zeus Ourios is directly translated into Latin as Jupiter Secundanus (IDélos 1754), and a fourth-century Koan inscription, where Aphrodite is translated in Phoenician as Astarte, SEG 36, 758. 32 The dedicators of my case inscriptions IDélos 1719, 2132 and 2305 chose not to do this and presented an all-Greek text. But perhaps we should see the double gods of our three examined inscriptions as translations anyway, translations that simply exclude the foreign language text? I certainly argue that the juxtaposed names should be understood as approached by the dedicators as single recipient deities, but, again, should we understand these composites as divinities in their own right? Perhaps not. I propose the possibility that the examined case studies are attempts by three non-Greek dedicators to present their non-Greek recipient deities to the mainly Greek audience of the Delian sanctuary: an interpretatio Graeca made not by, but for Greeks. 33 This suggestion is surely valid for the dedications mentioning Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite

Kernos, 27 | 2014 144

Ourania, since these votives without any doubt were made by non-Greeks (Phoenicians of Ascalon). The identity of the third dedicator is less clear, but it is highly possible that he also was a foreigner. If we accept Mora’s hypothesis, he could have been a Syrian who had taken a Greek name, or, a Greek of the Eastern realm.34 Alternatively, Stephanie Budin has proposed that this Andromachos came from Ptolemaic-occupied Cyprus, with its Phoenician-influenced religious climate.35 Marie-Françoise Baslez and Corinne Bonnet both believed that the dedicator came from Sidon.36

11 The first dedicator is a well-known character. Philostratos was an active tradesman and banker in Delos (c. 140–98 B.C.E.), who eventually received the citizenship of Naples.37 The second worshiper of Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania is Damon, son of Demetrios, of whom we know only what he tells us in his dedication: he was once saved from pirates. Philostratos’ dedication is dated c.100 B.C.E., and Damon’s to the late second century B.C.E.38 Philostratos’ altar was found in the Sanctuary of the Gods of Ascalon, a sacred area apparently to a large extent funded by Philostratos himself. It was situated on the north-eastern slope of Mount Kynthos, in the vicinity of other sanctuaries of foreign deities, such as the Syrian sanctuary and the various sanctuaries and temples of the Egyptian gods. Damon’s altar was found further away, but the piece is believed originally to have come from the Sanctuary of the Gods of Ascalon. For its original location, it is pertinent that the instructions for sacrifices on Damon’s altar, i.e. that it is unlawful to offer goat, pig and cow,39 are similar to the ones carved on the altar of Poseidon of Ascalon, also discovered in the Sanctuary of the Gods of Ascalon, and thought to belong “in pair” with the altar to Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania erected by Philostratos.40 This second altar of Philostratos’ retains the exact same wording as IDélos 1719, except for the recipient deity; Philostratos dedicated it for the benefit of the city of Ascalon, himself and his wife and children, but as a dedication to Poseidon Ascalonites.

12 It appears that Philostratos and Damon alike expected mostly non-Phoenicians to read their inscriptions. They did not place their votives in a sanctuary where only their fellow Ascalonites would have come, as indicated by many features of their inscriptions. Firstly, they present their inscription in Greek only. Secondly, they present themselves with an ethnic, thus defining themselves as foreigners. This was not often the case when Phoenicians established the worship of their own gods abroad. In the most well known instances, they would celebrate their cults on grounds set apart by concession, with their own clergy, and where it would thus be superfluous to present oneself as Phoenician.41 Thirdly, they use precise epithets, something that was generally avoided by Phoenicians abroad. In fact, Philostratos and Damon interestingly follow the local custom of employing specific bynames, but all the while stressing the foreign character of their gods through these very same epithets: they underline the foreign geographic origin of the god/cult: of Palaistine for Astarte, and of Ascalon for Poseidon.42 The foreign origin of their goddess is thus (uniquely) stressed, 43 while simultaneously she is presented in a Greek way, in Greek and thus presumably to a Greek or heavily hellenized audience. At the same time, the dedications were set up in a place with Oriental sacrificial regulations.44 Why?

13 Educated and travelling Greeks were familiar with the idea that Aphrodite Ourania was the Greek name of Astarte of Ascalon at least since Herodotos’ writings.45 If they had wished for a direct translation, Philostratos and Damon could thus have contented themselves simply with the Greek name of Aphrodite Ourania, just as they did with

Kernos, 27 | 2014 145

Zeus Ourios or Poseidon of Ascalon; apparently they considered the Greek to suffice for the male gods. Alternatively, they could have contented themselves with only the transliterated name of Astarte. Phoenician deities who held proper names usually retained these when worshiped abroad, by foreigners and Phoenicians alike, and we know for example of a Koan thiasos combining Zeus and Astarte.46 It thus appears that, for some reason, Philostratos and Damon explicitly wanted a double intercultural denomination for Astarte/Aphrodite. In my opinion, the dedications were made to Astarte, the mistress of Ascalon and protectress of her seafaring worshipers in the diaspora and the combination of the two goddesses expresses exactly this. Of the two juxtaposed deities, Astarte is mentioned first, which in dedicatory language usually means that she is the more important deity.47 Then why add the name of the Greek goddess? As noted above, the primary audience (apart from the gods) were Greeks and the Hellenized community present in Delos. Therefore the dedicators used the usual translation of Astarte: Aphrodite Ourania. But this again begs the question, why was it necessary to inscribe the name of Astarte as well, when only a Greek designation was considered necessary for her partner, Zeus Ourios? 48 I believe that the dedicators felt the need to make an explicit mention of Astarte’s name for the sake of clarity. If only Aphrodite Ourania had been designated as recipient, in this particular dedicatory context, she is likely to have been understood exclusively as the Greek goddess of that name, certainly so when worshiped side by side with a second Greek god. However, the Greek Aphrodite Ourania did not exactly match the deity the Phoenicians wished to honour. It is likely that Philostratos and Damon knew that the Greek cult of Aphrodite Ourania did not (or did no longer) correspond well to the cult of their city protectress. Our examined dedications were erected in a Delos dominated by Athens. Aphrodite Ourania was an important deity in the latter city. Just like Astarte, she had significant political aspects, but, as clearly demonstrated by V. Pirenne-Delforge, from the Classical period onwards, the Athenian Ourania was mainly connected to marriage and fecundity.49 This dominating aspect had furthermore placed Ourania’s marine aspects, the mythological connotations of Aphrodite’s marine birth and subsequent voyage, somewhat in the background. This is seminal, because the cult of Astarte in and outside of Phoenicia had strong marine connotations.50 Thus, the straight-up translation Aphrodite Ourania would not have presented to the designated audience of Greeks and Hellenized Phoenicians what the dedicators wanted to convey. Ourania on her own would in the Delian-Athenian context have evoked too strongly the important marriage goddess, both if presented in the Greek section of a bilingual text or on her own in an all-Greek dedicatory inscription. But at the same time, Damon and Philostratos did wish to explain the character of their Astarte, who was perhaps not enough well known to stand alone. Thus, only through a combination of the two goddesses could the dedicators express with exactitude which deity they wanted to honour: Astarte, the Palaistinian one, who is like (but not identical to) the Aphrodite specified as Ourania. I suggest that in these two inscriptions, the double god Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania is not a (new) syncretistic god, but an intercultural translation. This translation functions on two levels. On the one hand, the entire denomination is a translation into Greek of the specific goddess honoured. But on the other hand, Aphrodite Ourania also translates Astarte. Because the inscription is not bilingual and thus not separated into a Phoenician text mentioning Astarte and a Greek one mentioning Aphrodite, any beholder is forced to read the names of Astarte and Aphrodite together. This means that while the name of Aphrodite Ourania translates

Kernos, 27 | 2014 146

Astarte into a divinity familiar to the Greeks, it simultaneously allows her (Astarte) to retain a clear foreign character, because of the oriental connotations of Ourania. By not mentioning Aphrodite Ourania alone, but in combination with Astarte, attention is led away from the Athenian nuptial goddess and towards the international understanding of Aphrodite Ourania as Astarte of Ascalon, something which in turn cleverly directs the audience’s attention mainly to the first-mentioned goddess.51 Furthermore, through the addition of a second recipient deity with safety at sea as a speciality, Astarte and Aphrodite’s marine aspects are put to the fore; they meet and activate, as it were, this power in each other. Zeus Ourios, Zeus of the Fair Wind, further reinforces the marine qualities of this dedication.52 In this way, in a language clear to all Greek- speaking visitors, the double denomination shows the recipient goddess to be firstly the mistress of Ascalon, the ancestral god and protectress of Philostratos and Damon, sheltering her protégés in the land of Ascalon/Palestine, and, through Astarte’s and Aphrodite’s added marine qualities, also on whatever voyage they would tempt. The double denomination is thus a translation, but not a straightforward interpretatio. As Bikerman has noted, often what appears to be an identification, is rather an explanation or interpretation of a foreign phenomenon.53

14 The same Graeco-Phoenician ambiguity is visible in the name of one of the dedicators himself. Philostratos is obviously a Greek, not a Phoenician name. However, it is in this case also a Greek version of a Phoenician theophoric name formed from Astarte: for presentation in a Greek context, Phoenicians carrying the goddess’ name often chose Greek names including STRAT- as equivalents, because of the acoustic resemblance with Astarte.54 This is also of relevance for the interpretation of the double recipient god. The idea that there is not a full equivalence between Astarte and Aphrodite, that the devotion is pointed to Astarte in this case, is corroborated by Philostratos’ choice of how to present himself in the Greek world. Should he have wanted to express exclusive devotion to Aphrodite, or wanted a complete translation equating Astarte and Aphrodite, he could have used the name Aphrodisios for himself. This name was in fact popular in Ascalon and Sidon,55 but it was rare for Phoenicians abroad, and as Baslez points out, this suggests that Astarte was not systematically identified with Aphrodite.56 This background corroborates the suggestion that the recipients of Philostratos’ and Damon’s dedications were deities of a fine-tuned character. A straightforward translation of one goddess into the other seems unlikely. However, neither is the complex Astarte Aphrodite a new syncretistic god with one heightened, intensified, power, as was the case with Isis Aphrodite, nor has one goddess wholly assimilated the other to form a new version of herself. What we encounter on the stones from the Sanctuary of the Gods of Ascalon is a presentation, translated to the Hellenized world, of the Phoenician goddess Astarte of Ascalon and of her relationship with the devotees that left their home city.

An intriguing divine couple: Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos and Eros Apollon Harpokrates, IDélos 2132

15 The third and most intricate inscription remains to be discussed, the dedication presented to Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos and Eros Apollon Harpokrates. Rather than a straightforward equivalence Isis=Astarte=Aphrodite, or a

Kernos, 27 | 2014 147

triple cross-cultural new deity, I am inclined to understand this votive inscription in the same way as the two previous, i.e., as a translated presentation of a foreign goddess, expressed through goddesses of other cultures, which thus allow certain qualities to become articulated. What is problematic here is of course that the ethnic identity of the dedicator, crucial to the previous argument, is missing. If one takes the clue from the inscription itself, a Syrian dedicator is not likely to stand behind the dedication, since there is in fact no Syrian element present. Aphrodite is not called Hagne or Syrian, nor is Atargatis herself present.57 Moreover, there are no known examples of a mix between Syrian and Egyptian cults in Delos.58 The Phoenician Astarte, however, is present in the inscription. Starting with the female composite, it is noteworthy that Astarte is the only deity who appears to be presented without an epithet. Is this an indication of her supremacy over the other goddesses, who are presented in more restrained aspects? And would that suggest a Phoenician origin or at least influence of the dedicator? Perhaps, but this would then be done in the shadow of the fact that there are Egyptian gods present in both the male and female composite. As noted above, one god usually seems to be the main one in a composite, and it is typically the first god mentioned.59 Astarte is for example placed before Aphrodite in the Ascalonites’ inscriptions. By analogy, in the third inscription, where Isis is named before Astarte, she would then be the main deity, with the other goddesses guiding the beholder of the inscription and perhaps pinpointing the aspect that the dedicator identifies as uniting the three in the context of his dedication. The great international popularity of Isis makes it difficult to even speculate on the ethnical identity of the donor. Some suggestions on the character of his composite deity might however be made, since on a general level, the three goddesses have many things in common. The epithets then indicate more clearly what is at stake. Isis Soteira is the starting point, and this leads me to suggest that the entire complex of goddesses shows the recipient deity as a marine protectress. Isis with the admittedly broad epithet Soteira is often thus understood and Astarte and Aphrodite Euploia both translate and reinforce this quality, as it is expressed in the context of Phoenician and Greek culture respectively.60 The remaining epithet Epekoos is difficult to place. Does it belong to the combination of goddesses or only to Aphrodite? We cannot know, but either way, it underlines the performative behaviour of a goddess who listens and actively intervenes in the life of her worshipers.61

16 Above I did not much comment on the partner of Damon’s Astarte Aphrodite, Zeus Ourios, since this god is not a composite figure, but the well-known Greek deity Zeus of the Fair Wind. But in IDélos 2132, we meet Isis Astarte Aphrodite in the company of a male composite: Eros Harpokrates Apollon. This is, if possible, an even more complicated symbiosis than the examined goddesses, since the characters do not have apparent functional affinities, nor do they correspond in any obvious way to the tripartite partner goddess. The Phoenician element is missing and the Greek component doubled. It has been suggested that the youthful gods Eros and Harpokrates are identified with each other, and that Apollon is present as a tribute to the Delian context.62 This is not necessarily the case. Harpokrates and Apollon were associated outside of Delos; in epigraphic sources the combination has been identified in Philippi, Thessaloniki and Naples.63 In the light of these inscriptions, a radical solution to the strange presence of Eros in IDélos 2132 would be that it is in fact a mistake for Horus, who is actually present in the mentioned non-Delian Harpokrates-Apollon inscriptions. 64 However, it seems somewhat strange that what is most likely a one-time combination, such as Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos, would be matched

Kernos, 27 | 2014 148

by what appears to have become an established combination. Moreover, this solution does not provide us with a Phoenician god, in parallel with the Egypto-Phoenician- Greek female composite. Since the reading is quite clear, we probably do better in leaving Horus behind and trying to understand what is actually to be seen on the stone. A possible interpretation of the combination Eros-Harpokrates-Apollon would be a functional complex, like the accompanying female one. This complex does not seem to underline a matching marine concern. Instead, I suggest that filial or mother-child relations could be the joining factor.65 Looking at the divine couples of IDélos 2132, we find two mother-son couples; Harpokrates is the son of Isis, Eros the son of Aphrodite. Leto is not present in the female triple god, but we must not forget the Delian context, where Apollon was often articulated as a son and a brother, within the Leto-Artemis- Apollon triad or together with his sister.66 IDélos 2132 was a thank-offering made for the benefit of the dedicator’s wife and children and thus the family context could be of relevance for the understanding of the divine complexes. Certainly, this suggestion does not present complete coherence among the combined deities. Besides Leto, a son of Astarte is missing, and perhaps one would have expected Harpokrates to be the divine name first mentioned, in accordance with the placing of Isis.67 Obviously, this interpretation remains a tentative suggestion, since the male trio of gods does not include epithets to indicate a specific character and the dedicator choose not to state a specific reason for his thank-offering.

Conclusion

17 The focus of the present article has been to investigate whether the three examined divine juxtapositions do create syncretistic gods, i.e., new entities born through the act and will, through the agency of a worshiper. Certainly, an ambiguity will always remain, in that the recipient deities are one and many, new and old. However, in conclusion I would like to argue that no, they are not new syncretism deities, because the gods are used to explain one another. I believe that what is at stake, rather than syncretistic gods, are dedicators behaving in a syncretistic manner, in the syncretistic milieu of Hellenistic Delos. The dedicators are consciously using their knowledge of various cultures in interaction, and they are communicating in terms to be intelligible to as many as possible, gods and humans alike. In this they are acting in a way that fits well with the functioning of a syncretistic system as identified by Martin, who sees Hellenistic syncretisms as “systemic relationships of resemblance construed in terms of sympathy and antipathy”.68 Our three Delian dedicators have surely found a good way of creating divine alliances, lining up resembling gods from different cultures to care for their specific situations.69

Kernos, 27 | 2014 149

NOTES

1. Hera Aphrodite: Pausanias, III, 13, 9. See also C. BONNET, V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, “Deux déesses en interaction: Astarté et Aphrodite dans le monde égéen”, in A. MOTTE, C. BONNET (eds.), Les syncrétismes religieux dans le monde méditerranéen antique, Bruxelles/Rome, 1999, p. 249–273, esp. p. 266–268. A dedication to Hera Aphrodite found in Akoris, Egypt, has been interpreted as an interpretatio Graeca of Hathor: BE 1990, no. 824; SEG 38, 1678. Zeus Ares: IG V 2, 343 = IPArk 15. For the phenomenon in general, see R. PARKER, “Artémis Ilithye et autres : le problème du nom divin utilisé comme épiclèse,” in N. BELAYCHE et al. (eds.), Nommer les dieux. Théonymes, épithètes, épiclèses dans l’Antiquité, Turnhout, 2005 (Recherches sur les rhétoriques religieuses, 5), p. 219–226. 2. Isis Aphrodite: IDélos 2040, 2080 and 2158 = L. BRICAULT, Recueil des inscriptions concernant les cultes isiaques (RICIS), Paris, 2005, vol. I, nos. 202/0346, 202/0322 and 202/0350; Amathous, Cyprus: SEG 38, 1501; Perinthos-Herakleia: RICIS 114/0601; M.H. SAYAR, Perinthos-Herakleia (Marmara Ereğlisi) und Umgebung. Geschichte, Testimonien, griechische und lateinische Inschriften, Vienna, 1998 ( Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Wien, Philosophisch-historische Klasse. Denkschriften, 269), no. 42 and perhaps from Egypt (Abu el-Matamir): A. BERNAND, Le Delta Égyptien d’après les textes grecs I, 4: La Béhéra Méridionale, Cairo, 1970 (Mémoires publiés par les membres de l’Institut français d’archéologie orientale du Caire, 422), p. 925–928. 3. IDélos 1719, 2132 and 2305. 4. IDélos 1719 and 2305. 5. IDélos 2132. 6. C. BONNET, “Le roi et la déesse. À propos de la dédicace grecque à Ptolemée et Aphrodite de la grotte de Wasta, près de Tyr,” Studi Epigrafici e Linguistici sul Vicino Oriente Antico 21 (2004), p. 125– 140. Cf. F. DUNAND, Le culte d’Isis dans le bassin oriental de la Méditerranée I-III, Leiden, 1973, vol. II, p. 110. 7. P. PAKKANEN, Interpreting Early Hellenistic Religion, Helsinki, 1996 (Papers and Monographs of the Finnish Institute at Athens, 3), p. 89–92. 8. P. LÉVÊQUE, “Essai de typologie des syncrétismes,” in F. DUNAND, P. LÉVÊQUE (eds.), Les syncrétismes dans les religions grecque et romaine, Paris, 1973 (Bibliothèque des centres d’études supérieures spécialisés; Travaux du Centre d’études supérieures spécialisé d’histoire des religions de Strasbourg), p. 179–187. 9. A. MOTTE, V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, “Du « bon usage » de la notion de syncrétisme,” Kernos 7 (1994), p. 11–27. 10. MOTTE, PIRENNE-DELFORGE, l.c. (n. 9), p. 18. 11. L.H. MARTIN, “Why Cecropian Minerva? Hellenistic Religious Syncretism as a System,” Numen 20 (1983), p. 131–145. Recent studies on polytheism call for an acceptance of what may seem “chaotic” to us, since the Greeks themselves apparently did not find an infinite amount of gods, contradictory accounts of their competences and actions etc., much of a problem, see for example R. PARKER, “The Problem of the Greek Cult Epithet”, OpAth 28 (2003), p. 173–183; H.S. VERSNEL, Coping with the Gods. Wayward Readings in Greek Theology, Leiden, 2011. 12. Inv. E 815. Height 0.75m, diam., 0.75m. It was found in the so-called Sanctuary of the Gods of Ascalon. It should be noted that the sanctuary is thus named in part because of this inscription. 13. For the dedicator, see also IDélos 1717–1718, 1720–1724. For a discussion of many aspects of the complex relationship between Aphrodite and Astarte, see BONNET, PIRENNE-DELFORGE, l.c. (n. 1). 14. The significance of word order in dedicatory language will be further discussed below. 15. Zeus Ourios in Delos: IDélos 1754, 2415 and 2416; the editor notes that he was often associated to the Egyptian and Oriental gods: IDélos 2127, 2179. For the Hellenistic cults of Delos in general,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 150

see the still important Ph. BRUNEAU, Recherches sur les cultes de Délos à l’époque hellénistique et à l’époque impériale, Paris, 1970 (BEFAR, 217). For Bruneau’s comments on the inscriptions treated in this article, see p. 346–348. 16. Inv. E 28. Height 0.53m, diam. 0.41, found close to the southern wall of the Salle Hypostyle. In Latin, Zeus Ourios was called Jupiter Secundanus, IDélos 1754, l. 7 and 21. 17. By a single deity, I wish to refer to an integrated entity. This entity may originally have consisted of (in this case) two separate gods, or may feature associated divine powers, what matters here is that two gods are treated as one recipient deity. The gods approached in ID 1719 are not Zeus Ourios, Astarte Palaistine and Aphrodite Ourania, but Zeus Ourios and Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania. 18. Ch. CLERMONT-GANNEAU, “Une dédicace à Aphrodite Palestinienne, découverte à Délos,” CRAI 53 (1909), p. 307–317. This was later rectified by the editor, in Ch. CLERMONT-GANNEAU, “Dédicace à l’Astarté palestinienne : rectificatif,” CRAI 54 (1910), p. 412–413. 19. In the context of the gymnasium, dedications were often presented to Hermes and Herakles, thus, an editor would hardly present Hermes Herakles of IDélos 1933 as a composite god, although the layout does not separate them visually on the stone, as in IG XII 7, 424, for example. 20. Inv. E 425. Height 0.85m, lenght 0.63m, width 0.57m. See also P. ROUSSEL, Les cultes égyptiens à Délos du IIe au Ier siècle av. J.-C., Paris, 1916, p. 196, no. 194. 21. F. MORA, Prosopografia Isiaca 1. Corpus prosopographicum religionis isiacae, Leiden, 1990, p. 60, no. 12; RICIS 202/0365. 22. The first goddess is epigraphically attested in various places in the Greek world, and a well- known type in iconography. Isis Demeter is to my knowledge not attested in inscriptions, but the coalition is well defined in other sources, not least in iconography: PAKKANEN, o.c. (n. 7); P. PACHIS, “ “Manufacturing religion” in the Hellenistic age: The Case of the Isis-Demeter Cult,” in L.H. MARTIN, P. PACHIS (eds.), Hellenisation, Empire and Globalisation: Lessons from Antiquity, Thessaloniki, 2004, p. 163–207. For Zeus Ammon, see for example Pindaros, Pyth. 4. For Isis Aphrodite, supra n. 2; J. WALLENSTEN, “Personal Protection and Tailor-made Epithets,” Kernos 21 (2008), p. 81–95. 23. Again, I stress that a dedication to Isis Aphrodite is thus not presented to the two goddesses Isis and Aphrodite, or Aphrodite and Arsinoë, but to a single recipient, which thus appears as an integrated deity. For various aspects of the worship of Aphrodite Arsinoë/Aphrodite Arsinoë, see for example P.M. FRASER, Ptolemaic Alexandria I, p. 197, 239–246; K. GUTZWILLER, “Callimachus’ Lock of Berenice: Fantasy, Romance, and Propaganda,” AJPh 113 (1992), p. 359–385; K. GUTZWILLER, “The Nautilus, the Halcyon, and Selenaia: Callimachus “epigram” 5 Pf=14 G.-P.”, ClAnt 11 (1992), p. 194– 209; E. CARNEY, “The Initiation of Cult for Royal Macedonian Women”, CPh 95 (2000), p. 21–43; S. BARBANTANI, “Goddess of Love and Mistress of the Sea. Notes on a Hellenistic Hymn to Arsinoë- Aphrodite,” Ancient Society 35 (2005), p. 135–165; S. CANEVA, “Queens and Ruler Cults in Early Hellenism: Observations on Festivals, and on the Administration and Ideological Meaning of Cults”, Kernos 25 (2012), p. 75–101; E. CARNEY, Arsinoë of Egypt and Macedon. A Royal Life, Oxford/New York, 2013, esp. p. 98–100, 101. It can be noted that the goddess is referred to sometimes as Aphrodite Arsinoë, sometimes Aphrodite Arsinoë, and there is no consensus as to which term to use when describing the relationship between the goddess and the queen: “identification”, “assimiliation” and “association” are all used. This is clearly an important and interesting case that would profit from a pointed study. 24. MOTTE, PIRENNE-DELFORGE l.c. (n. 9), p. 18; J. ASSMANN, “Translating Gods: Religion as a Factor of Cultural (Un)Translatability”, in S. BUDICK, W. ISER (eds.), The Translatability of Cultures. Figurations of the Space Between, Stanford, 1996, p. 34. 25. IPerinthos 42: a former priest presented a dedication to Isis Aphrodite. The divine names appear without a kai between them, but each was carved on a line of its own. The inscription thus

Kernos, 27 | 2014 151

further illustrates the problem examined and enhances the importance of examining each inscription in context. The editors however believe the priest to be of Isis-Aphrodite and date the inscription 3rd-2nd century B.C.E. 26. WALLENSTEN, l.c. (n. 22). 27. Perhaps one could even understand a heightened power as regards the aspect in question. 28. ASSMANN, l.c. (n. 24), p. 34: “The local identities are not altogether abolished; they are only made transparent, as it were.” An “international divine alliance” would perhaps be another pertinent term to describe this outcome. See furthermore PARKER, l.c. (n. 1), p. 225: juxtaposition of two divine names does not always mean identification or assimilation, but see also Fraser o.c. (n. 23), p. 245 who refers to Aphrodite Akraia Arsinoë as an “identification by juxtaposition”. 29. PARKER, l.c. (n. 1), p. 223–225. 30. E. BIKERMAN, “Anonymous Gods”, Journal of the Warburg Institute, 1.3 (1938), p. 187–196; J. ASSMAN , Moses the Egyptian. The Memory of Egypt in Western Monotheism, London/Cambridge, Mass., 1997, p. 44–54; l.c. (n. 24), p. 25–36; M.S. SMITH, God in Translation. Deities in Cross-Cultural Discourse in the Biblical World, Grand Rapids, Mich. / Cambridge, 2010, esp. p. 243–273; G. FOWDEN, The Egyptian Hermes. A Historical Approach to the Late Pagan Mind, Princeton, NJ, 1993, esp. p. 45–74. I am very grateful to the anonymous Kernos reviewer who introduced me to this fascinating discussion. 31. ASSMAN, o.c. (n. 30), p. 45; l.c. (n. 24), p. 27–28. 32. See also SEG 39, 852; SEG 41, 1800; SEG 49, 1119bis and SEG 55, 936; SEG 57, 771. For another bilingual dedication found in Kos, made by a Nabaetean and honouring Aphrodite (rendered as Ba’ala in Nabatean), see M. SEGRE, Iscrizioni di Cos, Rome, 1993 (Monografie della Scuola Archeologica di Atene e delle Missioni Italiane in Oriente, 6): EV 259; G. LEVI DELLA VIDA (with a note by M. Segre), “Una Bilingue Greco-Nabatea a Coo”, Clara Rhodos 9 (1938), p. 139–148. Bilingual Greek-Semitic inscriptions have been found in many places around the Mediterranean: Malta, Cyprus, Athens, Miletos and Rhodes, for example; see P.M. FRASER, “Greek-Phoenician Bilingual Inscriptions from Rhodes”, ABSA 65 (1970), p. 31–36. The earliest (Babylonian) translations of divine names appear in lists, giving the corresponding names in two or more languages, ASSMAN, l.c. (n. 24), p. 25–26. 33. Less elaborate examples of this can perhaps be found in the context of the Egyptian cults in Delos. Roussel suggested that these divinities quite often were presented by his or her Greek and Egyptian name, as for example in IDélos 2135, presented to Sarapis, Isis, Anoubis Hermes and Apollon Harpokrates (the dedicator is an Alexandrian): ROUSSEL, o.c. (n. 20), p. 97–98, no. 18. See also ASSMANN, l.c. (n. 24), p. 35 on the interpretatio Graeca of Egyptian gods as an Egyptian conception. 34. MORA, o.c. (n. 21), p. 12, no. 60. 35. S.L. BUDIN, “A Reconsideration of the Aphrodite-Ashtart Syncretism,” Numen 51 (2004), p. 95– 145. She considers the combination of gods as created through consideration of the political milieu of Cyprus and proposes that during the Ptolemaic occupation there was “a need to recognize the Greek/Cypriot, Phoenician/Cypriot, and Egyptian pantheons” (p. 131). 36. M.-F. BASLEZ, “Cultes et dévotions des phéniciens en Grèce : les divinités marines,” in C. BONNET, E. LIPINSKI, P. MARCHETTI (eds.), Religio Phoenicia, Namur, 1986 (Studia Phoenicia, 4), p. 289–305; C. BONNET, Astarté. Dossier documentaire et perspectives historiques, Rome, 1996 (Contributi alla storia della religione fenicio-punica, 2). BASLEZ, l.c., p. 291, and BONNET, o.c., p. 87 furthermore calls the dedicator a Sidonian woman. Has there been a mix-up between IDélos 2132 and IDélos 2101? The latter was however made by a man, Dionysios of Sidon. Hiller von Gaertringen believed the dedicator to be a Delian citizen: Syll.3 1132, however, this has not been accepted by The Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, who lists Andromachos as “attested in Delos”: LGPN I, Andromachos no. 9. 37. J. ANDREAU, Banking and Business in the Roman world, Cambridge, 1999, p. 49; K. LOMAS, Roman Italy, 338 BC-AD 200. A Sourcebook, London/New York, 1996, p. 68. 38. BUDIN, l.c. (n. 35), p. 130.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 152

39. I thank Dr. Maria Patera for the interesting suggestion that the regulations might not be sacrificial, but referring to the prohibition of bringing to the sanctuary anything made of (the skins of) goat, pig and cow (personal communication); see also M. PATERA, “Ritual Dress Regulations in Greek Inscriptions of the Hellenistic and Roman Period,” in K. VÖSSING, S. SCHRENK (eds.), Kleidung und Identität in religiösen Kontexten der römischen Kaiserzeit, Mannheim, 2012 (Mannheimer Geschichtsblätter). 40. IDélos 1720; J. MARCADÉ, “La pseudo-signature de Nikandros d’Andros, à Délos,” BCH 73 (1949), p. 152–157, esp. p. 155; LSS 55, 58; NGSL 58. It can furthermore be noted that the editor of LSS, F. Sokolowski, separates Aphrodite Ourania and Astarte as two different goddesses. 41. BASLEZ, l.c. (n. 36), p. 293. 42. BASLEZ, l.c. (n. 36), p. 293–295. Phoenicians abroad avoided restricted epithets, such as for example Ourania for the goddess of Kition (p. 294–295); BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 88. 43. BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 88. 44. LSS 55, 58; NGSL, p. 58. 45. Herodotos, I, 105; BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 89. It is moreover usually assumed that Astarte hides behind the Aphrodite worshiped by the merchants of Kition in the Pireus, IG II 2, 337, see for example S. PRICE, Religions of the Ancient Greeks, Cambridge, 1999, p. 76; B. BREITENBERGER, Aphrodite and Eros. The Development of Erotic Mythology in Early Greek Poetry and Cult, New York/London, 2010, p. 13. On the relationship and interactions between Aphrodite and Astarte, see BONNET, PIRENNE- DELFORGE, l.c. (n. 1), p. 249–273. 46. BIKERMAN, l.c. (n. 30), p. 188, 194; SEGRE o.c. (n. 32), no. EF 202; A. MAIURI, Nouva silloge epigrafica di Rhodi e Cos, Florence, 1925, no. 496. 47. PARKER, l.c. (n. 1), p. 226; BIKERMAN, l.c. (n. 30), p. 190. 48. As Prof. Robert Parker points out to me, it is indeed puzzling that Zeus Ourios is not given a Phoenician name, as part of a worshiped divine couple. Is Zeus and Astarte possibly a reoccurring, if not well-established, couple, with a marine Baal hiding behind the name of Zeus? See once again SEGRE, o.c. (n. 32), no. EF 202; MAIURI, o.c. (n. 46), no. 496; BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 87. To my mind, the name Astarte attracts even more attention against the background of the two Greek names. 49. V. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, “Des épiclèses exclusives dans la Grèce polythéiste ? L’exemple d’Ourania,” in BELAYCHE et al. (eds.), o.c. (n. 2), p. 271–290, esp. p. 280–282; SEG 41, 182; V. PIRENNE- DELFORGE, L’Aphrodite grecque, Athènes/Liège, 1994 (Kernos, suppl. 4), p. 15–25. For Ourania outside of Athens, see PIRENNE-DELFORGE, ibid.; BONNET, PIRENNE-DELFORGE, l.c. (n. 1); Y. USTINOVA, “Aphrodite Ourania of the Bosporus: The Great Goddess of a Frontier Pantheon,” Kernos 11 (1998), p. 209–226; Y. USTINOVA, The Supreme Gods of the Bosporan Kingdom: Celestial Aphrodite and the Most High God, Leiden, 1999 (RGRW, 135); G. PIRONTI, Entre ciel et guerre. Figures d’Aphrodite en Grèce ancienne, Liège, 2007 (Kernos, suppl. 18), especially investigating and underlining the complex connections to Ouranos/Heaven, of Ourania. 50. BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 88, 90. On Aphrodite’s maritime aspects, see for example PIRENNE- DELFORGE, o.c. (n. 49), p. 434–437; R. PARKER, “The Cult of Aphrodite Pandamos and Pontia on Cos,” in H.F.J. HORSTMANSHOFF et al. (eds.), Kykeon. Studies in Honour of H.S. Versnel, Leiden, 2002, 143–160, esp. p. 151–152; D. DEMETRIOU, “Τῆς πάσης ναυτιλίης φύλαξ: Aphrodite and the Sea,” Kernos 23 (2010), p. 67–86. 51. Cf. BONNET, PIRENNE-DELFORGE, l.c. (n. 1), p. 270; BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 88, 89. For further comments on the importance of the first-mentioned deity, see below. 52. Judging by the epigraphic sources, Zeus and Aphrodite were quite often approached as a couple, see J. WALLENSTEN, forthcoming. The couple as saviours at sea: SEG 49, 1408, carved on an anchor, with the matching epithets σῴζων, σῴζουσα. For Zeus (Soter) as a translated Baal of the sea, see BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 87. In these circumstances it should be underlined again that the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 153

choice of epithet for Aphrodite in IDélos 2305 was not a matching marine one, such as Euploia. The dedicator’s choice of the epithet Ourania becomes even more eye-catching in this context. It is furthermore interesting to note the similarity in sonority between Ourios and Ourania. 53. BIKERMAN, l.c. (n. 30), p. 188. 54. BONNET, o.c. (n. 34), p. 90; BASLEZ, l.c. (n. 34), p. 300; O. MASSON, “Recherches sur les Phéniciens dans le monde hellénistique,” BCH 93 (1969), p. 679–700, esp. p. 692; CLERMONT-GANNEAU, l.c. (n. 18), p. 310. This was not only a Phoenician habit. M.-F. BASLEZ, L’étranger dans la Grèce antique, Paris, 1984, p. 247 mentions the examples of the name Heliodoros as a substitute for the Arab Abd-el- Shamash (Servant of the Sun) and the name Mousaios used instead of the Jewish Moses. — I thank Prof. Jan Bremmer for suggesting to me that the choice of Greek names including a derivation of Strat- for Phoenician names stemming from Astarte might also mirror the martial character of Astarte; the acoustic resemblance was perhaps not the only factor involved (personal communication). 55. CLERMONT-GANNEAU, l.c. (n. 18), p. 310, n. 4; BASLEZ, l.c. (n. 36), p. 300. 56. BASLEZ, l.c. (n. 36), p. 300; BUDIN, l.c. (n. 35); BONNET, o.c. (n. 36), p. 90. The name does however exist for Phoenicians abroad. For an inscription found in Athens, translating the Phoenician “I am Shmr, son of Abd‘štrt (“I am Shmr, Servant of Ashtart”) as “Antipatros Aphrodisiou,” see E.H. PALMER, J.E. SANDYS, “Athenian Bilingual Inscription,” The Journal of Philology 4 (1872), p. 48–51, esp. p. 48–49; BUDIN, l.c. (n. 35), p. 129. For other examples of translated names, such as Herakleides for Abdelmelqart, see FRASER, l.c. (n. 32). 57. A. HAUVETTE-BESNAULT, “Fouilles de Délos: temple des dieux étrangers,” BCH 6 (1882), p. 470– 503, commented on the inscription that it appears to “completely identify Isis and the Syrian Aphrodite” (p. 473). See also BIKERMAN, l.c. (n. 30), p. 190, on the development Atargatis-Hagne Aphrodite and the implications of this name-change. For Mora’s suggestion that the dedicator was from Antiocheia, see MORA, o.c. (n. 21), p. 60, no. 12. Naturally, that a Syrian deity is not included among the three goddesses does not necessarily exclude the possibility of a Syrian dedicator. 58. ROUSSEL, o.c. (n. 20), p. 132. 59. PARKER, l.c. (n. 1), p. 226; BIKERMAN, l.c. (n. 30), p. 190. 60. For Soteira as a marine protectress: BRICAULT, o.c. (n. 2), no. 204/0108; M.-F. BASLEZ, Recherches sur les conditions de pénétration et de diffusion des religions orientales à Délos (IIe–Ier s. avant notre ere), Paris, 1977 (Collection de l’École Normale Supérieure de jeunes filles, 9), p. 88; DUNAND, o.c. (n. 6), vol. III, p. 30; A.D. NOCK, Conversion: The Old and the New in Religion from Alexander to Augustine of Hippo, Oxford, 1933, p. 56. 61. It is perhaps also of interest to note that Soter/Soteira is used mostly for the Egyptian gods, and Epekoos for the oriental gods or by Oriental worshipers: BASLEZ, o.c. (n. 60), p. 132. 62. PAKKANEN, o.c., (n. 7), p. 90. 63. DUNAND, o.c. (n. 6), vol. II, p. 110; Philippi: RICIS 113/1002; P. COLLART, “Le sanctuaire des dieux égyptiens à Philippes,” BCH 53 (1929), p. 70–100, esp. p. 77–79. Thessaloniki: RICIS 113/0525. Naples: INapoli I, no. 6 = IG XIV, 719 = RICIS 504/0301 = CIG 5793. This inscription was carved on a statue base and appears to have carried a statue of the three gods, presumably as one figure. Bricault (RICIS) thus believes that Apollon-Horus-Harpokrates was considered a single god in this latter inscription, in contrast to his nos. 113/0525 and 113/1002, where he believes Horus- Apollon is separated from Harpokrates. Apollon and Harpokrates are perhaps associated in another Delian inscription, IDélos 2135. For a dedication to Horus and Harpokrates, or Horus- Harpokrates, see RICIS 113/0905. Unknown provenance combining the three gods: CIG 7045. See also ROUSSEL, o.c. (n. 20), p. 122, no. 72, p. 278. 64. The identification Apollon-Horus was done already by Herodotos, II, 144. See also COLLART, ibid.; IG X 2.1, 85.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 154

65. On functional divine complexes, see J. WALLENSTEN, “Apollo and Artemis: Family Ties in Greek Dedicatory Language,” in M. HAYSOM, J. WALLENSTEN (eds.), Current Approaches to Religion in Ancient Greece, Papers Presented at a Symposium at the Swedish Institute at Athens, Athens 17–19 April 2008, Stockholm, 2011, p. 23–40. 66. DUNAND, o.c. (n. 6), vol. II, p. 110; WALLENSTEN, l.c. (n. 66). 67. One must certainly agree with the Kernos reviewer that we often have to admit that we simply cannot know what lies behind the choice of recipient deities/divine designations. 68. MARTIN, l.c. (n. 11), p. 140. 69. For personalized deities, see WALLENSTEN, l.c. (n. 22).

ABSTRACTS

In the Greek epigraphical corpus can be identified a number of dedications to what we might call composite, or double, deities, e.g., Isis Aphrodite. Related non-cross-cultural composites gods can also be found, such as Hera Aphrodite of Sparta, or Zeus Ares of Arcadia. The focus of this paper is however three cases where gods of different cultures are combined. I will primarily examine three elaborate examples, which include cult epithets. These case studies come from Hellenistic Delos: the paper discusses the twice attested goddess Astarte Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania (in one case further specified as Epekoos) and the once attested Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos, a goddess joined in worship to the male mixture Eros Harpokrates Apollon. As might be expected, these deities have often been termed syncretistic gods and they have been discussed as the results of processes of parallelization, assimilation, identification, or even simply of translations of gods of one culture to those of another. The present paper examines this terminology and tries to characterize the divinities in question in a more specific way. I argue that perhaps rather than syncretistic gods, in these circumstances we should discuss the syncretistic behaviour of the dedicators and the syncretistic milieu in which they lived.

Dans les corpus épigraphiques grecs apparaissent des dédicaces à des divinités que l’on pourrait appeler « composites » ou « doubles », e.g. Isis Aphrodite. Des dieux « composites » internes à la culture grecque sont également attestés, comme Héra Aphrodite à Sparte ou Zeus Arès en Arcadie. L’objectif de cette étude est d’analyser trois cas où des dieux de cultures différentes sont combinés, en des exemples complexes qui incluent des épiclèses. Ces cas proviennent de la Délos hellénistique : Astarté Palaistine Aphrodite Ourania attestée deux fois (dans un des deux cas, elle est aussi Epekoos) et Isis Soteira Astarte Aphrodite Euploia Epekoos, une déesse cultuellement associée au regroupement masculin Éros Harpocrate Apollon. Comme on peut s’y attendre, ces divinités ont souvent été qualifiées de « syncrétiques » et conçues comme le produit de processus de mise en parallèle, d’assimilation, d’identification, ou même simplement de traduction de divinités d’une culture à l’autre. L’article examine cette terminologie et tente de caractériser ces divinités d’une manière plus spécifique. Il s’avère que, davantage que des « dieux syncrétiques », nous devons plutôt aborder l’attitude « syncrétique » des dédicants et le milieu « syncrétique » dans lequel ils vivent.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 155

AUTHOR

JENNY WALLENSTEN Swedish Institute at Athens Mitseon 9 GR – 117 42 Athens [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 156

Un aition per due feste Una proposta di lettura dei Daidala in Pausania IX, 2, 7–3, 8*

Fiorella La Guardia

“… le duc d’Auge se pointa sur le sommet du donjon de son château pour y considérer, un tantinet soit peu, la situation historique. Elle était plutôt floue. Des restes du passé traînaient encore çà et là, en vrac” R. Queneau, Les fleurs bleues. Per Alessia

1 Oggetto di questa indagine sono le due feste dei Daidala (Daidala Mikra e Daidala Megala) come testimoniate nel libro di Pausania sulla Beozia (IX) e l’aitionche il Periegeta pone alla loro base. Riferimenti all’istituzione della festa, e all’aition ad essa relativo, si trovano, con ovvie varianti, anche in una perduta opera plutarchea dedicata proprio ai Daidala (Περὶ τῶν ἐν Πλαταιαῖς Δαιδάλων), un cui frammento è giunto per tradizione indiretta attraverso Eusebio1.

2 La scelta di Pausania per la presente ricerca è motivata dalla ricchezza di dettagli che il Periegeta fornisce sugli aspetti rituali, sui quali si intende qui concentrarsi2. Obiettivi dell’indagine saranno : 1. l’analisi dell’aition e del modo in cui esso si lega agli elementi del rito/dei riti (relazione tra riti matrimonialie olocausto) ; 2. l’analisi della festa e l’individuazione dei caratteri differenziali tra le due forme testimoniate nel testo ; 3. il tentativo di comprensione dell’oggetto δαίδαλα e del suo statuto all’interno del rito (simbolo di cosa ?) ; 4. la messa in rilievo del carattere stratificato del testo, che presenta elementi che si devono supporre diversi per origine e diacronia.

3 Quanto al testo di Plutarco, esso costituirà esclusivamente termine di confronto occasionale per quegli aspetti per i quali sarà utile ingadare gli elementi testimoniati da una diversa tradizione, che pure paiono in qualche modo collegati a ciò che troviamo in Pausania. Vediamo dunque, anzitutto, il dettato del testo : [2, 7] I Plateesi hanno un tempio di Era, degno di nota per grandezza e per le statue che lo adornano. All’entrata si trova una statua di Rea, che porta a Crono il sasso

Kernos, 27 | 2014 157

avvolto in fasce, come se fosse il figlio che ha partorito ; poi una statua di Era che chiamano Teleia, stante e di notevole grandezza ; entrambe di marmo pentelico, sono opera di Prassitele. Nello stesso tempio si trova anche un’altra statua di Era, seduta, che ha realizzato Callimaco ; chiamano la dea Nympheuomene per la seguente ragione. [3, 1] Dicono che Era, adirata con Zeus per una qualche ragione si fosse ritirata in Eubea, e raccontano che Zeus, poichè non riusciva a farle cambiare idea, si fosse recato da Citerone che era allora il signore di Platea ; per sapienza infatti Citerone non era secondo a nessuno. Questi dunque consiglia a Zeus di realizzare una statua di legno e di trasportarla coperta da un velo su un carro trainato da una coppia buoi, dicendo che conduceva in sposa Platea, figlia di Asopo. [3, 2] E il dio faceva secondo il consiglio di Citerone ; ma Era, venuta a sapere subito la cosa, subito giunse. Come si avvicinò al carro e squarciò il drappo della statua, si accorse dell’inganno avendo trovato una statua di legno al posto di una sposa e fece pace con Zeus. In ragione di questa riconciliazione celebrano la festa dei Daidala, poichè gli antichi chiamavano daidala le statue di legno ; e le chiamavano così — a me pare — ancor prima che nascesse in Atene Dedalo, figlio di Palamaone, e che a lui il nome sia stato posto in seguito come soprannome derivato dai daidala, e non sin dalla nascita. [3, 3] I Plateesi dunque celebrano la festa dei Daidala ogni sei anni, a quanto diceva la guida locale, secondo un computo corretto, tuttavia, in un intervallo di tempo più breve e non così lungo ; ma volendo calcolare con la massima esattezza l’intervallo di tempo intercorrente tra una celebrazione dei Daidala e l’altra, non ne fummo in grado. Celebrano la festa in questo modo. [3, 4] Non lontano da Alalcomene c’è un bosco di querce : qui i fusti delle querce sono i più grandi della Beozia. Giunti a questo bosco, i Plateesi vi dispongono pezzi di carne cotta. Di tutti gli altri uccelli essi non si danno minimamente cura, ma ai corvi — questi infatti si avvicinano ad essi — pongono invece molta attenzione. Scrutano su quale degli alberi si posi quello tra i corvi che ha afferrato la carne. E avendo tagliato l’albero sul quale il corvo si sia posato, da esso realizzano il daidalon. Infatti chiamano daidalon proprio la statua lignea (τὸ ξόανον). [3, 5] Questa festa i Plateesi la celebrano per conto proprio e la chiamano Daidala Mikra ; la festa dei Daidala Megala la celebrano invece tutti i Beoti insieme, ogni sessant’anni ; dicono infatti che per altrettanto tempo avevano sospeso la festa, nel periodo in cui i Plateesi erano in esilio. Essi hanno pronte quattordici statue lignee, realizzate nel corso di ogni celebrazione dei Daidala Mikra. [3, 6] Queste statue se le spartiscono a sorte Plateesi, Coronei, Tespiesi, Tanagrei, Cheronei, Orcomenii, Lebadei e Tebani ; anche questi infatti chiesero di riconciliarsi (διαλλαγῆναι) con i Plateesi, di partecipare alla confederazione comune e inviare offerte sacrificali (θυσίαν ἀποστέλλειν) per i Daidala, quando Cassandro figlio di Antipatro rifondò Tebe. [3, 7] Avendo adornato la statua (κοσμήσαντες) presso l’Asopo e avendola collocata su un carro, vi pongono accanto una donna che faccia da nympheutria ; ed essi di nuovo fanno un sorteggio per stabilire l’ordine con cui sfileranno in processione. Di qui guidano poi i carri dal fiume fin sulla cima del Citerone. Ed è stato apprestato per essi sulla cima del monte un altare […] [3, 8] Le singole città e i gruppi riuniti (τέλη), dopo aver sacrificato ciascuno una vacca ad Era e un toro a Zeus, bruciano sull’altare le vittime sacrificali, piene di vino e essenze e, assieme ad esse, i daidala, mentre i privati cittadini sacrificano vittime quante ne vogliano, se ricchi ; nel caso invece di coloro che non abbiano altrettante disponibilità, è uso che sacrifichino capi di bestiame più piccoli, ma bruciano tutte le vittime al medesimo modo […] ; e questo rogo è il più grande che io abbia mai visto levarsi ed essere visibile da molto lontano.

4 Fin qui il racconto di Pausania.

5 Avverto in premessa che non mi occuperò di alcune questioni, che pure sono problematiche o degne di interesse, ma che non investono l’interpretazione del rito in quanto tale, e cioè in particolare : 1. l’incongruenza tra il numero delle statuette (14) e la periodicità dei Daidala Megala (60 anni) rispetto alla indicata periodicità dei Daidala

Kernos, 27 | 2014 158

Mikra (cui viene attribuito un ritmo eptaeterico)3 ; 2. la congruenza tra l’elenco di città e tele partecipanti ai Daidala Megala e l’effettivo assetto territoriale della Beozia ; 3. l’incongruenza tra i periodi di esilio dei Plateesi come testimoniati dalle fonti storiche e la durata di quello cui fa riferimento Pausania4 (il fatto cioè che tra i periodi di esilio dei Plateesi testimoniati storicamente nessuno sia durato 60 anni) ; 4. la relazione tra daidala e Daidalos come personaggio mitico (IX, 3, 2) e i legami che l’oggetto intrattiene con gli ambiti della μῆτις e della ἀπάτη5. 6 La ricerca si è mossa su un doppio versante, quello delle fonti letterarie e quello dell’evidenza materiale. Per quanto riguarda le prime, si sono presi in considerazione, da una parte, passi relativi al culto di Era (con particolare riferimento a Platea e la Beozia, ove possibile o, in alternativa, ai principali luoghi di venerazione della dea) e agli aspetti che appaiono ad esso associati ; dall’altra, fonti che offrano testimonianza di operazioni rituali aventi ad oggetto dei simulacri (con particolare riferimento naturalmente a contesti nei quali compaia Era) o che avessero a che fare con l’ambito matrimoniale.

7 Quanto all’evidenza materiale, ciò che si è preso in considerazione consiste essenzialmente nelle testimonianze relative al culto di Era in Beozia — con particolare riferimento alla cronologia del culto stesso e agli epiteti testimoniati — all’Heraion di Platea, all’eventuale associazione di statuette col culto di Era.

8 Concludo queste premesse sottolineando come, nella storia degli studi dedicati al testo, la critica si sia sostanzialmente distinta in due gruppi6 : coloro che hanno visto come nodo centrale quello che, in modo non del tutto corretto a mio avviso, viene descritto come ἱερὸς γάμος e coloro che hanno invece eletto a focus dell’indagine, e dunque dell’interpretazione, l’olocausto — gli uni e gli altri facendo quasi sempre rimarcare l’impossibile conciliazione tra i due elementi. Cercheremo di vedere, attraverso l’analisi, in che rapporto essi stiano e se ci sia conciliazione possibile.

La logica del testo

9 Pausania introduce l’aition che sta alla base del lungo excursus sui Daidala a spiegazione dell’epiteto, Νυμφευομένη, di una delle statue che ha modo di vedere all’interno dell’ Heraion di Platea : ci dice infatti di aver visto una statua di Rea ed una di Era Teleia, opera di Prassitele, e una ulteriore statua di Era, Nympheuomene, (“che viene condotta in sposa”, è questo il senso che si deve attribuire al termine), realizzata da Callimaco.

10 Uno sguardo attento alla struttura del testo fa emergere come, di fatto, l’aitionsi leghi in modo diretto solo alla seconda delle due feste narrate, mentre la descrizione della prima appare una sorta di inserto volto a illustrare la complessa procedura7 con la quale viene selezionato il materiale per realizzare il daidalon, senza che nessuna indicazione sia fornita sull’impiego che esso riceve una volta realizzato.Particolarmente indicative di tale logica costruttiva del testo appaiono tanto la non perfetta conseguenzialità tra l’annunciata descrizione di una festa (3, 3 : ἄγουσι δὲ οὕτω τὴν ἑορτήν) e il racconto di ciò che immediatamente segue (3, 4 : δρυμός ἐστιν Ἀλαλκομενῶν κτλ.), quanto — soprattutto — la ripresa del tema della ‘riconciliazione’8 che lega l’aition ai Daidala Megala appunto, mentre non mostra alcuna connessione con i Daidala Mikra. Tali discontinuità mostrano come l’interpretazione dei dati di cui disponiamo sia resa particolarmente complessa dalla evidente stratificazione,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 159

all’interno del testo, di elementi eterogenei, dei quali non è sempre possibile rintracciare la matrice, stratificazione che deve essere ricondotta da una parte all’autore che ce ne conserva testimonianza, alle distorsioni generate dalla lunga diacronia che lo separa dalle cose narrate, dall’altra — soprattutto — a ciò che Angelos Chaniotis imputa alla dinamica dei rituali, alla dialettica esistente cioè “between ritual actions, which have to be performed in a particular way, and the continually changing community of performers, participants, and receptors or spectators”9. Quest’ultimo aspetto risalta con particolare evidenza, come si avrà modo di notare, nelle incongruenze esistenti tra elementi (i più numerosi) che possono essere ricondotti all’universo simbolico del matrimonio e altri, fuori serie, che richiedono di essere isolati e problematizzati e che inducono a presumere una avvenuta rifunzionalizzazione degli oggetti che costituiscono il focus del rito e dell’universo simbolico che ad essi si lega.

11 Proprio l’epiteto dal quale l’excursus prende avvio e l’altro, non direttamente legato all’ aition(Teleia),devono essere tenuti a mente e, credo, posti in valore — come cercherò di mostrare — alla ricerca di possibili elementi di organicità del quadro rituale che, nella forma riflessa nel testo, pone problemi rispetto ai legami esistenti tra alcune delle sue componenti.

Antichità del culto di Era in Beozia

12 Dalle fonti archeologiche sappiamo che il culto di Era in Beozia è databile già dall’età micenea (essa compare nelle tavolette tebane tra le divinità destinatarie di vari materiali, come p. es. in TH Of 28), e che la dea era qui venerata con una serie di epiteti, alcuni dei quali — come Kithaironia e Teleia — sono di immediato interesse rispetto al nostro testo. Una tavoletta in particolare (TH Av 104) contiene elementi di rilievo10 : troviamo in essa la menzione di gruppi di individui, designati come si-to-ko[-wo11, che secondo le interpretazioni correnti sarebbero dei ministri del sacro legati a una particolare divinità12, o piuttosto degli addetti alle risorse in grano e cereali dei santuari13, posti in relazione con delle località espresse con l’allativo (la forma che traduce nel suffisso l’idea del moto a luogo) ; tra queste località, Te-re-ja-de (l. 2) 14. Avremmo cioè la testimonianza di gruppi di individui inviati da Teleia o presso il santuario di Teleia15.

13 Secondo Schachter (che ai Culti della Beozia ha dedicato una monografia 16 e che a più riprese si è occupato delle specificità epicoriche di alcune divinità per quella regione17), i vari dati relativi all’epiteto Teleia dovrebbero far riferimento alla strutturazione della Beozia per tele, per distretti cioè, e solo in piena età storica l’interpretazione di Teleia come “Era adulta” avrebbe condotto a stabilire una sostanziale equivalenza tra Teleia e Nympheuomene18. Tali osservazioni mi paiono difficilmente condivisibili, per più ragioni : anzitutto l’epiteto Teleia è associato ad Era anche in contesti che hanno strutturazione assai differente da quella dell’ethnos beotico (non per tele cioè) ; d’altra parte, il legame dell’epiteto con telos e il fatto che la dea qualificata come Teleia sia costantemente presentata nelle fonti scritte come associata al matrimonio19 lasciano pochi dubbi — mi pare — sulla pregnanza religiosa del termine. A ciò si aggiunge che — come sarà chiaro dallo svolgimento dell’analisi — i due termini (Nympheuomene e Teleia) non possono essere considerati equivalenti.

14 Quanto allo specifico riguardante la città di Platea, valgono analoghe considerazioni riguardo all’antichità del culto (dal materiale di età micenea la dea appare come

Kernos, 27 | 2014 160

poliouchos di Platea20) e la testimonianza congiunta di evidenza archeologica e fonti letterarie ci fa certi del rilievo che l’Heraion plateese, e dunque il culto di Era, dovevano avere già in epoca ben anteriore a quella testimoniata da Pausania21.

I Daidala Mikra e i caratteri dell’idolo arcaico

15 In che modo, dunque, Era e il suo culto sono legati ai Daidala, a una festa cioè, il cui nome denuncia con chiarezza come focus del rito dovessero essere le statuette ? 22 L’elemento connettivo è rappresentato, a livello dell’aition, dalla falsa sposa (Platea) che, sotto forma di statuetta (di daidalon23), Zeus realizza su consiglio di Citerone per provare a sciogliere l’ira della dea e la sua decisione di isolamento in Eubea. Dal felice esito della vicenda, conclusa dalla riconciliazione tra i due sposi divini, nasce l’istituzione, da parte dei Plateesi, dei Daidala come festa, poichè δαίδαλα — chiarisce Pausania — è il nome con il quale gli antichi chiamavano gli ξόανα, gli antichi simulacri di legno (IX, 3, 2).

16 L’analisi etimologica non fornisce elementi utili alla individuazione di caratteri differenziali del daidalon rispetto allo xoanon o alle altre forme della rappresentazione figurata. Della famiglia cui il termine appartiene, Chantraine nota semplicemente che si tratta di parole poetiche, che sono antiche e le cui forme nominali sono più importanti di quelle verbali24. Maggiori informazioni si ricavano dalla analisi sistematica che Françoise Frontisi-Ducroux ha dedicato a “l’ensemble des termes qui composent la famille lexicale de l’anthroponyme Daidalos”25. Gli oggetti cui tali termini si riferiscono26 appartengono essenzialmente a tre categorie : oggetti in metallo (di gran lunga i più numerosi), oggetti in legno, tessuti, e i contesti nei quali essi compaiono fanno chiaro come la loro essenza non sia confinata a una realtà di ordine puramente tecnico, ma rimandi a un sistema più vasto, il sistema costituito da tutti quegli oggetti che Louis Gernet raggruppa entro la classe degli agalmata27.

17 Istituita dunque l’equivalenza daidalon-xoanon, e rovesciato il rapporto, evidentemente diffuso nella tradizione, tra Daidalos e daidalon, ciò che il testo ci presenta, e che viene indicato da Pausania come contenuto della festa plateese, consiste di fatto nella descrizione assai dettagliata della procedura, dai marcati caratteri rituali, attraverso la quale viene operata la selezione dell’albero con il quale sarà realizzato il daidalon. Il contenuto di questa sezione (IX, 3, 4) presenta elementi che sono comuni nel mito : l’affidamento ad un animale di una sorta di compito oracolare28, il legame fra una specifica specie arborea e una singola divinità29, i caratteri di bellezza e perfezione che il materiale scelto per realizzare un agalma destinato alla divinità deve avere. Sono qui significativamente condensati i tratti che Jean-Pierre Vernant descrive come propri dell’idolo arcaico. Nel dattiloscritto inedito che conserva parte della incompiuta Thèse sulla Figura degli dei30, Vernant osserva, a proposito dello xoanon, che “en lui c’est la matière […] qui a valeur symbolique : le bois, tel bois, tel arbre, en rapport direct avec la divinité”31. L’importanza del passaggio in questione risiede nella possibilità di affermare con buona certezza, grazie alle possibili ‘associazioni’ con altri contesti mitici/rituali, che gli elementi in esso conservati rinviano ad uno stadio di civiltà e dunque a dati di mentalità assai più antichi dell’autore che ce ne conserva testimonianza. La sezione di testo cui abbiamo fatto riferimento è chiusa da una nuova affermazione della equivalenza daidalon = xoanon32, ma nessuna indicazione è fornita sulla destinazione del simulacro, che rimane dato problematico in quanto è difficile

Kernos, 27 | 2014 161

immaginare che esso, una volta realizzato, non avesse alcun impiego rituale ; tutto quanto possiamo dedurre, sulla base delle indicazioni che il nostro autore ci fornisce, è che i simulacri via via realizzati nel corso dei Daidala Mikra fossero custoditi per essere poi utilizzati in occasione della festa maggiore33. Nuove informazioni ci vengono fornite infatti solo a proposito dei Daidala Megala, la festa panbeotica la cui descrizione segue immediatamente : i simulacri vengono condotti sulle rive dell’Asopo, dove saranno presumibilmente lavati34, e poi collocati su carri (ciascuno con una nympheutria accanto), che formeranno la pompe che deve condurli sulla cima del Citerone, dove si svolgerà il sacrificio conclusivo35.

Il tema del bagno: miti e procedure rituali

18 La descrizione dei Daidala Megala contiene elementi (il bagno, la processione) che legano il nostro passo tanto a quei racconti in cui compare un simulacro come oggetto di operazioni rituali, quanto a specifici momenti dei riti matrimoniali o, sarebbe più giusto dire, pre-matrimoniali (come ci sono testimoniati tanto dalla tradizione letteraria quanto dalle fonti iconografiche, in particolare dalle immagini che compaiono sulle loutrophoroi). Gli uni e gli altri trovano un significativo elemento connettivo nella figura di Era.

Kosmesis agalmaton

19 I testi ci presentano vari esempi in cui un simulacro viene lavato presso un fiume o una fonte, abbigliato, adornato36 : si tratta in grande maggioranza di statue di divinità femminili e, tra queste, un posto di rilievo occupa Era37 ; le fonti ci forniscono d’altra parte conferma del fatto che vesti, stoffe, gioielli (tutto quanto in greco veniva indicato con la parola κόσμος) fossero parte integrante del corredo sacro di una divinità (come è possibile desumere sia dai resti materiali, sia dalle fonti letterarie e gli archivi dei santuari38). Come ha mostrato Pirenne-Delforge a partire dal caso di Sicione39, le testimonianze di cui disponiamo mostrano il rilievo e l’importanza che tali operazioni dovevano avere, affidate com’erano a ‘personale specializzato’ ed oggetto, in determinati casi, di particolari privilegi. Riguardo a Sicione, Pausania narra, per esempio, che l’accesso al santuario di Afrodite era consentito unicamente ad una donna in qualità di νεωκόρος e ad una parthenos,che ricopriva per un anno l’ufficio di sacerdotessa sotto il titolo di loutrophoros40, termine che “suggère immanquablement l’idée d’un bain”41, nonostante le fonti nulla aggiungano in dettaglio, e svela nel riferimento al sacerdozio il carattere sacro che la pratica doveva avere42 ; ancora Pausania riferisce di come, a Olimpia, i discendenti di Fidia, designati come phaidruntai (“lucidatori”), avessero ricevuto quale privilegio ereditario la cura della statua crisoelefantina di Zeus43. Ma l’esempio più emblematico di questo genere di pratiche è forse costituito da Plynteria e Kallynteria ateniesi, feste che, già nel nome, rivelano una relazione con le operazioni rituali in questione. Vista la complessità della documentazione ad esse relativa, non è possibile entrare qui nel dettaglio. Mi limito a osservare che, per i Plynteria44, tali operazioni sono prerogativa del genos dei Praxiergidai e sono parte di cerimonie segrete (orgia aporreta)che i membri del genos celebrano in quella occasione45. Ulteriori elementi ricaviamo da un’iscrizione46 : dal genos dei Praxiergidai erano estratti due loutrides o plyntrides e un kataniptes47, informazione che

Kernos, 27 | 2014 162

conferma tanto la centralità del ‘bagno’ nel trattamento rituale del simulacro48, quanto il ruolo sacrale, di prestigio, che dovevano avere tali operazioni, al punto da costituire oggetto di prerogative gennetiche49. Quanto ai Kallynteria, non possediamo fonti atte a illuminarci sul contenuto della festa, l’unico dato che ci lascia intravedere un legame con la pratica della kosmesis lo ricaviamo dalla testimonianza tarda di Fozio, il quale riferisce che toccò per prima ad Aglauro, in qualità di sacerdotessa, τοὺς θεοὺς κοσμῆσαι50. Quanto possiamo osservare rispetto ai dati di pensiero che la casistica analizzata ci svela, è che l’esigenza — pratica — della manutenzione periodica delle statue costituisce d’altra parte riflesso della concezione stessa del corpo divino che deve, anche nella oggettivazione materiale costituita dal simulacro, sfuggire alle ingiurie del tempo, incarnare bellezza e perfezione51.

Bagno e status virginale

20 I dati esaminati ci mostrano come il tema del bagno costituisca — pur con una varietà di declinazioni — elemento di rilievo del nesso mitico-rituale : esso è infatti al centro tanto nelle pratiche di culto relative ad alcune divinità (specie femminili come si è detto), quanto nei racconti mitici in cui le stesse compaiono ; nè andrà trascurato che, nella pratica comune dei Greci, il bagno era uno dei momenti essenziali dei riti prematrimoniali52, quelli cioè che precedevano immediatamente la processione che attuava il trasferimento della sposa dalla casa paterna a quella dello sposo53. Al di là della elementare esigenza purificatoria legata a qualunque contatto con il sacro, è possibile andare oltre nella comprensione del valore attribuito al bagno prenuziale attingendo alle fonti54. Il bagno era, a livello generale, una delle pratiche intese a separare l’individuo dal suo status precedente55 e alle acque — particolarmente a quelle dei fiumi — era attribuito un potere fertilizzante, come ci informa uno scolio alle Fenicie di Euripide, proprio in relazione ad un contesto matrimoniale56 : dobbiamo intendere dunque che, nel caso delle ragazze, si trattasse della separazione dallo status virginale, come ci è testimoniato per altra via57 dalla allocuzione rituale che le fanciulle della Troade rivolgevano allo Scamandro : λαβέ μου, Σκάμανδρε, τὴν παρθενίαν. Come ha osservato Glotz, ci è documentata, per la Grecia, l’esistenza di numerosi corsi d’acqua il cui nome era Παρθένιος, un dato la cui eziologia sarebbe secondo lo studioso da individuare nella pratica di offrire giovani vergini alle divinità delle acque come dono sacrificale58. In tale quadro andrebbe dunque inserita la pratica del bagno prematrimoniale che doveva configurarsi, secondo Glotz, come una prova ordalica attraverso la quale la giovane sposa dava prova della propria verginità al futuro sposo59. Personalmente ritengo che tanto l’allocuzione allo Scamandro, quanto la testimonianza offerta dallo scolio alle Fenicie, siano indizi di qualcosa di parzialmente diverso, del fatto cioè — come detto — che il valore del bagno consistesse appunto nella marcatura del momento di passaggio delle giovani dallo status virginale, che bisognava simbolicamente “lavare via”, alla nuova condizione cui accedevano con il matrimonio ; nella stessa direzione mi sembra andare la richiamata attestazione, per varie regioni della Grecia, di corsi d’acqua che recavano nel nome un rapporto con le parthenoi.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 163

La processione e l’ambiguo statuto della nymphe

21 Nel nostro testo, alle operazioni presso l’Asopo segue la πομπή, che deve trasportare i 14 simulacri via via realizzati nel corso di ogni celebrazione dei DaidalaMikra fino alla cima del Citerone, dove si svolgerà il sacrificio conclusivo : la presenza della νυμφεύτρια non lascia dubbi sul fatto che la πομπήdebba essere intesa come corteo nuziale, per fittizio che sia, e sul fatto che, anche nel rito — come già abbiamo visto per l’aition mitico — il daidalon è sostituto simbolico di una sposa o, per essere più precisi, di una donna che viene condotta in sposa, di una νυμφευομήνη. Essenziale alla piena intelligenza del rito appare il richiamo di quello che Claude Calame mostra essere lo statuto transitorio della nymphe, non più parthenos, non ancora donna compiuta, gyne60. La logica simbolica sottesa a tale passaggio trova riscontro anche nell’evidenza materiale : non privo di importanza, infatti, appare anche il fatto che statuette di terracotta, che riproducono una figura femminile velata (donna/dea ?) — databili al VI secolo — sono state ritrovate sul sito dell’Heraion di Platea e potrebbero, secondo gli archeologi, essere in relazione con le tipologie statuarie menzionate nel testo di Pausania61. Il dato appare tanto più significativo se si considera che il ‘disvelamento’ della sposa da parte dello sposo era uno degli atti codificati — dal forte valore simbolico come è evidente62 — all’interno di una precisa cerimonia, quella degli anakalypteria appunto63 : “avant d’acquérir son statut de femme légitimement mariée, la jeune épousée porte un voile. Ce dernier signale un état transitoire : la nymphe a quitté sa famille d’origine et n’est pas encore intégrée à celle de son mari”64. É possibile notare peraltro come una conferma a tali dati possa venire dalla lingua, se è vero che l’etimologia, pur oscura, del termine νύμφη, potrebbe secondo l’ipotesi di Chantraine65 esser fatta risalire alla radice indoeuropea *sneubh-, cui è ricollegabile la radice latina nub‑, che contiene in sè tanto l’idea del nascondere, celare (nubes), quanto quella del matrimonio (nubere, nuptiae). L’anakalypsis in quanto atto che mostrava la donna, fino a quel momento celata, agli occhi dei presenti, veniva ad acquisire dunque anche il valore di sanzione ufficiale della legittimità dell’unione, ulteriormente asseverata dalla dinamica di offerta/accettazione dei doni (anakalypteria), il cui valore obbligante viene a sancire la mutua accettazione del legame matrimoniale alla presenza di testimoni66.

Olocausto e divinità olimpie : una conciliazione possibile ?

22 Quanto del nostro testo rimane da indagare è dunque la possibilità di raccordo tra gli elementi fin qui esaminati e il sacrificio che viene a chiudere, nel racconto di Pausania, la celebrazione dei Daidala Megala.

23 Ciò che, nella storia degli studi, ha creato maggiori difficoltà a livello interpretativo è infatti costituito dal trattamento finale che i daidala ricevono (l’olocausto 67) e dalla sostenuta incongruenza tra tale trattamento e le forme del sacrificio in onore delle due divinità olimpie : quale cioè il senso di statuette che vengono realizzate per essere distrutte, assieme alle vittime che sono state sacrificate in onore dei due dei, ma delle quali non vengono — come consuetudine vorrebbe — consumate le carni ? e quale la via di conciliazione possibile tra un rito dalle forme così particolari e il fatto che il sacrificio sia offerto a Era e Zeus congiuntamente, come coppia divina ? Richiamando i

Kernos, 27 | 2014 164

dati che il testo ci offre in successione e che abbiamo via via esaminato, credo sia utile porre in evidenza che il punto iniziale — l’aition — e il punto finale — il sacrificio (indipendentemente dalle forme che esso assume) — sono perfettamente rispondenti : nell’uno come nell’altro caso a essere in gioco sono Era e Zeus come divinità legate al matrimonio. Congruente con entrambi è il rito intermedio, quello della heorte panbeotica (forma plurale di quella che dobbiamo supporre fosse la festa plateese), che ci mostra il bagno rituale di cui è oggetto la sposa ficta e una πομπή nuziale. E ancora, punto di avvio del racconto è il tempio di una divinità, Era, venerata al suo interno con due epiteti che evocano momento iniziale e momento finale di uno specifico status femminile : quello della donna che viene condotta in sposa (Nympheuomene) e quello della donna che ha trovato — con il matrimonio — il suo telos, il suo compimento (Teleia).

24 Perché, dunque, delle statuette che rappresentano una sposa vengono, a conclusione di un corteo nuziale, bruciate all’interno di un rito i cui destinatari ultimi sono le divinità garanti del matrimonio ? Credo che la spiegazione sia da ricercare proprio nel passaggio dall’una all’altra condizione espresse dai due epiteti cultuali di Era. Il daidalon rappresenta una nympheuomene (si ricordi la esplicitata presenza della nympheutria sul carro68) : perché essa possa attingere il nuovo status, perché possa entrare sotto la protezione della dea che porterà a compimento il suo telos (credo non sia irrilevante — a riguardo — il valore attivo di Teleia), è necessario che lo status precedente venga cancellato ; di qui la particolarità del trattamento rituale riservato al simulacro. Dato problematico rimane invece l’olocausto animale, che non può inserirsi in modo organico in questo quadro, e per il quale andrà pertanto ricercata una diversa spiegazione69.

Polivalenza di telos e dimensione matrimoniale

25 Quale contesto, a livello umano, dobbiamo dunque immaginare dietro la celebrazione di questi riti nella loro forma più antica ? E in che modo è possibile interpretarli nel quadro di una comunità che dà valenza politica a tali riti ? La riflessione che, all’interno della sua storia della religione greca, Louis Gernet dedica alle feste contadine70, delinea un quadro che mi pare attagliarsi assai bene alla nostra situazione. Si tratta di un quadro in cui montagne, fiumi e boschi costituiscono altrettanti elementi di un panorama sacro che fa da “scenario” alla pratica dei matrimoni collettivi come parte integrante delle feste contadine stesse, le quali trovano nella celebrazione stagionale della fertilità della natura da parte di demi rurali associati la propria ragion d’essere. È lo stesso scenario in cui — a livello del mito — troviamo ambientate le ierogamie : su montagne come il Citerone, nei Daidala della Beozia (è lo stesso Gernet a citare l’esempio), che vedono la partecipazione di più comunità riunite, accanto ai numerosi altri esempi che il mito ci offre71. Si chiarisce allora, per questo tramite, la polivalenza della nozione di telos — iniziazione, compimento, comunione sociale — appartenente a una famiglia di parole che — scrive Gernet — “il est très notable que, dans le vocabulaire religieux, […] aient spécialement rapport au mariage”72, e che trova alla sua base una concezione religiosa dell’unione fra i sessi, cui — per il versante femminile — Era presiede con l’epiteto di Teleia appunto 73. Sulla stessa linea si colloca l’analisi vernantiana dei Daidala come esempio emblematico del carattere funzionale dello xoanon74 ; scrive Vernant : “Ces scénarios de fête concernent moins Hèra comme sujet divin individualisé, que l’épithète de Teleia qui la qualifie : il retient à la fois l’idée du

Kernos, 27 | 2014 165

changement d’état que réalise l’union sexuelle, l’’accomplissement’ du jeune homme et de la jeune femme, intégrés réellement à la société par le mariage […]. Le xoanon des Daidala […] permet de mimer […] cet ‘accomplissement’ que l’initiation sexuelle apporte au statut de la femme, en même temps qu’ au groupe social tout entier et à la nature”75. L’inedito vernantiano, benchè interpreti il daidalon — a mio giudizio erroneamente — come un simulacro di Era (in ragione di un supposto pieno rispecchiamento del mito nel rito), coglie tuttavia il valore che credo all’oggetto debba essere dato : quello di ‘mimare’ un passaggio di status. L’identificazione del daidalon con un simulacro divino, affermata in numerosi contributi, credo sia imputabile a un superficiale appiattimento dei dati che mito e rito distintamente offrono : il rito riproduce elementi di una cerimonia nuziale (pur fittizia) e ciò ha portato a ravvisare in esso la messa in scena dello hieros gamos tra Zeus ed Era e a identificare dunque nella statuetta la dea76.

La distruzione dei daidala e un ‘ciclo mitico’ di Era

26 In una recente raccolta sulla religion des femmes77, Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge e Gabriella Pironti hanno concentrato la propria riflessione sul caso di Era, con particolare riferimento alla relazione tra epiclesi della dea e femminilità78. Il percorso critico delle due studiose prende in esame dati che sono di primaria utilità per la nostra riflessione, poichè permettono di sostanziare il percorso che siamo andati descrivendo, mostrando come gli elementi contenuti nel testo di Pausania possano essere pensati come parte di un sistema più ampio79. Dietro tale sistema è possibile intravedere un ciclo mitico di Era, nel quale gli aspetti che abbiamo sottoposto ad analisi dovevano configurarsi come altrettante componenti di un quadro organico, del quale a noi rimangono solo elementi apparentemente disconnessi, rappresentati dalle epiclesi e i riferimenti ad alcuni rituali in onore della dea. Partendo dalla testimonianza di Pausania relativa alla trophe di Era a Stinfalo80, in cui si racconta di come la dea avesse ricevuto dal suo trophos, Temeno, figlio di Pelasgo, tre appellativi, Παῖς, quando era ancora vergine, Τελεία quando si fu sposata con Zeus, Χήρα, quando per una ragione o per l’altra trovatasi in disaccordo con Zeus fece ritorno a Stinfalo, le due studiose mettono in luce come le tre epiclesi individuino tre diversi momenti di uno schema, di cui si trova traccia anche in altre testimonianze relative ad Era81. In particolare, si richiama l’attenzione su un dettaglio che non è stato adeguatamente valorizzato dai contributi critici precedenti, e che è invece a giudizio delle autrici la chiave del processo82 testimoniato da Pausania. Si tratta della precisazione che Era — a seguito della separazione da Zeus — faccia ritorno a Stinfalo, un particolare fondamentale poichè costituisce la condizione essenziale perchè il processo possa ricominciare : Era è “pais, puis parthenos jusqu’au mariage qui en fait une Teleia”83 e infine, separata da Zeus (Chera), torna al luogo della sua trophe. Quanto Pausania apprende dagli abitanti di Stinfalo è dunque “un cycle mythique transposé dans une liturgie que l’on entrevoit au travers des épiclèses”84. Si deve notare peraltro che si tratta di temi presenti anche anche nel Plutarco tramandatoci da Eusebio : la trophe di Era ancor vergine (in Eubea), il rapimento da parte di Zeus e il relativo nascondiglio in una grotta del Citerone, l’unione segreta tra le due divinità e l’attribuzione ad Era, una volta che l’unione fu scoperta, degli epiteti di Teleia e Gamelios85.

27 Agli elementi del quadro arcadico possono essere immediatamente accostati da una parte il nostro testo, in cui gli epiteti Nympheuomene e Teleia si collocano — come si è detto — all’interno di un processo del quale descrivono rispettivamente svolgimento ed

Kernos, 27 | 2014 166

esito (cosituito appunto dall’ottenimento dello status di ‘sposa perfecta’potremmo dire), e rispetto al quale il ritiro in Eubea può essere assunto quale parallelo con la Chera di Stinfalo86 ; dall’altra parte, la testimonianza del Periegeta relativa al bagno di Era presso la fonte Kanathos a Nauplia, attraverso il quale — secondo gli Argivi — la dea recuperava ogni annola propria verginità. Che tale bagno sia presentato come parte di una τελετή87 mi pare ulteriormente supportare la richiamata polivalenza di τέλος rimarcata da Gernet, e credo mostri in modo forte la necessità di considerare il Teleia che appare nel nostro testo come termine marcato dal punto di vista religioso88.

28 Il legame a lungo cercato tra il daidalon e la figura di Era, che ha condotto vari studiosi a voler vedere nel simulacro una rappresentazione della dea, credo dunque possa passare non solo attraverso i dati che mostrano come, nel testo di Pausania, essa compaia quale divinità garante del matrimonio, ma — alla luce delle riflessioni svolte sul ciclo mitico di Era — anche attraverso una presa in considerazione delle differenze qualitative che oppongono la linearità del tempo degli uomini alla circolarità del tempo degli dei. Se, nel caso della dea, è possibile che il processo che trasforma la parthenos in sposa ‘ perfecta’ cominci ogni volta da capo in ragione di uno schema ciclico, che può ripetersi all’infinito, nella realtà degli uomini si tratta “de transformer à chaque fois, d’une génération à l’autre, une parthenos en ‘épouse accomplie’. Il s’agit d’intégrer à l’oikos du mari un élément ‘exogène’ et critique, une nympheuomènè. La prise en charge de ce processus délicat est précisément l’œuvre de la Teleia”89. E a questo processo è direttamente correlata, io credo, la distruzione del daidalon, in quanto procedimento fisico, concreto, in grado di realizzare — per via simbolica — il passaggio da uno status all’altro, in una dimensione caratterizzata dal tempo lineare e che attinge alla ciclicità solo nella iterazione rituale.

29 Quanto alla possibilità di intendere con certezza ‘Teleia’ come epiclesi che trova la sua ragion d’essere in una dimensione legata al matrimonio e, più in dettaglio, nella specifica associazione con Era, credo possano richiamarsi ancora alcuni dati. Una ricerca sulla Banca Dati delle Epiclesi Greche90 mostra come si tratti di uno di quei (rari) casi in cui l’epiclesi è esclusiva di una sola divinità91, Era appunto, e come, quando accanto a Era Teleia compare come divinità associata Zeus Teleios, anche l’epiclesi del dio sia declinata in senso ‘matrimoniale’ e non generico. E ancora, una ulteriore testimonianza del Periegeta mi pare fornire un interessante elemento a conferma della coessenzialità di Era rispetto all’istituto del matrimonio92 : a quanto ci dice Pausania93, ad Afrodite Era le madri compivano secondo consuetudine un sacrificio per la figlia che andava in sposa. Il fatto che ‘Era’ compaia al posto della epiclesi di una divinità94, in un contesto in cui un sacrificio viene compiuto quando una donna va in sposa, mi pare configurare Era come ipostasi stessa del matrimonio, tanto più che l’epiteto è qui associato ad una divinità, Afrodite, tradizionalmente legata all’amore sensuale, quasi che fossero riuniti nel binomio NOME DIVINITÀ + EPICLESI i due versanti che l’unione matrimoniale implica, quello erotico appunto e quello istituzionale95.

L’olocausto animale e la dimensione politica

30 Se l’ambientazione stessa dei Daidala, i tratti che appaiono caratterizzanti tanto a livello dell’aition quanto nella dimensione rituale (nella doppia forma della festa ‘minore’ e di quella ‘maggiore’), sono tutti aspetti che denunciano la sopravvivenza di elementi la cui sostanza rimanda a dati di mentalità assai antichi, come interpretare infine il fatto che,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 167

nella forma che ci è offerta dal testo, i Daidala Megala abbiano una chiara valenza politica ? (come dimostrano la menzione del carattere panbeotico, la estrazione a sorte della προπομπεία, la richiesta da parte dei Tebani di prender parte alla festa e l’invio, da parte loro, di offerte come segno di riconciliazione con i Plateesi).

31 Già la moltiplicazione delle statuette costituisce — come evidente — dato che non si giustifica in relazione all’aition e rappresenta dunque indizio di qualcosa di nuovo, del mutato scenario in cui la cerimonia viene a inserirsi. Quanto mi pare emergere in modo significativo dal racconto di Pausania, pur nell’accumulo di dati, è l’esistenza di una dialettica fra la regione di Platea e Tebe e, ancor più precisamente, l’esistenza di una situazione di contrapposizione rispetto alla quale i Daidala Megala si configurano come momento di superamento, come riconciliazione. Il testo è esplicito nel menzionare come la partecipazione dei Tebani alla festa sia il frutto di una riconciliazione coi Plateesi.

32 È merito di Luisa Prandi aver messo in luce, ancora di recente, come tale contrapposizione tra le due città sia dato che può esser fatto risalire ben al di là dell’epoca per la quale abbiamo la testimonianza del Periegeta96. A fronte di una presentazione della Beozia come realtà geopolitica unitaria, che viene retrodatata dalle fonti addirittura all’età eroica97, troviamo infatti costante documentazione di episodi di contrapposizione e scontro tra gli abitanti della regione, episodi spesso originati dalle mire di Tebe in opposizione al ruolo egemonico esercitato dalla Beozia del sud sin da epoca remota98. Il momento specifico cui il nostro testo fa riferimento per l’avvenuta riconciliazione fra Tebe e Platea e la richiesta, da parte della prima, di partecipare a una confederazione comune con l’invio di offerte per la festa dei Daidala è il 316 a.C., data in cui la tradizione colloca la rifondazione di Tebe ad opera di Cassandro. Ciò può probabilmente valere per noi quale indicazione del momento in cui una festa, che dobbiamo presumere preesistente in considerazione dell’antichità degli elementi che la compongono99, assunse carattere eminentemente politico.

33 Quanto emerge dal complesso è dunque la necessità di immaginare, alla base della festa panbeotica, il passaggio da una dimensione politica caratterizzata dall’individualismo di singole poleis a una fase in cui la riunione delle stesse all’interno di un organismo politico comune, il koinon, richiede dapprima sanzione ufficiale e poi periodica conferma dei legami istituiti100. Conferma di una risemantizzazione della festa viene anche dalle procedure rituali cui il testo, in questa sezione (3, 8), fa riferimento.

34 Uno degli elementi maggiormente problematici rispetto alla organicità di un quadro fortemente incentrato — come si è visto — sugli aspetti matrimoniali è rappresentato dall’olocausto animale ; esso rimane elemento ‘fuori serie’ e costituisce, assieme ad altri tratti già analizzati, forte indizio dello schiacciamento all’interno della narrazione di dati eterogenei e distribuiti lungo una diacronia di cui è difficile cogliere la profondità, ma che ci si svela nelle incongruenze tra singoli elementi. È, a questo livello, necessario distinguere tra le modalità che il sacrificio assume (un olocausto, laddove ci si aspetterebbe piuttosto il consumo della carne delle vittime a suggello dei legami tra le singole comunità) e il contesto generale di una cerimonia avente come destinatari Zeus ed Era : l’attenzione allo scopo cui il rito è inteso può guidare sulla via dell’interpretazione.

35 In un contributo dedicato ai legami fra tradizione poetica beotica e origine dei Daidala101, Maria Rocchi osserva come l’olocausto sia da porre in relazione non con i caratteri degli dei cui il sacrificio è destinato, ma con lo scopo della festa, che si

Kernos, 27 | 2014 168

configura come il rinnovamento di una alleanza102, e richiama l’attenzione sul dato — ben noto — secondo cui “les Grecs, à l’occasion des serments et des alliances, ne mangeaient aucune partie des victimes immolées”103. Alla luce di tali considerazioni, credo sia possibile pensare che la ‘fusione’, all’interno del testo, di due riti le cui origini devono presumersi distinte (distruzione del daidalon /distruzione delle vittime animali), passi attraverso l’elemento puramente formale del rito, il fatto cioè che si tratti di una eliminazione per il tramite del fuoco. Se la distruzione del δαίδαλον è funzionale al passaggio di status (parthenos/nymphe/gyne) che essa simboleggia e realizza, l’olocausto animale si configura come la conservazione — a livello formale — di una specificità rituale motivata, in origine, dalla conclusione di un patto/ giuramento, rispetto al quale esso era la forma ordinaria di sacrificio e al cui interno la distruzione dei daidala potè essere risemantizzata come rito di sostituzione. La festa apparirebbe dunque, in tal senso, come iterazione del patto originario : “Il est probable qu’au cours des Mégala Daidala, un tel sacrifice caractérisé par l’anéantissement par le feu des victimes animales et des xoana, était offert par les Béotiens qui entendaient renouveler eux-mêmes un pacte : ils voulaient alors renforcer l’engagement commun en reconnaissant volontairement le lien qui les unissait, comme habitants d’une seule région”104. All’interno di tale quadro, la studiosa avanza l’ipotesi che gli xoana potessero divenire allora, ciascuno, figura delle singole comunità partecipanti al rito, le quali venivano in tal modo — attraverso un rito di ‘magia simpatica’105 — a votarsi all’autodistruzione, in caso di rottura del giuramento pronunciato, in modo pressochè identico a quello testimoniato dall’iscrizione cirenaica contenente il cd. ‘giuramento dei fondatori’106. Si tratta di una ipotesi che mi pare abbia il pregio di fornire una spiegazione, tra l’altro, alla avvenuta moltiplicazione del numero dei daidala, diversamente non motivata rispetto all’aition. A ciò deve aggiungersi che, come fatto rilevare da Carastro, dalle fonti emerge l’importanza del giuramento come “acte fondamental de la vie civique, qui intervient notamment dans le cadre de la réconciliation entre le membres d’une communauté à la suite d’une période troublée”107.

Matrimonio e ‘eukosmia’

36 Se è indubbia la conflazione, all’interno di un unico sistema rituale, di elementi che si mostrano differenti per caratterisctiche ed eziologia, bisogna spiegare perchè il rimando alla dimensione del matrimonio persista. La critica infatti ha parzialmente mancato di spiegare per quale ragione tutto ciò avvenga sotto l’egida delle divinità che — coppia divina per eccellenza — si presentano quali garanti del matrimonio, e perchè questo debba presumersi legato a una dimensione sacra che aveva in Era il suo fulcro. In che modo si giustifica la crasi fra rituali dalla chiara valenza matrimoniale e una festa di carattere eminentemente politico ? Cosa motiva la giustapposizione della seconda ai primi lungo una linea che viene in qualche modo percepita come di continuità ? L’aspetto nodale credo debba essere individuato nel valore fondante del matrimonio per le istituzioni sociali e lo stabilimento di ogni dinamica di scambio tra le comunità umane108.

37 Nel suo studio dedicato alle metope dell’Heraion di Selinunte 109, Clemente Marconi mostra come le immagini in esse contenute compongano un ciclo figurativo organico che, inserendosi come elemento significante e dinamico nell’ambito delle feste della dea — come l’autore sottolinea ripetutamente — mira a tradurre agli occhi degli

Kernos, 27 | 2014 169

‘spettatori’ partecipanti al rito l’instaurazione del kosmos, ad opera degli dei, sulla violenza e il disordine : le metope centrali, dominate da un’atmosfera di pace, sono incorniciate da metope laterali che riproducono scene di violenza110. Al centro troviamo quel che Pierre Brulé definisce un pantheon genealogico che raffigura, accanto a Crono e Rea, i loro discendenti ; nella metopa centrale, Zeus ed Era : il primo afferra per il polso la dea — scalza — la quale, contemporaneamente, scosta il mantello che le vela la testa. “Il complesso di significati veicolati dall’immagine è densissimo e fa tutto perno sui gesti delle figure : la presa al polso e lo svelamento entrano contemporaneamente in causa in vario modo, solo che li si richiami al referente diretto, il rituale matrimoniale, del quale ciascuno separatamente è parte e costituisce un motivo di rilievo”111. Sarebbe certo insensato azzardare precise ricostruzioni in assenza di dati di supporto, ma nell’interpretazione del quadro che il testo di Pausania ci offre credo non vada dimenticata l’esistenza, accanto alle due statue di Era, di una statua di Rea112, una presenza che — attraverso il parallelo con il ciclo figurativo selinuntino — non rende impossibile ipotizzare il richiamo a una dimensione cosmologica rispetto alla quale il matrimonio fra le due divinità olimpie rappresenta la fondazione di un ordine nuovo, modello, per gli uomini, di una eukosmia — potremmo dire — che si declina anche a livello sociale e politico. Il matrimonio è — si ricordi — già nella tradizione esiodea (accanto al sacrificio e l’agricoltura), elemento di definizione della condizione umana e rappresenta una tappa essenziale nella costituzione dell’universo civico, in quanto istituzione che, nel garantire al cittadino una discendenza legittima, garantisce la riproducibilità della comunità stessa113.

38 A proposito di Selinunte, Marconi scrive : “il matrimonio è alla base dell’intero sistema sociale e non è un caso che le feste della dea siano, anzitutto, feste di rifondazione dopo la dissoluzione ; matrimonio e vita della polis sono intimamente legati […]. Per garantire quest’ultima è necessario salvaguardare l’istituto del matrimonio ed è questo il compito fondamentale di Era”114. Una conclusione che mi pare di poter richiamare anche per il nostro caso, in cui una realtà assai complessa, composta di elementi eterogenei e stratificati, ci si presenta nel riflesso doppiamente mediato di un testo che trova il suo primum movens in immagini, che appaiono a noi quali elementi ‘inerti’, ma che nella pratica degli antichi acquistavano senso unicamente in quanto componenti essenziali e dinamiche del rito, giacchè lo statuto dell’immagine cultuale è dato dal contesto rituale nel quale la statua è inserita115, non esiste di per sé : rappresentazione del dio e rituale per il dio sono indissociabili.

Abbreviazioni

39 Corps des dieux: Ch. MALAMOUD, J.-P. VERNANT (ed.), Corps des dieux, Paris, 1986 (= Le Temps de la réflexion 7, 1986).

40 DELG: P. CHANTRAINE, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la langue grecque, Paris,1968.

41 Héra 1997: J. DE LA GENIÈRE (ed.), Héra. Images, espaces, cultes. Actes du Colloque International de Lille (1993), Naples, 1997.

42 LSCG: F. SOKOLOWSKI, Lois sacrées des cités grecques, Paris, 1969.

43 Nomima: H. VAN EFFENTERRE, F. RUZÉ (ed.), Nomima. Recueil d’inscriptions politiques et juridiques de l’archaïsme grec, I-II, Rome, 1994–1995.

44 ThesCRA: AA.VV., Thesaurus Cultus et Rituum Antiquorum, voll. I–III, Los Angeles, 2005.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 170

NOTE

*. Una prima versione di questo testo è stata discussa presso il Dipartimento di Filologia Classica dell’Università di Pisa nell’ambito del seminario di Letteratura Greca (a.a. 2011–2012), diretto dal prof. Riccardo Di Donato. Ai partecipanti al seminario sono debitrice per varie osservazioni che mi hanno consentito di arricchire il quadro. A Riccardo Di Donato, che mi ha offerto la possibilità di discutere il testo in quella occasione e ne ha seguito le fasi di elaborazione fornendomi suggerimenti preziosi per l’approfondimento dell’analisi, desidero esprimere la mia sincera gratidudine. Alessia Dimartino, Mariagiovanna Lauretta, Andrea Taddei hanno con pazienza ed amicizia discusso con me, a varie riprese, il complesso del testo e singole questioni : tutti li ringrazio con riconoscenza e affetto. 1. FGrHist 388 F 1 (= Eusebius, Praep. III, 1, 3 e III, 1, 6). Menzione esplicita della festa è contenuta in III, 1, 6 ; poco prima però (III, 1, 3), Eusebio racconta che, al tempo in cui Era ancor vergine veniva allevata in Eubea, fu rapita da Zeus e trasportata in Beozia, dove si sarebbe unita segretamente al dio, un passo che, pur non fornendo nessun collegamento esplicito con i Daidala, contiene elementi che credo meritino di essere attentamente valutati in relazione alla figura di Era e ad alcuni aspetti della sua vicenda mitica che appaiono legati a quanto — come si vedrà — è possibile evincere dal testo di Pausania. 2. Il testo di Plutarco-Eusebio infatti, pur menzionando esplicitamente l’istituzione dei Daidala a conclusione del litigio fra Era e Zeus, non fornisce alcuna informazione sullo svolgimento della festa. Una utile tavola sinottica, che pone a confronto le due versioni plutarchee (per le quali cf. supra, n. 1) con quella di Pausania, è contenuta in CHANIOTIS (2002), p. 24–25. 3. Complicati computi sono stati proposti per cercare di risolvere l’aporia ; si vedano KNOEPFLER (2001) e STRASSER (2004). Un tentativo che voglia cercare una via di soluzione credo debba muovere però dalla incertezza del dato di partenza riferita dallo stesso Pausania relativamente alla cadenza eptaeterica della festa minore. Una soluzione più economica di quelle molto macchinose finora proposte sarebbe allora supporre per i Daidala Mikra un ritmo pentaeterico. 4. Quanto ai Daidala Megala e alla cadenza di sessant’anni riferita dal Periegeta, giusta l’osservazione di Luisa Prandi secondo cui “se l’esilio dei Plateesi ne interruppe le celebrazioni la festa doveva esistere già prima” e dunque “la durata dell’esilio non poteva render ragione delle scadenze di una festa istituita in un momento anteriore ma semmai modificarle de facto” ; PRANDI (1983), p. 90. 5. Sui legami che gli oggetti designati come daidala intrattengono con queste due nozioni, cf. FRONTISI-DUCROUX (1975), cap. 4. 6. Per la più recente rassegna bibliografica sui principali contributi dedicati al nostro testo e le relative interpretazioni in essi contenute, si veda CHANIOTIS (2002), cui vanno aggiunti PIRENNE- DELFORGE (2008), p. 223–226 ; PIRENNE-DELFORGE – PIRONTI (2009) e PARKER (2011), p. 194–196 e 221–222. 7. Che viene definita ἑορτή tuttavia. 8. Cf. ἐπὶ ταύταις ταῖς διαλλαγαῖς (3, 2) e διαλλαγῆναι γὰρ καὶ οὗτοι [οἱ Θηβαῖοι] Πλαταιεῦσιν ἠξίωσαν (3, 6). 9. CHANIOTIS (2002), p. 24. Lo studioso sottolinea come i Daidala, “with their long and complicated history, point to one of the reason why different approaches in the study of Greek festivals are not only legitimate, but indeed necessary” (l.c., p. 23–24). Sulle modificazioni che la festa deve aver subito, sino ad assumere un carattere eminentemente politico, si veda inoltre CHANIOTIS (2011), p. 264–265.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 171

10. La prima analisi del documento, che fa parte di un gruppo di tavolette tebane provenienti dai ritrovamenti della Odos Pelopidou, è contenuta in GODART – SACCONI (1997), in partic. p. 903–905, ed è stata successivamente edita in ARAVANTINOS – GODART – SACCONI (2001), p. 29–30 e 173–176. 11. La restituzione del termine è resa certa dal confronto con una tavoletta pilia (PY An 292), in cui il vocabolo compare ; cf. GODART – SACCONI (1997), p. 903. 12. Questa l’interpretazione in GODART – SACCONI (1997), p. 904 ; contra BERNABÉ (2008), p. 10–15, in cui si trova un’utile ripresa delle differenti interpretazioni. Bernabé — che riprende esplicitamente la lettura del testo contenuta in MELENA (2001) — contesta in particolare l’interpretazione del composto data dai due studiosi, a partire dalla improbabilità di leggere nella prima parte del termine il riferimento a una divinità, Σιτώ, osservazione che appare condivisibile. Più artificiosa appare la lettura, da parte sua, di Te-re-ja-de come Στειλειάνδε in luogo di Τέλειάνδε o Τέλειάδε sulla base dell’idea che negli allativi presenti nel testo sarebbero sicuramente da identificare dei toponimi e non altro (p. es. nomi di feste, come vorrebbero Godart e Sacconi ; cf. BERNABÉ, l.c., p. 29 e infra, n. 13). 13. In entrambi i casi, il secondo membro del composto (ko-wo) viene ricollegato al greco κοέω (per il quale si veda DELG, s.v.), sebbene parzialmente divergente sia il significato ad esso attribuito nei due contributi citati : “percevoir, comprendre, entendre, s’occuper de” (Godart – Sacconi) vs. “percibir, comprender, entender […] vigilar” (Bernabé). Si noti peraltro che la serie Av delle tavolette tebane raccoglie specificamente documenti nei quali sono registrati uomini/ donne, talora associati con offerte di grano, cf. GODART – SACCONI (1996), p. 101. 14. Dall’interpretazione di Te-re-ja-de come Τέλειάνδε, riferito a Era o al suo santuario, discende, in Godart – Sacconi, la proposta di integrare il]ro-na-de presente alla l.1 della tavoletta in ki-ta-ro- na-de, quale riferimento al monte Citerone come teatro di ambientazione delle feste in onore della dea (l.c., p. 905). Nel commento alla edizione definitiva della tavoletta, gli studiosi scrivono : “te-re-ja-de correspond à Τέλειάδε et sert ici à désigner les fêtes en l’honneur de Héra Teleia. Il s’agit […] d’un neutre pluriel suivi du suffixe –de de l’allatif. Ce sont ces fêtes qui, par la suite, deviendront τὰ Δαίδαλα” ; ARAVANTINOS – GODART – SACCONI (2001), p. 175. 15. Personalmente, se condivisibili mi appaiono le osservazioni di Bernabé circa la difficoltà di ravvisare nel primo membro del composto il nome di una dea (Σιτώ) e la conseguente opportunità di leggere in esso il greco σῖτος, non trovo viceversa stringenti le argomentazioni relative agli allativi : dalla esclusione, sulla base di argomenti linguistici (l.c., p. 29), che possa trattarsi del riferimento a nomi di feste, non mi pare discendere infatti la necessità di vedere in essi unicamente dei toponimi, negando recisamente la possibilità che possa trattarsi del riferimento a santuari. 16. SCHACHTER (1981). 17. Si vedano, per quel che ci interessa, SCHACHTER (2000) e (2005). 18. SCHACHTER (2000), p. 13–14. 19. Cf. p. es. Aesch., Eumenides, 213–214, in cui Apollo ribatte al coro delle Erinni (che ha appena affermato che chi si trovi a uccidere il marito non versa sangue di consanguinei) : ἦ κάρτ᾽ ἄτιμα καὶ παρ᾽οὐδὲν ἠργάσω | Ἥρας Τελείας καὶ Διὸς πιστώματα (Privi di onore e senza alcun valore tu consideri i patti di Era Teleia e Zeus) ; si vedano ancora : Aesch., fr. 383 ; Pind., Nem. X, 18 ; Aristoph., Thesm., 973 ; Diod. Sic., V, 73, 2. 20. Cf. GODART - SACCONI (1996). 21. Gli scavi hanno permesso di identificare l’Heraion più antico in una costruzione, databile al VI sec. a.C., poi distrutta da un incendio (con ogni probabilità durante le guerre persiane), e successivamente ricostruita, secondo quanto apprendiamo da Thuc., III, 68, 3. Relativamente all’epoca delle Guerre Persiane, il racconto erodoteo relativo alla battaglia di Platea (Hdt., IX, 52– 53 ; 61 ; 69), permette di evincere con chiarezza che il santuario doveva essere il più importante centro di culto della città se, nell’imminenza dello scontro, Pausania pronuncia una preghiera per

Kernos, 27 | 2014 172

la buona riuscita dei sacrifici propiziatori ἀποβλέψαντα πρὸς τὸ Ἡραῖον τὸ Πλαταιέων (IX, 61, 3) ; analogamente, in Plut., Arist., 18, 1, troviamo Era Kithaironia nella lista di dei invocati al momento dell’invasione persiana di Platea. Ad epoca arcaica si datano inoltre alcune statuette fittili, interpretate come dediche ad Era, cf. LIMC, s.v. Hera (in partic. p. 666) e RIELE — RIELE (1966). Per una analisi dettagliata dell’Heraion plateese in relazione ai Daidala, si vedano PRANDI (1983) ; IVERSEN (2007) che offre un ampio inquadramento storico, dal periodo miceneo all’età ellenistica ; per una prima relazione degli scavi, cf. invece WASHINGTON (1891). 22. A proposito del nome della festa, Vernant indica nei Daidala un caso emblematico, che rende ben evidente come essenziale nel caso degli idoli arcaici fosse non la loro forma, il fatto che riproducessero dei sembianti, ma le operazioni rituali di cui erano oggetto. Nel caso in questione infatti la festa prende il nome dall’oggetto stesso che è al centro dei rituali (cf. VERNANT [ds.], p. 57). 23. Il dibattito fra gli studiosi ha oscillato a lungo circa l’opportunità di interpretare le statuette come riproduzioni di un soggetto umano o piuttosto di una figura divina. Il testo in realtà, come si avrà modo di argomentare, non sembra lasciare spazio a dubbi circa il fatto che si tratti di una figura umana e non divina. 24. Chantraine, DELG, s.v. δαιδάλλω. 25. FRONTISI-DUCROUX (1975), p. 35. La ricerca è condotta in modo sistematico sulle occorrenze del corpus omerico ed esiodeo e prende a confronto i dati forniti da altri autori. 26. L’analisi della studiosa fa emergere che i termini sono spesso oggetto di verbi che designano azioni tecniche (fare, fabbricare, forgiare) e si ritrovano in associazione significativa con vocaboli che designano utensili e tecniche di lavorazione o che appartengono al campo semantico della luce e del vedere. Essi si trovano inoltre associati con i nomi di alcune divinità ed eroi e hanno spesso relazione con l’ambito della metis e della apate, un legame — quest’ultimo — che si ritrova anche nel nostro testo e che merita di essere approfondito, tanto più che esso è presente anche nel testo plutarcheo ; cf. Eus., Praep. III, 1, 6. 27. FRONTISI-DUCROUX (1975), p. 64–65. Il rimando è a GERNET (1948). 28. Per paralleli, cf. Paus., III, 22, 12 ; IX, 12, 2. L’ultimo passo è relativo al racconto tradizionale sulla fondazione di Tebe, quale leggiamo anche in Eur., Phoen., 638–642, in cui il coro ricorda come il luogo scelto da Cadmo per la nuova città fosse stato, secondo le prescrizioni dell’oracolo delfico, quello in cui lo aveva guidato una giovenca. 29. Si veda p. es. Paus., VIII, 13, 2 e il già citato III, 22, 12. 30. Il dattiloscritto è ora parte delle Archives Jean-Pierre Vernant [AJPV], contenenti le carte dello studioso, ordinate per la cura di Riccardo Di Donato e custodite presso il Laboratorio di Antropologia del Mondo Antico dell’Università di Pisa. Nel regesto, realizzato da Lucia Marrucci, il testo in questione è rubricato in AJPV III.2, fascicolo relativo a La figure des dieux. Essai sur la naissance de l’image chez les Grecs,e occupa le cc. 2–93 ; per la struttura dell’archivio e la classificazione delle carte al suo interno, cf. DI DONATO (2013a) e MARRUCCI (2013). Le Archives Jean- Pierre Vernant sono ora interamente consultabili, in formato digitale, sul sito http:// lama.humnet.unipi.it nella sezione ‘Archivi’. La sostanza del dattiloscritto vernantiano è stata poi variamente ripresa all’interno dell’opera edita dello studioso e costituisce dichiarata fonte di ispirazione di una parte della riflessione contenuta nella già citata analisi di Frontisi-Ducroux ; cf. FRONTISI-DUCROUX (1975), n. 60, p. 104. 31. VERNANT (ds.), c. 53, corsivi miei. Proprio in relazione al nostro passo, Vernant nota : “Lors des fêtes des Daidala, en Béotie, un rituel compliqué permettait de connaître, chaque année, l’arbre choisi par la déesse pour son xoanon” (ds., c. 54) ; sulla importanza del materiale scelto per realizzare lo xoanon, si veda anche VINCENT (2003), p. 58, che cita, tra vari esempi, anche quello dei daidala. 32. Paus., IX, 3, 4 : δαίδαλον γὰρ δὴ καὶ τὸ ξόανον αὐτὸ ὀνομάζουσι.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 173

33. Paus., IX, 3, 5 : ξόανα δὲ τεσσαρεσκαίδεκα ἕτοιμά σφισίν ἐστι κατ᾽ ἐνιαυτὸν ἕκαστον παρασκευασθέντα ἐν Δαιδάλοις τοῖς μικροῖς. Un aspetto che appare ulteriormente singolare, tanto più se si considera il lungo intervallo di tempo che — stando al nostro testimone — intercorreva tra le due feste. 34. Su questo aspetto, e sulla possibilità di ipotizzare con buona certezza che i simulacri siano condotti sulle rive dell’Asopo per essere lavati, cf. infra. 35. Paus., IX, 3, 6–7. Dalla descrizione della festa nella sua doppia forma, emerge una sorta di opposizione singolare/plurale, che caratterizza la variante plateese e quella panbeotica rispettivamente, sia per quanto riguarda la dimensione organizzativa e partecipativa (una città vs. molte città), sia — conseguentemente — per quanto riguarda l’oggetto stesso della festa (un δαίδαλον vs. molti δαίδαλα). 36. Che tali operazioni dovessero esser parte di una pratica ordinaria ci è d’altra parte testimoniato dalla documentazione epigrafica : alcuni inventari ci forniscono infatti notizie relative a varie operazioni di κόσμησις ἀγαλμάτων, consistenti per lo più nel lavaggio della statua e l’unzione con olio ; si veda, p. es., IG XI 2, 144, l. 37, in cui è registrata una lista di materiale (una spugna, olio e nitro), destinato alla kosmesis di una statua di Dioniso. Su questi aspetti cf. GINOUVÈS (1962), in partic. p. 283–285. ; KAHIL (1994) e BETTINETTI (2001), p. 143–160. 37. Si vedano, p. es., Paus., II, 38, 2–3 e Athen., XV, 672d, cui va aggiunta la testimonianza relativa alla esistenza, in Argo, di personale sacro specificamente addetto all’acqua del bagno per la dea, per la quale cf. Hesych., s.v Ἡρεσίδες. Nel suo studio sul miasma, Robert Parker fa rilevare come non ci sia ragione di ricercare una spiegazione unica per tutti gli esempi di simulacri divini oggetto di un bagno, data l’eterogeneità dei casi, ma, per quel che ci riguarda, osserva : “The bath that Hera’s image receives in Plataea is pre-nuptial” ; PARKER (1983), p. 27 ; si noti, per inciso, che Parker — ne deduciamo — considera il daidalon un simulacro di Era. Analoga l’interpretazione del bagno per Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood, la quale a proposito della statua di Era in Argo, scrive : “This loutron was clearly pre-nuptial, as was the bath of Hera’s wooden image at the Daidala at Plataia” ; SOURVINOU-INWOOD (2011), p. 188. 38. Che kosmos sia il termine con il quale, tanto nelle fonti letterarie quanto negli archivi dei santuari, viene indicato tutto il corredo sacro che era legato alle singole divinità mi pare deporre in modo significativo a favore della proposta di Matthew Dillon sulla opportunità di non correggere il tradito κοσμήσαντες di Paus., IX, 3, 7 in κομίσαντες ; cf. DILLON (1993). All’interno dell’episodio omerico della Διὸς ἀπάτη (Hom., Il. XIV, 153–351), il vocabolo è utilizzato (v. 187) a indicare in modo ‘riassuntivo’ il complesso di ornamenti, precedentemente elencati in dettaglio (vv. 178–186), di cui Era si adorna per sedurre Zeus. Per la documentazione epigrafica si veda, in via esemplificativa, la testimonianza di IG XII, 764, relativa alla Atena di Lindo, in cui è registrato il ricco kosmos di vesti e accessori, di cui la statua viene dotata dagli abitanti della città. 39. PIRENNE-DELFORGE (1994a). 40. Paus., II, 10, 4 : τὸ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης ἐστὶν ἱερόν. ἐσίασι μέν δὴ ἐς αὐτὸ γυνή τε νεωκόρος […] καὶ παρθένος ἱερωσύνην ἐπέτειον ἔχουσα. Λουτροφόρον τῆν παρθένον ὀνομάζουσι. 41. Cf. PIRENNE-DELFORGE (1994a), p. 152. 42. Non sappiamo quali forme assumesse il bagno cui l’ufficio di loutrophoros sembra rimandare ; secondo Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge esso è da porre in relazione con l’idea del matrimonio, essendo in causa la dea più direttamente legata all’idea di fecondità ; per questo e per gli altri aspetti legati al bagno della statua e a un inquadramento della figura della loutrophoros, cf. PIRENNE-DELFORGE, l.c. 43. Paus., V, 14, 5 : οἱ ἀπόγονοι Φειδίου, καλούμενοι δὲ φαιδρυνταί, γέρας παρὰ Ἠλείων εἰληφότες τοῦ Διὸς τὸ ἄγαλμα ἀπὸ τῶν προσιζανόντων καθαίρειν, οὗτοι θύουσιν ἐνταῦθα πρὶν ἢ λαμπρύνειν τὸ ἄγαλμα ἄρχονται, cf. BETTINETTI (2001), p. 143–144. 44. Xenoph., Hell. I, 4, 12 ; Plut., Alcib., 34, 1.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 174

45. Plut., Alcib. 34, 1. Per una discussione su questo specifico aspetto, cf. CHRISTOPOULOS (1992). 46. IG I3, 7, datata al 460–450 a.C. (= LSCG 15), che riporta un oracolo di Apollo relativo al ruolo e ai patria del genos. L’iscrizione pone varie questioni, assai complesse, che non è possibile affrontare qui in modo approfondito. 47. Per un quadro sintetico su tali aspetti, cf. PARKER (2005), p. 478. 48. Le due feste costituiscono peraltro una conferma del fatto che il bagno delle statue poteva assumere significati diversi a seconda della divinità in questione (cf. supra, n. 37). Qui infatti — a differenza del nostro caso — trattandosi del simulacro di Atena, non è possibile pensare a un bagno nuziale. 49. Come per il caso già citato dei phaidruntai addetti alla statua di Zeus a Olimpia, per il quale cf. supra, n. 43. Una interessante discussione del decreto relativo ai Praxiergidai è contenuta in LAMBERT (2008), che mette in relazione l’iscrizione con altre relative a doveri rituali legati alle cure della statua di Atena. Lo studioso, sulla base dei dati, arriva a formulare l’ipotesi che tali mansioni rituali, unitamente alle cariche sacerdotali, potessero costituire oggetto di competizione tra gene diversi (cf. l.c., p. 26). 50. Phot., s.v. Καλλυντήρια καὶ Πλυντήρια. Fozio spiega il nome della festa attraverso la sinonimia tra κοσμεῖν e λαμπρύνειν. Per una analisi sintetica della festa, cf. PARKER (2005), p. 474– 475. Sulla possibile interpretazione di Plynteria e Kallynteria come parti distinte di un unico ‘nesso festivo’, si veda da ultimo SOURVINOU-INWOOD (2011), p. 135–224, con bibliografia precedente ; per gli specifici aspetti che qui ci interessano, cf. invece SCHMITT-PANTEL (2008), p. 308–311. 51. Alla medesima logica corrispondono tanto le tecniche impiegate (lo sphyrelaton, che prevedeva la copertura parziale o totale del legno con cui la statua era realizzata con un metallo brillante ; la tecnica crisoelefantina che ricorreva all’utilizzo congiunto di oro e avorio), quanto il periodico restauro delle parti più esposte (viso, mani) ; su tali aspetti, si veda FRONTISI-DUCROUX (1986), in partic. p. 260–264. Conferma a tale tipo di concezione viene peraltro dalla documentazione epigrafica, in cui l’agalma è spesso qualificato come καλόν o περικαλλές, cf. LANÉRÈS (2012), p. 159. 52. Sui valori attribuiti al bagno da parte dei Greci, si veda in generale GINOUVÈS (1962). 53. Per un quadro sintetico su tali aspetti, cf. OAKLEY – SINOS (1993). 54. Pierre Brulé, nel discutere la fase della proteleia, fa rilevare come — al suo interno — il ricorso a una forma di katharsis quale è il bagno trovi spiegazione nella visione del matrimonio come “prova”, che richiede al soggetto che vi si sottopone di essere puro, pratica attestata da numerose tradizioni locali, che evocano il momento in cui le giovani donne si recano nei pressi di corsi d’acqua o fonti ; cf. BRULÉ (1987), p. 318–319. 55. GINOUVÈS (1962), passim. 56. Sch. ad Eur., Phoen., 347 : εἰώθασι γὰρ οἱ νυμφίοι τὸ παλαιὸν άπολούεσθαι ἐπὶ τοῖς ἐγχωρίοις ποταμοῖς καὶ περιρραίνεσθαι λαμβάνοντες ὕδωρ τῶν ποταμῶν καὶ πηγῶν, συμβολικῶς παιδοποιίαν εὐχόμενοι, ἐπεὶ ζωοποιὸν τὸ ὕδωρ καὶ γόνιμον. Vinciane Pirenne- Delforge ha opportunamente sottolineato come quella relativa allo Scamandro sia solo una delle testimonianze che permettono di mostrare come tali virtù fossero attribuite, a seconda delle regioni, a un fiume o una fonte particolari : l’Ismenio a Tebe, lo Scamandro a Troia, la fonte Calliroe ad Atene ; cf. PIRENNE-DELFORGE (1994a), p. 151. A tale potere fertilizzante delle acque sarebbe legato secondo alcuni anche il fatto che i fiumi siano rappresentati spesso nell’iconografia sotto forma di tori, simbolo di virilità. 57. Ps.-Aeschin., Ep. X, 3 ; cf. GERNET (1928) [= GERNET (1968), p. 41–42] ; e GERNET – BOULANGER (1932), p. 39. 58. Cf. GLOTZ (1904), cap. III ; tra gli esempi citati : Hom., Il. II, 854 ; Hdt., II, 104 ; Xen., Anab. V, 6, 9 e VI, 2, 1 ; Strab., XII, 3, 8. Glotz fa notare come l’Imbraso, il fiume di Samo presso il quale Zeus si unì ad Era e che — secondo la tradizione — era quello in cui ebbe luogo il bagno virginale che

Kernos, 27 | 2014 175

precedette il matrimonio sacro, si chiamasse originariamente Parthenios e conclude osservando : “les eaux qui avaient baigné la παρθένος divine en gardèrerent le nom […] et ne cessèrent jamais d’être associées au culte de l’Hèraion” (o.c., p. 73). 59. O.c., p. 74. Scrive Glotz : “Puisque le dieu de la source voulait des fleurs de virginité, il portait malheur aux jeunes filles qui s’offraient à lui déjà flétries. Il y avait donc là un moyen toujours facile pour une fiancée de montrer à celui qui devait l’épouser qu’elle était digne de lui” (ibidem). 60. CALAME (2009), p. 175. 61. Si vedano, in proposito, SCHACHTER (1981) ; PRANDI (1983) ; PRANDI (1988), p. 23 e LIMC, s.v. Hera. 62. Simbologia che gioca su un doppio livello : quello, sociale, della ‘pubblicizzazione’ dell’unione, essenziale a conferire legittimità alla stessa ; quello della unione sessuale tra i giovani sposi e del conseguente passaggio della donna dallo status di parthenos a quello di gyne, valenza riflessa — tra l’altro — nella testimonianza di Polluce, che glossa τὰ ἀνακαλυπτήρια con τὰ διαπαρθένια, ovvero doni mirati a conquistare la verginità della donna (Pollux, III, 39). 63. Il termine è impiegato dagli autori antichi per designare tanto la cerimonia in sè quanto i doni che, nel corso di questa, lo sposo era costume recasse alla sposa. Quanto alla cerimonia, bisogna tuttavia rilevare che, sulla base delle fonti, non c’è accordo tra gli studiosi circa la fase in cui essa aveva luogo ; molti ritengono però assai probabile che si svolgesse nel corso del banchetto di nozze, essendo questo il momento pubblico in cui la comunità era riunita ; sulla questione cf. da ultimo GHERCHANOC (2012), p. 111, con bibliografia precedente. 64. GHERCHANOC (2006), p. 252. Sugli anakalypteria si vedano ancora GERCHANOC (2009), p. 212–217 e GERCHANOC (2012), p. 111–113 ; per uno studio incentrato sulla documentazione iconografica, si veda infine DESCHODT (2011), p. 7, la quale insiste sul valore del gesto come espressione dello status della donna sposata e legato, nell’iconografia divina, in modo quasi esclusivo a figure quali Era ed Afrodite. Sulla logica simbolica che presiede al cambiamento, col matrimonio, dello statuto giuridico della giovane sposa, si veda anche CALAME (2009), p. 170. 65. Cf. DELG, s.v. νύμφη. 66. La testimonianza degli oratori mostra con chiarezza il valore attribuito agli anakalypteria i quali, venendo a marcare lo stabilimento di una relazione socialmente identificabile, potevano essere chiamati in causa, nel corso dei processi, nei casi di contestazioni di eredità o cittadinanza ; si veda p. es. Is., VI, 64. Sulla peculiarità del matrimonio greco, sancito — a livello giuridico — da una pluralità di atti dal forte valore simbolico, si veda VERNANT (1973). 67. Numerosi sono i contributi che, assumendo come chiave interpretativa proprio l’olocausto, hanno cercato spiegazioni possibili attraverso paralleli con altri contesti in cui il rito compaia. Quella richiamata più di frequente è l’associazione con il culto di Artemide Laphria a Patrai (Paus., VII, 18, 11–13), che presenta tuttavia differenze consistenti rispetto all’olocausto dei Daidala, prima fra tutte il fatto che le vittime vengono gettate nel fuoco non dopo essere state immolate, ma vive ; per interpretazioni relative al parallelo con il rito di Patrai,sivedano in via esemplificativa ZUNINO (1994) e, tra i contributi più recenti, PIRENNE-DELFORGE (2008), p. 218–229, e PARKER (2011), p. 167–169. 68. Si noti inoltre che, nella versione plutarchea, è Era stessa ad assumere l’ufficio di nymphagogos, alla testa del corteo formato dalle donne di Platea, mentre la distruzione del daidalon è motivata come atto di gelosia della dea. 69. Considerato il carattere marcatamente politico della festa, ci si aspetterebbe infatti l’usuale spartizione delle vittime a suggello dei legami fra le comunità e fra esse e i loro dei, ma per questo aspetto cf. infra. 70. Cf. GERNET – BOULANGER (1932), cap. I. Riflessione analoga è contenuta, nella forma condensata dell’articolo, in GERNET (1928). 71. Dobbiamo notare che è lo stesso scenario che ci è testimoniato anche da Plutarco. 72. GERNET – BOULANGER (1932), p. 45–46.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 176

73. Su un unico punto, riguardante lo specifico dei Daidala, la ricostruzione gernetiana non mi appare condivisibile : l’interpretazione del daidalon come “fiancée divine” poiché, come si è cercato di argomentare, il testo appare esplicito a questo riguardo. 74. Del fatto cioè che esso acquisti senso unicamente all’interno della dimensione rituale. Si noti inoltre che, se la verifica sull’indice delle Œuvres è corretta, l’esempio relativo alla festa dei Daidala non compare più in alcun luogo dell’opera edita ; cf. VERNANT (2007) 75. VERNANT (ds.), p. 58–59. Anche in Vernant, come già in Gernet, cui il testo vernantiano si mostra direttamente collegato, il daidalon è interpretato come idolo di Era. 76. Come già notava Nilsson, e come abbiamo cercato di argomentare, il daidalon è da intendere piuttosto come la riproduzione di una sposa dal punto di vista del rituale ; cf. NILSSON (1906), p. 52–53. 77. BODIOU – MEHL (2009). 78. PIRENNE-DELFORGE – PIRONTI (2009), contributo presentato come ‘atto primo’ di un libro a quattro mani su Era che le due studiose hanno in preparazione ; cf. n. 74, p. 109. 79. Ricostruibile attraverso varie testimonianze delle fonti scritte e del Periegeta in particolare. 80. Paus., VIII, 22, 2–3. 81. Le tre epiclesi scandiscono, secondo Madeleine Jost, uno schema che ricorre nei racconti relativi alle ‘dispute fra Era e Zeus’, per il quale cf. JOST (1997). 82. PIRENNE-DELFORGE – PIRONTI (2009), p. 97. 83. Ibidem. 84. Ibidem. 85. Eus., Praep. III, 1, 3. 86. Su questo aspetto, cf. PIRENNE-DELFORGE – PIRONTI (2009), p. 98. 87. Paus., II, 38,2 : καὶ Ποσειδῶνος ἱερὸν καὶ λιμένες εἰσὶν ἐν Ναυπλίᾳ καὶ πηγὴ Κάναθος καλουμένη. ἐνθαῦτα τὴν Ἥραν φασὶν Ἀργεῖοι κατὰ ἔτος λουμένην παρθένον γίνεσθαι. Οὗτος μὲν δή σφισιν ἐκ τελετῆς, ἥν ἄγουσι τῇ Ἥρᾳ, λόγος τῶν άπορρήτων ἐστίν. 88. Quanto alla localizzazione a Nauplia della cerimonia (il cui carattere annuale permette di pensare a un rituale ciclico), è opinione di Pirenne-Delforge e Pironti che essa possa essere letta come la fase di ritiro della dea dal luogo-principe della sua venerazione, Argo ; cf. l.c., p. 99. 89. PIRENNE-DELFORGE – PIRONTI (2009), p. 109. Per quanto riguarda tale soglia critica, si noti inoltre come un “tratto comune a differenti pratiche che accompagnano il matrimonio” venga individuato da Pauline Schmitt-Pantel nella apate presente anche nel nostro testo, cf. SCHMITT- PANTEL (1977), p. 1065 ; la studiosa descrive la apate come l’elemento che compare in numerose ierogamie a rendere possibile l’unione sessuale e analizza diffusamente i legami fra metis e apate e soglia critica rappresentata dal passaggio della donna dallo status di parthenos a quello di nymphe (per questi aspetti si vedano, in partic., p. 1068–1069). 90. Banque de Données des Epiclèses Grecques [BDEG], costruita e messa a punto dal Centre de Recherche et d’Étude des Sociétés et Cultures Antiques de la Méditerranée dell’Università di Rennes 2. La banca-dati è raggiungibile all’indirizzo : http://www.sites.univ-rennes2.fr/lahm/ crescam. 91. Con la sola eccezione di una iscrizione di Delfi, datata al IV sec. a. C., in cui compaiono le Μοῖραι τέλειαι ; per l’iscrizione cf. SEG III, 400 ; XXI, 341. Sulla attribuzione di una epiclesi in modo esclusivo a una divinità, Pirenne-Delforge e Pironti richiamano il parallelo con Afrodite Ourania ; cf. PIRENNE-DELFORGE – PIRONTI (2009), p. 100. 92. Pirenne-Delforge e Pironti mettono bene in luce come, a differenza di altre divinità femminili, Era non appaia mai dalle fonti come divinità legata alla propria prole o della quale sia enfatizzato l’aspetto materno, ma piuttosto quasi esclusivamente come sposa e sovrana dell’Olimpo accanto al marito ; a questa stessa caratterizzazione di Era corrisponderebbe secondo

Kernos, 27 | 2014 177

le due studiose l’immagine della dea nell’episodio iliadico della Διὸς ἀπάτη (Hom., Il. XIV, 153– 351) ; cf. l.c., p. 104–107, in partic. p. 107. 93. Paus., III, 13, 9 : ξόανον δὲ ἀρχαῖον καλοῦσιν Ἀφροδίτης Ἣρας. ἐπί δὲ θυγατρὶ γαμουμένῃ νενομίκασι τὰς μητέρας τῇ θεῷ θύειν. 94. Parzialmente diverse le interpretazioni di PARKER 2005a e PIRENNE-DELFORGE 1994 (per la quale cf. infra, n. 95), i quali non ritengono che il secondo nome divino sia interpretabile come una vera e propria epiclesi. Analizzando una serie di casi paralleli in cui compare un doppio nome cultuale (l’associazione cioè dei nomi di due divinità, o di una divinità e un eroe), Robert Parker cita il nostro caso come uno di quelli in cui la formulazione non esprime di fatto l’assimilazione di una divinità all’altra, ma “reconnaît plutôt que deux déesses, qui sont d’habitude bien distinctes, dans ce cas précis se rapprochent”, una osservazione che mi pare avvalorare l’ipotesi, che qui si propone, della giustapposizione di due aspetti diversi legati alla sfera matrimoniale ; PARKER (2005a), p. 225. 95. Come scrive Pirenne-Delforge : “la sphère matrimoniale tout entière trouve dans cette juxtaposition particulière une consécration divine” ; PIRENNE-DELFORGE (1994), p. 198. La studiosa si esprime tuttavia, poco più avanti, circa la possibilità alternativa di interpretare la giustapposizione dei due nomi divini a significare una ‘Afrodite Sovrana’ (o.c., p. 209–210). Si noti inoltre che ad una Afrodite Era potrebbe rimandare il contesto di un frammento di Alcmane, fr. 126 Calame (= 60 P), per il quale si veda la discussione contenuta in Pirenne-Delforge, o.c. (n. 28), p. 198. 96. Cf. PRANDI (2011). Si veda nel dettaglio il quadro che la studiosa ricostruisce a partire dalle testimonianze di Erodoto e Tucidide (l.c., p. 237–241), che permettono di mostrare come la contrapposizione fra la regione di Platea e Tebe si debba presumere esistente almeno dalla seconda metà del VI sec. a.C. 97. Stante la presenza dell’etnico onnicomprensivo ‘Beoti’ nel Catalogo delle navi (cf. Hom., Il. II. 494–510). 98. Cf. PRANDI (1988), p. 19–22. 99. Per le argomentazioni a sostegno di tale antichità, cf. supra. 100. Della possibilità di far risalire ad età arcaica il carattere panbeotico della festa è convinta Luisa Prandi, tornata più volte sull’argomento ; cf. PRANDI (1983) ; (1988), e (2011), p. 247–248, in cui è esplicitamente contestata l’ipotesi di Iversen secondo cui l’istituzione dei Daidala Megala sarebbe da connettere con il rientro dei Plateesi dall’esilio del 338 a.C. ; cf. IVERSEN (2007), p. 383– 384. 101. ROCCHI (1989). 102. Si ricordi come l’istituzione originaria della festa sia esplicitamente motivata come celebrazione della διαλλαγή intervenuta tra i due sposi divini (IX, 3, 2 : ἐπὶ ταύταις ταῖς διαλλαγαῖς Δαίδαλα ἑορτὴν ἄγουσιν) e come nel quadro della festa panbeotica la partecipazione dei Tebani sia il frutto della loro διαλλαγή con i Plateesi (IX, 3, 6 : διαλλαγῆναι γὰρ καὶ οὗτοι [Θηβαῖοι] Πλαταιεῦσιν ἠξίωσαν). Anche in Plutarco (Eus., Praep. III, 1, 6) l’istituzione della festa, ad opera della stessa Era, è conseguente alla riconciliazione. 103. ROCCHI (1989), p. 322. La studiosa cita a supporto Hom., Il. XIX, 266–268. ; Paus., III, 20, 9 ; V, 24, 10. Sulle forme del sacrificio animale che non prevedevano il consumo delle carni della vittima immolata, si veda da ultimo PARKER (2011), p. 144–150. 104. ROCCHI (1989), p. 323. 105. Cf. FARAONE (1993). 106. Cf. SEG IX, 3 ; MEIGGS-LEWIS (1969), 5 ; Nomima, I, 41. L’iscrizione, contenente il cd. ‘Decreto di fondazione di Cirene’, sancisce le obbligazioni reciproche intercorrenti tra i coloni che partono alla volta dell’Africa e gli abitanti della madrepatria, Thera ; l’altro parallelo richiamato da Rocchi è quello relativo al giuramento dei re di Atlantide (Plat., Crit., 119d ss.). Sulle relazioni tra

Kernos, 27 | 2014 178

giuramento e olocausto per i due casi richiamati, si veda GERNET (1951) [= GERNET (1968), p. 207– 217]. Il caso dell’iscrizione di Cirene è particolarmente vicino a quello dei Daidala poichè il giuramento viene pronunciato gettando nel fuoco dei kolossoi di cera precendentemente plasmati dai contraenti, i quali così, attraverso un rito di sostituzione, invocano la distruzione su di sè e la propria discendenza in caso di spergiuro ; cf. GERNET, l.c., p. 213 e VERNANT (1965a) [= VERNANT (1965) [19852], p. 328–329]. Per argomentazioni e paralleli circa la diffusione nel bacino del Mediterraneo di tali forme di ‘magia simpatica’ all’interno di rituali di giuramento sin da epoca arcaica, cf. FARAONE (1993). 107. CARASTRO (2012), p. 89 (corsivo mio). Il contributo oltre a mettere in risalto l’importanza della dimensione sacrificale nei contesti di giuramento, offre una interessante rilettura dei dati dell’iscrizione cirenaica. 108. Per una discussione articolata di questi aspetti in ambito greco, cf. VERNANT (1973). 109. MARCONI (1994). Per il suggerimento, rivelatosi prezioso, di un possibile parallelo con il ciclo figurativo dell’Heraion di Selinunte, sono debitrice ad Alessia Dimartino. 110. Lo stesso schema oppositivo si ripete, analogo, sulle due facciate ; cf. MARCONI (1994), passim, e LÉVÊQUE (1996), p. 95–96. Particolarmente significativo il fatto che nelle metope laterali siano rappresentati personaggi che ricevono la punizione degli dei per essersi in qualche modo posti contro “la buona fisiologia dell’istituzione matrimoniale”, cf. MARCONI, o.c., p. 307 ; emblematici in tal senso gli esempi dell’Amazzone, di Atteone, delle Pretidi. 111. MARCONI (1994), p. 277–278. Varie le allusioni simboliche, prima fra tutte il fatto che la dea sia scalza, una condizione che — dai paralleli iconografici — risulta essere simbolo di purezza e dunque, nel caso di Era, richiamo alla sua condizione di parthenos (o.c., p. 287). Si noti peraltro che nel fregio compaiono altre coppie di sposi (Poseidone e Anfitrite ; Ares e Afrodite), divinità non solo “variamente vincolate a Era”, ma che “ribadiscono il ruolo dell’istituto matrimoniale nell’assicurare stabilità” (o.c., p. 307). I Daidala sono citati dall’autore come esempio di riplasmazione dello hieros gamos sul matrimonio degli uomini, e le statuette interpretate come simulacri di Era (o.c., p. 281). 112. Paus., IX, 2, 7. 113. Su questi aspetti, con particolare riferimento ad Atene, cf. SCHMITT-PANTEL (1977), p. 1068– 1069. 114. MARCONI (1994), p. 306. 115. A questo riguardo, cf. SCHMITT-PANTEL (2008), p. 307.

RIASSUNTI

L’article analyse la fête béotienne des Daidala dont Pausanias a conservé le souvenir (IX, 2, 7–3, 8). Tant l’aition (introduit pour expliquer pourquoi l’Héra de Platées porte l’épithète de Nympheomene) que la description de la fête dans sa double forme de Petits et Grands Daidala présentent des aspects qui méritent l’attention. Le texte présente un scénario rituel assez complexe, probablement le fruit d’une longue stratification d’éléments d’origine diverse. La description de la fête que fournit Pausanias pose une série de questions touchant au statut de l’image cultuelle, aux rites pré-matrimoniaux, à l’existence d’un cycle mythique d’Héra lié aux transformations physiologiques de la parthenos, à la signification politique de la fête pour les communautés béotiennes.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 179

This article examines the Boiotian festival of the Daidala as described by Pausanias (IX, 2, 7–3, 8), in its dual form of Small Daidala and Great Daidala. The aetiological myth (aiming to explain why Hera was worshipped at Plataea as Nympheuomene), as well as the description of the festival, are interesting at various levels. The text describes a very complex ritual background, which is the product of a patchwork of elements of different origins. The description provided by Pausanias poses a set of questions concerning the status of the ritual image, wedding rites, the existence of a mythical cycle of Hera connected with the physiological transformations of the parthenoi, and the political significance of the festival for the communities of Boiotian worshippers.

AUTORE

FIORELLA LA GUARDIA Laboratorio di Antropologia del Mondo Antico (http://lama.humnet.unipi.it) Dipartimento di Filologia, Letteratura e Linguistica (Sez. Greco) Università di Pisa [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 180

The Pasikrata Sanctuary at Demetrias and the alleged funerary sanctuaries of Thessaly A re-appraisal*

Maria Stamatopoulou

Introduction — History of the investigations at the site

1 During his investigations in the southern cemetery of Demetrias (Fig. 1), A.S. Arvanitopoulos excavated between 1912–1915 a number of deep pits that were found scattered among graves of various periods, reportedly near the remains of a medieval building (Fig. 2). According to him, the pits were located very near the 5th Stelai-tower and a gate of the fortification wall, by the road to Alykes (Fig. 3).1 Most of the pits were small in size and contained clay figurines. A larger pit discovered at considerable depth contained stone inscribed altars, marble statuettes, stone inscribed stelai and a life-size marble head,2while another pit, found very close to the modern ground surface, contained clay figurines, clay altars with elaborate decoration, pots, lamps, small votives, heads belonging to marble statuettes and parts of a large scale clay bust or statue.3

2 Based on the numerous objects of votive character in the pits, Arvanitopoulos ascribed the finds to a sanctuary of Pasikrata, named in the inscriptions, whom he identified with Aphrodite because of a few statuettes depicting the goddess, and Artemis En(n)odia and proposed that it was in use from the 3rd century BC to the late 2nd–3rd century AD.4 N. Papachatzis was the first to discuss the sanctuary in depth, in an influential article published in the journal Thessalika of 1958, which established Pasikrata as a funerary deity. He identified Pasikrata with “Aphrodite of the Dead” because he considered the location of the sanctuary, in the vicinity of graves, as indicative of the nature of the venerated deity. His interpretation was widely accepted and led to the characterization of numerous periurban sanctuaries in the region and elsewhere as funerary.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 181

3 Since 2002 I have been entrusted with the publication of Arvanitopoulos’ excavations in the cemeteries of Demetrias, a project that was seriously hampered by the lack of documentation in the archaeological museums of Volos and Athens and the re-display works in both museums. What will be discussed in this article stems from my work on the site, the study of the relevant archival material and the examination of a large number of the finds.5 I hope to show that, contrary to what is usually proposed about the Pasikrata sanctuary, cult at the site was not funerary in nature but rather it aimed at the well-being and the prophylaxis of young women and children.

4 It is very difficult to reconstruct the situation described in the excavation reports of Arvanitopoulos. As noted by the excavator himself, this area had been in continuous use from the 4th century BC to late antiquity, and there was therefore much disturbance at the site.6

5 The excavation was not completed by Arvanitopoulos and no overall plan of the investigated area was ever published. In addition, the excavation daybook of the 1912 season was lost near modern Amyntaio during the Balkan Wars when Arvanitopoulos was drafted.7 Finally, the exact site of the sanctuary cannot be identified today because of the alteration of the terrain in the course of the 20th century.8 Be that as it may, the photographs illustrating the excavation show that the excavated area lay very near the fortifications and the 5th Stelai-tower, to its south (Fig. 2–4).9 The study of the extant excavation daybooks has revealed that Arvanitopoulos investigated only part of the area near the 5th Stelai-tower, as he soon concentrated his efforts further west and south. It seems that after 1912 he did not find more votive deposits.10

The Pasikrata Sanctuary at Demetrias

Location of the sanctuary (Fig. 4)

6 The pits were indeed situated near graves; however, owing to the disturbance of the area by later use — funerary and other — the exact relationship of the pits to the graves of the Hellenistic and Roman periods is not clear. Moreover, it is likely that a few of the figurines illustrated in the various publications were not found in the deposits themselves but were stray finds, scattered throughout the nearby area.11

7 The number, character and date of the objects found in the pits suggest that they belonged to a sanctuary and that their deposition was possibly the result of cleaning operations of the site. No trace of a cult building related to these pits was found in the excavations. This was considered problematic by Arvanitopoulos, who originally suggested that the sanctuary was perhaps located elsewhere and that the offerings were transferred to the site in later times.12 Papachatzis considered this unlikely because the finds span a period of at least five centuries and such a removal of an entire sanctuary deposit would, according to him, be a rare occurrence.13 As with Demetrias, there are often cases of large deposits found outside the fortifications of settlements, near the cemeteries, containing objects that were most likely collected as a result of cleaning operations of shrines14 or of purification of burial grounds, as for example at the Mosè necropolis, east of Acragas,15 or the very large deposit at Amphissa in Phocis.16 At the latter, apit measuring 2.65 × 1.75 m was investigated near the ancient cemetery and contained 1,003 coins and nearly 900 figurines of various types, mainly female figures, women with birds, kourotrophic images, animal figurines, grotesques,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 182

kernoi, miniature vessels, small plaques. The character of the finds suggests that they belong to a sanctuary deposit. Yet, contrary to the Amphissa deposit where epigraphic evidence is lacking, at Demetrias the presence of inscribed votive stelai and incense burners and the base mentioning a priestess of Pasikrata (Fig. 19) make it certain that we are dealing with artefacts coming from a sanctuary. The absence of architectural remains need not be problematic,17 especially given the disturbance of the area. At Syracuse in the sanctuary of (most likely) Demeter and Kore at Piazza della Vittoria in the Achradina district, architectural remains of the cult/temple building were very limited and identifiable only by the negative of the foundation trenches of the walls.18

8 Regarding the Pasikrata sanctuary, it is likely that either Arvanitopoulos did not identify the building among the various walls which he excavated (and ascribed to funerary buildings) or that if there was originally a cult-building it was made of modest materials which did not fare well with time and were dismissed by him as ‘later’/ ‘crude’. Of course we should not exclude the possibility that, during the enlargement of the fortifications and the extension of the towers at the southern part of the city walls of Demetrias, there were changes in the area and that the sanctuary’s contents were moved from their original location. This might be supported by the discovery, at the lower levels of the 5th Stelai-Tower, of figurines identical to those found in the pits.19 In any case, the fact remains that the sanctuary was located very near one of the city gates of Demetrias, most likely outside the fortifications, in the southern sector of the city, overlooking the harbour/bay (at modern Alykes).

The finds

9 The votives included a very large number of clay figurines, datable from the 3rd century BC to the 2nd century AD, but predominantly of Hellenistic date. 20 The recent re- discovery of the figurines in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens has demonstrated their typological variety and has shown that the most popular types were:21 dressed standing or, less often, seated women of the ‘Tanagra’ type, figurines of young females and girls, and boys in Macedonian dress, with kausia, short belted chiton, chlamys and boots (Fig. 5–6).22

10 A number of statuettes and relief clay plaques depict Aphrodite, singly or in the company of Eros. Notable among the figurines are the statuettes of a kourotrophos, a bull attacked by a dog, a hydriaphoros, a bovine protome, and the Roman period emblema(Fig. 7).23

11 Part of a large-scale clay bust or statue, representing a female figure dressed in a high- girded peplos (Fig. 8),24 and other fragments suggest that there may have originally been large-scale clay sculpture.25 The discovery of clay ‘figurine-patrices’, if not coincidental, should point to the existence of pottery workshops in the nearby area (Fig. 7, top row the 3rd and 4th from the left; Fig. 9–10).26 This would be in agreement with other Thessalian sites, for example Metropolis and Pherai, where pottery workshops were located very near the fortification walls.27

12 According to Arvanitopoulos, pottery finds were plentiful, but unfortunately only a few can be identified with certainty, a fact that hinders its interpretation in this context:28 these are of Hellenistic and Roman date and include, cups, jugs, small bowls, an incense burner andnumerous lamps (Fig. 11–12).29 Notable among the pottery is a clay West-slope

Kernos, 27 | 2014 183

deep phiale, bearing on the relief medallion an erotic scene in the presence of Eros (Fig. 13).30

13 Among the sculptural dedications an over life-size marble female head of Hellenistic date stands out (Fig. 14 a–b). On the basis of its size, material and high-quality craftsmanship it is thought to have belonged to a cult statue that is usually identified as Aphrodite.31 In the absence of any secure attributes, the generic facial features could fit any female divinity.32

14 The other sculptural dedications comprised of a number of marble statuettes, some unfinished, depicting Aphrodite holding an Eros (Fig. 16),33 Artemis as a huntress (Fig. 17),34 a standing female (Fig. 18).35 They can all be dated to the Hellenistic period.

15 Inscribed votive monuments mention mostly Pasikrata and once Artemis Enodia.36 These are: the stone base for the dedication of the priestess Theano, daughter of Theotimos, to mark the completion of her service as a priestess, in letters of the 3rd c BC (Fig. 19);37 two naiskos stelai of the 3 rd century BC naming women, the dedication of Boubalis to Pasikrata (Fig. 20),38 and that of Melita, daughter of Gerostratos (Fig. 21);39 two small marble inscribed altars (incense burners?) dedicated by men: the small cylindrical altar bearing the dedication by Menekrates and Demetrios to Artemis Enodia, dated to the early 2nd century BC (Fig. 22),40 and the cubic altar with the dedication by Protas in letters of the 2nd century AD (Fig. 23);41 and a shaft stele dedicated by Zopyros and Hippolyte for the wellbeing of their daughters inscribed in letters of the late 3rd – early 2nd century BC (Fig. 24).42 The dedicatory formulas on the votives addressed to Pasikrata, euxamene on the stele offered by Melita, euchen on the small altar naming Protas, are indicative of the assisting nature of the deity. An unpublished fragmentary stele in the Volos Museum bears a dedication by –ima the daughter of Antiochos to [Pas]ikrata epekoos as gift, in letters that suggest a date in the 1st – 2nd centuries AD; it preserves part of its relief decoration, possibly an ear. Heinz has attributed it to the Pasikrata sanctuary; if it were really from the site it would offer significant clues to the character of the deity.43

16 It is evident from the type and number of votives that this was an organised sanctuary, with a priesthood, that received dedications by both men and women, and was in use from the 3rd century BC to the 2nd century AD. The material evidence is too meagre to enable a reconstruction of the ritual, however it had involved the burning of offerings on the small altars/incense burners,44 and possibly nocturnal rituals. 45 The votive offerings reveal a strong association with women and children, both boys and girls. The emphasis on the well-being and prophylaxis of children/young persons is further hinted at by the image of the kourotrophos figurine and dedicatory formulas: εὐξαμένη for Melita, daughter of Gerostratos, ὑπέρ τῶν θυγατέρων in the dedication of Zopyros and Hippolyte, and εὐχήν for Protas.46

The venerated deities

17 The deity/ies worshipped in the sanctuary are Pasikrata and Artemis En(n)odia. Pasikrata is evidently an epiclesis, similar to that of Pankrates in Athens.47 Arvanitopoulos linked Pasikrata with Aphrodite because of the presence of the Aphrodite figurines and the marble female head, which he identified as belonging the cult statue of the goddess.48 Papachatzis first, and then most scholars, have called her ‘Aphrodite of the dead’, because of the presence of Aphrodite figurines among the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 184

finds, the location of the sanctuary within a cemetery, and the strong association of the cult with women.49 Papachatzis had stressed the emphasis on the well being of children and fertility but he saw no contradiction between a funerary and a kourotrophic cult at the same site.50

18 A cult of Aphrodite in a cemetery at first appears out of place. Literary sources attest to her cult in relation to the dead, for example Plutarch refers to Aphrodite as epitymbia at Delphi,51 where she received libations aimed to recall the dead. However, we should bear in mind the Roman date of these testimonia, which thus may not reflect realities of the Hellenistic period.

19 The archaeological evidence suggests that in various regions during the Hellenistic period, especially Macedonia, there was a pronounced interest in Aphrodite and her circle in funerary contexts. This is implied by the large number of figurines of Aphrodite, Erotes, naked women, females and protomai deposited in, mainly, female graves, aiming to ensure her protection.52 Some have seen these as evidence for the assimilation of the cult of Aphrodite and Persephone. Demetrias was a Macedonian foundation, therefore the existence of similar cults/phenomena is likely.53 At the same time we should bear in mind that the placing of female statuettes, female busts, jewellery and Erotes in female graves could be related to the age of the deceased, who in some cases have been shown to be young mothers or girls of marriageable age.54 It has become increasingly common to identify female protomai or busts found in 4th century and Hellenistic graves as ‘Pasikrata/Aphrodite of the Dead’, often without adequate justification for the characterization.55 In votive contexts recent scholarship has questioned the association of protomai with a specific deity/ies, let alone with ‘chthonic’-funerary ones,56 but in funerary contexts the issue is still under debate and systematic studies are lacking.57 Moreover, it is well known that the cult of deities such Artemis, Aphrodite, Persephone can be multifarious and should be examined in their specific, regional, context/audience, as is evident at Locri Epizephyrii, where Persephone was venerated as protector of marriage and young women.58

20 Pasikrata/eia is attested outside Demetrias in Epirus, northern Macedonia and Sicily.59 In the sanctuary of Demeter Malophoros at Selinous, outside the city gates, Pasikrateia was worshipped together with Malophoros and Zeus Meilichios; she has been plausibly identified with Persephone or Artemis.60 In Epirus Pasikrata was used as an epiclesis for Artemis on two votive monuments dedicated by men, found at Ambrakia61 and Panagia Prevezas.62 In ancient Herakleia Lynkestis (Sudovol), Pasikrata was related to the manumission of slaves in a sanctuary of the 3rd c. AD.63

21 The preliminary study of the finds from the Pasikrata sanctuary reveals that its close geographical proximity with the cemetery does not seem to have involved distinct votive offerings, different from the ones we should expect in urban sanctuaries.64 The similarity to the offerings of the favissa on Hill 35,65 and the so-called ‘Thesmophorion’ at the eastern edge of the city, near the fortification walls, is significant.66 The votives from the Pasikrata sanctuary suggest cult performed by both women and men/youths, and dedications of terracotta images of children (boys and girls), young females,67 or dedications for the well-being and prophylaxis of children.

22 Although attested, Aphrodite was not a major kourotrophic deity.68 The other deity mentioned in the inscriptions and depicted in the marble statuettes is Artemis En(n)odia.69 As is well known En(n)odia is an indigenous deity, whose cult was widespread in Thessaly and is attested epigraphically in the region from the 5th

Kernos, 27 | 2014 185

century.70 She is represented on reliefs and Pheraean coins standing or on horseback, with one or two torches, accompanied by her favourite animal attributes, a dog or horse. A goddess that protects pathways and crossroads, En(n)odia is also, especially in the interpretations by Kraus and Chrysostomou, a ‘chthonian’ deity,71 or goddess of the underworld, worshipped in cemeteries, related to ghosts and witchcraft (Polyaenus, Strategemata, VIII, 43).72 M. Mili and D. Graninger have justly challenged this dominant ‘chthonic’/funerary feature of En(n)odia.73 Outside Thessaly, she was assimilated with Artemis and in particular with Hekate, with whom she also shared the connection with to pathways and crossroads and her kourotrophic functions.

The so-called ‘funerary’ sanctuaries

Periurban sanctuaries of En(n)odia and other deities in Thessaly

23 In Thessaly epigraphic and archaeological evidence shows that En(n)odia was often venerated in extra-urban sanctuaries near the city walls and the cemeteries. Scholars have often ascribed a ‘funerary’ aspect to these cults/sanctuaries.74 At Pherai two periurban sanctuaries have been identified to which ‘funerary’ associations have often been proposed (Fig. 25). The main sanctuary, with the well-known monumental peripteral Doric temple to the goddess, was located to the northeast of the city, outside the city walls, by a torrent and the road to Larisa (Fig. 26).75It was founded sometime in the late 8th century at the site of an Early Iron Age cemetery. Epigraphic evidence shows that the sanctuary was used until at least the 2nd century BC. Votives found in favissae to the southwest of the temple date from the late 8th to the 4th century BC and include many bronzes, clay figurines and protomai. Some scholars have attributed a ‘chthonic’/funerary aspect to the cult on the basis of the location of the temple at the site of an earlier cemetery,76 and the alleged ‘chthonic’ nature of the venerated deities, En(n)odia and Zeus Thaulios.77

24 It is unlikely that funerary connotations are tenable in this case. With regards to the proximity of the sanctuary to earlier graves, the inauguration of cult in an area that had previously been designated for burials need not imply a funerary character. The area around the temple has not been fully explored,78 therefore we cannot be certain of the chronological relationship of the graves to the first votives. During the Classical and Hellenistic periods, it seems that the sanctuary was on the edge of the large necropolis, immediately outside the city.79

25 The factors determining the choice of site for the Pheraean sanctuary in the 8th century BC could be related to its proximity to a water source and a major road, the one leading to Larisa.80 Mazarakis Ainian has shown that during the Late Geometric period urban sanctuaries were often founded in areas that had previously been burial grounds.81 The memory that there were graves at the site might have worked at another level: setting the site aside for ritual use as in the case of the shrines at the SW corner of the Athenian agora.82

26 The dedication of the sanctuary to En(n)odia and Zeus Thaulios during the Classical and Hellenistic periods is undisputed. As proposed by Mili in her doctoral thesis,83 a funerary aspect of her cult is highly unlikely for various reasons. Firstly, because of the scale and size of the sanctuary. What is usually discovered in cemeteries are modest constructions, usually of oikos or megaron plan.84 By contrast the large stone peripteral

Kernos, 27 | 2014 186

Doric temple is carefully built and among the most monumental Thessalian temples. Secondly, fourteen decrees of the city of Pherai were found in the temple and favissae area. Among them were proxeny decrees and an inventory list of votives, recording dedications by civic magistrates, a feature that suggests that this was a major civic sanctuary.85 It is highly unlikely that the decrees of a city would have been set in a cemetery or that magistrates would be making dedications in a funerary shrine.86 Bearing in mind the considerable investment in the sanctuary and the type of dedications it is therefore more likely that the location of the temple is in agreement with a civic role of for En(n)odia. Epigraphic evidence from Thessaly provides us with ample evidence for civic functions of En(n)odia:87 she is called Fastika in a 5th-century inscription from Larisa,88Patroa in Pagasai and Larisa, Polias in other cities.89

27 Although the course of the fortification walls in this part of Pherai is not yet known, it is evident that the sanctuary was very near the city, and next to a major road. The location of the sanctuary is in agreement with En(n)odia’s role as an intermediary, a protector of roads and crossroads. It is paralleled in Thessaly at numerous sites, for example at Phthiotic Thebes, where votive stelai were found outside but near the southern part of the city walls,90 and Larisa, where in an inscription that refers to the area outside the southern fortification wall, there is mention of a stele dedicated to En(n)odia that was set outside the gates among other shrines and cult places.91

28 The other periurban sanctuary of Pherai where En(n)odia was most probably venerated was found at the locality Alepotrypes in the southwest cemetery of the city, near the fortification walls (Fig. 25).92 There, following the destruction of graves by the owner of the land, the foundations of a building, rectangular in plan, were excavated, almost at surface level,93 among graves of the Early Iron Age and Hellenistic period.94 Inside the building, near its northwest corner,95 a large shallow pit was found that contained numerous objects of votive character, such as the lower part of a marble two-sided relief and its base, clay figurines of seated and standing female figures, parts of a large clay thymiaterion, a clay coiled snake, two clay heads depicting bearded men and parts of a large-scale clay sculpture.96 More fragments of clay figurines and clay female protomai were found in the fill of the building and outside, to its west. As the artefacts suggest, the sanctuary must have been in use in the Classical and Hellenistic periods, from the 5th century BC onwards.97

29 A marble votive stele that had been re-used as a side of a cist grave of late Hellenistic date that had destroyed part of the northwest wall of the building,98bearsa dedicatory inscription which is extremely difficult to read (and has been dated on letter forms to the mid-4th century). According to Chrysostomou, it names En(n)odia and another god, whose name is mostly lost, which he reconstructs as Zeus Meilichios.99 Even if Chrysostomou’s reading is incorrect, as the editors of SEG propose,100 theidentification of the deity worshipped at the shrine with En(n)odia is probable given the importance of her cult at Pherai and the type of some of the finds, namely, the clay figurine showing a standing female figure, dressed in a peplos and holding in both hands two long rods, which could be torches (Fig. 27).101The typological similarity to representations of En(n)odia on Hellenistic votive stelai, particularly the relief from Exochi, is clear.102 The discovery of the front part of a clay horse, one of her sacred animals, in the same deposit may also be relevant.103

30 The identification of the male divinity worshipped at the site with Zeus Meilichios rested on the discovery of two almost life-size clay heads of bearded male figures in the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 187

same deposit. The best preserved one, dated on stylistic grounds to the second half of the 5th century BC, has its lower part hollow, possibly in order to be secured to a wooden post (Fig. 28).104 The austere facial features can suit any of the mature gods: Poseidon, Zeus or Hades.105 The discovery of parts of a clay coiled snake next to the head has been seen as a ‘chthonic’ element,106and has led to the identification of the figure as Zeus Meilichios, a god often depicted in the form of a snake, whose cult is well-attested in Thessaly during the Classical and Hellenistic periods.107 The presence of Zeus in relation to En(n)odia would not be out of place in Thessaly. The two gods were venerated together in the major sanctuary of En(n)odia at Pherai. Moreover, a votive naos was dedicated to En(n)odia and Zeus Meilichios by Makon, a prominent citizen of Larisa, in the 2nd century BC.108

31 The cult of Zeus Meilichios in burial grounds is well attested from numerous sites, for example at Palaiopolis on Andros, where in the eastern cemetery of the city a boundary inscription carved on the face of the rock designated the area as a shrine to the god.109 In Rhodes, adjacent to the exterior face of the southern part of the fortification wall were groups of pyres in small pits lined with stones, containing small cups, olpai, animal bones and lamps; one of the pyres, no. 18, preserved on its lid an inscription in the genitive that showed that the area was consecrated to Zeus Meilichios, and in use in the 3rd century BC.110 Near Cyrene, at Ain Hofra, niches and votive inscriptions to Zeus Meilichios and the Eumenides were found in an area that was in very close proximity to graves, namely the ‘Archaic tomb sanctuary’.111 It has been stressed in scholarship that cult to Zeus Meilichios was often performed by kinship and gentilitial groups, aiming to avert the danger of pollution in death, or for purification of murder.112 Therefore, the veneration of Zeus Meilichios in such contexts is easily explained and perhaps finds parallels in the cult of Zeus Meilichios or Phonios outside city gates.

32 To summarize, the shrine at Alepotrypes was in use from the late 5th/early 4th centuries BC until the Hellenistic period, when it was destroyed by graves built on the walls of the building. The location, size and construction of the building and the type of finds do not preclude that it was funerary in character, however a parallel, contemporary, use of the sanctuary and the burial ground is not proven. Thus, the precise relationship of the building to contemporary graves is uncertain. Despite these limitations and although the inscribed votive stele was not found in situ, the cumulative evidence from the sanctuary implies that the identification of the main female deity worshipped at the site with En(n)odia is reasonable. The location of the sanctuary at Alepotrypes is significant. The proximity to the fortifications, a water source and a road are all features that this shrine shares with the large sanctuary of En(n)odia at the northeast periphery of Pherai. Could the cult of En(n)odia at this site have been related to her role as protector of gates and passes and not to the dead?

33 Two inscriptions, from Skotoussa113 and Larisa, offer invaluable information about cult places in the proximity of city walls. The Larisa inscription is an inventory of sacred spaces situated near and outside city walls.114 It mentions numerous shrines dedicated to gods, such as Athena Patria, Apollo Pythios, but also cult places and stelai dedicated to En(n)odia, Demeter Ploutia, Zeus Phonios, various heroes, as well as the hipparcheion. It has been proposed that the areas described in the inventory were probably situated on a low hill, very near the southwest cemetery of the city. Although some cults, like that of Zeus Phonios, or En(n)odia Mykaike could perhaps be seen to have underworld

Kernos, 27 | 2014 188

connotations,115 the same is not tenable for all cult places described in the inscription. 116

34 I do not want to exclude the possibility of cult of Underworld deities and/or dead ancestors in shrines that were deliberately founded within cemeteries.117 A possible example in Thessaly could be the ‘oikoi’ excavated by B. Intzesiloglou at Prodromos near Karditsa. There, during small-scale rescue excavations on the southeastern border of the village, at the locality Bourdenia, a small part of a cemetery was discovered, with burials dating to the late 6th and first half of the 5th century.118Among the graves, about 20 m west-soutwest, the foundations of four small buildings were found at very shallow depth, near the modern surface, one next to the other, built of fragments of Laconian roof tiles. According to the excavator, one of the foundations is of the megaron type, while the other three are simple ‘oikoi’, that is, they consist of a simple rectangular room, approximately 4.60 m by 4.20 m, with the entrance opening to the south and a wall width of about 0.40 m.119 Shallow pits were found among the buildings and contained clay figurines depicting riders, standing or seated female figures wearing a high polos, and fragments of coarsely hand-made kernoi, which have been dated on stylistic grounds to the late 6th and early 5th centuries BC. Based on the votive character of these finds, the excavator interpreted this area as belonging to a sanctuary. The proximity to the burial ground and the contemporary use of the buildings to the graves would be in agreement with an identification as a funerary sanctuary. But as nothing diagnostic was found inside the ‘oikoi’ and the divinity venerated at the site is not known, we cannot be certain whether the buildings were used for cult of underworld deities.

35 I also do not wish to deny the existence of ritual performances in relation to tombs. A puzzling structure has been investigated in the northern cemetery of Demetrias, namely a semi-circular theatre-like exedra, cut in the rock and offering a good view to the Gulf of Pagasai (Fig. 1, no. 2; Fig. 29).120 The location of the exedra among the graves could imply the performance of rituals in relation to the dead. However, in the absence of any finds from it, neither its date nor the character of the rituals performed can be ascertained.121

36 The wish to ensure divine protection for the dead is expressed in Thessaly by the dedication of the Hellenistic gravestones to Hermes Chthonios, through the depiction of a herm and/or a dedicatory inscription to him in dative or genitive.122 A similar wish to ensure divine protection and a better future in the afterlife is revealed by the discovery, in some Thessalian graves of the late 4th and 3 rd centuries BC, of gold inscribed strips, addressed to Persephone, Dionysos, and Demeter Chthonia.123

37 What I would like to point out is that, similarly to the situation within Thessaly, in most of the cases where sanctuaries or buildings were identified in proximity to cemeteries, and where a ‘funerary’ aspect has been proposed for the cult/purpose of the building, the evidence was problematic, either because of the limited exploration of the site or because of a chronological gap between the burials and cult activity.124

38 The interpretation of Thessalian periurban sanctuaries as funerary has been heavily influenced by the reconstruction of Thessalian religion proposed by Papachatzis, and recently advocated by Chrysostomou. Papachatzis suggested that in Thessaly, not only Artemis, Aphrodite and Zeus, but also other Olympian deities, such as Athena Itonia and Poseidon, had a strong ‘chthonic aspect’, especially in early periods, namely the 10th to 6 th centuries BC. 125 This prominence of ‘chthonic’ cults was attributed to the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 189

alleged political and geographical isolation of Thessaly, at least until the Archaic period, an interpretation that was influenced by the evolutionary model of religion and by preconceptions about the primitive character of the Greek ethne. Recent studies, mainly by Morgan and McInerney, on the Greek ethne have shown this to be false.126

39 It is true that En(n)odia, a deity often worshipped in the Thessalian extramural shrines, appears in, mainly Athenian, literary sources as a goddess related to Demeter and the realm of the dead.127 This however need not imply that the shrines found in peri-urban locations in the region, outside the fortifications of the city and often near gates, were funerary in character.128 The role of the goddess as protector of roads and passes could have been more significant in the choice of location.129

Artemis En(n)odia, Artemis and Pasikrata

40 To return to Demetrias and the cult of Artemis En(n)odia at the site: as mentioned earlier, the small cylindrical altar/incense burner from the sanctuary of Pasikrata mentions Artemis Enodia. Recently García Ramón and Helly have proposed that Artemis En(n)odia resulted from a syncretism between the local En(n)odia and the panhellenic Artemis, to whom they a ascribe kourotrophic role.130

41 Artemis is a goddess whose kourotrophic functions are very well documented.131 In Thessaly she was worshipped as protector of young children and women at numerous sites.132 At Gonnoi, where there was a major intramural sanctuary at the edge of the city near the walls and the gate to Mt Olympos, she bore the epicleseis Eileithyia, Lochia, Eyonymos, Genetaira, and received numerous dedications by women.133 She is also known as Lochia at Larisa and Pththiotic Thebes,134 Eileithyia (with various spellings) at Larisa, Pythion,135 and Throsia at Larisa, Kalochori and Atrax, where her cult might have involved complex rituals that ensured transition of young girls to adulthood.136 At Echinos, in the perioikic region of Malis, the well-known votive relief showing the presentation of a baby girl to Artemis and the dedication of clothing to the goddess is a clear indication of the cult of Artemis in the city as protection of childbirth and young children.137 En(n)odia too had probably a kourotrophic role, as was recently advocated by García Ramón and Helly, on the basis of the attested koroutarra on a small stele in the Benaki Museum in Athens,138 and strogika patroa (the affectionate) in Larisa.139

42 Given the use of Pasikrata as an epithet of Artemis in Epirus and Macedonia it is likely that the epiclesis Pasikrata at Demetrias could have been linked with Artemis, perhaps in her role as protective goddess of young women and children.140 This would fit well both with the dedicatory inscriptions and the location of the sanctuary on the border zone between the settlement and the cemeteries, overlooking the sea, as well as with the plethora of figurines of young women and children among the finds.141 Unfortunately the absence of specific formulas in the dedicatory inscriptions or of diagnostic finds, except for the single kourotrophic figurine, among the terracottas that have been studied so far, does not allow us to determine whether the deity was concerned with specific stages of children’s lives, and/or whether maturation rituals were practised at the site.

43 A similar identification has recently been proposed for the formerly-called ‘Sanctuary of Aphrodite’ at Epidamnos/Dyrrachion.142 There, in 1970–71 large votive deposits were found in the cemetery area, belonging to a sanctuary that was possibly located outside the city walls. Finds included black glaze pottery, mostly kotylai, red-figure Apulian

Kernos, 27 | 2014 190

vessels, metal objects, 600 small bronze coins. The majority of the finds were terracottas: clay protomai and busts (80% of the terracottas) and female statuettes. The latter included standing draped women, naked women as well as figurines of Artemis, a group of Aphrodite and Eros.143 The hypothesis of Muller and Tartari that the sanctuary must have been dedicated to Artemis, as protector of fertility and marriage, was confirmed by the discovery of a graffito mentioning Artemis and Hekate.144 Similar to the Demetrias deposits, at Epidamnos/Dyrrachion there is evidence that there was a terracotta workshop in close proximity to the area of the sanctuary.145

44 Shrines of Artemis were often situated at liminal locations: the edge of the city, outside the city walls or occasionally in the periphery of cemeteries.146 They are attested epigraphically from a number of sites, for example the Athenian Kerameikos, where there were shrines of Artemis Kalliste and Artemis Soteira;147 in Thasos, where Artemis Soteira was venerated in a small shrine outside the Porte Maritime;148 at Epidamnos in Epirus, at Araxos.149 This intermediary location of Artemis sanctuaries, between city and chora, the world of the living and the dead, fits well with the character of the goddess “as a divinity of the margins” who presides over important passages in peoples lives.150 Moreover, Artemis and Hekate — goddesses who bear very close similarities to En(n)odia — often bear the epiclesis Prothyraia, Propylaia or Epipyrgydia.151

45 Peri-urban shrines situated very near city gates, often in the periphery of cemeteries, have been identified in numerous Greek cities; they are often dedicated to Demeter and/or Kore, Cybele, Hekate,152 the Nymphs, and/or kourotrophic and healing deities, for example Asklepios, Apollo.153 For many of these sanctuaries, that are located in ‘liminal’ positions, between the fabric of the city and the chora, the proximity to the graves may, but need not always be, meaningful; other factors such as privacy, proximity to a water source, the protection of the city/gates may have been at play. For example, in southern Italy and Sicily, many suburban sanctuaries were dedicated to Demeter and Kore, or have been characterized as Thesmophoria.154 Hinz and Uhlenbrock have refuted a ‘chthonic/funerary’ aspect of the cult at these sites and have stressed that privacy and access to water seem to have been decisive factors in the choice of site.

46 The location of the Pasikrata sanctuary, next to the city walls and the gate, might hint that the cult of Artemis En(n)odia could have also been related to a need to protect the entrance of the city.155 L. Kostake, in her discussion of the roadside shrines of Athens, proposed that the concentration of shrines near fortifications and city gates reflects the need to protect these vulnerable areas from enemies and/or sources of miasma. As she pointed out, cult at these Athenian shrines was often to propylaioi divinities or deities related to kourotrophy and/or the protection of children.156 Outside Athens, kourotrophic elements have been identified in the cult of many divinities venerated in peri-urban shrines, for example in the cult of Eileithyia at Argos and Corinth, mentioned by Pausanias, at the shrine by the fortifications at Abdera,157 or the sanctuary of Demeter at Dion.158 With regards to the immediate vicinity of Demetrias we should not forget that in the late Archaic-Classical peri-urban sanctuary of Apollo at Soros (possibly ancient Pagasai), the numerous sculptural dedications of statues of children reveal the important kourotrophic elements in Apollo’s cult.159

Kernos, 27 | 2014 191

Conclusions

47 The archaeological and epigraphic evidence from Thessaly suggests that cult places or shrines, similar to the Pasikrata one, existed near or within Thessalian cemeteries during the Classical and Hellenistic periods. The location of some (e.g. the Pasikrata one) near the city gates and the frequent presence of En(n)odia among the venerated deities might imply that cult could have been dedicated to gods protecting the city gates or roads, or to deities with kourotrophic functions.

48 The inventory list in the Larisaean inscription has shown that the space outside the city walls contained various installations: cult places, a hipparcheion, pottery workshops, hence the motives behind the selection of the location of a sanctuary were varied and are still not fully understood. The archaeological evidence from Demetrias and the other Thessalian shrines at “liminal” points is much more nuanced that the ‘funerary’ interpretation would lead us to suppose and invites us to look much more carefully at the peculiarities of each individual case. A systematic study of the peri-urban sanctuaries in Thessaly could provide interesting results and illuminate their role as intermediaries, protecting important passages in the life of members of Thessalian communities.

Figure 1

Plan of Demetrias (source: Marzolff, Demetrias V)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 192

Figure 2

View of the 5th Stelai Tower and its vicinity from S to N (source: GrStelai, p. 43, ﬁg. 46)

Figure 3

View of the area of the ‘Pasikrata’ sanctuary, from S to N (source: GrStelai, p. 44, ﬁg. 49).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 193

Figure 4

Plan of the eastern sector of Demetrias (source: P. Marzolff)

Figure 5

Selection of ﬁgurines from the Pasikrata sanctuary, 1912 photo (source: AASA)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 194

Figure 6

Selection of ﬁgurines from the Pasikrata sanctuary, 1912 photo (source: AASA)

Figure 7

Selection of ﬁgurines from the Pasikrata sanctuary, 1912 photo (source: AASA)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 195

Figure 8

Clay bust/statue from the Pasikrata sanctuary, Volos Museum M2001 (photo: author)

Figure 9

View of the clay ﬁgurine-patrice Volos Museum M2002 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 196

Figure 10

View of the clay ﬁgurine-patrice Volos Museum M2004 (photo: author)

Figure 11

Pottery ﬁnds from the Pasikrata sanctuary, 1912 photo (source: AASA)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 197

Figure 12

Lamps from the Pasikrata sanctuary, 1912 photo (source: AASA)

Figure 13

Clay West-Slope phiale from the Pasikrata sanctuary, Volos Museum K2291 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 198

Figure 14

Marble head of a female goddess from the Pasikrata sanctuary, Volos Museum Λ540 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 199

Figure 15

Marble head of a female goddess from the Pasikrata sanctuary (side view), Volos Museum Λ540 (photo: author)

Figure 16

Marble statuette of Aphrodite with Eros, Volos Museum Λ548 +Λ599 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 200

Figure 17

Marble statuette of Artemis, Volos Museum Λ551 (photo: author)

Figure 18

Unﬁnished female statuette, Volos Museum Λ556 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 201

Figure 19

View of the marble base with the dedication by the priestess Theano, Volos Museum E827 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 202

Figure 20

Marble naiskos stele dedicated by Boubalis to Pasikrata, Volos Museum E524 (photo: author)

Figure 21

View of the naiskos stele dedicated by Melita, daughter of Gerostratos (photo: M. Kalaitzi).

Figure 22

Marble cylindrical small altar/incense burner, Volos Museum (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 203

Figure 23

Marble cubic small altar bearing the dedication by Protas: Volos Museum E527 (photo: author)

Figure 24

Votive stele bearing the dedication of Zopyros and Hippolyte: Volos Museum E537 (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 204

Figure 25

Map of Pherai (source: Arachoviti 1994)

Figure 26

View of the Temple of Zeus Thaulios at Pherai (photo: author)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 205

Figure 27

Clay ﬁgurine from the sanctuary at Alepotrypes at Pherai, Volos Museum BE 1628 (source: 13th EPCA)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 206

Figure 28

Clay male head from the sanctuary at Alepotrypes at Pherai, Volos Museum BE 1631 (source: 13th EPCA)

Figure 29

Stone rock-cut exedra in the northern cemetery of Demetrias (source: P. Marzolff)

Abbreviations

49 AASA: Archives of the Archaeological Society of Athens.

50 AEMTh: Το Αρχαιολογικό έργο στη Μακεδονία και Θράκη. Volumes 1–19 (1987–2005). 51 AEThSE 2: A. MAZARAKIS AINIAN (ed.), 2006 [2009], Αρχαιολογικό έργο Θεσσαλίας και Στερεάς Ελλάδας 2, 2006. Πρακτικά επιστημονικής συνάντησης Βόλος 16.3–19.3.2006, Volos. 52 AEThSE 3: A. MAZARAKIS AINIAN (ed.), 2009 [2012], Αρχαιολογικό έργο Θεσσαλίας και Στερεάς Ελλάδας 3, 2009. Πρακτικά επιστημονικής συνάντησης, Βόλος 12.3–15.3.2009, Volos. 53 GrStelai: A.S. ARVANITOPOULOS, Γραπταί Στήλαι Παγασών – Δημητριάδος, Athens, 1928.

54 HÄGG – ALROTH 2005R. HÄGG, B. ALROTH (eds.), Greek Sacrificial Ritual, Olympian and Chthonian. Proceedings of the Sixth International Seminar on Ancient Greek Cult, organized by the Department of Classical Archaeology and Ancient History, Göteborg University, 25–27 April 1997, Stockholm, 2005 (Skrifter utgivna av Svenska institutet i Athen 8o, 18).

55 Hypereia 1: Υπερεία 1. Πρακτικά του Πρώτου Συνεδρίου ‘Φεραί-Βελεστίνο-Ρήγας’, Βελεστίνο 30–31.5 και 1.6.1986, ed. D. KARABEROPOULOS,Athens, 1990. 56 Hypereia 3: Υπερεία 3. Πρακτικά του Τρίτου Συνεδρίου ‘Φεραί-Βελεστίνο-Ρήγας’, Βελεστίνο 2–5 Οκτωβρίου 1997, ed. D. KARABEROPOULOS,Athens, 2002. 57 PuD: F. STÄHLIN, E. MEYER, A. HEIDNER, Pagasae und Demetrias, Beschreibung der Reste und Städtgeschichte, Berlin and Leipzig, 1934.

58 Volos Museum: Athanasakeion Archaeological Museum of Volos

Kernos, 27 | 2014 207

NOTES

*. I would like to express my gratitude to the Board of the Archaeological Society of Athens and its Secretary General, V. Petrakos, for the permission to study and publish the excavations of A.S Arvanitopoulos in the sanctuary of Pasikrata and the cemeteries of Demetrias and for allowing me to use photographs and archive material for this article; to N. Kaltsas, former director of the National Archaeological Museum at Athens and to the 13th Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities and ΚΑΣ (Central Archaeological Board) for granting me the permission to study and publish the finds from the Pasikrata sanctuary; the former directors of the Directorate of the National Archive of Monuments (ΔΕΑΜ) P. Pantos and M. Tsipopoulou facilitated my research in the archives in every possible way. A. Matthaiou alerted me to the existence of Arvanitopoulos’ archive in the Greek Epigraphic Society and offered very useful advice and invaluable practical help. Generous travel grants from the Shelby White-Leon Levy Program for Archaeological Publications, the Craven Committee, University of Oxford and the Zilkha Trustees, Lincoln College, Oxford made this research possible. I would also like to thank: A. Doulgeri-Intzesiloglou (Director, 13th EPCA) for the permission to use photographs from the Alepotrypes sanctuary, V. Adrymi-Sismani (former Director, 13th EPCA) for her support during my prolonged periods of study at Volos; A. Batziou-Efstathiou and P. Triantaphyllopoulou for sharing their expertise of Demetrias with me and for allowing me to study the archive of inscriptions from Arvanitopoulos’ excavations that is kept in the Volos Ephorate (in 1997 and 2002); O. Apostolopoulou- Kakavoyianni, P. Arachoviti, B. Intzesiloglou and E. Skafida offered considerable practical support. Since 2010 I have conducted research in the National Archaeological Museum at Athens: Ch. Avronidaki, G. Kavvadias and A. Gadolou have helped me in all stages of this project. P. Marzolff very generously shared his knowledge of the topography of Demetrias with me during repeated visits to Heidelberg. M. Mili, G. Ekroth and A.-M. Leander offered useful suggestions on ‘funerary sanctuaries’ during presentations in 2003 and 2006 respectively. R. Parker, M. Melfi and S. Kravaritou read a first draft of this paper and made constructive comments. I warmly thank them all. All errors are of course the author’s. 1. ARVANITOPOULOS (1912), p. 198–209; ID. (1915), p. 162–164, 187–191; ID.,AD 1 (1915), Parartema p. 56– 58, esp. 56–57; ID. (1920), p. 21–25; ID. (1921), p. 35–36; GrStelai, p. 42–48. 2. ARVANITOPOULOS (1912), p. 203, fig. 14; ID., GrStelai, fig. 49. 3. ARVANITOPOULOS (1912), p. 201–205, fig. 15; ID., GrStelai, fig. 48. 4. Also: PuD, p. 47–48, 123, 188; PAPACHATZIS (1958); STAMATOPOULOU (1999), p. 203–206, pl. 60–66. 5. Until recently only a small part of the finds were inventoried as coming from the Pasikrata sanctuary (HORNUNG-BERTEMES [2007], p. 26, 41–42). The photographs in the archives of the Archaeological Society of Athens were of crucial importance for the identification of the finds in Volos and Athens. Work in Volos took place in 2002–3; with the exception of nearly 30 figurines all others had been mostly recorded as of unknown provenance. Of the nearly 70 figurines that were identified in the Volos Archaeological Museum storerooms as originating from the Pasikrata sanctuary, most were part of the former private collection of M. Apostolides, friend and sponsor of Arvanitopoulos. Work in Athens started in earnest in spring-summer 2010, when four boxes of un-inventoried antiquities from Arvanitopoulos’ excavations were located. These contained hundreds of fragments of figurines and relief moldmade bowls from Demetrias, Phthiotic Thebes and other sites. The finds are still under conservation and study. I would like to thank Ch. Avronidaki and G. Kavvadias, who alerted me to the existence of these boxes, and for all their practical help. 6. GrStelai, p. 45.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 208

7. Aρχ.Αρβ. 41: on cover page it states that the booklet covering the fieldwork notes of the period 23 June – 26 November 1912 was lost in Sorovits. 8. I would like to thank P. Marzolff for discussing with me the topography of this part of Demetrias and the changes that have occurred in the area in the last fifty years. MARZOLFF (1980), p. 9, n. 7. 9. ARVANITOPOULOS (1912), p. 210, fig. 21. 10. Based on the daybooks in the AASA, Aρχ.Αρβ. 43–44; GrStelai, p. 62. 11. As is evident from his excavation daybooks, Arvanitopoulos found clay figurines of similar type at various places in the vicinity of the Pasikrata deposits, for example in the excavations of the 5th Stelai tower but also on the surface and among graves: ARVANITOPOULOS (1912), p. 206; GrStelai, p. 44–45, 48 (for the figurines found at deep levels in the extension of the 5 th Stelai tower). Similarly, a tomb found near the Pasikrata sanctuary allegedly contained many clay figurines of similar type to those found in the pits: ARVANITOPOULOS (1915), p. 187; AASA, Αρχ.Αρβ. 44: 6–8 Ιουνίου 1915. It is thus not certain that all figurines illustrated in his various publications were actually found in the pits; some could have originated from graves: HORNUNG-BERTEMES (1997), p. 185–186. For figurines from the cemeteries of Demetrias: BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU – TRIANTAPHYLLOPOULOU (2003–2009), p. 226, no. 5: grave 11 (northern cemetery), p. 314–315; also: NIKOLAOU (2009). 12. ARVANITOPOULOS (1920), p. 23–24; he changed his mind in GrStelai p. 48. On ‘votive’ deposits, the problems of identifying the character of a pit in a sanctuary, and the importance of context, see recently PATERA (2012), p. 102–107, 192–194, 215. 13. PAPACHATZIS (1958), p. 54–55. 14. CHONDROGIANNI-METOKI – MAGGOURETSIOU (1999) for deposits containing figurines, busts, incense burners and lamps probably belonging to a sanctuary at the locality Kato Bravas Velventou; CHRYSSANTHAKI-NAGLE (2006), p. 17, n. 72 relates them to a cult of the Nymphs or the Muses alongside the main cult which could be of Zeus Hypsistos. Similarly, a large deposit (measuring 6 × 7 m) was recently discovered near the torrent Ag. Symeon of the village Ag. Thomas Mesologgiou; it contained 15,000 fragments of figurines and pottery. Among the figurines were images of Artemis, Kerberos and others related to Demeter and Kore. Architectural remains that most likely belong to a sanctuary are located in the vicinity but have yet to be investigated. The shrine belonged to the Aetolian city Alikyrna that extends on the Chilia Spitia hill next to the modern village (O. VIKATOU, ‘Η Ιονία οδός, μέρος β’ published in the ejournal Archaiologia on 10.09.2012: http://www.archaiologia.gr/blog/2012/09/10/η-ιονία-οδός-2/). 15. UHLENBROCK (1988), p. 126. 16. AD 44 (1989), Chronika p. 188–190, pl. 112 (Salonon St). 17. It is often the case that architectural remains in shrines of Demeter and Kore are not monumental in scale, for example in Demetrias: BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 182–183; Rhodes: GIANNIKOURI (1999); Pella: LILIBAKI-AKAMATI (1996). On sanctuaries of Demeter: COLE (1994); PATERA (2012), p. 231–248. 18. HINZ (1998), p. 102–107, esp. 103 for the temple foundations. The area at Piazza della Vittoria was used as a necropolis in the Archaic and Early Classical periods and graves continued to the end of the 5th century, the period when cult at the shrine began. For a recent discussion of the shrine and the significance of the discovery of the crater with the dedicatory inscription to Artemis Pheraia: FISCHER-HANSEN (2009), p. 212; PARISI (2010), p. 458–459; PALAIOTHODOROS (2009). 19. See above n. 11. Also HINZ (1998), p. 206–207, for changes at the temenos wall M2 in the sanctuary at Contrada Parapezza at Locri, a Thesmophorion, around the mid-4th century during the enlargement of the walls and the foundation of a tower there. 20. GrStelai, fig. 52–55.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 209

21. HORNUNG-BERTEMES (2007), p. 41–42; o.c. (n. 5). The extremely fragmentary condition of the figurines recently identified in Athens is explained in a report by K. Rhomaios addressed to the Ministry of Education, no. 915 of 1.3.1926: STAMATOPOULOU (2009), p. 21 n. 39. 22. HORNUNG-BERTEMES (1997) on the figurines of the boys with kausia; EAD. (2007), ch. 5; BATZIOU- EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 190; JENSSEN (2007), p. 167–174, esp. 168–169. 23. GrStelai, fig. 55. 24. Volos Museum M2001: GrStelai p. 58, fig. 77γ; HORNUNG-BERTEMES (2007), p. 164, no. 227, and Taf. 31; BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 189, no. 2, and fig. 8. 25. Large-scale clay sculpture was also discovered in another sanctuary site of Demetrias, the so- called Thesmophorion, where remains of a head belonging to a female statue (Pr. H: 0.24 m) came to light: BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 182–183, no. A, and fig. 4α–β. From the same excavation we should note the discovery of a mold for the production of terracotta plaques bearing a Dionysiac scene: BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 184, fig. 5. In recent years a number of large busts, bearing elaborate hairstyles and dress have been found in houses of Demetrias: BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU – TRIANTAPHYLLOPOULOU (2000); P. TRIANTAPHYLLOPOULOU, ΑD 55 (2000), Chronika, p. 466–468 (Katsiphas’ property). For large-scale clay statues in sanctuaries: BOOKIDIS (2010) mainly on Corinth but discussing other sites on p. 273–274; also JENSEN (2011), p. 150–151, fig. 127, for an almost-life-size clay female bust of Hellenistic date from Kalydon. 26. Volos Museum M2002, M2004: HORNUNG-BERTEMES et al. (1998), p. 199; EAD. (2007), p. 172–173 nos. 266–267. 27. DOULGERI-INTZESILOGLOU (1992), p. 438 (Pherai); V. RONDIRI, AD 52 (1997), Chronika, p. 485–486 (Metropolis). 28. Essentially the only pots identified with certainty are those illustrated in ARVANITOPOULOS (1912). 29. GrStelai, fig. 56–57. For lamps in sanctuaries: PARISINOU (2000), p. 143–145 (Thesmophoria). 30. Volos Museum K2291: STAMATOPOULOU (1999), pl. 63d. An identical phiale was discovered in the so-called Metroon of Demetrias; it was presented by A. Batziou on 1.12.2012 during the Conference Sanctuaries and Cults in Ancient Thessaly (in Athens, British School at Athens). 31. Volos Museum Λ540 (H. 0.39 m): GrStelai fig. 51; A. DELIVORRIAS, s.v. Aphrodite,LIMC II.1 (1984), p. 107, cat. no. 1063, who attributes it to an over life-size seated statue, and notes that the identification of the divinity relies on the nature of the sanctuary. 32. S. Psoma has brought to my attention the similarity of the Demetrias head to the image of Artemis on the obverse of the coinage of Orthagoreia (which she identifies with the predecessor of Maroneia): PSOMA – KARADIMA – TERZOPOULOU (2008), p. 194–204, esp. 197, 202–3 for the hypothesis of a cult of Artemis Orthagoreia aiming to protect young males approaching puberty. At Kalydon an over life-size marble female head wearing a mural crown that belonged to an acrolithic statue of a seated female deity was found in the ‘cult room’ of a peristyle building, which has been tentatively identified as a clubhouse; the identification of the deity portrayed with Meter relies on the context: JENSEN (2011), p. 137–140, fig. 115–118; DIETZ (2011a), p. 134–135 and fig. 113; DIETZ (2011b). 33. Volos Museum Λ548 +Λ599: DELIVORRIAS l.c. (n. 32), p. 45 s.v. Aphrodite, cat. no. 337. 34. Volos Museum Λ551, Λ563: CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 191–193, pl. 29;STAMATOPOULOU (1999), pl. 64. 35. Volos Museum Λ556: STAMATOPOULOU (1999), pl. 64. 36. ARVANITOPOULOS (1920), p. 22 for a list of the inscribed monuments. Also AD 17 (1961/1962), Chronika p. 178, (= Volos Museum Ε719) for an epitaph of Pasikrateia (?). For the latter see also: BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 188.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 210

37. Volos Museum E827: Πασικράται| Θεανώ| Διοτίμου| ἱερητεύσασα: SEG 3, 483; s.v. Θεανώ (5), s.v. Διότιμος (20), GLPN, III.B (2000). HEINZ (1998), p. 441, cat. no. A137, p. 18–19, for dedications by priests/priestesses in Thessaly. For Theano as a name for priestesses: CONNELLY (2009), p. 11. 38. Naiskos stele bearing on the architrave a simple single-line dedication to Pasikrata: Βουβαλίς Πασικράτᾳ (Volos Museum E524): SEG 3, 481; s.v. “Βουβαλίς” (1), GLPNo.c. (n. 37). According to Arvanitopoulos, GrStelai, 44, the stele was found almost at surface level. See also: HEINZ (1998), cat. no. 298, fig. 164; STAMATOPOULOU (1999), pl. 66a. The name is also attested on a tombstone from Demetrias: Volos E366 (Boubalis, daughter of Epikrates from Athens). 39. Fragmentary naiskos stele bearing on the architrave a two-line dedication: Μελίτα Γηροστράτου εὐξαμένη| Πασικράται (Volos Museum E507): SEG 3, 482; s.v. Μελίτα (8), GLPNo.c. (n. 37). Also: HEINZ (1998), cat. no. 299. Unpublished photograph in the AASA, no. 3777 (upper left corner). 40. Small cylindrical altar bearing a four-line dedicatory inscription to Artemis Enodia dated to the early 2nd century BC based on the letter forms: Μενεκράτης| καὶ Δημήτριος| Ἀρτέμιδι| Ἐνοδίαι: Volos Museum (formerly Almyros Collection 210): SEG 3, 485, 48, 658; s.v. Μενεκράτης (60), GLPNo.c. (n. 37); HEINZ (1998), cat. no A67; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 191–2, pl. 26β. 41. Altar bearing a three line dedication to Pasikrata: Πρωτᾶς| Πασικρά|τᾳ εὐχήν: Volos Museum E527: GrStelai, fig. 50; s.v. Πρωτᾶς, GLPNo.c. (n. 37). For the meaning of the dedicatory formula: VAN STRATEN (1981), p. 70–72; PATERA (2012), p. 47–51. 42. Volos Museum E537: Ζώπυρος| Ἱππολύτη| ὑπέρ τῶν| θυγατέρων: SEG 3, 484; s.v. Ἱππολύτη, s.v. Ζώπυρος (105), GLPNo.c. (n. 37). The four-line inscription is carved on the top part of the shaft of the stele; the letters of the last line are accentuated with red colour. HEINZ (1998), p. 440–441 cat. no. A136. 43. HEINZ (1998), cat. no. 340, fig. 288. To my knowledge there is no conclusive evidence to confirm such an attribution. 44. A number of clay altars were found in the sanctuary, for example Volos Museum K1205 (Fig. 11, top row 2nd from the left). ARVANITOPOULOS (1912), p. 201, mentions among the finds very elaborately decorated clay altars/incense burners. There are three examples in the Volos Museum, of unknown provenance, that could fit such a description (Volos Museum Κ1887-K1889). However, identification has to remain tentative. 45. As is suggested by the relatively large number of lamps recovered from the site. 46. PARKER (2005), p. 438–439; R. PARKER, s.v. “Dedications”, C. Formulae of dedication, ThesCRA I (2004), p. 274–276, for the meaning of the dedicatory formulas; also HEINZ (1998), p. 25–26; GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 287. 47. WILAMOWITZ I (1932), p. 108; ROBERT (1936), p. 134–135; VIKELA (1994), p. 67–78; EAD. (2011), p. 151; VOUTIRAS (1999), p. 80–81; MILI (2005), p. 286, n. 1126. See also on the epiclesis Epikrateia preserved on a statue base, dated to the 3rd century BC, from the sanctuary of Artemis at Drymonas Archontochoriou: KOLONAS (2004); SEG 55, 593. 48. ARVANITOPOULOS (1920), p. 22–24. Also PuD, p. 188. 49. PAPACHATZIS (1958), p. 53–62; ID. (1984), p. 149; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 95–96, n. 1059; HELLY (2010), p. 58; BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2001), p. 33; EAD. (2010), p. 188–192; HATZINIKOLAOU (2010), p. 216– 217; EAD. (2011), p. 127–128. In PuD, p. 188, they stress the importance of the location of the sanctuary by roads and the gate to the harbour, while HEINZ (1998), p. 84–85 links Pasikrata to the circle of great eastern mother goddesses, like Meter Theon and Atargatis. 50. PAPACHATZIS (1958), p. 62. 51. Plutarch, Quaestiones Romanae, 269b; PIRENNE-DELFORGE (1994), p. 299–301, 384, 442. 52. Examples: DROUGOU, TOURATSOGLOU (1980), p. 169–173, 181–182; TZANAVARI (1987), p. 866–867; AD 39 (1984), Chronika p. 260–261 (Veroia); Mieza: MISAELIDOU-DESPOTIDOU (1990); Vergina/Aigai: KOTTARIDI

Kernos, 27 | 2014 211

(1990), p. 37 (grave K3); Pella: LILIBAKI-AKAMATI (1989), p. 95–97; EAD. (1994), p. 214–238; Abdera: SAMIOU (1988). Also, Achinos: AD 43 (1988), Chronika p. 213 (Voreiou Epeirou st., grave 1); 47, (1992), Chronika p. 191–192 (acropolis hill grave 1); Eretria: HUGUENOT (2008), p. 177–178. For an alternative interpretation of Erotes as daemons: HUGUENOT (2001). 53. For the impact of the Macedonian control of Magnesia and the synoecism that created Demetrias on the ritual space of Demetrias see: KRAVARITOU (2011), EAD. (forthcoming). 54. CHRYSSANTHAKI-NAGLE (2006), p. 19, n. 101–102. 55. CHRYSOSTOMOU (1994a), p. 65; ID., AD 49 (1994), Chronika p. 538 (Macedonian Tomb Γ at Pella); also recently: HATZINIKOLAOU (2011), p. 78. 56. On the meaning of female protomai: UHLENBROCK (1988), p. 139–142, 150–156; CHRYSSANTHAKI- NAGLE (2006), esp. p. 24–28; MULLER – TARTARI – TOÇI (2004), p. 619–620; MULLER (2009); TARTARIet al. (2010), p. 3–4, who refute an association with a specific deity/ies, let alone with ‘chthonic’-funerary ones; MITSOPOULOS LEON (2009), p. 18–20, esp. 20; PARISI (2010), p. 461; KATAKOUTA (forthcoming). 57. A good overview of the Macedonian evidence in CHRYSSANTHAKI-NAGLE (2006), p. 18–21. 58. SOURVINOU-INWOOD (1991), p. 147–188; HINZ (1998), p. 203–207; DILLON (2002), p. 222–228, 233; RIEDWEG (2003), p. 210–214, 222, 352–354, 368; PARKER (2011), p. 227–232. 59. There is also a dedication to a Pasikrata by a certain Lykainis on a lamp dated to the 1st century AD: ROBERT (1936), p. 134–135, no. 88, pl. XLVII; SEG 37, 1526; 49, 740. 60. ZUNTZ (1971), p. 97–108, esp. 103; DE POLIGNAC (1995), p. 111–113; JAMESON et al. (1993), p. 81–103; HINZ (1998), p. 144–152; VONDERSTEIN (2006), p. 199–213, esp. 202–208; GROTTA (2010), esp. p. 176–179 and n. 246. 61. Arta Archaeological Museum inv. 26: DRAGOUMIS (1910); TZOUVARA-SOULI (1979), p. 20; EAD. (1992), p. 161–2: marble stele preserving the dedicatory inscription by Nikandros, son of Solon; the upper part of the stele was worked to receive a statue. Date: 1st half of 2nd century BC. The stele was found in the cemetery area of Ambrakia, by the banks of river Arachthos, in second use. QUANTIN (2010), p. 432–433, links the stele with a statue found in the vicinity. 62. Ioannina Museum, inv. 5054: SEG 37, 528; VOKOTOPOULOU (1971); TZOUVARA-SOULI (1979), p. 28; PLIAKOU (2010), p. 414–415; QUANTIN (2010), p. 434. 63. ROBERT (1940), p. 73–74; DÜLL (1977), p. 116–118, 381–381; SEG 32, 636; SEG 49, 740;IG X 2, 2, l. 18A-18C; CHATZINIKOLAOU (2011), p. 127–128; FALEZZA (2012), p. 180. HATZOPOULOS (1994), p. 113–119 for a link of gods guaranteeing manumissions in Macedonia to initiation rites of young persons. 64. On votive offerings and their relation to the venerated deity: VAN STRATEN (1990); MITSOPOULOS- LEON (2010), p. 413; PLIAKOU (2010), p. 417–418; PARISI (2010), p. 461; MERKER (2000), p. 232–234 (focusing on figurines); SCHIPPOREIT (2013), p. 211–216; also MILI (2005), p. 145–47 for Thessaly. 65. AD 28 (1973), Chronika p. 345–346, pl. 309 β-γ; MARZOLFF (1980), p. 31, 54; HORNUNG-BERTEMES (1997), p. 197–200; EAD. (2007), p. 39–41. I would like to thank Dr. P. Marzolff for showing me the photographs from their investigations in the area of Hill-35 and Dr K. Hornung-Bertemes for discussing the site with me. 66. ARVANITOPOULOS (1915), p. 191–194; AASA, Αρχ.Αρβ. 44: 27 Ιουνίου-4 Ιουλίου 1915; it is possible that some of the figurine and pottery fragments recently found in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens come from Arvanitopoulos’ 1915 excavation. On the ‘Thesmophorion’: DAFFA- NIKONANOU (1973), p. 21–22; HEINZ (1998), p. 70–71; KRAVARITOU (2011), p. 122 and BATZIOU-EFSTATHIOU (2010), p. 179–188, for recent excavations on the site. The location of the sanctuary of Demeter, Kore and Plouton near the fortification wall on the eastern sector of the city finds close parallel in Rhodes: GIANNIKOURI (1999). For the location of sanctuaries of Demeter just outside the fortifications of cities: COLE (1994), esp. p. 204–214; EAD. (2004), p. 50–52 (with regards to the Thasos Thesmophorion).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 212

67. The figurines show a general interest in women, youths and children and do not seem to reflect specifically to details of cult/events of the sanctuary; see MITSOPOULOS-LEON (2010), p. 413 for Brauron (contrary to Lousoi where more cult-specific figurines have been identified); PLIAKOU (2010), p. 417 for Epirus; MERKER (2000) for the sanctuary of Demeter and Kore in Corinth; SCHIPPOREIT (2013), p. 211–214 for sanctuaries of Demeter and Kore in Ionia. 68. PINGIATOGLOU (1981), p. 91–92; WISE (2007), p. 29; see also discussion in MERKER (2000), p. 169– 170, 331 for the role of Aphrodite in the sanctuary of Demeter and Kore in Corinth. 69. En(n)odia used as an epithet of Artemis is also attested at Pherai: GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 279, 289–290, propose an assimilation of local En(n)odia with panhellenic Artemis. Whether she should be considered as a separate deity from En(n)odia, as CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 206 proposes, or not, is beyond the scope of this study: cf. L. KAHIL, s.v. Artemis (Artemis Enodia), LIMC II.1 (1984), p. 687–689. PARKER (2005B), esp. p. 223; ID. (2011), p. 68–70 on cultic double names. 70. On En(n)odia: CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), who however should be used with caution, especially in his discussion of literary evidence; ID. (2008) for the most recent evidence. In CHRYSOSTOMOU (2002), p. 209 he explains the epiclesis stathmia attested for En(n)odia in Larisa, as protector of gates; HEINZ (1998), cat. no. A70. Also: A. MOUSTAKA, s.v. Enodia, LIMC III.1 (1986), p. 743–744; HEINZ (1998), p. 64–66, 139–140. 71. For the alleged distinction between Olympian and Chthonian gods and the debate on the usefulness of this distinction: SCHLESIER (1991–1992); EAD. (1994); PARKER (2011), p. 80–84, who do not think that the distinction is helpful or that it captures the essence of Greek ritual action. Contra: BURKERT (1985), p. 199–203; HENRICHS (2005); SCULLION (1994); ID., (2005); VOUTIRAS (1999), esp. p. 73–4, and recently PATERA (2012), p. 203–206. 72. KRAUS (1960), p. 77–83; recently HELLY (2010) and ZOGRAFOU (2010), p. 114–115. 73. MILI (2005), p. 250–258, 287 (seeing her as a deity that ‘seems to have brought prosperity and protection to the family’); GRANINGER (2009). 74. CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 42–48 (Pherai), 59–60 (Atrax), 67 (Gonnoi); also recently HELLY (2010). 75. BÉQUIGNON (1937); CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 25–47. 76. Thirty-eight Protogeometric graves were discovered under the foundations of the temple: CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 35–38. MORGAN (1997), p. 170–174; EAD. (2003), p. 135–139 has hypothesized (following Kalligas) that there had been a tumulus above the graves and — based on the significance of fibulae for fixing funerary clothing — has interpreted the large percentage of fibulae among the early votives as a symbolic link between funerary and votive contexts. 77. VON GAERTIGEN (1911); SOLMSEN (1911), p. 286–291; H. SCHWABL, “ZEUS I.EPIKLESEN”,RE 10A (1972), p. 315; Béquignon 1937, 87–88; ID., “Zeus”, RE Suppl. 15 (1978), p. 1107–1111; DECOURT (1991); CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 236–243. 78. For recent investigations in the sanctuary: ARACHOVITI – DOULGERI-INTZESILOGLOU – TSIGARA (2009). 79. The course of the walls here has not been confirmed via archaeological investigation. 80. If one applies the de Polignac model (which however has been shown not to be the factor behind the location of suburban sanctuaries near many sites) the location of the sanctuary at the edge of Pherai could reflect a wish of the inhabitants of the settlement to delineate the borders of their territory: DE POLIGNAC (1995), p. 20–24. 81. MAZARAKIS AINIAN (1997), p. 39. 82. MAZARAKIS AINIAN (1997), p. 276–283, 351–352; ID. (1999), p. 10, 23. THOMPSON (1968), p. 58–60; LALONDE (1968) for the shrines at the SW corner of the Athenian Agora, near earlier graves. PARKER (1996), p. 33–36, proposed that the cult was in honour of anonymous heroes, collective ancestors. Also: ANTONACCIO (1995), p. 199–220; WHITLEY (1994), p. 217–218, 225 (Attica). 83. MILI (2005), p. 74, 211–212, 250–258. 84. As for example at Prodromos, see below p. 219–220.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 213

85. BÉQUIGNON (1964), p. 400–412: SEG 48, 665; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 25–34, ID. (2001), p. 16, fig. 3 for the inventory of dedications from the sanctuary; ID. (2008), p. 251–2. 86. CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 37. I would like to thank M. Mili for discussing this point with me in 2003. 87. MILI (2005), p. 281–283; CHRYSOSTOMOU (2008). 88. IG IX 2, 575 (= Volos E786): HEINZ (1998), cat. no. A66; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 53–55, 104; ID. (2002), p. 204–209. 89. CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 104–112; ID. (2001); ID. (2002); ID. (2008), p. 248. GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 278–279. For E(n)nodia Patroa in Pagasai see also: KRAVARITOU (2011), p. 18. 90. KAKAVOYIANNIS (1977), p. 126–128, plan 2, pl. 75 (Volos Museum BE 875, 876); SEG 34, 573–574; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 62–65. According to some scholars, the three round protrusions crowning the stele Volos Museum E1308, represent round cakes offered in sacrifices to the gods: PARISINOU (2000), p. 153–154. 91. HELLY (1970); SALVIAT – VATIN (1971). Votive inscribed stelai have been found in numerous Thessalian cemeteries, at Pherai, Phthiotic Thebes, Atrax. At Atrax, some late Classical and Hellenistic stelai bearing dedications to En(n)odia and Zeus Thaulios were allegedly found in the periphery of the western cemetery of the city: TZIAFALIAS (1995); SEG 34, 490; AD 44 (1989), Chronika p. 237–8, no. 10 (ΑΕΜΛ 89/16). Tziafalias has postulated the existence of a large sanctuary dedicated to Zeus Thaulios at the western extension of the city, a few hundred metres outside the western part of the fortification walls (TZIAFALIAS [1995], p. 75; ID., AD 44 [1984], Chronika p. 238 n. 19). Zeus Thaulios has often been associated with cemeteries and the world of the dead,but MILI (2005), p. 86, 93–95, 303 has shown that it is equally possible that the god could receive civic cult, as in the large sanctuary of En(n)odia at Pherai or the sanctuary at Agia Paraskevi at Pharsalos, or could have been worshipped by kinship groups; in Atrax, among the finds was an inscription bearing a dedication to Zeus Thaulios by the Simmidai, who have been identified as a familial group (SEG 51, 677bis; DECOURT – TZIAFALIAS [2001], esp. p. 147, explain the Simmidai as a religious college and not as a civic group; also CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 236, n. 918). We should bear in mind that in all these cases the inscriptions were chance finds, therefore their value in securely identifying the character and location of the cult places is limited. 92. Preliminary report in APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990); additional information in CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), plan 2, no. 4, p. 29, 43–47, pl. 3–4. The sanctuary has not been fully published. On the cemeteries of Pherai: DOULGERI-INTZESILOGLOU (1994), p. 79; STAMATOPOULOU (1999), cat. no. 63. 93. The building walls measured: 5.35 m on the intact western side; the southern and northern sides were preserved to a length of 2.60 m and 2.50 m respectively. Walls survived to about 0.60 m in height, and were made of rough stones; their upper parts were of mud-brick. Along the inner face of the southern wall of the building was a low oblong built structure, which has been identified as a bench for the deposition of votives. APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 65, fig. 2–3; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 45, n. 99, pl. 4. On benches: MAZARAKIS AINIAN (1997), p. 280. 94. Only a few graves have been fully investigated so far; four were Protogeometric and two Hellenistic: APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 59, fig. 2; EAD. (1992), p. 313, n. 16. CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 45 has proposed that grave 3 was Early Christian; DOULGERI-INTZESILOGLOU (1994), p. 79. 95. APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), fig. 3: showing the building before the removal of the upper floor level. 96. APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 60, fig. 4; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 45–46, pl. 4a for a view of the building after the completion of the excavation (the pit was at the right hand corner of the picture), 4βfor a view of the deposit. 97. This is based on the date of the offerings. APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 62–63, has dated the sanctuary’s use from the end of the 5th c. BC to the late Hellenistic period.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 214

98. Grave 3 has been dated by the excavator to the Hellenistic period: APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 63; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 45, dated the grave to the Early Christian period. 99. Volos Museum BE 1511; APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 63; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 44– 45, pl. 6a. 100. SEG 40, 667. 101. Volos Museum, BE 1628 (Pr.H.: 0.22 m). APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 60, no.3, fig. 8; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 46, 157, pl. 4β, 16α [classified as uncertain]. 102. Kozani Collection KAMK 895: CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 74, no. 1, 151–2, pl. 14β; HATZINIKOLAOU (2011), p. 118, 301, no. 155. On the iconography of En(n)odia: A. MOUSTAKA, s.v. Enodia, LIMC III.1 (1986), p. 743–744; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 141–155. 103. Volos Museum BE 1624 (Pr.H.: 0.20 m). APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 60, 62; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 46, pl. 13α. 104. Volos Museum BE 1631 (H: 0.235 m): APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 60, no. 2, fig. 7; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 233–235, pls. 4β, 34. 105. For the iconography of Hades and its similarities to Zeus’s, cf. S.-C. DAHLINGER, S.V. Hades, LIMC IV.1 (1998), p. 367–380. For a large-scale clay head of a bearded male mature god, belonging to a herm from the Sanctuary of Demeter and Kore in Corinth: BOOKIDIS (2010), 252–255, cat. no. 152, pl. 115; similarly for a satatue of a male mature god from the sanctuary of Demeter at Kyparissi in Kos: SCHIPPOREIT (2013), p. 235. 106. Volos Museum BE 1627: APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 60, no. 6; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 181–182, 235, pls 4β, 34β. 107. APOSTOLOPOULOU-KAKAVOYIANNI (1990), p. 62–63; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 233–235. For the cult of Zeus Meilichios in Thessaly: F. PFISTER, “Meilichioi Theoi”, REXV (1932), p. 339–343; H. SCHWABL, “Zeus I. Epiklesen”,RE X A (1972), p. 335–336; SEG 37, 460; MILI (2005), p. 284–285. For Zeus Meilichios: BURKERT (1985), p. 200–201; SCULLION (1994), p. 93–94; JAMESON et al. (1993), p. 81–103, esp. 85 on Thessaly; PARKER (2005), p. 42, 424–426; KOSTAKE (2008), p. 148, 159, for shrines of Zeus Meilichios in relation to city fortifications; GROTTA (2010), esp. p. 147–175; SEIFERT (2011), p. 212–217 (Athens; children in cult). 108. HABICHT (1987), p. 273–274 on IGIX 2, 578; HEINZ (1998), cat. no. A123; SEG 24, 400 (Larisa). Also from Larisa comes a naiskos bearing a dedication to Zeus Meilichios: AD 45 (1990), Chronika p. 220 (AEMΛ 90/43). A dedication to Zeus Meilichios by a Dionysios is preserved on a pillar that was found at Pefkakia in Demetrias (Volos E71/18), HEINZ (1998), p. 388, cat. A4. 109. PALAIOKRASSA-KOPITSA (1996), p. 229–231; EAD. (2007), p. 42, fig. 62–63. The excavator proposed that Zeus Meilichios was worshipped at Palaiopolis as protector of the dead. Similarly carved on the bedrock next to a cave was the boundary inscription to Zeus Meilichios at Goritsa (SEG 27, 197). 110. FILIMONOS-TSOPOTOU (2004), p. 117–118, 156–163. 111. SEG 9, 325–346; FABRICOTTI (2000), p. 182; MENOZZI (2002), p. 78, fig. 10–12. 112. P ARKER (1983), p. 39–40, 110; JAMESON et al. (1993), p. 88–97; GROTTA (2010), p. 101–136 (epigraphic evidence from Selinus), 137–175; PATERA (2012), p. 226–230. 113. MISAELIDOU-DESPOTIDOU (1993), esp. p. 211, for the Kerdoion, Herakleion immediately inside the walls and the Heleneion that was located near a city gate. 114. HELLY (1970); SALVIAT – VATIN (1971); TZIAFALIAS (1997), esp. p. 62; HELLY (2010), p. 62; and recently GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2012), 63–67. 115. HELLY (2010), p. 62 proposes that the epiclesis should be linked to tombs; contra MILI (2005), p. 283, who links it to the protection/welfare of animals. 116. RAKATSANIS – TZIAFALIAS (1997), p. 18, 22, 38. We should also note here the discovery in the 2nd Stelai-Tower at Demetrias of a votive relief, dedicated to Hero Enodios (Volos Museum Λ414):

Kernos, 27 | 2014 215

ARVANITOPOULOS, (1910), p. 239; PuD 188, n. 2; CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 259–261, pl. 34β. Given that most of the stones that were reused as building material for the reinforcement of the walls came from the nearby area, it is likely that the relief was set somewhere in the vicinity of the fortifications; of course this is conjectural. 117. A possible case may be the building found at Anavyssos, in Attica, in close association to the three most elaborate tombs of the Late Geometric burial ground: AD 29 (1974), Chronika p. 108– 110 (P. Doltsetis’ plot). The building was most likely funerary in character, but its characterization as a ‘chapel’ by Mazarakis Ainian is exaggerated, as it depends heavily on the discovery of benches along the walls of the building: MAZARAKIS AINIAN (1997), p. 145; ID. (1999), p. 20. Recently a ‘funerary’ aspect has been proposed for the architectural remains discovered near the northern cemetery of Myrrinous (modern Merenda); according to the excavators the temple-like building is related to the grave enclosures discovered nearby and is contemporary to the graves: ANETAKIS et al. (2009), p. 193–4, fig. 8. One should note here the spaces among family enclosures used for commemorative rites by the relatives of the people buried in the nearby graves for tomb cult or for the cult of collective ancestors like the Tritopatores: KNIGGE (1988), p. 103, no. 14; JAMESON et al. (1993), p. 107–114; STROSZECK (2010). 118. AD 39 (1984), Chronika p. 148; 40 (1985), Chronika p. 196; 42 (1987), Chronika p. 269; STAMATOPOULOU (1999), p. 207–208, cat. no. 54, pl. 67b. I would like to express my warmest thanks to B. Intzesiloglou for the useful information about his excavations at Prodromos and for showing me photographs of the site and finds. 119. AD 39 (1984), Chronika p. 148; 42 (1987), Chronika p. 269, pl. 157γ [oikosΔ]. 120. AASA, Αρχ.Αρβ. 43: 8 Ιουνίου 1914, with drawing. Also: MARZOLFF (1980), pl. 7.3; ID. (1986), p. 82–84, fig. 3–4, n. 155; THÜNGEN (1994), p. 12, 21, 38, 138, cat. no. 118, Taf. 73.2, Beil. 50.1. According to P. Marzolff the exedra was situated very near the road and about 200 m from the Bourboulithra springs (pers. comm. on 5 July 2001). 121. A very interesting small rock-cut theatre-like structure set near the top of the Sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Corinth has been linked with ritual performances: BOOKIDIS (1997), p. 256– 257; EAD., (2009), p. 231–232; HOLLINGSHEAD (2012), p. 32–33, 48. Similarly theatral arrangements, mainly steps, have been attested at a number of sanctuary sites, allowing the active participation and observation to ritual acts: HOLLINSHEAD (2012), p. 28–30, 46–56. 122. STAMATOPOULOU (1999), p. 163, n. 819–820, p. 191; AVAGIANOU (2002); KRAVARITOU (2011), p. 119; EAD. (forthcoming). 123. GRAF – JOHNSTON (2007), no. 25–29, p. 131–3; CALAME (2008); and more recently EDMONDS III (2011), various articles in the book. Also: PARKER – STAMATOPOULOU (2007); FERRARI – PRAUSCELLO (2007); SEG 55, 162 for the recently identified lamella from Pherai. 124. For example at S. Anna in Acragas; Metaponto; Taras: HINZ (1998), p. 71–72, 182–187, 216– 217. At numerous sites buildings or built enclosures have been excavated inside cemeteries but due to the lack of finds or the disturbance of the area it is very difficult to determine the purpose of the building. Examples include: a) the building investigated among Hellenistic graves at Myrina on Lemnos (Yiakoumas’ property): ARCHONTIDOU – DELIGIORGI (1994), p. 182–189, esp. 182– 185, with plan and illustration on 182–3; AD 48 (1993), Chronika p. 424. b) The building in the cemetery of Thermi near Thessaloniki has been dated to the 4th century BC while the later burials at the site are of the late Archaic period (6 Lambraki st.): ALLAMANI et al. (1999); AD 54 (1999), Chronika p. 549–543, esp. 542–3; CHRYSSANTHAKI-NAGLE (2006), p. 16 n. 52. c) The two-room building found among graves at Megara (6 Chaniou and Aigeirouson st.): AD 49 (1994), Chronika p. 57–59, pl. 25γ (A. Priskos’ plot); as there were no traces of burials nor diagnostic finds, the building was tentatively identified as a pre-made grave enclosure, which was never used. d) At Pylaia Thessalonikis, near Phoinix (locality Lygaria): AD 54 (1999), Chronika p. 530–531, two buildings

Kernos, 27 | 2014 216

were found in close proximity to the graves; one did not contain diagnostic finds and the other appears to have been a farmhouse of later date than the cemetery. 125. PAPACHATZIS (1985); ID. (1981). He was in turn influenced by PHILIPPSON (1944); CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998) basically follows the same model of interpretation. 126. MORGAN (2003); MCINERNEY (1999). 127. CHRYSOSTOMOU (1998), p. 112–133. 128. Let us not forget that sanctuaries of the Nymphs were also found outside the city gates, in areas with good provision of water, as for example at Atrax, where remains of a Doric temple, destroyed by the change in the course of the river Peneios, and dedicatory inscriptions have been found in the wider area of the northern cemetery of the city. The proximity to a water source was probably the major reason for the choice of the site: TZIAFALIAS (1995), p. 73; AD 44 (1989), Chronika p. 237–8, no. 11. It is thus evident that the geographical proximity of a shrine to city gates need not always be deliberate. 129. A small temple, resembling a simple oikos in plan, with a pronaos and cella, found in 1993 at Melitaia, was dedicated according to Dakoronia to Artemis-Aspalis. A statue base bearing a votive dedication to En(n)odia was among the finds: DAKORONIA (2001); EAD. AD 48 (1993), Chronika p. 21; SEG 52, 560; GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 292; CHRYSOSTOMOU (2008), plan 1 on p. 246, and 254–255; STAVROGIANNIS (2010), p. 587–590. 130. GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 289–291; PARKER (2005C), on double cultic epithets and their significance. 131. PINGIATOGLOU (1981), p. 98–113; DILLON (2002), p. 234–235; COLE (2004), p. 209–218; VERNANT (1991), p. 198–202; MORIZOT (2010), focusing on childbirth; PARKER (2005), p. 231–232, 242–245, 431, 439– 442; SEIFERT (2011), p. 145–155, 199–201, 238–239 (with earlier bibliography); HATZOPOULOS (2006), p. 55 (Macedonia); SOLIMA (2011), p. 221–228 (for the Peloponnese); QUANTIN (2010), p. 434 for Apollonia in Epirus. Also CALAME (2001), p. 91–101, esp. 100–101 for female rituals of Artemis and their importance for adolescent girls. 132. HEINZ (1998), p. 58–63, 409 no. A52 for the limestone base from Pherai bearing the dedication of Kytheria to Artemis with the formula tropheia ton teknon; DECOURT – TZIAFALIAS (2009), esp. p. 464 on an unpublished long inscription of the mid-2nd century BC, found at Marmariani, that preserves a lex sacra, where Artemis Phylake is mentioned among other deities, some of eastern origin. They assume that the cult was initiatory in character with at least some of the rituals being nocturnal. 133. ARVANITOPOULOS (1911), p. 317–320, fig. 7; ID. (1916), p. 31–32; HELLY (1973 (i)), p. 31, 148–149; ID. 1973 (ii), nos. 168–196; HEINZ (1998), cat. nos. 132–156, A61 (Eileithyia, with various spellings), 158 (Eulochia), 159 (Eyonymos), 160–165 (Geneteira), 170 (Lochia); PINGIATOGLOU (1981), p. 107–111; RAKATSANIS – TZIAFALIAS (2004), p. 28–32; WISE (2007), p. 58–59, 80–81, 229–231. See also PARKER (2005C), p. 223–226 for the meaning of the double epithet, Artemis Eileithyia. 134. PINGIATOGLOU (1981), p. 112; HABICHT (1987), p. 314 (Larisa); HEINZ (1998), cat. nos. 167–169; GUARISCO (2001), p. 84. 135. HEINZ (1998), cat. nos. 129–130 (Larisa), 157 (Pythion). 136. HATZOPOULOS (1994), p. 25–40; ID. (2006), p. 55–56; GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY 2007, p. 291–2, who also stress the reference to Artemis Pagasites at Larisa with the term nebeusasa; contra GRANINGER (2007) (but see the criticism by Helly, BE 2008, p. 674–675, no. 297); SEG 52, 496. See also: RAKATSANIS – TZIAFALIAS (1997), p. 25–27, 62–63, 67; HEINZ (1998), p. 21–22, 24, 62–63, cat. nos. 118, 120–122, 174–176, A65; GUARISCO (2001), p. 84; CHRYSOSTOMOU (2001), p. 12, n. 8; FARAONE (2003), p. 58–59; MILI (2005), p. 98–100, on a balanced discussion of the complex rituals associated with the cult of Artemis Throsia.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 217

137. Echinos relief: Archaeological Museum of Lamia, AE 1041: DAKORONIA – GOUNAROPOULOU (1992); HEINZ (1998), p. 230, cat. 107, fig. 252; COLE (2004), p. 213; MORIZOT (2004), p. 160–166; KLÖCKNER (2006), p. 140–143;WISE (2007), p. 201–204; GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 290. 138. CHRYSOSTOMOU (2001) also considered the epiclesis Κορουτάρρα, on a stele dated to c. 450 BC, as indicative of En(n)odia as patron of children. Contra: SEG 51, 739, where Chaniotis proposes that Κορουτάρρα is a personal name. 139. GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), esp. p. 287–288, see the deity as responsible for the raising and protection of infancy and young children (rather than strictly protecting childbirth or the passage from childhood to puberty). CHRYSOSTOMOU (2002), 204–209, sees En(n)odia Strogika Patroa in Larisa as a kourotrophic deity. He gives the same meaning to En(n)odia Stathmiabased on the formula of the dedication, for the well-being of a child (IG IX 2, 577), but also for En(n)odia Fastika (IG IX 2, 575; SEG 35, 590. Both stelai were found in Larisa and have been dated in the third quarter of the 5th century BC on the basis of letter forms: RAKATSANIS – TZIAFALIAS (1997), p. 47. According to Chaniotis, in SEG 49, 622, the epithet Στρογικά, should be seen as ‘the loving, affectionate’. See however the recent article by GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2012), p. 57–63 where they argue that stropika instead of strogika should be read on the stone. 140. This was also hinted recently by GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 287 and esp. 293–294; also MILI (2005), p. 284–285. 141. The absence of specific formulas in the dedicatory inscriptions or of diagnostic finds, except for the single kourotrophic figurine, does not allow us to determine whether the deity was concerned with specific stages of children’s lives. But it is worth noting the interest in Demetrias in childbirth as is evidenced by the unique iconographic type of the Artitokos, for example in the stele of Hediste (Volos L1) with its moving epigram: PEEK (1955), p. 481 no. 1606; Cairon (2009), p. 260–262, no. 85. See also PEEK (1955–57), p. 434 no. 1462; CAIRON (2009), p. 274–278, no. 92, the epigram for Potala found in the eastern cemetery of Larisa. 142. MULLER, TARTARI – TOÇI (2010), esp. p. 399–400, for the interpretation of the cult. 143. HUYSECOM-HAXHI – MUKA (2010). 144. TATARLI et al. (2010); SHEHI – TICHIT (2010). 145. MULLER, TATARLI – TOÇI (2004), esp. p. 620 for the identification; Also: TATARLI et al. (2010). 146. COLE (2004), p. 180–194, esp. 185; VERNANT (1991), p. 197–8. 147. PARKER (1996), p. 127, n. 21, 340; ID. 2005, p. 46, 57, fig. 4 on p. 53; GUARISCO (2001), p. 77; WISE (2007), p. 36, n. 100, p. 66; KOSTAKE (2008), p. 148, 159; ZOGRAFOU (2010), p. 105. 148. MARTIN (1944–45); GRANDJEAN – SALVIAT (2000), p. 58, fig. 17; KOZELJ – SGOUROU – WURCH-KOZELJ (2005), p. 18; ZOGRAFOU (2010), p. 102. Moreover, one of the gates bore the inscription: Artemidos Epaulies Hekates (IG XII 8, 359). COLE (2004), p. 50–57, for a discussion of the significance of the sculptural decoration at the gates of the Thasian city walls. 149. MULLER – TATARI – TOÇI (2004), esp. p. 620 for the identification. At Araxos in the Peloponnese, Artemis was worshipped along with other deities at a built altar, in front of the main gate of the Dymnaian Wall: AD 19, (1964) Chronika p. 187–188; BRULOTTE (2002), p. 181; SOLIMA (2011), p. 22. 150. VERNANT (1991), p. 204, repeated in Parker (2011), p. 90–91. 151. PARKER (2005), p. 414–415. See other gods and heroes bearing epithets that could denote an association with gates: like Herakles Propylaios in Kozani (mid-2nd century BC: EAM 4; ILIADOU 1998, p. 76–78), Herakles Empyleios at Onchestos, SCHACHTER (1986), p. 217; perhaps Dionysos Parabolos at Byzantion, SEG 50, 665; Artemis Prothyraia at Epidauros (IG IV2, 1, 276: 3rd century BC), Pergamon (mid-2nd century AD: IvP III 161A, 161B). 152. ZOGRAFOU (2010), p. 93–109. 153. Examples include: a) Amphipolis, locality Koukles, where a large deposit and niches containing mainly figurines of the Late Hellenistic period was found very near the southern wall

Kernos, 27 | 2014 218

of the fortification tower, in the cemetery area. The finds suggest cult of Cybele, Attis, Harpokrates: LAZARIDIS (1981), esp. p. 22–24. b) Abdera: where a hypaethral sanctuary of a female deity was found on the level of the outer face of the euthenteria of city walls, with built escharas, a very large number of figurines and 2000 miniature hydriai, animal bones, etc, that can be dated from the 6th to the early 4 th centuries BC: KOUKOULI-CHRYSANTHAKI (1987); EAD. (1997), p. 720. c) Ambrakia: at the foundation level of the early phase of the fortification wall was a paved walled enclosure that had two building phases. The Hellenistic one contained elaborate bull figurines: AD 52 (1997), Chronika p. 564–566, (Mostraion, Ag. Paraskevis st, no. 176); d) Gortys in Arcadia, near Gate C of the fortifications: JOST (1985), p. 205, proposed that the shrine by the Gate C, was dedicated to Artemis; MARTIN – METZGER (1940–1941), p. 278–282; MARTIN (1947–1948), esp. p. 105– 112 saw it as a sanctuary of Pan, whereas MELFI (2007), p. 213–216, 221–225, linked it to Asklepios; e) Leontinoi: immediately outside the southern gate of the ancient city: UHLENBROCK (1998), p. 31– 2; f) Acragas, S. Anna: the shrine was immediately outside the city gates: HINZ (1998), p. 71; g) Megara Hyblaia, Fundstelle C, was found at the northeast corner of the fortification wall; it was a large sacred zone already in the Archaic period: HINZ (1998), p. 141–142. h) See also the niche by the eastern gate of Rhamnous, which Petrakos supposed that was for an image of Cybele and above it a dedication to Demeter and Kore: PETRAKOS (1999), vol. I, p. 67–69. 154. UHLENBROCK (1988), p. 154–155; LE DINAHET (1984); HINZ (1998), esp. p. 50, 71 (Sanctuary of S. Anna at Acragas), 202–209 (Locri, sanctuaries at Contrada Manella, Contrada Parapezza and Grotta Caruso); CARTER (1994); COLE (1994); PATERA (2012), p. 216–225. For the location of sanctuaries of Demeter and Kore in Ionia: SCHIPPOREIT (2013), p. 245–250. 155. The same has been recently proposed for the Artemision at Epidamnos/Dyrrhachion: ELLINGER (2010), esp. p. 475. 156. KOSTAKE (2008), esp. p. 159; see also COLE (2004), p. 182–184 for Artemis’ sanctuaries near thoroughfares. 157. Paus., II, 18, 3 (Argos), II, 5, 4 (Corinth): PINGIATOGLOU (1981), p. 38–39. PARKER (2005), p. 56 comments on the tendency to locate shrines of birth goddesses outside city walls. 158. In the case of the Dion sanctuary, its relation to the fortification walls may be fortuitous, given its early date and therefore the proximity to water was more relevant. For the kourotrophic elements of the cult of Demeter at Dion see PINGIATOGLOU (2010), esp. p. 211–214. On the kourotrophic elements of Demeter’s cult (with emphasis on the Sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Corinth): BOOKIDIS (2010), p. 268–276; MERKER (2000), p. 334–341. 159. Soros: MAZARAKIS AINIAN (2011), esp. p. 11–13; LEVENDI (2009). GARCÍA RAMÓN – HELLY (2007), p. 292, 294–5 stress that at Pagasai both Apollo and Artemis Pagasites were divinities with strong kourotrophic functions. On the cult of Apollo at Pythion in Perrhaibia and the dedication for the well being of children, ibid., p. 295, n. 81.

ABSTRACTS

Archaeological and epigraphical evidence suggests that cult places existed near or within Thessalian cemeteries of the Classical and Hellenistic periods. Some, especially at Pherai and Demetrias, have been characterized by scholars as ‘funerary’ because of their location within a burial ground, and because of the supposed ‘chthonian’ nature’ of the venerated deities. This paper will focus on the so-called Pasikrata sanctuary at Demetrias, situated in the southern

Kernos, 27 | 2014 219

cemetery of the city, and investigated by A.S. Arvanitopoulos between 1912–1915 under the auspices of the Archaeological Society of Athens. Alongside the presentation of the evidence, which is based on the study of the archival material and of a large part of the finds, the focus will be on the discussion of the location of the sanctuary, the type/character of the finds, the nature of the venerated deities and the re-interpretation of the suburban sanctuaries of Thessaly.

Des témoignages archéologiques et épigraphiques suggèrent que des lieux de culte existaient tout près de cimetières, ou même au milieu d’entre eux, en Thessalie aux périodes classique et hellénistique. Certains d’entre eux, spécialement à Phères et à Démétrias, ont été qualifiés de « funéraires » en raison de leur localisation dans un espace d’inhumation et de la prétendue nature « chthonienne » des divinités honorées. Cet article se concentre sur ledit sanctuaire de Pasikrata à Démétrias, situé au sud de la nécropole de la cité et fouillé par A.S. Arvanitopoulos entre 1912 et 1915 sous les auspices de la Société archéologique d’Athènes. Parallèlement à la présentation de la documentation, qui est fondée sur l’étude des archives et d’une grande partie des trouvailles, l’attention sera portée sur la location du sanctuaire, le type d’artéfacts mis au jour, la nature des divinités honorées et la réinterprétation des sanctuaires suburbains de Thessalie.

AUTHOR

MARIA STAMATOPOULOU Faculty of Classics University of Oxford [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 220

Inscribed Greek Thunderstones as House- and Body-Amulets in Roman Imperial Times

Christopher A. Faraone

1 Although it was the focus of extended discussion at the turn of the last century, the reuse of Neolithic axe-heads — also known as “celts” or “thunderstones” — as amulets in Roman times is nowadays underappreciated.1 As a result, the ancient date of two small inscribed examples in the British Museum (BM nos. 1* and 504) is now in doubt,2 a negative assessment that arises, I will suggest, from the use of insufficient comparanda. When compared with the growing corpus of magical gems, the media of these two small axe-heads (jadeite or serpentine), their high polish and their shape do indeed seem suspicious and difficult to assess as gems, but when viewed alongside other, inscribed and uninscribed thunderstones found in Roman and later sites, we can see that both of the London stones belong to a clearly defined category of body-amulets.

2 Such stones were originally shaped and polished in Neolithic times and used as axes or adzes, either hand-held or attached to a wooden haft. But they sometimes turn up in later archaeological sites or graves from the Bronze Age down to the medieval period, because they were apparently thought to have some kind of magical power to protect buildings and people, especially from lightning and violent storms. We know something about these beliefs thanks to a string of testimonia in technical treatises on stones, beginning with a third-century BCE Greek author named Sotacus and ending with a twelfth-century bishop of Rennes. At least ten of these pre-historic axe-heads carry Greek inscriptions and sometimes Egyptianizing images that corroborate their use as amulets during the Roman Empire. We shall see, too, that nearly all of the inscribed thunderstones of known provenance come from the eastern half of the Mediterranean, although many uninscribed examples were clearly reused as amulets in Italy, France, Britain and elsewhere. One should stress, moreover, the fact that there is no evidence that the Greeks or Romans realized that these axe-heads were manufactured by previous stone-age cultures and indeed the inclusion of them in lapidaria or natural

Kernos, 27 | 2014 221

histories confirms to the contrary that they were believed to be “natural” stones which, like amber, jet or coral, had special protective powers.

3 In what follows I will examine the ten inscribed thunderstones that are known to me. In the first section I study the five larger examples of similar size (roughly 9–13 cm tall and 4–6 cm wide) that were probably used to protect a house or some other building. Then I look at the five remaining stones, which are about half that size and could have easily been worn or carried as a personal amulet — indeed, two of them are perforated near edge for easy suspension. In both sections I combine close readings of the texts, images and symbols on the stones themselves with ancient literary references, recent archaeological surveys and folklore studies to argue that the inscribed versions are merely the most visible evidence of a rich and widespread tradition of using uninscribed thunderstones, long before and long after the Roman period. I close, moreover, by arguing that the two London stones, when examined in the light of this wider tradition, seem indeed to have been inscribed, at least partially, in the Roman times.

Larger Axe-heads as House Amulets

4 It seems fairly certain that the Greeks and Romans, at least from the Hellenistic period onwards, believed that pre-historic axe heads could be used to protect buildings. Our clearest evidence comes from a rather late source, Timotheos of Gaza, a fifth-century CE author who tells us that “you will have an amulet (periapton) against a thunderblast (keraunon), if you inscribe a thunderstone (lithon keraunion) with the letters αφια αφρυξ and keep it in your house.”3 This idea seems, however, to have circulated among the Greeks much earlier: Sotacus, the Hellenistic author of a lost treatise on stones maintained (according to Pliny’s abridged account) that cerauniae “are similar to axes (similes … securibus)” and can be divided into two types by color and shape: the black and round ones called baetyli, which can be used aggressively to attack cities and navies; and the red and oblong ones called cerauniae. Sotacus does not mention any special powers for this second category, but he then goes on to remark that a third and rare type were sought out by magi in places that had been struck by lightning.4 This is a somewhat confused passage, but we can nonetheless make out three important elements that persist in most of the later authors: (i) the name ceraunia, derived from Greek keraunion (“thunderbolt”); (ii) the implicit claim that they were thought to fall from the sky during thunderstorms; and (iii) the interest that these stones held for the magi, by which in this case Pliny probably means Persian ritual workers.5

5 The general idea, then, seems to be that like bans like: a thunderstone fallen from the sky will in future protect against thunderstorms and lightning strikes. All of the other late-antique and medieval sources insist on the protective qualities of these stones. For example, the Latin lapidary attributed to Damigeron-Evax (and roughly contemporaneous with Timotheus) devotes an entire chapter (12) to the lapis ceraunius, which is found in places where lightning has struck; a house or villa in which they are placed will never be struck by lightning.6 In his Etymologies Isidore, the early seventh- century CE bishop of Seville, also notes that thunderstones — he calls them both brontea and ceraunia — were found in places struck by lightening and could avert lightening (XVI, 13, 5 and 15, 24) and a few centuries later Marbodaeus, the bishop of Rennes (d. 1123), preserves a similar account in his own Liber lapidum.7 Ethnographers and

Kernos, 27 | 2014 222

folklorists have established, moreover, the existence of similar long-standing and widespread beliefs throughout pre-modern Europe.”8 In modern Greece they are called astropelékia (“lightening axes”), are kept in houses to ward off lightning and fire, and are likewise sought out at places where lightning has fallen.9

6 Archaeological evidence confirms, moreover, that this pre-modern practice in western Europe goes back at least to the early Roman Empire.10 In a survey of Britian, for example, of the forty known pre-historic axe-heads found in Roman sites, twenty nine were found in or closely associated with buildings:11 ten in villas or houses (nos. 7, 12, 14, 17, 18, 23, 28, 30, 32 and 33); eight in forts or other military structures (nos. 2, 8 [barracks], 20, 25 [watchtower], 31, 39 and 40) four in temples (nos. 12, 21, 29 and 35), three in or near kilns (nos. 3, 4 and 15), three in buildings or huts of unknown use (nos. 1, 6 and 26) and one under a Roman bath (no. 19). Five stones of this type were found in a leather carrying case “with Roman remains” in Germany, a context that suggests they were valuable commodities and could be transported rather easily by merchants or soldiers on the move.12

7 Archaeologists have suggested that the examples found in temples may have been placed there as votives or dedications13 and this is certainly plausible, but we should remember that temples themselves, as larger buildings, could also be the frequent target of lightning strikes and that some of these stones may have been used for protection.14 Medieval sources and northern European ethnography suggest that these axe-heads were often positioned at doorways, in walls and under rooftops,15 but the British survey gives us little specific information about their placement in Roman buildings, with the exception of the one axe-head found near the entrance of a fort (no. 2). Another example (no. 9), unassociated with any buildings, has a deep notch and grooves in its surface that destroyed its cutting edge, but allowed it to be suspended with this edge pointing downwards.16 Subsequent to the survey of British sites discussed above, a ground flint axe-head was discovered in a Roman villa in Surrey, whose context amidst a collapsed ceiling suggests that it fell from the roof, where it was “originally kept… as a charm against lightning and other dangers as well.”17

8 Five large axe-heads bear magical inscriptions that confirm their use in Roman or late- antique times as house-amulets. The first is a “hard brown polished stone” that measures 13.5 × 6.3 cm. and was said to come from Ephesus (Fig. 1).18 Near the cutting edge of the axe-head we find engraved the Egyptian “pantheistic deity” and magical names encircled by an ouroborus-serpent, the Egyptian design of a serpent eating its own tail that was a common motif on amulets of the Roman period.19

Kernos, 27 | 2014 223

Figure 1

9 The Greek words that surround the god are also popular on magical amulets, for example, the palindrome ablanathanalba and the name Damnameneus by the god’s feet, as well as the well-known words akramma-achamarei and sesengen-pharanges inscribed vertically at his sides.20 On either side of his neck and head we see Jewish names and titles — Iao (= Jahweh), Sabaoth, and Adonaie — of the sort that also show up frequently on gemstones and other amulets of the Roman period.21 There are, however, two uncommon words above and to the sides of his vegetative headdress: αιαουαηλ and παιζηθφθλθωζα. The first seems to be an angel name (Aiaouael) generated by adding a plausible Semitic ending (-ηλ) to a string of vowels.22 The second, however, seems, (as we shall see below) to be a variation of a special acclamation found on other thunderstone-amulets.23

10 The “pantheistic” or “polymorphic” deity at the center of the design is an Egyptian god not archeologically attested until the first millennium BCE and usually depicted in small-scale statues of bronze or faience or inscribed on papyrus or gems.24 Such figures appear often on personal amulets of the Roman period surrounded, as here, by magical words and vowels, for example, three very similar gems in the British Museum, which each depict the pantheistic god with the same generic phrase: “protect from evil!” (φύλαξον ἀπὸ κακοῦ). 25 There are at least one hundred extant examples of this type.26 There is also a recipe in the Greek magical papyri for creating a small wax statuette (“three handbreadths tall”) of a similar god designed to bring prosperity and success to homes, shops and even temples.27 Since this axe-head from Ephesus is rather large (13.5 × 5.3 cm.), it, too, was most likely used as an amulet to protect a house or a shop or served as a good luck charm. There is no hole or attachment for suspension, and since the top of the scene in Figure 1 lies close to the cutting edge of the axe, we should

Kernos, 27 | 2014 224

probably imagine that this axe-head was set up with the sharp edge pointing up, perhaps against incoming lightning.

11 A second large axe-head now in Athens is said to come from Argos. It is of green color (serpentine) and slightly shorter than the Ephesian specimen (10.3 × 5.2). One side was engraved in Roman times with two scenes (Fig. 2).28 In the lower half we see the standing figures of Athena and Zeus in a scene familiar from a gigantomachy like the one on the Altar of Zeus at Pergamon: the goddess is about to stab a tiny snake-footed “giant” with her spear, while her father looks on holding a scepter topped by an eagle, his usual attribute. There are, however, some eastern features: Zeus grasps a wilted ankh-sign in his left hand and Athena holds or supports with her left hand a tall ribbed rhyton.29 In the upper register we find a simplified version of the well-known Mithraic icon: the god kneels on the back of the bull and stabs it, while three animals surround it from below. This second scene is encircled by two magical words: βακαζιχυχ and παπαφειρις. The first often appears alone on gemstones and translates the Egyptian phrase “son (or “soul”) of darkness”, even though it paradoxically is used often to describe solar deities, here presumably Mithras.30 The second word has yet to be fully deciphered.31 The parallelism between the two scenes on this axe-head is noteworthy: in both powerful gods (Mithras and Athena) threaten or stab powerful adversaries (a bull and a snake-footed “giant”). Because this object is unique, it is difficult to say what it was used for, but the parallel scenes of divine triumph and the magical inscriptions both suggest that it was a protective amulet.32 The orientation of the design, as we can see in Figure 2, suggests that the axe-head was positioned with its cutting edge pointing downwards, that is, in the opposite direction of the Ephesian stone. The back of this axe-head is uninscribed.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 225

Figure 2

12 Our third example combines text, symbols and the stone medium in a somewhat different way. At the turn of the last century archaeologists discovered at Pergamum a so-called “magician’s kit” that contained three longitudinal slices from at least two different axe-heads.33 All three were inscribed on the obverse and reverse with the same pair of inscriptions, one much larger than the other, as we can see in Figure 3.34

Figure 3

13 All three of the Pergamum slices were oriented with the cutting edge pointing down like the Argive stone. The two larger examples were apparently cut from the center of the same bluish-black stone and in their dimensions they are similar (11 × 5.5 cm.) to both the Ephesian and Argive stones. The third slice, however, was cut from the outer edge of a smaller greenish-black stone and, because of it is of smaller dimensions (8 × 4.5 cm.) and has a hole drilled laterally through its top for suspension, it will be discussed below in the context of body-amulets.

14 On the Pergamon amulets we find only words and symbols surrounded by a circle and (in the larger inscription) by the well known iaeô-logos, a long palindrome.35 Mastrocinque points out, however, that the words παι φθα φωζα, which are repeated thrice in the smaller circular inscription (at lines 2, 6 and 11), seem to be a version of the words that appear in the first two lines of the Ephesian stone: παι {ζηθ} φθλ θωζα.36 Scholars have, in fact, deciphered the phrase as an Egyptian acclamation: “This is Ptah, the Healthy One!”37 This acclamation, in some cases followed by a similar series of symbols, appears elsewhere on a magical gem,38 in three magical recipes for protection, 39 and on three metal lamellae: two gold examples found in Thessaloniki and Italy and a silver Aramaic one of unknown provenance.40 A ring-stone in the Skoluda collection, however, provides the best comparandum, because it is carved from polished obsidian,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 226

a type of stone used to make pre-historic axe-heads, and because it is inscribed with similar texts and symbols (Fig. 4):41 Αβλαναθαναλβα παι φθα φωξα [SYMBOLS] ακραμα-χαμαρει σεσενγενβαρφαρανγ ης θωβαρραβαυκωωπιτει ιαρβαθαγραμνηφι βλωχνημεωθ

Figure 4

15 The name παι φθα φωξα in the second line is, first of all, followed by the same magical symbol (see Fig. 4), which in line 6 of the smaller Pergamum inscription (see the stone on the left in Figure 3) also follows παι φθα φωξα. The magical names above and below, moreover, — ablanathanalba in line 1 and akrama-chamarei and sesenen-barpharanges in lines 4 and 5 — are the same as those that surround the pantheistic god on the Ephesian stone (Fig. 1). This gemstone would seem, in fact, to be a miniature thunderstone in terms of its polished medium and its text, but it does not have the usual shape.

16 In the larger inscription on the other side of all three of the Pergamum slices, the iaeô- logos encircles a text that begins with magical words and then angel names (Michael, Gabriel, Ragouel and Raphael), the latter of which have been separated from one another, at least on the two larger slices, by extra space, suggesting that the scribe or his source rightly understood them to be discrete words. The inscription continues with a series of magical words that are also separated in similar fashion: ψανχον ια ια αβρια φριξ ακτειρα σθεννω.42 In the midst of these words the pair αβρια φριξ recalls the only two words that are to appear on Timotheus’ thunderstone: αφια αφρυξ. We expect,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 227

of course, that all of the words that follow on the heels of the angels are the names of similarly powerful supernatural allies. The first word ψανχον may be a corrupted transliteration of an Egyptian phrase meaning “he of darkness”43 and the two short words ια ια, which seems to be a kind of ritual cry that introduces a powerful name, often of Jewish origins, e.g. GMA 7.2 (ια ια ια Ιαω Σαβαωθ [Αδωναι) or GMA 33, where each of thirty angel-names is introduced by the singular cry ια.44 The doubled cry on the Pergamon stone supports expectation that the next two words αβρια φριξ are also divine names or titles. The word αβρια certainly fits the bill. A gem in the British Museum depicts Zeus-Sarapis on one side and on the other: αβρια ια ια αρχαωθ αρβας Ιαω (u 31) and on a gold amulet from Sicily that calls itself the “Phylactery of Moses”, we find the words αβρια[]ς Ιαω (GMA 32.18). Kotansky (ad loc.) suggests, in fact, that αβρια is a Greek rendering of a common Hebrew epithet for Jahweh “strong, powerful”. Given the Jewish epithets and angel names that accompany αβρια on the Pergamon slices and these two other amulets, his suggestion certainly seems apt.

17 Should the second word be φριξ (Pergamon) or φρυξ (Timotheus)? There are two more comparanda. In a papyrus recipe for prognostication, a laurel leaf is to be inscribed (PGM IV 2209): αβραα, σὺ εἶ ὁ τὰ πάντα προμηνύων μαρι αφραξ (“ Abraa, you who reveal all things, Mari Aphrax).” Since μαρι (Aramaic for “lord”) appears in other magical invocations as a kind of detachable title,45 the words αβραα … αφραξ when taken together appear to be further variations on the two magic words preserved by Timotheus. Elsewhere in the magical papyri, Zeus is invoked as the “star-grouping god, you thunderbolt-with-great-clap-Zeus-confining-world flashing-abundant-bolt- bestowing daimon, cracking-through-the-air, ray-producing etc.”46 The last two compounds appear in Preisendanz’ edition as ἀερ<οδ>ιαφρίξ ἀκτινοπ<οι>ῶν,47 but the reading of the papyrus (αερια φριξ ακτι) needs no emendation, because it most probably is drawn from the same tradition as the words known to Timotheus and the Pergamum stone-cutter: Thunderstone amulet (Timotheus) αφια αφρυξ Invocation (Pergamon slices) αβρια φριξ ἀκτιρα Invocation of Zeus (PGM XII 176) αερια φριξ ἀκτινοπων Invocation for prophecy (PGM IV 2209) αβραα αφραξ 18 The first three cases are also linked, of course, by thunder and lightening: the first two are inscribed on thunderstones and the third appears in an invocation of Zeus as a god of thunder and lightening.

19 There are, it seems, two plausible readings of the first term. The first is Kotansky’s suggestion (mentioned earlier) that αβρια is a Hebrew epithet (“powerful”) of Jahweh, which makes good sense in the context of the Pergamon invocation, where this word is preceded by a string of angel names. Its closest parallel, however, is the αερια φριξ preserved in the PGM XII invocation, which can, in fact, be construed as Greek ἀερία φρίξ (“fearful-shuddering up in the air”), an apt description of a thunderbolt. The Greek noun φρίξ “shuddering” is related to a number adjectives that show up in curses48 and the prefixes φριξ- and φρικτο- stand at the beginning of compound adjectives used to describe the supernatural allies of the magician, for example φριξωποβρονταξαστράπτης (“hurler of frightful thunder and lightening”) describing Zeus-Serapis (PGM V 19–20). And given the close similarity of epsilon + rho to phi, is quite easy to understand how αερια might end up in the Byzantine excerpt of Timotheus as αφια.49 Timotheus, however, recorded the second word differently as φρύξ, which

Kernos, 27 | 2014 228

appears (LSJ s.v.) to be a rare word for “firewood” and is cognate with φρύγειν (“to roast”” or “to scorch”) and φρυκτός (“torch” or “firebrand”), the last of which could also be an appropriate term for lightening. Timotheus and the PGM XII invocation, therefore, either invoked a “shuddering high in the sky” or a “firebrand high in the sky”. But Hebrew αβρια can also be construed as part of the other versions of the phrase that we see on the Pergamon slices and the prophetic spell in PGM IV, e.g. “powerful shuddering’ or “powerful firebrand”.50

20 A fourth large axe-head of mottled brown, grey and white color is inscribed with Greek letters and resides in the British Museum. It was purchased in 1885 in Smyrna and measures approximately 8.8 × 4.7 cm.51 The inscriptions on the sides were read as βακχε/αυρι/ζωεον (obv.) and εχλαμσι/πυ/ον/η (rev.) by Bonner, who found the text to be unintelligible, except for βακχε which he took to be the popular epithet of Dionysus, which is probably correct.52 On a recent visit to the museum, however, I was able to make out the following: βακχε/μυρι/ζωον (obv.) and εξλαμσι/πυρ/ον/θη (rev.).53 Dionysus’ presence here is unexpected, until we recall that a thunderblast did, in fact, end the human portion of his life as he lay in the womb of his mother. The epithet Bacchios appears, however, in only one other magical text and the reading is not sure.54 The rest of the letters on the obverse of this axe-head (μυρι/ζωον) may be some form of the verb μυρίζειν, “to anoint”. The other side is more promising, but corrupted: εξλαμσι πυρ could easily hide a phrase describing lightening, e.g. something like “the fire will gleam forth”.55

21 Our fifth example of a large inscribed axe-head is a dark-green polished stone 11 cm in length that was said to have been found in the ruins of Herculaneum in the nineteenth century.56 Although it carries no images, it is inscribed as follows with a series divine or magical names, all but three of which (marked with an asterisk below) also appear on the Ephesian stone:57 Ιαω Αναλβα- Αβλαναθ Σαβαωθ Αδωναιον Ελωαιο* Λακιωβ* Βηλβλααν* Αεηιουω Σεσενγεν- βαρφαραν- Γην

22 The scribe wrote the text with the cutting edge of the axe pointing downwards, starting at the very top, were the stone is very narrow, as a result of which he divided up the palindrome ablanathanalba incorrectly, inscribing the second half of it (Analba) first.

23 We can, I think, sum up the common features of these larger inscribed axe-heads as follows:

Place Dimensions/Stone Blade Symbols/Images Common Inscriptions type

Kernos, 27 | 2014 229

Ephesus (Fig. 1) 13.5 × 6.3 cm up pantheistic deity παι {ζηθ} φθλ θωζα (hard, brown, ablanathanalba, Jewish polished) names, vowels, and others.

Argos (Fig. 2) 10.3 × 5.2 cm down Mithra / bull πα πα φειρις (serpentine) Gigantomachy βακαζιχυχ

large Pergamon 11 × 5.5 cm down symbols παι φθα φωζα slices (Fig. 3) (blue-black, αβρι αφριξ polished)

Smyrna 8.8 × 4.7 cm up none βακχε/μυρι/ζωον

(mottled brown, εξλαμσι/πυρ/ον/θη grey and white)

Herculaneum 11 cm long down none ablanathanalba, Jewish (dark green) names, vowels, and others.

Timotheus of Gaza axe-head NA NA αφια αφρυξ 58

24 As we saw earlier, the texts on the stones from Ephesus and Herculaneum share many similarities. Those stones from Ephesus and Pergamum seem, however, the most similar, not surprisingly given their geographic proximity. Both have an image or text surrounded by a circular device and preserve different versions of the acclamation παι φθα φωζα (“This is Ptah, the healthy one!”). Given the many extant variations of this phrase (see n. 38–40), one wonders if the still indecipherable magical word on the Argive stone (πα-πα-φειρις) is a corrupt version of it. The words αφια αφρυξ, moreover, that Timotheus recommends inscribing on a thunderstone are very close to the words αβρια φριξ on the Pergamum slices. It is important to stress, however, that all of these axe-heads either address, name or depict powerful supernatural entities, who often have the pronounced features of a solar or sky god.

25 Since ancient and medieval authors and modern folklorists are in nearly unanimous agreement that such stones protected buildings against lightning, we can probably assume that all of these larger stones were used as to protect houses from this danger. The appearance of the pantheistic god and the Mithraic icon on smaller amulets (both household and personal) corroborates this protective goal. The Pergamum slices can also tell us, I suspect, something about the business of amulets, for it would seem that the person who created them wanted to get as much profit as he could out of the powerful stones in his possession, so he cut them up vertically in such a way as to preserve the outline of the axe-head.58

Smaller Axe-Heads as Body Amulets

26 Unlike the larger uninscribed thunderstones discovered in Roman buildings, archaeologists can more easily ascertain when smaller prehistoric axe-heads were reused as personal amulets in the later periods, either because they were discovered in a

Kernos, 27 | 2014 230

grave on the neck or chest of the deceased or because they, like the smallest Pergamum slice, have been perforated or otherwise adapted for suspension. A bronze-age grave at Phaistos, for example, yielded a small black example pierced at the top so that the blade hangs down59 and in an iron-age grave at Picenum a small Neolithic axe-head was found bound up with strips of copper and bronze, apparently for suspension in the same direction.60 An axe-head of green stone also perforated at the blunt end was discovered in an Etruscan grave at Poggio delle Granate and dates to the turn of the 6th and 5th centuries BCE.61 A tomb at Narce in the Faliscan region contained the remains of a necklace of blue beads and a single pre-historic axe of diorite as a central pendent (Fig. 5).62

Figure 5

27 The grave of a Christian woman in Syracuse named Epiphania shows that the practice persisted quite late: it contained a thunderstone of green serpentine pierced in the same place for suspension.63 In the case of these smaller axe-heads, then, we can trace the continuous use of uninscribed examples as pendants from the Bronze Age to Late Antiquity: in his recent survey of thunderstones from Italy and Sicily, Cherici listed thirty-seven examples discovered in Greek, Etruscan and Roman graves.64 In most cases the stone seems to have been worn with the blade pointing downwards.

28 There are a half-dozen other inscribed Neolithic axe-heads whose small size suggests that they were probably worn on the body as amulets.65 A dark-green axe-head in the Volos Museum, said to come from the Elasson area in Thessaly, is inscribed with a single magical name: Αβρασαξ. The stone measures 6.3 cm. in length (no width given) and to read the name one must hold the stone sideways with the blade pointing left.66 More complicated is a polished obsidian stone, now in a private Italian collection, which measures 7.2 cm tall and 5 cm wide and is perforated in the blade end for

Kernos, 27 | 2014 231

suspension — that is upside down when compared with almost all of the other small thunderstones found in graves. Both sides were, moreover, engraved in the Roman period with similar Mithraic designs.67

29 On one side, Saturn faces outward, holding a harpê in his right hand and in his left a staff topped by two small male busts; he wears a crown that includes two snakes and scarab and he is entirely surrounded by a string of magical symbols. On the other side (Fig. 6), the god Mithras faces right with the usual Persian cap and corona on his head; he holds up a sword in his left hand and spear in his right and the same series of symbols encircles him.68 A short text in Greek was inscribed over Saturn’s head along the cutting edge of the stone in letters much smaller than the symbols which encircle Saturn: σσοχ μουι σρω ρος μ παμαψιι παγουρη φονο θουθο.69 These seem to be a series of divine names, of which three are well known: μουι σρω (“lion ram”), παγουρη (“the light that diminishes”) and θουθ (Thoth).70

Figure 6

30 The British Museum has in its collection two now controversial axe-heads of even smaller size, which are decorated or inscribed on both sides. For a long time they were thought to have been inscribed in the Roman period, but more recently they have been suspected as post-classical artifacts, in large part because their media and shape make them strange outliers among the magical gems with which they were collected and eventually published.71 These stones do conform well, however, with the corpus of repurposed axe-heads discussed here, both inscribed and un-inscribed. The first of the two in London is a jade (nephrite) axe-head purchased in Egypt in the nineteenth century and covered on both sides with inscriptions.72 This stone is not perforated, but it is small enough (4.7 cm × 3.0 cm) to have been worn or carried as a personal amulet. It seems, moreover, that while inscribing Side A (Fig. 7) the scribe avoided an old chip

Kernos, 27 | 2014 232

on the top left side of the pre-historic stone by shifting the inscription to the right for the first three lines.73

Figure 7

31 When oriented as here with its cutting edge downwards, it reveals rows of Greek letters (nearly all vowels) alternating with those mixed with magical symbols (the symbols are indicated by asterisks):74 Εροβ χ **η αεηιουω (= seven vowels in proper order) ιη ***** **ζη ωαιιαω (= inverted palindrome of the name Ιαω = Jahweh) ιιου/αωη (= seven vowels out of order, with a second iota replacing the epsilon) 32 The content of this inscription with its vowels and symbols is consistent with other magical amulets, but the workmanship is very low: the letters, for example, are of variable execution (some have serifs, while others do not) and the omega appears in two different shapes. It also seems that the scribe initially misjudged how he would fill the entire surface of the blade. After four lines of small, evenly placed letters and symbols, he was apparently forced to double the size of the letters in the last four.

33 Side B is inscribed much more competently and consistently (Fig. 8). It is laid out, however, in a unique format: we see a garland with eighteen leaves, each inscribed with Greek letters.75

Kernos, 27 | 2014 233

Figure 8

34 The inscriptions on the individual leaves are basically vowels or the names of powerful male and often solar gods, whose names presumably give added protection to the already powerful thunderstone.76 The green color of this stone may have encouraged the depiction of a garland, which as scholars have pointed out, was sometimes used as an amulet in magical ceremonies. A papyrus handbook from Egypt, for example, preserves a recipe for a megiston phylaktikon (“best protective amulet”) to keep the body of a sorcerer safe while performing an elaborate divination spell: we are instructed to inscribe a different magical symbol on each of the seven leaves of a laurel sprig (PGM I 270–71).77 We can intuit a similar arrangement in the description of a bough of inscribed laurel leaves in another spell for divination (PGM II 65–68), where the laurel branches are described as ‘twelve-leafed’ (dôdekaphylla) and are to be inscribed with twelve magical words (the so-called uessemmigadon-formula), presumably one word for each leaf.78 We are then told to weave this laurel bough into a garland with white and red woolen fillets and wear it, presumably for protection as in the PGM I recipe.79

35 It is natural, of course, to connect laurel boughs or wreaths used in divination spells with Apollo, but there may be a much simpler explanation for the inscribed garland on the London axe-head: Pliny is at pains to insist that the popularity of laurel has less to do with Apollo and more to do with the belief that laurel could protect against lightening. He points out that garlands of laurel “kept vigil before the doorways” of Roman emperors (NH XV, 127) and that the laurel was the only shrub used as an indoor plant by men, because it is never struck by lightening (XV, 134). More importantly in this context, he tells us (and Suetonius confirms) that the emperor Tiberius used to put on a laurel wreath whenever he heard thunder to protect himself from lightening.80 It would appear, then, that the person who inscribed Side B of this axe-head has cleverly combined two well-known apotropaia of lightening — a thunderstone and a garland of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 234

laurel inscribed with powerful names. Such a reading helps explain, moreover the puzzling orientation of Side B. We saw that the cutting edge must point downwards in order to read the text on Side A and that this is the orientation of nearly all of the smaller axe-heads, but if we hold Side B in such a position, nearly all of the inscriptions on the leaves are upside down and thus difficult to read. Michel points out, however, that Side B (see Fig. 8 again) gives us a bird’s eye view of the top of the head of a person wearing the garland: the four short leaves trail off the nape of the neck, the longest leaves to the side and a space is left open near the forehead.81 This would, in fact, be the view that an incoming lightening bolt would have had of the laurel wreath on top of Tiberius’ head and it suggests that this amulet was probably placed on some horizontal surface with Side B facing upwards.82

36 Given the great differences in execution and orientation of the two sides of this axe- head, it seems most probable that they were executed at different times by different persons. On Side A, the alteration between lines of Greek vowels and magical symbols is consistent with inscriptions on other amulets, while other details suggest that it was inscribed by an amateur stonecutter and used as a simple body amulet with the cutting edge hanging down. Side B, on the other hand, was perhaps inscribed at some later time and combines in a more sophisticated manner two well known amulets effective against lightening: a thunderstone and a laurel wreath. It was, moreover, probably carried or positioned horizontally.

37 A second small (4.5 × 3.25 cm) polished green axe-head (jadeite) in the British Museum has also been recently labeled a post-antique production.83 It is engraved on both sides and but is only convex on the obverse side, unlike the other examples discussed so far, which are all doubly convex. It was designed to viewed with the blade pointing down.

38 On one side we see a finely executed mummiform Osiris, and on the reverse an ouroborus-serpent that encloses two rows of symbols followed by five rows of Greek letters. Both designs are curiously dwarfed by the dimensions of the axe-head and one wonders if they were originally created for a smaller oval gemstone. Although some of these symbols on the reverse have raised suspicions (see n. 84), the combination XE and the symbols that look like an asterisk, a theta or a reversed Roman E or F do show up on other amulets.84 Beneath the symbols we find the following Greek letters: ταλααρ αιω ωαρλορο ντοκο νβαι

39 A nearly identical inscription was inscribed on a gem, now lost, but once illustrated by Chifflet in the seventeenth century: ταλα/αραιω/ωαραορο/ντοκο/νβαι.85

40 There are signs that this text, like those on the other inscribed thunderstones, is an invocation: the three vowels in line 2 (αιω) seem to be artificially isolated on the London axe-head and contain in scrambled order the letters of the name Iaô. Scholars have long noted, moreover, that the last two lines (ντοκο/νβαι) transliterate an Egyptian acclamation: “You are the lord of the soul!.”86 In fact, a number of parallels suggest that the second and third lines are also part of this invocation, albeit badly corrupted:87 (i) alone on the reverse of a black jasper gem with the womb-and-key design: μαρμαρ/οτοκομ/ραι);88 (ii) isolated by punctuation in the invocation of an erotic spell (PGM IV 2755): μορμοροντοκουμβαι; (iii) in a recipe for a curse tablet that ends

Kernos, 27 | 2014 235

with a magical name (PGM IX 14): ιαωμορμοροτοκονβαι; and (iv) on a “jaspe sanguin” engraved with an eagle and βορβοροντοκομβα Ιαω.89 We can compare the texts as follows: BM 1*: ταλααρ αιω ωαρλορο ντοκονβαι Chiflet gem: ταλα αραιω ωαραορο ντοκονβαι Black jasper: μαρμαρο τοκομραι PGM IV 2755: μορμορο ντοκουμβαι PGM IX 14: ιαω μορμορο τοκονβαι jaspe sanguin βορβοροντοκομβα Ιαω 41 It seems, then, that the inscription preserved on the axe-head in London originally read something like “Talaar Iao Mormoro, you are lord of the soul!” The names Talaar and Mormoro are of uncertain meaning,90 but it is clear that despite the corruption and confusion, the person who inscribed the London axe-head was using a handbook that retained the proper word division of the invocation.

42 It may well be the case, however, that this axe-head, like the other London stone, was also inscribed at two different points in time: although, as the parallels show, the symbols and Greek letters on the reverse are consistent with a late-antique date, scholars have consistently compared the image of Osiris on the obverse with much earlier pre-imperial styles, either of the Ptolemaic kingdom or of the late Roman republic.91 The green color of this stone and the previous example also argues for their authenticity: of the thirty-seven smaller prehistoric axe-heads re-used as amulets in Italian and Sicilian graves, fourteen were of green stone.92

43 We can, then, summarize as follows the six inscribed smaller axe-heads, including as an appendix in square brackets for comparison the oval obsidian gem from the Skoluda collection:

Place Dimensions/ Blade Images Common Inscriptions Stone type

small Pergamon 8 × 4.5 cm down none παι φθa φωζα, αβρια φριξ slice (Fig. 3) (suspension hole) and many other names polished green- black stone

Thessaly 6.3 cm long sideways to none Αβρασαξ dark-green stone the left

NA (Fig. 6) 7.2 × 5 cm up Saturn both encircled by symbols; (suspension hole) Mithras solar names over Saturn’s polished obsidian head

Egypt/BM 504 4.7 × 3 cm Ob: down NA vowels/symbols (Figs. 7–8) jade/nephrite

Rev: side garland of many magical names inscribed leaves

Kernos, 27 | 2014 236

NA/BM 1* (Fig. 4.5 × 3.25 cm down mummiform Ιαω Μορμορο ντοκον βαι 9) polished jadeite Osiris (“you are lord of the soul”) ouroborus

[Skoluda gem polished obsidian NA none παι φθa φωζα and many (oval ringstone) other names]

44 One obvious feature shared by all six stones is their polished black or green media and the appearance of various divine names, as well as acclamations: two Egyptian (παι φθa φωζα and ντοκον βαι) and one Greek (ἀερία φρίξ) or Hebrew (αβρια φριξ). In addition to the circles on the Pergamon stones (discussed earlier), we find the ouroborus- serpent on BM 1* and the swirl of symbols around the figures on both sides of the Mithriac axe-head.

45 According to Timotheus of Gaza axe-heads were used as amulets to ward off lightning from houses, but can we make the same claim for these smaller examples, many of which seem to have been worn as pendants on the body? The Latin lapidary of Damigeron and Evax, roughly contemporaneous with Timotheus, indeed stresses the personal use of the lapis ceraunius (Chapter 12):93

46 If a person carries this stone in a pure state, he will never be struck by lightening, nor a house or villa in which it is placed. Moreover, if someone has one while on a sea voyage, he will run the risk of neither lightening nor hurricane. Even more, whoever carries it for a victory or into a contest, will triumph in everything.

47 Here we can see how the personal use of these thunderstones is mainly concerned with protection against lightning, but can be extended to cover other situations as well. And as we saw in the necklace in Figure 5, women might wear these as part of their jewelry, something that Tertullian mentions in passing (de cultu feminarum 1.1.3). This personal use of the smaller thunderstones should not, of course, be a surprise, because the ancients, who were often out and away from their homes, used many other kinds of body amulets against lightning.94

Conclusions

48 Of the ten extant inscribed axe-heads discussed here, six — the stones from Argos, Thessaly and Herculaneum, the two London body-amulets and the smaller Pergamon slice — were fashioned from hard greenish stones and all ten carry Greek letters and/or magical symbols. A circular design informs many. On the Ephesian stone and one of the smaller pendants in London, an ouroborus serpent encloses text and symbols, while simple circles and a long palindrome accomplishes this on the Pergamum slices. Lines of text or symbols also encircle images: on the upper register of the Argive stone Mithras and the bull are surrounded by Greek magical words and on different sides of the obsidian pendant Mithras and Saturn are each engulfed by a swirl of magical symbols. There is, moreover, in the design of these objects a tendency to focus on the cutting edge of the axe, as if this is where the power lies. The two stones with Mithraic scenes, for example, or the small London axe with the laurel wreath seem to fill up the entire surface down to the blade, even if (as on Side A of the London stone) this means increasing the size of the letters to do so. The Herculaneum stone displays the same

Kernos, 27 | 2014 237

anxiety: in the bottom line we find the three letters of the last name on the list spread out equally across the line and in a size nearly twice as large as those in the first line. On the Ephesian and Pergamene stones, on the other hand, we find that the design fills up only the half of the axe-head that is closest to the cutting edge. The designer of the Thessalian stone inscribed the single name “Abrasax” horizontally beginning near the edge.

49 We have already noticed, moreover, the eastern Mediterranean provenance of five of the stones (Ephesus, Pergamum, Smyrna, Thessaly and Argos) and that the London garland-amulet was purchased in Egypt; it is also an easterner, Timotheus of Gaza (see n. 56), who tells us to inscribe a thunderstone with the words αφια αφρυξ, which show up in slightly different form (αβρια φριξ) on the Pergamene slices. In fact, there is only one inscribed stone, the one from Herculaneum, that is said to come from the western half of the Empire, although from an area well known for deep Hellenic influence. One sees, moreover, deep Egyptian influence on most of these axe-heads, both in their imagery (the mummiform Osiris, the ouroborus-snakes, the image of the pantheistic deity, the ankh-sign in Zeus’ hand on the Argive one) and their acclamations: “This is Ptah, the healthy one!” and “You are the lord of the soul!” We have seen, moreover, that others are inscribed with the names or images of solar or sky gods (Jahweh, Mithras, Zeus), who oversee thunder and lightening. When examined, then, in the light of the comparanda assembled here, it seems clear that the two small green axe-heads in the British Museum should not be dismissed too quickly from the ranks of bona-fide Roman-period amulets, although as we have seen there is in both cases a strong suspicion that the obverse and reverse of each were inscribed at different times.

50 We can also infer some aspects of the perceived efficacy of these pre-historic axe-heads by stressing how Roman-period craftsmen extended or distributed their power into smaller and presumably more economical forms. The axes discussed as a class above are notable for their medium (usually hard black, brown or green stones), their high polish (thanks to the hard work of Neolithic artisans) and their peculiar shape and cutting edge. We saw, for example, how the creator of the Pergamene amulets cleverly preserved all three of these features by slicing the stones on a longitudinal axis to preserve the outline of the stones’ unique shape and then polishing the cut surfaces before inscribing them. Thus the owner multiplied his profit by producing as many amulets as possible from the stones in his possession. The creator of the Skoluda ringstone seems to have had similar ambitions: he cut and polished a typical oval gemstone from obsidian — perhaps even a fragment of an old axe-head95 — and then inscribed its polished surface with texts similar to those on the axe-heads. To do so, he preserved two of the features mentioned above, the medium and the polish, but had to abandon the third: the distinctive shape of the axe-head.

51 The larger historical question remains, of course: if beginning in the Bronze Age and continuing down to the Roman period uninscribed Neolithic axe-heads were reused throughout the Mediterranean basin as amulets, why is it that only the Greeks — primarily in the eastern Mediterranean and only in imperial or late-antique times — felt compelled to enhance the apparently inherent protective power of these axe-heads with special texts, images and circular designs? Indeed, there are to my knowledge no extant examples of such thunderstones inscribed with Latin, Aramaic or Demotic Egyptian or with Greek texts from pre-Roman times.96 The answer, I suggest, lies in the epigraphic habit of the Roman Empire, rather than its presumed superstitious

Kernos, 27 | 2014 238

proclivities: indeed, although the inhabitants of bronze-age Phaistos, of iron-age Piscenum, of sixth- or fifth-century BCE Etruria and of the Greek and Latin speaking cities of Italy and Sicily all possessed the technology of writing and all apparently used smaller axe-heads as body-amulets, it was only the Greeks in Roman times and perhaps only in the eastern empire that they used this technology to enhance these otherwise perfectly powerful amulets.

Abbreviations

52 AMB: J. NAVEH AND S. SHAKED, Amulets and Magic Bowls: Aramaic Incantations of Late Antiquity, Jerusalem, 1985.

53 BM: S. MICHEL, Die magischen Gemmen im Britischen Museum, London, 2001, 2 vols.

54 DMG: S. MICHEL, Die magischen Gemmen: Eine Studie zu Zauberformeln und magischen Bilderen auf geschnitten Steinen der Antike und Neuzeit, Geissen, 2004.

55 GMA: R.D. KOTANSKY, Greek Magical Amulets, vol. 1, Opladen, 1994 (Papyrologica Coloniensia, 22.1).

56 PGM: K. PREISENDANZ [AND A. HENRICHS], Papyri Graecae Magicae: Die Griechischen Zauberpapyri, 2nd ed., Stuttgart, 1973–1974, 2 vols.

57 SGG: A. MASTROCINQUE (ed.), Sylloge Gemmarum Gnosticarum, Rome, 2003–2008, 2 vols. (Bollettino di Numismatica Monografia, 8.2.1 and 2).

58 SM: R. DANIEL, F. MALTOMINI, Supplementum Magicum, Opladen 1990–1991, 2 vols. (Papyrologica Coloniensia, 16.1 and 2).

59 SMA: C. BONNER, Studies in Magical Amulets Chiefly Graeco-Egyptian, Ann Arbor, 1950 (University of Michigan Studies, Humanistic Series, 4).

NOTES

1. I owe thanks to Gideon Bohak, Fred Brenk, Attilio Mastrocinque and Arpad Nagy for reading and commenting on earlier drafts and special thanks, as always, to Chris Entwistle for his repeated help with information on the artifacts in the British Museum. Many thanks also to Andrew Reynolds for his help with the medieval and ethnographic materials. 2. Studies at the turn of the last century include EVANS (1897), p. 50–59, BLINKENBERG (1911), COOK (1925), SELIGMANN (1927), p. 181–197 and HARRISON (1927), p. 56–60, most of whom understood the practice to be some kind of human or at least European universal. Historically nuanced studies have been few and focused on some discrete social group, e.g. the Gnostics in KING (1868) and ILIFFE (1931) or the Mithraists in DELATTE (1914) and MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 51–64. In recent times archaeologists have become increasingly interested in the widespread distribution of these Neolithic axe-heads in Roman sites, e.g. ADKINS – ADKINS (1985), MERRIFIELD (1987), p. 10–12 and QUAST (2011) and medieval ones, e.g. CARELLI (1997). For the recent doubts about the British Museum stones see MICHEL (2001), nos. 1* and 504 and the detailed discussion in the second half of this paper.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 239

3. For Greek text and app. crit., see HAUPT (1869), p. 30, lines 26–28, quoted and discussed by COOK (1925), p. 507 n. 1. For translation and discussion see BODENHEIMER – RABINOWITZ (1949), who argue that the fragments of Timotheus are prose excerpts from a hexametrical poem on animals written around 500 CE. The recipe for a thunderstone amulet appears in their edition as Chapter 57k; this chapter survives in a single manuscript in Paris (no. 2422). The sentence about thunderstones is appended to the excerpt about the kingfisher (halcyon), which claims that the heart of the bird worn in a gold capsule at the neck protects the wearer from thunder or lightening. At this point Timotheus adds his advice about the thunderstone, presumably because the kingfisher amulet recalled it to his mind. The unique manuscript preserves the letters of the magical words as αφια αφρυξ and if these words were excerpted directly from his hexametrical poem, one would expect them to be metrical. COOK (1925), p. 507 n. 1 interpreted these words as a corruption of the phrase ἀφίει ἄφρυκτα (“let [sc. my belongings] be unscorched!”). 4. Quoted by Pliny the Elder, NH XXXVII, 51. Sotacus is the only ancient or medieval author who mentions the hostile or aggressive use of these stones. 5. RIVES (2009), p. 61–65 points out that Pliny generally uses the word magus to indicate experts (often of an unsavory nature, but without any explicit Persian orientation) in the plant and mineral lore that makes up much of the content of the Natural History, whereas earlier prose writers like Cicero uses the term more narrowly in its ethnic sense of Persian ritual workers. But here it is quite possible that Sotacus actually used the Greek word magos in his text to refer to a Persian practice, especially since elsewhere in the fragments he mentions the Persian king. Either way the passage is good evidence that in the Hellenistic period thunderstones were sought out in the eastern Mediterranean as powerful objects. 6. HALLEUX – SCHAMP (2003), p. 250. 7. Quoted in full by MERRIFIELD (1987), p. 10 and CARELLI (1997), p. 402. 8. CARELLI (1997), p. 403. 9. EVANS (1897), p. 53 and COOK (1925), p. 506–507, who also notes that in 1081 CE Alexios Commenes, the emperor of Constantinople, sent as a gift to Henry IV, the emperor of Germany, an astropelêkys set in gold, which given the gold setting was probably designed to be worn as a body amulet — for which see the next section. 10. See ADKINS – ADKINS (1985), whose nos. 15 and 37 date to the first century CE. 11. The parenthetical numbers that follow refer to the sites listed in ADKINS – ADKINS (1985). EVANS (1897), p. 50–59 long ago noted the presence of thunderstones in Bronze Age and later sites and he lists a number of Roman ones. 12. EVANS (1897), p. 109 and ADKINS – ADKINS (1985), p. 69. 13. ADKINS – ADKINS (1985), p. 69–67, MERRIFIELD (1987), p. 10–11 and CARELLI (1997), p. 399 all citing the list in HORNE – KING (1980), who note examples of polished axe heads in temple sites, primarily in BURGUNDY – NORMANDY (p. 374, 379, 382, 392–3, 410, 428–30, 434–35, 458, 464, 468 and 474). 14. See n. 27 below for a magical recipe for an amuletic statuette that could be used to protect a temple. The three axe-heads found in or near Roman kilns are initially puzzling, because they would not seem to protect people directly, but I suggest that these stones were thought by analogy to prevent the explosions and fires frequently associated with kilns. For special amulets hung on kilns in ancient Greece, see FARAONE (1992), p. 55–57. Fear of fire may also explain the one axe-head found beneath a Roman bath. 15. ADKINS – ADKINS (1985), p. 70. CARELLI (1997), p. 404 summarizes the evidence as follows: “The ethnological material contains numerous descriptions of where in the house the thunderstones were kept. [They were] commonly walled in, placed under the floor or the threshold or hung under the roof.” Figure 5 (published in a 1957 ethnography) shows a drawing of a thunderstone hung under a roof. 16. MERRIFIELD (1987), p. 11–12 with fig. 1, who argues that it is of Roman date.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 240

17. See MERRIFIELD (1987), p. 10. EVANS (1897), p. 13 and 58 reports that a large jadeite axe head was found in the roof of the granary of a ruined Cistercian nunnery in Bonn of twelfth- or thirteenth-century date. 18. ILIFFE (1931). It was purchased in Smyrna and is now in the Royal Ontario Museum of Archaeology. Figure 2 is after his Figure 2. Judging from the small photograph in his Figure 1, the design carved on the stone takes up half its surface: the full width and half the height. 19. See LANCELLOTTI (2002) for the use of the ouroborus on Greek magical texts. 20. The last named has been abbreviated: it is missing the letters “bar” which usually appear before pharanges. 21. ILIFFE (1931), p. 307. For a more recent assessment of their role on amulets, see the appendix to MICHEL (2004) ad loc. The Greek letters ουηε between Iaô and Sabaôth consist of the four other Greek vowels that do not appear in Iaô’s name, so perhaps we should understand ιαωουηε as the seven vowels rearranged, so that they can begin with Iaô. 22. ILIFFE (1931), p. 306–307. 23. ILIFFE (1931), p. 307 suggests that παιζηθ be parsed in Greek as “Son of Seth”, but the phrase is entirely Egyptian; see notes 38–40 below for other Egyptian names or titles added to the end of the acclamation, e.g. “Lord of the Abyss” or “Thoth”. 24. The god is usually winged, holds Egyptian staffs or flails, while leaves and animals seem grow from his head and neck. For background and bibliography, see QUACK (2006) who points out that the traditional moniker “pantheistic” over-reaches, since not all the gods are included. He sensibly opts for “polymorphic”, but I use the more familiar term to avoid confusion. 25. BM nos. 290 (dark hematite), 291, (dark green jasper), and 292 (obsidian). 26. See the list in MICHEL (2004), p. 316–321, many of which are inscribed on the same unusual stones, e.g. obsidian, steatite, serpentine, that were used by Neolithic men to make axe-heads. 27. PGM IV 3125–71. The image has the heads of three different gods growing from its neck. For discussion, see MICHEL (2005), p. 144–147, who points out important parallels (in both image and text) between this recipe for a house amulet and a personal amulet of similar design (BM no. 173). 28. Figure 2 is after COOK (1925), p. 512, fig. 390. Below I follow the interpretation of DELATTE (1914), p. 8–9 and MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 25–27. 29. It is an Egyptian rhyton according to DELATTE (1914), p. 8–9 and MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 26–27. HARRISON (1927), p. 57 apparently interpreted the lower scene as some kind of Mithraic initiation: “a figure that looks like a Roman soldier bearing a rod surmounted by an eagle is received by a priest: the soldier is probably qualifying to become an ‘Eagle’.” In the drawing that accompanies her discussion, the snake-footed giant is invisible. 30. DELATTE (1914), p. 10 for evidence of the solar nature of Bakazichuch; MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 26–27 explains the appropriateness of the name “son of darkness”: since in Egypt the sun travels through the underworld every night, it too is associated with darkness. 31. DELATTE (1914), p. 10 and MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 26–27 review the debate and try to connect it with other solar names of Egyptian orientation, like Φιρι and Παφιετι. I offer below a new suggestion below based on parallels from other thunderstones. 32. For the use of the Mithraic icon on amulets, see FARAONE (2013b). 33. WÜNSCH (1905), p. 16 refers to them as “polierte schwartz Steine” and as “Probiersteine” (“touchstones”) that have been polished, perhaps by running water, but GORDON (2002), p. 195 rightly points out that “their true composition has never been ascertained.” In the wonderful color photographs of Norbet Franken available on the Pergamon Museum website — search for «Pergamon Stein» (Inv. Misc. 8612.1–3) at http://emp-web-24.zetcom.ch/eMuseumPlus — the two larger slices appear to be of a dark-grey bluish stone, while the smaller is of a greenish-black hue. Both WÜNSCHad loc. and COOK (1925), p. 512 considered these stones to be amulets.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 241

34. The drawing is after WÜNSCH (1905), plate 4. 35. For the iaeô-logos, see BRASHEAR (1995), p. 3587 s.v. The word has solar connotations and connections to both Jahweh and Ra. 36. MASTROCINQUE (2002), p. 175 n. 6. 37. Noticed by R.K. Ritner apud BETZ (1986), p. 195 n. 143 and 270 n. 2, and MERKELBACH – TOTTI (1990), p. 222 and (1991), p. 57, who supply many parallels. The extra letters on the Ephesian stone (ζηθ) perhaps add the name of another Egyptian god, Seth. 38. MICHEL (2004), p. 243: the anguipede on one side and on the other παι φθα φωζα in a sea of vowels. 39. PGM XIII 1055 is a recipe for “the spell to annul”: an inscribed amulet with παιθ φθα φοωζα and three rows of symbols, the last of which begins with XIII. PGM XXXVI 43 preserves a recipe for an inscribed silver amulet for charm and victory that begins with Iao Sabaoth Adonai, includes ablanathanalba and akrama-chamarei and ends with πε φθα φωζα φνεβεννουνι.PGM XXXVI 211–30 is a recipe for victory charm entitled “Prayer to Helios” that ends with: ablanathanalba akrama-chamarei πε φνα φωζα φνεβεννουνι. The last two recipes add a further title, φνεβεννουνι (“Lord of the abyss”), for which see RITNER n. 37 above. 40. KOTANSKY (1994), no. 40. The phrase παιθ φθα ρωζα appears at the start of a lengthy invocation and is followed by the word παιφωυθ, for which Kotansky suggests reading πεφωυθ which “is perhaps Coptic/Egyptian for ‘the Great Snake’.” MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 56 n. 186 has more recently suggested, however, that the phi is a mistake for theta and that παι θωυθ means “this is Thoth”, which introduces another Egyptian god, for which compare addition “this is Seth” (παι Ζηθ) in the middle of the acclamation on the Ephesian stone (discussed above). A version of this name appears in Greek letters on a silver Aramaic amulet against the evil eye and fever of similar date; see AMB no. 14, where (see fig. 16) the words ζαιρ φθαω φωζα are followed by XII and three-tined fork pointing downwards. Another gold lamella found in a gold amulet case and published by MALTOMINI (2006) has the phrase παιθ φθα φαζαρ followed by XIII ablanathanalba akrama-chamarei and then φνεμενουνι (lines 5–9). We find similar symbols in line 2 of the smaller Pergamon stone (see Figure 3), where παιθ φθα ρωζα is followed by XIII (the first two have serifs) and the triple tined fork, and on the obsidian ring stone (see Figure 4), where it is followed by a line of symbols that ends with XX (one on top of the other) followed by III. 41. MICHEL (2001a), p. 118–119, no. 136 with Tafel 22. My text, which based on the photograph in Figure 4, differs slightly from Michel’s text in lines 6 and 8. 42. These spaces are not always obvious in Wünsch’s drawing (Figure 3 above), but he himself acknowledges some of them when he prints his text (1905), p. 16 as follows: ψανχονιαια αβρια φριξακτειρα σθεννω, translating the fourth word (a hapax) as “Shauderbringerin” and understanding most of these words to be female epithets modifying Sthenno at the end, whom he equates with the Gorgon Sthenno mention briefly by Hesiod (Th., 276). The smaller stone, perhaps because of the limitations in space, shows no spaces between the angel names or the magical words that follow. MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 55 uses a word division closer to mine (ψανχον ιαια αβρια φριξακτειρα σθεννω). 43. The word ψανχον could be a corruption of πανχουχι on a number of gold lamellae and is an Egyptian phrase meaning “he of darkness” (see GMA 4.8, 38.4 and 42.1 and the comments ad loc.). 44. JORDAN (1985), p. 254 suggests that ιαια on an Athenian defixio is the tetragrammaton, but here the letters are printed as if they are two words ια ια. 45. For the Aramaic derivation, see BRASHEAR (1995), p. 3591 s.v. See, e.g. “mari of high renown [ἐνδόξου]” (PGM IV 365, SM 46.17 and 48.18), 18 “mari baiôth/beôth” (PGM IV 367, SM 46.18, 48.18 and 30, 49.36–37 and 50.48), “mari onioxas” (SM 4.37–38, probably a mistake for ἐνδόξου), mari anou (PGM V 16) and mari thaia (PGM XIb 8). 46. PGM XII 75–77 in the translation of R.F. Hock in GMPT.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 242

47. He seems to have had second thoughts, however, about the word division here, because in his notes he cites the suggestion of WÜNSCH (1905), p. 27 that the word be φριξακτί (based on the parallel from the Pergamon slices φριξάκτειρα) and then in the index he printed in the ill-fated third volume to the PGM, gave this entry “φριξακτινοπέ (ΧΙΙ 176).” 48. See, e.g. the φρικτὸν Στυγὸς ὕδωρ (PGM IV 1460: “ the horrible water of the Styx”), the φρικτὰ ὀνόματα used to frighten demons in an exorcism formula (SM 49.49), the φρικταὶ κόραι invoked on a curse in iambic trimeters (SM 42.6) or the φρικώδης φωνή of Hekate in a hexametrical passage that goes back to late classical times (SM 49.69). 49. We should also recall that this word originally appeared in a hexametrical poem and since it sits at the very end of the extract, there is cause to believe it was placed at the end of the verse. The phrase ἀερία φρίξ would, in fact, fit nicely at the end of a hexameter and φρίξ itself is primarily a poetic word (see the preceding note for two other instances where adjectives derived from φρίξ appear in poetic passages preserved in Roman-era incantations). Because adjective ἀερία is feminine and modifies the feminine noun φρίξ, it cannot refer to Zeus himself, although ἀέριος is in fact an epithet of Zeus in Anatolia (e.g. TAM V, no. 616, 3rd cent. CE). In the magical papyri the adjective ἀέριος modifies Arktê the pole-star in an all-purpose invocation (PGM VII 697: ἀ<ε>ρία), as well as the stars (XII 11), daimones (I 216 and IV 2699) and pneumata (e.g. I 97 and 179 and IV 1116). 50. We might imagine, too, that the alternate Pergamon version contained one of two alpha- privative words, either the word or *ἄφρυξ (“unscorched”) or *ἄφριξ (“shudder-less”, i.e. “fearless” or “intrepid”). Neither adjective seems to exist, however, although closely related forms do, for example, the adjective ἀφρυκτός, suggested by Cook as an emendation for the Timotheus passage (see n. 3) or the Callimachean adverb ἀφρικτί, “without shuddering” (Hymn to Diana, 65). It is difficult to imagine a god invoked as “unscorched”, but an epithet of a form similar to *ἄφριξ (“fearless”) does appear on a series of rock-crystal gems that show Helios on one side holding his whip and globe and on the other side an invocation that begins Ζηθ ἄφοβε (“Fearless Seth”). 51. BM +2402. 52. BONNER (1946), p. 36–37 n. 30. 53. I am grateful to Chris Entwistle for allowing me to study and photograph the stone and to publish my new readings here. 54. PGM VII 460–461. It appears in the position in an exorcistic formula where one expects to find the name of Jahweh or some other all powerful sky god: “I adjure you by the glorious Bacchic name!” The papyrus reads οβα (κ)χιου (the kappa is over the chi), which can be read as the common abbreviation of onoma followed by “of Bacchios”. But see BRASHEAR (1995), p. 3594 s.v. “οβακχιου” for possible Egyptian interpretations, e.g. “Grosser der Toten”. 55. For the verb eklampein, see e.g. Hippocrates, Epidemics VII, 88. 56. This is the “green jasper” reported in KOPP (1829), p. 215 — see MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 54 n. 182 — which was only recently published properly in QUAST (2011). 57. This is the text of QUAST (2011). 58. WÜNSCH (1905), p. 39–43, because he insisted that everything found in the “Pergamum kit” was used by the owner during a complicated divinatory session, imagined that the magician stood with one foot upon each of the two larger stones, and around his neck wore the smaller one with the hole bored in its upper edge. There is, however, no compelling evidence that all of the objects found together in Pergamum were designed for a single ritual or purpose — See GORDON (2002) and JACKSON (2012) — and the fact that the extant slices seem to come from at least two different stones suggests there were once other slices, which had presumably been sold off. 59. BLINKENBERG (1911), p. 23 and COOK (1925), p. 507, fig. 382. 60. CHERICI (1989), p. 363.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 243

61. CHERICI (1989), p. 356. 62. The illustration of the necklace in Figure 5 is after BLINKENBERG (1911), p. 29 = COOK (1925), p. 508, fig. 384. Blue beads, of course, have an apotropaic value of their own. 63. See COOK (1925), p. 509, fig. 385; see also CHERICI (1989), p. 362. 64. CHERICI (1989), p. 368–369. 65. MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 54 discusses another possible example known in the nineteenth century, but whose whereabouts are unknown: KING (1885), p. 207 mentions in passing — as proof of the “immense diffusion of these talismans” — “an oval chalcedony … from India [i]ts face (i.e. the obverse) covered with rows of Greek numerals, arranged in sets of four.” He says that the reverse has a long and lacunose text “invoked for the protection of the wearer of the gem” that includes the following: ΩΝΩΣΕ/ ΜΕΣΙΛΑΜΣ …/ΑΗΙΕΗΙ…/ΩΝΗΓΗΙΑ …/ΣΑΒΑΩΘ. The problem here is King’s vague reference to “these talismans”, which could refer to pre-historic ax-heads or just personal amulets inscribed with what he calls “Gnostic” formulae. 66. THEOCHARES (1973), plate 240. The author apparently does not discuss the axe-head in his text, but the caption to the plate reads: “Stone axe-head with incised inscription: ΑΒΡΑΣΑΞ (length 0.06.3 m). Region of Elasson. Volos Museum M 5088.” 67. MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 59–80 with figures 15–16. The photograph in Figure 6 is by Mastrocinque and is used here with his permission. 68. This is the text of MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 59. 69. MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 59–61. 70. MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 63–71. Μουι σρο is part of one of the compound names for the Egyptian sun god (σερφουτ-μουι-σρο) that reflects his shape in the morning (lotus), at noon (lion) and in the evening (ram); see MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 64 and MICHEL (2011), p. 85. Π?????? usuallyαγουρι usually appears in Greek magical texts as part of a pair of Aramaic words also seem to track sunrise and sunset Ζαγουρι-Παγουρι, which means “the light that increases” and “the light that diminishes”; see FARAONE (2013a). 71. MICHEL (2001) dates BM nos. 1* to the eighteenth century and labels 504 “neuzeitlich”. For previous opinions, see, e.g. BONNER (1951), no. 1, who accepted, with reservations, the authenticity of BM no. 1*, and the title of KING (1868), which refers to 504 as a “Gnostic Talisman”. 72. BM no. 504 (= inv. 56587). This stone was first discussed by KING (1868), p. 103–116 = idem (1887), p. 197–212. His illustrations and interpretation were used by EVANS (1897), p. 55 fig. 11 and COOK (1925), p. 511–513, fig. 391. I use the text of MICHEL (2001), p. 308–309, who labels it “neuzeitlich” on the basis of the cuttings, the polish and the type of stone. 73. MICHEL (2001), p. 309 thinks that the chip is more recent and that there are letters or symbols lost at the start of the first three lines. 74. One could argue that all of the characters in lines 2, 4 and 5 are symbols, because zeta and chi sometimes appear in this guise; see, e.g., Mastrocinque, SGG, p. 94–96. I print the final two lines as one, because the last line is slightly indented and because the scribe after line 4 doubles the height of the individual letters and symbols and apparently no longer had room to print his seven letters on the same line. 75. Figures 7–8 are after KING (1868) unnumbered figure facing page 104 = COOK (1925), p. 513, fig. 391. The stone has been republished as Michel (2001), no. 504 and (for a color photograph) Farbtafeln VII. Both King and Michel say that number of leaves on the garland is “fourteen”, i.e. twice the magic number seven, but there are in fact eighteen — unless we discount the four short strands on the left side. 76. The four short leaves at the back of the wreath are each inscribed with three or four vowels (αωη, θηου, ιοω and αωαι) and the rest are clearly all meant to be names in the nominative case of powerful supernatural beings, for example, Sabaôth, the names of angels (Gabriêl and Souriel) or magical demons (Damnameneus, Actinophis, Abrasa[x] and Neixaroplê[x]), and a name

Kernos, 27 | 2014 244

consisting of the seven vowels (Iaôouie) that begins with Iaô (= Jahweh) — i.e. similar (with only one letter changed) to the vowels string Iaôouêe found on the Ephesian stone (see n. 20). The remainder are, to the best of my knowledge, unparalleled on any other magical texts, although their endings suggest that they were designed to be exotic masculine names as well: Iaksiêkezanos, Xriiaxaros, Deimendanês, Orgizamarsos, Kamonaruos, and Xrphneix. For text and discussion of these names see KING (1885), p. 207, MICHEL (2001a), no. 504 and MASTROCINQUE (1998), p. 54. 77. Cited by MICHEL (2001), p. 309. 78. BONNER – YOUTIE (1953) must be correct in assuming that we are to inscribe each of the twelve leaves with a different magical name. 79. For the Greek use inscribed leaves as amulets see FARAONE (2009). 80. NH XV, 136 and Suetonius, Tiberius, 69. 81. See the comments of MICHEL (2001), no. 504 ad loc. 82. The Geoponika (VII, 11) tells us to place a bay branch on top of wine-vats to prevent the wine from turning because of thunder and lightening. Here, too, the laurel is on top, i.e. between the sky and the object to be protected. 83. BM 1* = inv. 56024. MICHEL (2001) ad loc. dates it to the eighteenth century for three reasons: (i) the mummiform Osiris recalls “Etruscanizing” images dating to the late Roman republic and are thus anachronistic; (ii) the appearance of the Latin letter “F” amidst the magical symbols; and (iii) the variety of stone (jadeite). When BONNER (1951), p. 320 no. 1 published this stone sixty years ago, he suggested, in fact, that the image was perhaps of Ptolemaic date and he dated the inscription on the reverse to the Roman period, although he voiced some concern about “suspicious circumstances”: (i) the letter “F” mentioned by Michel, although he grants that this letter can appear as a magical symbol; and (ii) the fact that the second part of the inscription appears on another stone that was a certain forgery. He concluded, however, that the second point was not “conclusive evidence of a forgery.” Neither scholar notes that the stone takes the shape of an axe-head, although this the main focus of the work of King, which is cited elsewhere by Bonner. Michel describes the shape as an isosceles triangle; Bonner says it is “like a lead plummet”. 84. See, e.g., MASTROCINQUE, SGG I, p. 96 (F and asterisk), 97 (theta) and 423 n. 71 and 73 (for the XE). Some of these also appear in the popular Aianagba-logos; see MICHEL, DMG, p. 134–137 with Tabelle 3. 85. CHIFLET (1637), pl. 3.14: it shows the anguipede on the other side. Chiflet’s drawing was in modern times copied onto a grey agate, but as Bonner says in his notes to SMA no. 173: “There is no reason to doubt the authenticity of the stone published by Chiflet.” For a comparison of the seventeenth century drawing and the stone, see MICHEL, DMG, Tafel 104 nos. 1–2. 86. See, e.g., Michel ad BM 1*. 87. BONNER (1950), p. 188 n. 9 noted both of these parallels, but he did not see the full extent of the parallel, undoubtedly because it was so corrupted. 88. DELATTE (1914), p. 87–88 no. 35. 89. VINCENT (1908), p. 412–414 no. 7. 90. Talaar remains inscrutable, but Hesychius glosses the Greek word μόρμορος as φόβος (“fear”) and it seems to be related to a child-killing demoness named Mormo. DELATTE (1914), p. 87–88 mistakenly tried to connect μορμορο with Marmaraôth, because variant he was studying had alphas instead of omicrons. BRASHEAR (1995), p. 3592 discusses μορμοροντοκουμβαι found in the two papyri. 91. Bonner (“Ptolemaic”) and Michel (“Republican”), the latter of whom understood this anachronism to be the mistake of an eighteenth-century carver. J.F. Quack per litteras also has the impression that the mummiform Osiris resembles late-period Egyptian bronzes.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 245

92. CHERICI (1989), p. 354–363 notes green axe-heads from Susa (“serpentina verde”), Populonia (three examples in “pietra verde”), Monte Pitti (“roccia verde”), Bolsena (“nefrite”), Nocera (“giadeite”), l’Aquila (“giadeite”), Capestrano (“giadeite”), Tivoli (“pietra verde”), Marino (“giadeite”), Valvisciolo (“pietra verde”), Satricum (“pietra verde”), and Siracusa (“pietra serpentinoide”). 93. I translate the text of HALLEUX – SCHAMP (2003), p. 250. At the start of this passage Damigeron and Evax claim that the Egyptians call this stone smaragdum (“emerald”), a detail that might reflect the common Neolithic use of green stones (e.g. steatite and jade) to make these axe-heads. 94. Timotheus, for example, in addition to talking about thunderstones, also tells us that a seal skin, when wrapped around a child (?) “averts the missile from heaven” and that the heart of a halcyon bird, encased in a gold capsule protects the wearer from the same; see BODENHEIMER – RABINOWITZ (1949), p. 49. Suetonius remarks (Augustus, 29 and 90) that Augustus, after he was nearly struck by lightening, dedicated a shrine to Jupiter the Thunderer, but henceforth also carried a seal-skin for protection. For similar devices to protect vineyards and crops, see Geoponica I, 14 (sealskin attached to a vine) and I, 16 (hippopotamus skin buried in a field). Plutarch, Mor., 684c reports that soldiers used tents of or seal- and hyena-skin to ward off lightening strikes (664c and 684e). 95. See the report of COOK (1925), p. 506 that in nineteenth-century Greece parts of thunderstones were worn as protection against evil spirits or the evil eye. 96. This pattern seems to persist into the Byzantine period as well. QUAST (2011) Figure 7.1–2 shows two examples of inscribed Greek crosses (without any text).

ABSTRACTS

The re-use of Neolithic axe-heads (also known as “celts” or “thunderstones”) as amulets in Roman times is nowadays underappreciated. As a result, the ancient date of two small inscribed examples in the British Museum (BM nos. 1* and 504) is now in doubt,a negative assessment that arises from the use of insufficient comparanda. When compared with the growing corpus of magical gems, the media of these two small axe-heads (jadeite or serpentine), their high polish and their shape do indeed seem suspicious and difficult to assess as gems per se, but when viewed alongside other thunderstones, inscribed and uninscribed, found in Roman and later sites, we can see that both of the London stones belong to a clearly defined category of thunderstones reused as amulets.

La réutilisation des haches néolithiques (également appelées « celts » ou « pierres de foudre ») comme des amulettes à l’époque romaine est aujourd’hui sous-estimée. En conséquence, la date ancienne des deux petits exemples inscrits du British Museum (BM nos 1* et 504) est maintenant remise en doute, en raison d’une évaluation négative qui découle de l’utilisation insuffisante de comparanda. En comparaison avec le corpus croissant de pierres magiques, les médias de ces deux petites haches (jadéite ou serpentine), leur poli et leur forme semblent en effet suspects et difficiles à évaluer comme gemmes en soi, mais quand on les compare à d’autres haches néolithiques inscrites et anépigraphes trouvées dans sites romains et plus tard, il s’avère que les deux pierres à Londres appartiennent à une catégorie bien définie de « pierres de foudre » réutilisées comme amulettes.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 246

AUTHOR

CHRISTOPHER A. FARAONE The University of Chicago Department of Classics 1115 E. 58th St. US – Chicago, IL 60637 [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 247

Rituels, transmission et savoirs partagés à Éphèse Des associations dionysiaques aux communautés chrétiennes*

Anne-Françoise Jaccottet et Francesco Massa

1 Plusieurs études récentes se sont penchées sur l’évolution ou la diffusion des pratiques cultuelles des Grecs et des Romains, entre tradition et innovation, entre norme et originalité, entre valeurs largement reconnues et particularités locales1. S’il est aujourd’hui admis que les rituels ne sont pas immuables, mais bien en constante adaptation, en dialogue et en interaction avec les différentes composantes de la société, reste à poursuivre la mise en lumière — de cas en cas, comme de façon plus générale — du pourquoi et du comment de ces changements, de leurs fondements complexes et de leur moteur au croisement de dynamiques sociales, politiques ou culturelles. S’interroger plus précisément sur la transmission de pratiques ou de termes rituels peut dès lors représenter un biais par lequel reprendre concrètement et ponctuellement ce questionnement fondamental. Cette démarche ne saurait s’envisager autrement qu’en partant d’un cas particulier, d’un dossier ou ensemble de dossiers circonscrits, pour envisager dans un second temps un élargissement spéculatif de la question à des processus plus globaux. C’est le parti pris par cette étude dont Éphèse sera le point focal. C’est en effet autour de la capitale de la province d’Asie que nous pourrons articuler trois dossiers distincts mais qui se répondent et se révèlent complémentaires dans la perspective d’une analyse plus généralisée de la question des savoirs partagés en matière de référence rituelle.

2 Il s’agira dans un premier temps d’étudier le cas des associations dionysiaques, dont Éphèse nous fournit un corpus intéressant. Largement diffusées dans l’espace et le temps, ces associations se caractérisent d’un bout à l’autre de l’Antiquité par l’indépendance dont chacune fait preuve, tant dans sa forme que dans son profil cultuel. Ce trait fondamental se manifeste notamment dans la disparité des fonctions rituelles attestées dans les documents épigraphiques. Chaque association est un cas unique, une création sur mesure, offrant bien souvent des fonctions qui ne se retrouvent dans aucune autre association bachique et proposant toujours une combinaison originale — exclusive — de fonctions rituelles2. Ces particularités

Kernos, 27 | 2014 248

fondamentales soulèvent directement la question des référents à partir desquels se constitue le profil rituel de tel ou tel groupement cultuel : sur quelles bases sont choisies ou créées les fonctions liées au déroulement du culte, sur quelles traditions religieuses ou littéraires, sur quels emprunts, sur quel substrat régional sont construits les rituels associatifs ? Étudier dans cette perspective le cas particulier des associations dionysiaques dans la seule ville d’Éphèse ne saurait épuiser le sujet loin s’en faut. Mais le dossier éphésien permettra de faire entrer en résonance un examen de la dynamique interne à la cité en matière de références religieuses et une approche des échanges que l’on peut mettre en lumière sur le plan régional. Il s’agira en outre de déterminer si ces échanges sont de nature avant tout cultuelle ou culturelle. En effet, la diffusion littéraire et iconographique de la figure de Dionysos et de son univers imaginaire ou rituel ainsi que le rôle de koinè que joue la référence dionysiaque dans les mondes grec et romain sont à même d’alimenter un savoir très général et partagé dans tout l’espace méditerranéen, sans forcément de lien direct avec une pratique rituelle quelconque ; le cultuel se colore ainsi potentiellement de culturel, selon nos catégories modernes de pensée.

3 C’est dans cette optique, que nous convoquerons, dans un second temps, le témoignage d’Ignace d’Antioche, un des premiers auteurs chrétiens dont nous ayons conservé les écrits, et dont la Lettre aux Éphésiens se révèle riche en échos de traditions cultuelles ou associatives. Cette écriture en résonance avec des réalités rituelles non chrétiennes ouvre notamment de nouvelles perspectives dans l’analyse de la circulation d’un vocabulaire et de concepts traditionnels : savoir rituel véritablement partagé ou koinè culturelle utilisée métaphoriquement pour les besoins d’une communication efficace sur la base de référents que tout un chacun connaît ? Les allusions à des évidences rituelles effectives et bien connues d’un Ignace comme des Éphésiens à qui il adresse sa lettre sont-elles à comprendre également comme un moyen de pallier l’absence d’un vocabulaire de référence chrétien au tout début du IIe siècle de notre ère ?

4 La reprise, dans un troisième volet, d’une inscription mettant en scène le hiérophante public d’Éphèse et révélant son rôle primordial dans la transmission des spécificités rituelles auprès des magistrats qui se succèdent dans les sacrifices officiels ouvrira le débat sur les acteurs et les modalités de transmission d’un certain savoir pratique en matière rituelle.

5 C’est sur la base de la mise en parallèle des trois dossiers examinés que pourront être tentées, en guise de conclusion, des hypothèses sur les moteurs des échanges, transmissions ou innovations rituels, permettant une réflexion sur ce que recouvre in fine la notion de savoir partagé en matière cultuelle.

Les associations dionysiaques éphésiennes

6 Les associations dionysiaques d’Éphèse, qui nous sont perceptibles par le biais de onze inscriptions ou fragments d’inscriptions, offrent un terrain d’analyse fécond à deux points de vue pour évaluer les solutions pratiques et les outils référentiels convoqués en matière de tradition ou transmission cultuelles. La dimension associative premièrement induit une part de création dans l’instauration et la gestion d’un culte qui tient lieu de ciment à ces microcosmes sociétaux. La référence dionysiaque ensuite permet de questionner les relations entre référents culturels et proprement cultuels, par l’ancrage de la figure de Dionysos non seulement dans la sphère rituelle mais bien

Kernos, 27 | 2014 249

plus largement dans les récits, dans les images et tout ce qui nourrit cette koinè dionysiaque que partagent Grecs et Romains.

7 Afin de replacer l’analyse dans le contexte conceptuel antique, il n’est pas inutile de commencer par interroger l’imaginaire de l’installation d’un nouveau culte. C’est en effet la nouveauté qui requiert le plus directement un discours sur la coutume, sa transmission et la légitimité du rite instauré, questions particulièrement de mise dans le cadre des associations dionysiaques. Un document bien connu de Magnésie du Méandre nous permet de percevoir ce discours à propos de l’instauration du culte dionysiaque dans la cité.

8 C’est par une inscription du IIe siècle de notre ère qui retranscrit un oracle pythique censé avoir été rendu à époque hellénistique à propos de l’instauration du culte de Dionysos dans la cité que nous pouvons entrer dans la dialectique de la nouveauté rituelle et ses présupposés en matière de transmission de rites légitimes et bien fondés3. Suite à un prodige (σημεῖον ; l’apparition d’une effigie de Dionysos dans un platane abattu par le vent), l’oracle de Delphes est consulté par une délégation de Magnètes, dont l’inscription précise le nom par souci d’accréditer la démarche officielle, réelle ou présentée comme telle4. La réponse du dieu donne les raisons de l’apparition tout comme les moyens d’agir pour répondre à ce signe pour le bien de la communauté (l. 19–30). ... ἐπεὶ πτολί- αιθρα τιθέντες vac. νηοὺς οὐκ ᾠκίσ- 20 σατ’ ἐϋτμήτους Διονύσῳ. vac. Ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς, ὦ δῆμε μεγάσθενες, ἵδρυε νηοὺς vac. θυρσοχαροῦς · ἱερῆα τίθει δὲ εὐάρτιον ἁγνόν · vac. ἐλθέτε δὲ 24 ἐς Θήβης ἱερὸν πέδον, ὄφρα λάβητε Μαινάδας, αἳ γενεῆς Εἰνοῦς ἄπο Κα- δμηείης · vac. αἳ δ’ὑμεῖν δώσουσιν καὶ ὄργια καὶ νόμιμα ἐσθλὰ vac. καὶ θιά- 28 σους Βάκχοιο καθειδρύσουσιν ἐν ἄστει. […] C’est que, lorsque vous avez bâti votre ville, vous avez négligé d’édifier des temples en belle place à Dionysos, — alors voici, peuple magnanime, — élève des temples qui prennent plaisir aux thyrses, mets ici un digne et saint prêtre, — et puis allez en la terre sacrée de Thèbes, où vous prendrez des Ménades de la race d’Inô la Cadméenne. — Elles vous transmettront les orgia et les bonnes traditions et fonderont des thiases de Bakkhos dans la ville […].

9 Le signe que représente l’apparition de l’effigie de Dionysos dans le platane renvoie à un manque cultuel et la solution passe bel et bien par l’instauration d’un culte que les « fondateurs » avaient négligé au moment d’installer la ville. Mais sur quelles bases et selon quelles modalités instaurer ce culte nouveau ? Selon le modèle théorique, ou mythe étiologique livré par l’inscription, il ne suffit pas de construire un temple et d’y installer officiellement un prêtre pour qu’un culte nouveau puisse véritablement fonctionner. Il faut une autorité reconnue qui transmette les bons rites, ceux dont l’origine garantira la légitimité et l’efficience religieuse. L’oracle envoie les Magnètes à la source même du dionysisme, à Thèbes, pour trouver les trois femmes5 aptes à transmettre les ὄργια — à prendre probablement ici dans leur sens matériel6 —, ainsi que les « bonnes traditions » — νόμιμα ἐσθλά —, et qui fonderont encore chacune un thiase.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 250

10 Si l’on analyse les données de l’inscription dans l’optique de la transmission nécessaire à une fondation légitime et fonctionnelle, on constate que ce que les Magnètes, et l’oracle qui les oriente, attendent des trois Ménades thébaines touche trois domaines distincts — et complémentaires — de compétence : • la transmission d’objets (ὄργια), durables ou périssables, équivalant au « nécessaire du bon prêtre ou de la bonne prêtresse », soit ce qui, matériellement, va rendre les rites possibles et efficaces ; • la transmission des traditions (νόμιμα), des règles, qui régissent l’usage des lieux et des choses : la bonne périodicité, les bonnes formules, le savoir-faire, qui assurent le bon déroulement des cérémonies et en donnent peut-être aussi le fondement, le récit étiologique, le λόγος — ἱερὸς λόγος — mettant en lien les rites (donc les hommes) et le dieu ; • la transmission d’un système d’organisation communautaire, par la fondation de thiases, d’organisations rituelles relevant d’une compétence à la fois religieuse et institutionnelle.

11 La légitimité de cette triple compétence attendue des Ménades est cautionnée par leur origine, elle-même cautionnée par l’oracle : Thèbes, que l’oracle qualifie même de « terre sainte (ἱερὸν πέδον)7 ». Thèbes, berceau de Dionysos et de son culte ; mais plus précisément encore, des femmes « de la race d’Inô la Cadméenne », des Thébaines qui, par leur sang, par leur lignée, sont considérées comme héritières des bonnes traditions. Une hérédité biologique pour un héritage rituel et religieux.

12 Que cet oracle ait été effectivement rendu par Delphes ou non8, il nous dévoile l’imaginaire lié à la fondation d’un culte et les référents idéaux recherchés pour légitimer les pratiques rituelles nouvelles au sein d’une cité. L’analyse de l’inscription de Magnésie fait apparaître les traces d’une mémoire littéraire qui agit dans la construction de l’oracle pythique en faisant des trois femmes thébaines, filles de Cadmos, les gardiennes des « bonnes traditions » dionysiaques9 ; mémoire littéraire, ou peut-être, en amont, mémoire d’un imaginaire fort, dont les textes sont des relais autant que des moteurs, tête émergée, à nos yeux, d’un iceberg de tradition. Dès l’époque classique, les récits liés à Dionysos avaient contribué à construire et à diffuser l’image de Thèbes comme lieu fondateur de son culte en Grèce : assurément, les Bacchantes d’Euripide qui mettaient en scène l’arrivée du dieu à Thèbes et l’initiation forcée des femmes de la cité, embrigadées en trois thiases, ont eu un rôle important en fonction de leur large diffusion comme texte scolaire et comme pièce prisée du répertoire10. On aurait tort pour autant de voir dans cette tragédie le seul référent littéraire, le seul jalon de cette tradition discursive ; la littérature à sujet dionysiaque était très riche et d’autres textes, rédigés dans d’autres lieux et d’autres temps, pouvaient entrer dans l’imaginaire des associations dionysiaques. Il suffit de penser, à titre d’exemple, à l’Idylle XXVI de Théocrite, qui insiste dès les deux premiers vers sur le nombre « trois » : Ἰνὼ καὐτονόα χἀ μαλοπάραυος Ἀγαύα τρεῖς θιάσως ἐς ὄρος τρεῖς ἄγαγον αὐταὶ ἐοῖσαι.11 Inô, Autonoé et Agavé aux joues candides trois thiases conduisirent vers les monts et elles-mêmes étaient trois.

13 Trois thiases conduits « vers les monts » (ἐς ὄρος) par les trois sœurs, filles de Cadmos, qui préparent des offrandes et les déposent sur les autels, « comme l’enseignait Dionysos lui-même » (ὡς αὐτὸς ἐθυμάρει Διόνυσος)12. Ces femmes, telles qu’elles sont mises en scène, connaissent la volonté du dieu, la respectent et la transposent dans le déroulement du rituel13. Elles sont ainsi présentées comme les dépositaires de la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 251

tradition originelle qu’elles détiennent en ligne directe du dieu lui-même, leur parent. Elles sont donc le prototype de l’agent parfait de transmission légitime du rituel dionysiaque. En installant à Magnésie, pour les besoins de la fondation du culte de Dionysos, trois « Ménades thébaines de la race d’Inô la Cadméenne », les Magnètes, en suivant l’oracle delphique, s’assurent ainsi un lien rituel on ne peut plus légitime, du moins en référence à l’imaginaire généralement admis, à un consensus culturel tablant sur une koinè dionysiaque.

14 Le contenu de l’inscription de Magnésie n’est vraisemblablement qu’une fiction étiologique de la fondation du culte dionysiaque dans la cité14. Une telle mise en scène a cela de précieux qu’elle trahit la façon de concevoir in abstracto la transmission parfaite d’un ensemble de compétences, garanties par leur origine, nécessaires à la fondation d’un culte. On a là, en somme, la théorie, le cas idéal du transfert d’un ‘savoir religieux’ complet en toute légitimité, une sorte de ‘kit de savoir-faire dionysiaque’. Qu’en est-il alors dans la réalité ? À quelle « source » les associations dionysiaques, confrontées à ce même problème pratique de transmission de rites et de « bonnes traditions », vont- elles puiser pour forger leurs rites et leur vocabulaire cultuel ?

15 Étant donné les spécificités des documents qui portent témoignage des associations, c’est par l’examen des titres de fonctions rituelles des divers groupements dionysiaques que l’on peut espérer approcher les mécanismes de référence à l’œuvre dans l’institution des cultes associatifs15. Une liste des titulatures et fonctions, rencontrées dans les associations dionysiaques éphésiennes, permettra de dresser un premier tableau de la situation. Elles sont répertoriées ci-dessous selon un ordre chronologique et sous une forme « décontextualisée », au nominatif, et nominalisées16, afin de faciliter une perception globale de la question.

16 IEph 3329 8 (JACCOTTET no 135) Trajan (de Thyaira) θεασώτης Διονύσου | παλαιὸς γέρων 17 IEph 275 (JACCOTTET no 136) 119–129 de notre ère

ἱεροφάντης | ἀγονωθέτης 21 IEph 293 (JACCOTTET no 142) Commode Οἱ τοῦ προπάτορος θεοῦ Διονύσου Κορησείτου σακηφόροι μύσται φιλοσέβαστοι | ἱερεύς*

22 IEph 1267 (JACCOTTET no 134) fin du IIe siècle de notre ère ἱερεύς

23 Ce premier parcours des inscriptions dionysiaques éphésiennes surprend peut-être en nous faisant constater que les références explicites au monde dionysiaque sont rares dans les fonctions rituelles éphésiennes ; ce phénomène se remarque d’ailleurs de façon générale dans l’ensemble des associations dionysiaques, toutes régions et époques

Kernos, 27 | 2014 252

confondues. La tradition clairement exprimée dans l’instauration du culte dionysiaque à Magnésie ne transparaît ainsi que fort peu dans la réalité des fonctions associatives dionysiaques17. Nous relevons néanmoins à Éphèse un θυρσοφόρος / porte-thyrse et des βασσάραι / bacchantes thraces à la peau de renard. Ces deux titulatures à connotation bachique transparente proviennent d’un groupement dionysiaque d’époque hadrienne, connu par plusieurs inscriptions fragmentaires trouvées dans le théâtre, qui donnent la liste des participants aux sacrifices rassemblant plusieurs fois par an cette communauté 18. Les mêmes fonctions reviennent donc régulièrement, endossées parfois par des personnes différentes. Cette constatation permet de voir, dans les fonctions que nous pouvons relever, des cadres fixes en relation avec le rituel et non des titres attribués ad personam pour honorer tel ou tel individu de marque19.

24 Ces deux fonctions renvoient à une tradition bachique très largement partagée et répandue ; inutile d’insister sur le thyrse qui s’impose de façon flagrante tant dans les récits dionysiaques que dans les images et qui est une composante centrale de l’imaginaire bachique tout au long de l’Antiquité. Quant aux βασσάραι c’est par la tradition littéraire qu’elles nous sont connues. Nous savons, par exemple, qu’Eschyle avait écrit une tragédie portant ce titre et relatant vraisemblablement les mésaventures d’Orphée mis en pièce par ces bacchantes thraces20 ; en outre, au Ier ou au IIe siècle de notre ère, Dionysios, poète dont nous ne connaissons presque rien, fut l’auteur d’une œuvre appelée Bassarika21.

25 Dans ce contexte il ne peut être que frappant de constater que le titre de thyrsophore, tout évident qu’il soit dans une logique dionysiaque, n’apparaît dans aucune autre association dionysiaque connue à ce jour. En revanche, une autre inscription éphésienne22 mentionne la dédicace de thyrses par un hiérophante ; à nouveau, il s’agit de la seule dédicace de thyrses connue. Quant aux βασσάραι, on en trouve la trace indirecte à Apollonie du Pont avec la mention d’ἀρχιβασσάραι dans une inscription postérieure de plus d’un demi-siècle23, et dans le cosiddetto Thiase de Torre Nova (ou du Metropolitan Museum) qui compte deux ἀρχιβασσάροι, fort bien placés hiérarchiquement au sein des 26 fonctions que révèle cette association, postérieure elle aussi, au témoignage éphésien24. La rareté des références à l’univers dionysiaque communément diffusé et connu de tout un chacun est ainsi une donnée manifeste du monde associatif dionysiaque, et Éphèse, tout en entrant dans cette dynamique, se révèle peut-être un peu plus perméable à la tradition « imaginaire ».

26 Devrait-on citer, parmi les fonctions qui portent en elles une référence dionysiaque, les βουκόλοι, ou bouviers, qu’atteste ce même groupement qui se rassemblait périodiquement dans le théâtre ou à proximité immédiate ? Nous sommes là face à un cas particulier, face au développement d’une nouvelle fonction dionysiaque sur la base d’un substrat indépendant au départ : les βουκόλοι, liés de façon lâche et sporadique au monde dionysiaque durant plusieurs siècles, apparaissent comme une véritable fonction rituelle bachique à la fin du Ier siècle avant notre ère. Il n’est pas nécessaire d’expliciter ici l’imbroglio religieux, littéraire et imaginaire qui, d’un Dionysos taureau en passant par la marginalité des zones fréquentées tant par les bouviers que par les thiases bachiques et en prenant au passage toute la dimension idyllique du monde agro-pastoral a abouti à l’adéquation rituelle d’une fonction de bouviers avec le culte dionysiaque25. Il suffira de constater que de nombreux indices laissent penser que Pergame a été le lieu probable de l’invention de cette nouvelle fonction rituelle. C’est là que les bouviers sont devenus véritablement dionysiaques, qu’ils sont devenus une

Kernos, 27 | 2014 253

fonction rituelle nouvelle appelée à connaître un essor important dans le cadre associatif bachique. Si les bouviers dionysiaques apparaissent de façon certaine, quoiqu’indirecte par l’entremise du titre d’archiboukolos, à Pergame dès 27 avant notre ère avec deux autels parallèles dédiés par un certain Hérode (ἀρχιβουκόλος), l’un à Dionysos Καθηγεμῶν, dieu dynastique de Pergame, l’autre à Auguste26, il est intéressant de suivre la diffusion de cette fonction dans le temps et l’espace27. Prenons tout d’abord l’ensemble des témoignages de cette fonction liturgique (Fig. 1, légende donnée en note)28.

Figure 1

27 On perçoit aisément l’ancrage micrasiatique du titre, avec un développement sur la rive gauche du Pont-Euxin débordant légèrement en Thrace et Mésie. Quelques occurrences sortent de ce cadre, comme par exemple la fameuse association dite de Torre Nova, aux portes de Rome, vers 160 de notre ère, dont les racines mytiléniennes sont bien connues29 ; la reprise par l’aristocratie sénatoriale de Rome entre 376 et 385 de notre ère, du terme d’archibucolus, dans des inscriptions tauroboliques et à côté d’autres emprunts à des cultes divers, montre quant à elle que le titre avait acquis une renommée rituelle suffisante pour entrer dans ces constructions philosophico-piétistes mêlant les fonctions issues de divers cultes30. Une analyse chronologique différenciée des différents témoignages apporte une dimension supplémentaire. Une mise en scène visuelle sera plus parlante que tout commentaire (Fig. 2).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 254

Figure 2

28 Avec l’attestation à Éphèse de bouviers dans ce groupement cultuel d’époque hadrienne, la ville d’Artémis se présente comme la seconde, après Pergame, à adopter cette nouveauté rituelle, avant sa large diffusion à partir de la seconde moitié du IIe siècle. Hasard des découvertes ou rapprochement pertinent ? Nous pencherons pour la seconde hypothèse. Le lien entre les bouviers pergaméniens et ce groupement éphésien est d’autant plus manifeste que les deux entités semblent entretenir des liens très serrés avec le théâtre, trait qui ne s’impose absolument pas dans les autres attestations postérieures, autant que notre documentation nous permette d’en juger. À Pergame, au travers des huit inscriptions, qui s’étendent sur quelque 140 ans, entre 27 avant notre ère et l’époque d’Hadrien, nous voyons apparaître plusieurs fonctions liées à des exécutions scéniques. Dès la première moitié du Ier siècle de notre ère, les bouviers, terme qui donne son titre à l’association, comptent en leurs rangs un χορηγός31 ; puis, apparaît vers la fin du siècle un διαταξίαρχος sorte de metteur en scène32 ; les bouviers finissent par intégrer cette composante orchestique à leur titulature même, en devenant dès le début du IIe siècle, les χορεύσαντες βουκόλοι « les bouviers dansants »33. À cette époque, cette association de bouviers est placée sous l’égide directe du prêtre officiel de Dionysos à Pergame : intégrés aux célébrations triétériques de la cité pour Dionysos, ils célèbrent, par leur danses et autres manifestations « théâtrales » les « divins mystères » pergaméniens. Ces bouviers pergaméniens étaient ainsi une composante bien visible, en grande partie publique, de la vie cultuelle dionysiaque de la ville. C’est vraisemblablement cette visibilité, mise en scène dans le théâtre, qui a inspiré le groupement éphésien, dont les réunions se tenaient également dans le théâtre ou à proximité immédiate.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 255

29 Au travers de l’adoption par un groupe éphésien de la fonction de bouviers, on observe donc la diffusion directe, croyons-nous, d’une nouveauté rituelle d’une association à une autre, d’une ville à une autre. Ce transfert ne se fait pas selon un axe vertical de transmission de savoirs par la tradition, mais selon un axe horizontal, par émulation, émanant directement d’un partage d’expérience, dans une parfaite contemporanéité. On ne peut éviter de placer cette « contagion » dans le cadre plus large des rivalités qui ont animé dès le Ier siècle de notre ère les deux cités, placées en position de concurrence directe et constante pour l’obtention du statut très envié de ville néocore34. On remarquera, dans ce contexte, que les bouviers pergaméniens — les premiers bouviers dionysiaques — apparaissent dès Auguste dans une position très manifeste d’allégeance au pouvoir romain, avec la dédicace de l’autel à Auguste par l’ἀρχιβουκόλος. Et les associations éphésiennes, avec ou sans bouviers, ne sont pas en reste en ce qui concerne les honneurs rendus aux empereurs, comme en témoignent trois inscriptions dionysiaques de la ville : la première honore Trajan en lui accordant le titre de thiasote de Dionysos35 et la deuxième fait d’Hadrien le σύνθρονος du dieu36. Quant aux mystes de la dernière inscription, ils s’affichent en tant que φιλοσέβαστοι et honorent Commode37. Dans ce contexte d’émulation concurrentielle, ce n’est donc pas un hasard si c’est à Éphèse qu’apparaît le premier surgeon des bouviers pergaméniens.

30 S’il y a manifestement adoption d’une nouveauté rituelle dionysiaque créée ou développée à Pergame, on aimerait pouvoir préciser la nature et les contours de cette transmission, par émulation. Derrière le titre, quel contenu rituel est-il effectivement transmis ? A-t-on affaire à une imitation de façade ou à une adoption d’un concept rituel complet ? La nature des documents disponibles ne nous permet malheureusement pas d’aller plus loin que la constatation d’un même lien au théâtre. On relèvera néanmoins une différence notable : si les bouviers pergaméniens sont une association en tant que telle, le titre de bouvier n’apparaît qu’au singulier dans le groupement d’Éphèse, endossé à chaque réunion par un, éventuellement deux participants aux sacrifices. Ce passage, de Pergame à Éphèse, d’une dénomination collective qui donne son nom à l’association, à une fonction isolée au sein d’un groupe qui connaît d’autres fonctions sans que celles-ci ne lui soient subordonnées ne saurait pour autant croyons-nous représenter un argument pour réfuter la « filiation ». Cela dénote bien plus la souplesse de mise dans l’adoption, même directe, d’une titulature et de la fonction qui lui est liée.

31 Si l’on reprend la liste des fonctions révélées par les différents fragments du théâtre qui mettent en scène ces boukoloi38, on relève, à côté du thyrsophore et des βασσάραι déjà évoqués, la présence d’un prêtre (ἱερεύς), fonction dont la banalité ne nous dira rien des orientations cultuelles du groupe, mais aussi celle d’un joueur d’orgue hydraulique (ὑδραύλης) qui confirme la dimension « spectaculaire » voire théâtrale des manifestations cultuelles de ce groupe. Restent encore deux autres fonctions énigmatiques, sans parallèle ni dans les associations dionysiaques ni dans aucune manifestation cultuelle connue à ce jour : un ἐνθρόνιος — titre dont on ne sait s’il renvoie à un rite d’intronisation rituelle ou à une simple marque honorifique — et, apparaissant de façon récurrente dans les divers fragments, un ἱερολόγος, qui évoque un discours ou un récit sacré dont on aimerait pouvoir préciser la teneur et la fonction. On connaît des theologoi, mais le hierologos est un hapax dans la sphère cultuelle « païenne »39. Les textes, en revanche, témoignent de l’existence de hieroi logoi liés aux pratiques rituelles des cultes à mystères40. Hérodote emploie l’expression à plusieurs

Kernos, 27 | 2014 256

reprises dans son deuxième livre consacré à l’Égypte, autant pour définir des logoi égyptiens que des logoi dévoilés pendant des cérémonies du monde grec 41. Pausanias lui-même utilise l’expression au singulier pour indiquer un récit sacré concernant l’interdiction de se nourrir de fèves, pratique répandue chez les Phénéates dans l’initiation (τελετή) de Déméter42. Hérodote comme Pausanias se réfèrent vraisemblablement à des discours oraux, des récits « sacrés » dont il faut garder le secret en raison de leur contenu lié aux pratiques rituelles initiatiques43.

32 Une lecture maximaliste de cette fonction, à la fois comme signe de l’élaboration d’un hieros logos et de sa récitation rituelle dans une acception performative, pourrait se situer au point de convergence entre un savoir de type théorique et un savoir-faire de type rituel ; mais cela reste une hypothèse et une piste de réflexion.

33 Le cas de ce groupe sacrificiel éphésien est particulièrement intéressant pour l’étude de la constitution d’une entité rituelle et des présupposés qui en forment la base. On peut en effet décomposer les différentes fonctions constitutives du profil rituel de ce groupe en plusieurs types d’influence et de référents. Le thyrsophore et les βασσάραι nous entraînent du côté d’une influence littéraire ou, plus généralement, de l’adéquation à un modèle globalisé d’imaginaire dionysiaque. Le βουκόλος trahit l’assimilation en ligne directe d’un modèle nouveau, issu de la ville, proche et rivale, de Pergame et qui doit son adoption peut-être autant à des questions de prestige, voire de politique, qu’à un fondement strictement religieux. Le prêtre s’inscrit dans le modèle le plus général de la ritualité sacrificielle grecque. Quant au ἱερολόγος et à l’ἐνθρόνιος, ils dénotent une innovation originale, unique, à la fois indispensable et constitutive de l’identité rituelle propre à ce groupement si l’on en croit la permanence de ces fonctions au fil des documents.

34 Nous poursuivrons l’enquête en mettant en lumière les rapports et partages décelables entre les associations dionysiaques éphésiennes et les autres cultes de la ville. Si des interactions sont susceptibles d’être mises en avant entre différents groupes cultuels dédiés à des divinités différentes, il peut s’avérer pertinent de scruter les modalités de partage, d’échange ou au contraire de mise en avant des spécificités individuelles au moment d’une entrée en relation directe. Une inscription permet d’aborder cette question de la façon la plus concrète44. [ - - - - ]ς Τερεν[τ]ίας Αἰλι|ανῆς· ἱερατεύοντος | διὰ βίου τῶν πρὸ πόλε|ως Δημητριαστῶν | καὶ Διονύσου Φλέω μυ|στῶν Τίτου Αὐρηλίου | Πλουτάρχου, ἱεροφαν|[τ]οῦντος Πο. Κλαυδίου | [Α]ριστοφάνου, ἐπιμε|[λ]ητοῦ δὲ τῶν μυστη| [ρί]ων Σατορνείλου | [δὶ]ς τοὺ Ὀνήσωνος […] Terentia Aelianè ; Alors qu’était prêtre à vie des Démétriastes pro poleôs et des mystes de Dionysos Phleus T. Aurelius Ploutarkhès, qu’était hiérophante P. Claudius Aristophanès, qu’était épimélète des mystères Satorneilos, fils et petit fils d’Onèson.

35 Ce document atteste l’existence d’une association qui regroupe sous un même chapeau cultuel, ou du moins sous une même prêtrise, des Démétriastes et des mystes de Dionysos. Telle que l’inscription, malheureusement fragmentaire, la laisse apparaître, l’entité double est en effet placée sous l’autorité commune d’un prêtre, nommé à vie. Faut-il ne voir ici que l’attestation d’une prêtrise attribuée séparément mais conjointement par chacune des deux associations à ce T. Aurelius Ploutarkhès ? En d’autres termes, l’association des deux entités ne se fait-elle que par le hasard des circonstances ponctuelles autour et par la figure de ce Ploutarkhès, prêtre à la fois des Démétriastes et des mystes de Dionysos Phleus, par le bais d’un cumul souvent attesté de prêtrises ? Cette lectio facilior nous semble peu crédible au vu de la suite de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 257

l’inscription : deux autres fonctions sont mentionnées, celle d’hiérophante et celle d’épimélète des mystères, sans qu’il soit spécifié qu’elles ne concernent que l’une ou l’autre des associations et qui, en l’état de l’inscription, semblent se rapporter conjointement aux deux entités. Le caractère fragmentaire du document laisse il est vrai planer un dernier doute. Aurions-nous une inscription, honorifique par exemple, proposée soit par les Démétriastes, soit par les mystes de Dionysos Phleus, origine que le début perdu du texte rendrait claire, avec la mention de la double prêtrise de Ploutarkhès, par simple souci de donner à ce personnage tous ses titres ? On remarquera que le libellé des deux groupes prend une forme très unitaire ne serait-ce que par l’absence d’un τῶν devant le second groupe (Διονύσου Φλέω μυστῶν). Simple oubli du lapicide ? Ou formule allégée pour éviter toute redondance ? Si les deux entités étaient clairement distinctes et ne connaissaient de lien que par l’entremise de la double prêtrise de Ploutarkhès, et si donc l’inscription n’émanait que d’une seule de ces deux associations, les deux groupes nominaux auraient probablement été bien circonscrits chacun avec un déterminant marquant la césure et l’identité propre. On a bien plutôt l’impression que les deux groupes sont liés au point peut-être de partager une même qualification de pro poleôs, formule qui pourrait être une « mise en évidence » syntaxique tout comme le déterminant τῶν. Nous retiendrons donc la lectio difficilior qui consiste à voir dans cette inscripiton une attestation de la liaison fonctionnelle de deux associations dédiées à des divinités distinctes et liées incontestablement par un prêtre commun.

36 Se pose alors très directement, dans cette hypothèse de lecture, la question du partage du rituel et des traditions respectives des Démétriastes et des mystes dionysiaques. Doit-on imaginer que les rites mystériques évoqués par l’intermédiaire des fonctions de hiérophante et d’épimélète des mystères sont bel et bien les mêmes, pratiqués en commun par les mystes de Déméter et ceux de Dionysos ? Le libellé de l’inscription, qui donne un seul hiérophante et un seul épimélète, tout comme il ne donne qu’un seul prêtre à l’ensemble, pourrait orienter vers cette interprétation45. Mais on pourrait également envisager que le hiérophante et l’épimélète interviennent successivement dans des rites mystériques séparés dédiés spécifiquement à Déméter d’une part et de l’autre à Dionysos. Quoi qu’il en soit, dans les deux cas, c’est bien de la mise en commun d’un certain savoir religieux qu’il s’agit. Soit les rites mystériques des Démétriastes et des mystes de Dionysos sont harmonisés pour ne former qu’un seul ensemble rituel cohérent ; on aurait alors affaire à un partage des connaissances rituelles qui concerne la communauté associative dans son ensemble. Soit ce partage se situe au niveau des seuls responsables des cérémonies, le hiérophante et l’épimélète, qui eux cumuleraient les savoirs rituels des deux divinités et les proposeraient, de manière distincte et comme ‘étanche’, aux uns et aux autres. La transmission des savoirs rituels ne serait alors pas élargie à l’ensemble de la communauté, mais restreinte à des spécialistes, capables de décliner les rituels mystériques selon les coutumes des uns comme des autres.

37 Si l’on ne peut exclure aucune des deux hypothèses, la première, à savoir une mise en commun des rites des deux communautés, nous paraît plus vraisemblable. On constate en effet que l’association des Démétriastes, en tant qu’association indépendante, est active à Éphèse dès la première moitié du Ier siècle de notre ère, avec les honneurs rendus aux deux fils de Drusus le jeune46. Dès cette époque, ils se présentent comme des Démétriastes πρὸ πόλεως, dénomination qui reste ancrée dans l’identité du groupe

Kernos, 27 | 2014 258

jusqu’à la seconde moitié du IIe siècle avec le document qui les lie aux mystes de Dionysos. Quant à ces derniers, peut-être en avons-nous une trace, sous forme également indépendante, dans l’inscription qui mentionne des mystes πρὸ πόλεως de Dionysos (IEph 275, mentionné supra dans la liste). Certes le libellé ne précise pas que les rites se font pour honorer un Dionysos Φλεύς, et l’on connaît d’autre part la diffusion de ce qualificatif exprimant davantage la protection apportée par la divinité sur la cité que la localisation géographique du culte47. Mais la présence conjointe d’un hiérophante et d’un épimélète rapproche très directement ces mystes dionysiaques de l’association mixte de l’inscription qui nous occupe ici. Nous avons en effet proposé plus haut de considérer le πρὸ πόλεως comme qualifiant autant les Démétriastes que les mystes de Dionysos Φλεύς, dans une mise en évidence syntaxique. D’autre part, une autre inscription éphésienne du tout début du Ier siècle de notre ère montre la proximité effective des cultes de Dionysos Φλεύς et des déesses éleusiniennes48. [ἀγαθῇ] τύχῃ [ἐπὶ πρυτά]νεως Τι. Φλα. Περι- [γένου]ς ἀσιάρχου, ἱερατεύον- [τος δι]ὰ βίου τοῦ Φλέω Διονύ- 4 [σου Τ.] Βαρίου Νεικοστράτου, [θεῶν δ]ὲ Ἐλευσεινίων δ[ι]ὰ βί- [ου Γ. Λικ. ]Μαξίμου Ἰου[λιαν]οῦ, [ ------]ς Φλ. Κλε. . δ[ - - - - - 8 [------] . o .[ - - - - -

38 Chacun des cultes dispose de son propre prêtre et l’on ne saurait encore parler de fusion. Mais ce rapprochement entre le prêtre de Dionysos Phleus et celui des déesses éleusiniennes montre les affinités entre les deux cultes et rend plausible un développement vers une union des deux entités et une mise en commun des rites mystériques, dans un véritable travail sur le savoir rituel partagé.

39 Quel que soit le modèle de partage qui a prévalu, retenons la possibilité pour deux cultes clairement distincts à l’origine, comme celui de Déméter et de Dionysos, de se rapprocher au point peut-être de proposer une fusion des pratiques voire des traditions rituelles. Cela représente une autre possibilité de partage et de diffusion de spécificités rituelles qui vient s’ajouter à celles déjà définies, soit l’emprunt à un imaginaire largement diffusé, la reprise d’un vocabulaire fonctionnel de base issu des cultes publics (prêtre, hiérophante, épimélète…), l’adoption d’une ‘invention’ rituelle d’un groupement extérieur (βουκόλοι), ou encore la création de fonctions uniques et spécifiques pour les besoins particuliers d’un groupement précis, que ce soient des besoins proprement rituels ou plus largement honorifiques, l’un n’excluant pas l’autre naturellement.

Du langage associatif aux communautés chrétiennes : Ignace d’Antioche

40 Cette association regroupant des Démétriastes et des mystes de Dionysos, ouvre une autre perspective sur les moteurs des échanges, sur la dynamique des transmissions, et sur leur rapport précis et direct avec les rituels : il convient en effet de se demander si la diffusion à large échelle d’un vocabulaire mystérique « unifié » n’a pas favorisé ce rapprochement. On sait en effet que le terme de myste a connu un développement

Kernos, 27 | 2014 259

géographique fulgurant dès le Ier siècle de notre ère en Asie Mineure et sur la rive gauche du Pont-Euxin notamment ; cette propagation comme spontanée et contagieuse ne s’est pas faite sans une certaine banalisation du terme et donc de son référent cultuel49. Et l’on aurait tort d’en sous-estimer la composante sociale, élitaire, dirigée dans le sens d’une hiérarchisation de prestige des rites — et avant tout de leur dénomination —, comme de ceux qui les partagent et les promeuvent50. Si les termes s’éloignent donc d’une expérience rituelle précise et cernable, nous n’en assistons pas moins à l’établissement et à la diffusion d’une koinè mystérique — par le biais du vocabulaire tout au moins.

41 Cette constatation nous conduit à la prochaine étape de cette enquête, celle qui touche la reprise d’un vocabulaire et peut-être d’un savoir religieux par les auteurs chrétiens. Ce que nous appelons une koinè mystérique, comprise comme la large diffusion de quelques termes spécifiques (mystes, μυστήρια, hiérophante), et comme une globalisation de spécificités rituelles derrière un vocabulaire uniforme51, a eu un impact sur les premiers auteurs chrétiens : de nombreuses études ont montré qu’à partir de la fin du IIe siècle de notre ère, la terminologie des cultes à mystères est devenue courante pour définir la liturgie et la pratique rituelle des sectateurs de Jésus52. Des termes comme μυστήρια et, dans une moindre mesure, τελετή, ou bien encore l’adjectif μυστικός, se sont diffusés dans les ouvrages chrétiens ; ils définissent non seulement l’ensemble des rites ou des doctrines des sectateurs de Jésus, mais aussi des formes de culte plus spécifiques comme le baptême et l’eucharistie53. Le recours à des termes issus du vocabulaire mystérique par les auteurs chrétiens a-t-il été voulu pour créer une connivence, un réflexe culturel autant que cultuel autour des pratiques mystériques de façon à faire comprendre la foi nouvelle sur les bases d’un savoir communément partagé ? Ignace d’Antioche, l’un des premiers auteurs chrétiens dont nous avons connaissance, qui voyagea dans plusieurs cités d’Asie Mineure au début du IIe siècle de notre ère représente une base d’analyse privilégiée dans ce contexte.

42 Évêque de la ville d’Antioche entre 110 et 120 de notre ère, sous Trajan et Hadrien, Ignace fut arrêté par les autorités impériales et condamné au supplice dans l’amphithéâtre de Rome : nous ne connaissons pas les raisons qui ont conduit à cette condamnation, s’il s’agissait d’une persécution locale contre les chrétiens ou d’un conflit interne à la communauté chrétienne d’Antioche. Sur son chemin vers la capitale, Ignace s’arrêta dans plusieurs villes d’Asie Mineure et envoya des lettres aux communautés chrétiennes d’Éphèse, Magnésie, Tralles, Philadelphie, Smyrne et Rome54. Selon la plupart des chercheurs, ces lettres datent du début du IIe siècle de notre ère, plus précisément entre les années 110–120, soit au moins un demi-siècle avant que l’usage des termes mystériques ne devienne courant dans les textes chrétiens55.

43 C’est pendant son séjour à Smyrne qu’Ignace rédige la Lettre aux Éphésiens, à la suite de la visite de l’évêque d’Éphèse, Onésime, et de la délégation éphésienne. Ignace montre connaître les problèmes qui agitaient les sectateurs de Jésus dans la grande ville d’Artémis, les divisions et les conflits internes à l’église, et il exhorte les fidèles à se soumettre à l’autorité de l’évêque et à se garder des « chiens enragés » (κύνες λυσσῶντες) qui viennent d’ailleurs et éloignent les fidèles de la vérité56. Avant d’entrer dans le corps de la Lettre aux Éphésiens, il convient de rappeler que les communautés chrétiennes dont nous parle Ignace sont des petites communautés : dans une grande ville comme Éphèse, les chercheurs ont avancé l’hypothèse d’une centaine de chrétiens57.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 260

44 Les Lettres d’Ignace représentent, avec la Didachè et la Lettre de Clément aux Corinthiens, les premiers témoignages de la littérature chrétienne. Nous sommes là, donc, en pleine formation de l’identité (ou des identités) chrétienne(s), à un moment où le lexique chrétien est encore en voie de construction. Il suffit de rappeler qu’Ignace est l’un des premiers auteurs (avec celui de la Didachè) à utiliser le mot de « chrétiens » (χριστιανοί) pour définir les sectateurs de Jésus, un terme qui n’était pas présent dans les lettres de Paul58. Ignace est également le premier à utiliser l’expression « église catholique » (καθολικὴ ἐκκλησία) 59. Il est difficile d’envisager qu’un auteur chrétien, chef d’une communauté religieuse, qui voyage dans les villes d’Asie Mineure ne se trouve pas confronté, de manière directe ou indirecte, au monde des associations si profondément ancré dans les cités grecques. Le vocabulaire utilisé par Ignace met en évidence cette connaissance du monde cultuel d’Asie Mineure, comme l’étude de Philippe Harland l’a clairement montré60. On pourrait difficilement en effet attribuer la connaissance du langage associatif à la formation scolaire ou à la paideia de l’auteur chrétien, car il s’agit de termes qui appartiennent spécifiquement à un contexte cultuel.

45 Mais venons-en directement au texte de la Lettre aux Éphésiens et aux références au monde associatif grec de l’époque. Le premier souci d’Ignace est l’unité de l’église, de la communauté autour de son évêque, une unité qui sous-entend à la fois cohérence doctrinale et cohésion sociale. Il reconnaît la présence de « concorde » (ὁμόνοια) et d’« harmonie » (συμφωνία) au sein du groupe chrétien d’Éphèse, mais il sait bien que le conflit et la désagrégation sont toujours aux aguets. C’est pourquoi il adresse aux Éphésiens le souhait qu’ils puissent devenir un « chœur » (χορός) qui chante à « l’unisson » (ἐν φωνῇ μιᾷ) 61. Cette insistance sur l’unité dérive d’une réforme bien précise qu’Ignace a introduite dans les communautés chrétiennes de l’époque. À la différence de Paul, l’évêque d’Antioche propose — et c’est le premier à le faire — une église organisée d’un point de vue hiérarchique, avec trois niveaux et trois fonctions : 1. l’évêque ; 2. les presbytres ; 3. les diacres62. Cette « réforme » d’Ignace déclencha plusieurs réactions négatives et les conflits internes aux églises qui transparaissent dans les lettres dont nous disposons sont le résultat du nouveau rôle de l’évêque dans la communauté chrétienne.

46 C’est dans cette perspective que nous pouvons lire l’exhortation d’Ignace, adressée aux Éphésiens, à former une procession qui fait écho aux associations : Vous êtes donc tous membres de l’assemblée (σύνοδοι), porteur de Dieu (θεοφόροι) et porteurs du temple (ναοφόροι), porteurs du Christ (χριστοφόροι), porteurs du sacré (ἁγιοφόροι), ornés en toute chose des prescriptions de Jésus-Christ63. 47 Ignace imagine une procession chrétienne dont les fonctions sont calquées sur les associations qui existaient dans les cités grecques d’Asie Mineure : en effet, les substantifs en -phoros étaient très courants dans le vocabulaire associatif, tout comme dans les processions civiques qui connaissaient ce type d’agents rituels. Mais les références maniées par Ignace ne sauraient se satisfaire de ce premier niveau de lecture. La religion des chrétiens se configure, dans son texte, comme un culte à mystères : l’auteur la définit explicitement comme μυστήρια, employant justement le pluriel répandu dans les cultes à mystères des mondes grec et romain et non, comme Paul, le singulier μυστήριον64. Ignace joue clairement sur les mots et sur les concepts mystériques. Le parallélisme avec les associations mystériques est d’autant plus frappant que l’auteur utilise également le terme συμμύσται Παύλου pour définir les chrétiens :

Kernos, 27 | 2014 261

Vous êtes le passage (πάροδος) pour ceux qui sont morts pour Dieu, vous êtes les compagnons-mystes de Paul (συμμύσται Παύλου) le saint, qui a eu le témoignage et est digne d’être appelé bienheureux65.

48 Συμμύσται est un terme technique du langage des cultes à mystères qui n’est quasiment pas attesté dans les sources littéraires66. En outre, ce terme renvoie de façon particulière à la sphère rituelle dionysiaque : non seulement on le trouve attesté, à plusieurs reprises, dans les inscriptions des associations dionysiaques67, mais encore et surtout, sur le plan plus profond des concepts rituels, c’est à travers cette notion réciproque que l’on construit et exprime un rapport fort et à double sens, entre les membres de la communauté d’une part et entre le dévot et son dieu de l’autre. Car l’expérience rituelle bachique et le mode de présence du dieu face à ceux qui l’honorent donnent tout son sens, son double sens, au préfixe συμ- ; par le fait que le dieu a été, lui aussi, initié et à ses propres mystères, il est le compagnon d’initiation des mystes humains, comme ceux-ci le sont du dieu et comme ils le sont ensemble au sein de l’association qui les rassemble. Ce rapport particulier établi entre la divinité et les hommes, par le partage du rite d’initiation, pouvait d’autre part évoquer, dans une optique chrétienne, le lien particulier entre les chrétiens et Jésus, par le partage du baptême, tout autant que renvoyer à la communauté des hommes, unis par une même expérience rituelle et suivant l’exemple de Paul, le converti68.

49 Si cette utilisation du concept de συμμύσται par Ignace peut évoquer une expérience initiatique et communautaire particulière, teintée de références dionysiaques, un second registre référentiel lie le vocabulaire d’Ignace à la sphère du dieu : le recours au langage théâtral. On a déjà rappelé l’exhortation à former un chœur adressée aux chrétiens d’Éphèse. L’usage du terme πάροδος, pour définir les chrétiens dans l’exemple cité, n’est sans doute pas innocent non plus. De plus, juste avant le passage évoquant la procession chrétienne, ouvert non par hasard par le terme de σύνοδοι — dont on sait l’usage ‘œcuménique’ pour désigner les guildes d’acteurs professionnels —, Ignace utilise une métaphore liée aux mises en scène du théâtre : il affirme que les chrétiens sont les pierres du temple du Père, préparés pour la construction de Dieu le Père, soulevés en haut par la grue (μηχανή) de Jésus-Christ, qui est la croix, en utilisant le Saint Esprit comme un câble69.

50 En faisant de Jésus la μηχανή, la grue, indispensable à la construction de l’Église chrétienne, Ignace ne pense-t-il qu’à une simple métaphore du domaine de la construction ? N’a-t-il pas en vue, avec la μηχανή, l’outil théâtral qui permettait de déplacer les acteurs en les faisant monter au-dessus de la skènè, de leur faire ainsi dépasser leur limites humaines comme il siérait dans une métaphore appliquée à la construction de l’Église chrétienne ? Cela reste hypothétique. Mais on notera que dans la littérature chrétienne en langue grecque, le langage métaphorique du théâtre sera bien présent, quel que soit le discrédit jeté sur les spectacles : Clément d’Alexandrie, dans son Protreptique aux Hellènes, après avoir pourtant condamné les concours des Lénées, qui sont le lieu de l’ivresse et de la folie en l’honneur de Dionysos, ne renonce pas pour autant à la thématique du théâtre. C’est qu’il ne veut pas laisser aux seuls païens la possibilité d’exploiter les ressources métaphoriques et allégoriques des spectacles70. Aux concours du monde gréco-romain le texte oppose alors de nouveaux concours chrétiens, parce que le Christ est « le Logos céleste, qui, dans le véritable

Kernos, 27 | 2014 262

concours, reçoit la couronne sur la scène de l’univers » (λόγος οὐράνιος, ὁ γνήσιος, ἀγωνιστὴς ἐπὶ τῷ παντὸς κόσμου θεάτρῳ στεφανούμενος)71.

51 Étant donné qu’Ignace n’avait pas d’exempla littéraires chrétiens à suivre dans cette reprise métaphorique et que d’autre part nous ignorons sa formation scolaire et son éventuelle connaissance des textes classiques qui reprenaient ce type de langage, il est tout à fait envisageable que cet usage vienne d’ailleurs, des pratiques associatives et mystériques en général et, en particulier, du monde dionysiaque d’Asie Mineure. Ignace était à Smyrne, lors de la rédaction de la Lettre aux Éphésiens, cité où les inscriptions témoignent de l’existence d’associations dionysiaques au sein desquelles initiés et acteurs cohabitaient72. Nous pourrions avancer l’hypothèse que la présence de l’aspect théâtral et de l’aspect mystérique dans le texte d’Ignace dérive aussi de l’observation directe d’une expérience associative qu’il pouvait connaître73.

52 Un certain ‘savoir partagé’ dont nous voyons les racines notamment dans les associations dionysiaques devient le modèle à travers lequel construire la représentation de la communauté chrétienne. Nous avons, chez Ignace, tout d’abord un besoin de constituer un vocabulaire, une nécessité linguistique qui trouvait réponse dans les formes cultuelles que l’auteur avait connues à la fois directement — au cours de son voyage vers Rome — et indirectement — grâce aux témoignages des délégations qui lui avaient rendu visite. Mais la récupération du langage associatif trouve aussi une autre explication, interne aux problèmes des communautés chrétiennes de la première moitié du IIe siècle de notre ère. Nous avons fait référence à la réforme des églises proposée par Ignace et au rôle nouveau que l’auteur chrétien souhaite donner à l’évêque. Dans cette perspective, représenter les chrétiens selon le modèle associatif, en les définissant par les termes de συμμύσται, σύνοδοι, θεοφόροι, ναοφόροι, χριστοφόροι et ἁγιοφόροι, comme s’ils étaient les membres d’une association dotée de ses charges et ses titres, pourrait être interprété aussi comme un moyen de promouvoir sa propre réforme des églises. Ignace s’inspire du modèle des associations qui existaient dans le monde des cités d’Asie Mineure et, sans doute notamment du modèle dionysiaque, afin de transmettre implicitement une image structurée et hiérarchisée, telle que celle qu’il cherchait à imposer au sein des communautés chrétiennes. L’opération d’Ignace sur le langage associatif dévoile un aspect de la formation de l’identité chrétienne qui essaie de s’enraciner dans le vocabulaire local des cités d’Asie Mineure, d’autant plus que la lecture de ses Lettres révèle des situations locales différentes les unes des autres 74. Les termes rituels relevant du contexte initiatique choisis par un auteur chrétien comme Ignace d’Antioche pour s’adresser à la communauté de sectateurs de Jésus à Éphèse témoignent ainsi d’une complicité basée sur un ‘savoir religieux’ partagé, un savoir qui se manifeste comme la reprise d’un substrat général répandu dans les cités d’Asie Mineure et plus particulièrement à Éphèse. Ce phénomène de reprise induit une certaine perméabilité, au moins métaphorique, du vocabulaire cultuel laissant deviner une empreinte culturelle à large échelle, base d’un consensus utilisable pour faire entendre un message nouveau.

Le hiérophante public d’Éphèse ou la reconnaissance d’un spécialiste en compétences rituelles

53 Les deux dossiers convoqués jusqu’ici nous ont permis d’aborder, par un biais forcément partiel mais concret, la question de la transmission des savoirs ou des

Kernos, 27 | 2014 263

références en matière cultuelle à des échelles différentes et dans des contextes bien distincts. Les associations dionysiaques posent la question des référents à l’œuvre dans la création d’un culte pensé comme ciment d’une communauté de peu d’ampleur, dont le rôle public ou officiel n’est pas le principal moteur mais dont les contours généraux entrent en résonnance consensuelle avec les coutumes rituelles de la société dans laquelle ces microcosmes prennent pied. Si l’on ne peut parler d’officialité lorsqu’il est question d’une congrégation chrétienne du début du IIe siècle, les propos d’Ignace, bien qu’adressés aux Éphésiens, ont comme objectif l’organisation d’une structure qui dépasse le cadre local et vise l’universalité, bien que s’inscrivant à contre-courant des traditions cultuelles reconnues publiquement, ou peut-être à cause de cette non conformité au modèle ambiant. Un dernier dossier permettra d’ouvrir la réflexion sur la reconnaissance et la transmission de compétences rituelles au sein même de la pratique des cultes publics et officiels de la cité d’Éphèse, autre volet, parfaitement complémentaire, de la question.

54 Il s’agit d’une inscription éphésienne du IIIe siècle de notre ère, un règlement « sacrificiel »75 dont le contenu pourrait correspondre à une réalité rituelle plus ancienne si l’on en croit l’intitulé même du texte annoncé comme « le résumé de la loi ancestrale » (κεφάλαιον νόμου πατρίου)76. Ne fixant que dans les grandes lignes les directives proprement rituelles, le texte rappelle globalement les devoirs sacrés du prytane, le nombre de sacrifices qu’il doit accomplir (365) et donc payer de ses deniers (ἐξ οἰκείας δυνάμεως l. 9–10). Suit alors la mention qui retiendra notre attention ici (l. 10–12) : ... περιηγουμένου καὶ διδάσκοντος | αὐτὸν τοῦ δημοτελοῦς ἱεροφάντου καθό|τι ἕκαστον τοῖς θεοῖς νόμιμόν ἐστιν. le hiérophante public lui donnant les explications et l’enseignement sur la manière de s’y prendre selon ce qui est, dans chaque cas, la tradition pour les dieux.

55 Cette précision est capitale : nous y voyons clairement apparaître la séparation des fonctions entre celui qui fait et celui qui sait et sait faire, en matière rituelle. Le prytane, nouveau chaque année, accomplit le devoir religieux que sa charge implique, au nom de la cité, sans maîtriser la complexité des coutumes à observer dans chaque cas de figure, selon le dieu et l’occasion. Le savoir rituel est détenu par le hiérophante public : par sa permanence, il assure la transmission des νόμιμαd’un prytane à l’autre, d’une année à l’autre. Et ce savoir se transmet par des explications — périégèse — une façon de « faire le tour » de la question, en expliquant mais aussi sans doute en transmettant les récits, les formules, le hieros logos qui sous-tend le rite, particulier à chaque occasion. À cette périégèse s’ajoute un enseignement (διδάσκοντος), insistant sur la transmission de ce savoir rituel, sur la formation théorique et pratique à laquelle doit se soumettre le prytane, sous la direction du hiérophante, pour effectuer sans faux pas les rites qu’exige sa fonction de représentant de la cité. Cette fonction et cette autorité reconnue du hiérophante sont soulignées une seconde fois dans la même inscription, au moment d’évoquer la répartition des γέρα entre les différents officiants ou dignitaires (l. 18–22). διδόναι δὲ γέρα τὸν πρύτανιν τῷ ἱεροφάν|τῃ παντὸς ἱερείου τοῦ τυθέντος τοῖς θε| οῖς κεφαλὴν καὶ γλῶσσαν καὶ δέρμα διὰ τὴν | ἐνπειρίαν καὶ τὸ μέγεθος αὐτοῦ τῆς ὑπαιρεσί|ας Que le prytane donne au hiérophante lors de tout sacrifice offert aux dieux la tête, la langue et la peau à cause de son expérience et de la grandeur de son service.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 264

56 C’est bien par et pour son ἐνπειρία (sic), son expérience, son savoir et en particulier son savoir-faire que le hiérophante est gratifié, pour chaque victime sacrifiée, de parts de choix (tête, langue, peau). La reconnaissance de son savoir fondamental au bon déroulement des rites officiels s’exprime à la fois verbalement et matériellement en termes de parts dévolues. Nous voyons ainsi de l’intérieur le fonctionnement religieux d’une cité, Éphèse en l’occurrence. Maîtrise rituelle et fonction représentative sont distinctes, mais parfaitement complémentaires, pour assurer le salut de la communauté dans son ensemble. Cet état de fait reflète-t-il une réalité fonctionnelle valable au-delà du cas particulier d’Éphèse ? C’est ce que laisse supposer un passage de Denys d’Halicarnasse relatif à la dernière partie du règlement (διάταξις) attribué à Numa, consacrée au rôle des pontifices à Rome77 : Ils [les pontifices] établissent des règles pour tous les rites qui, n’étant pas encore fixés par écrit ni consacrés par l’usage, leur semblent réclamer l’appui de lois et de coutumes. Ils contrôlent les fonctions de tous les magistrats auxquels incombe un sacrifice ou un service du culte, et celles de tous les prêtres. Ils veillent à ce que les serviteurs et les ministres qu’ils utilisent pour l’accomplissement des rites ne commettent aucune faute à l’égard des lois sacrées. […] Par conséquent, qu’on veuille les appeler hierodidaskaloi, hieronomoi, hierophylakes ou — ce qui nous semble préférable — hierophantai, on ne s’écartera pas de la vérité78.

57 Le domaine d’action et de compétences reconnu aux pontifes romains, tel qu’il est ici traduit en termes et concepts grecs, se situe bel et bien entre l’enseignement, l’édification des lois rituelles ou leur conservation, ou encore la surveillance de l’application pratique des préceptes rituels — une amplitude fonctionnelle vaste, mais cohérente. Si les trois premiers termes envisagés pour ‘traduire’ cette vaste fonctionnalité, renvoient à des fonctions explicites — l’enseignement (ἱεροδιδάσκαλοι), la mise sur pied des lois (ἱερονόμοι) et leur conservation (ἱεροφύλακες) —, le dernier (ἱεροφάνται), qui emporte l’adhésion de Denys et dont il se servira couramment pour désigner les pontifices, est plus général, plus englobant, renvoyant à l’expression ou à l’explication des choses sacrées. Comme dans le texte de l’inscription éphésienne, nous voyons à l’œuvre la complémentarité parfaite entre compétence rituelle et représentativité officielle, qui suit le principe de milice, soit la non professionnalisation des tâches effectuées au nom et pour l’État, très généralement de mise tant dans les cités grecques qu’à Rome. L’intervention d’un spécialiste des coutumes religieuses, du savoir et savoir-faire rituels permet et garantit la tenue des sacrifices ‘dans les normes’ respectant les particularités propres à chaque occasion, à chaque divinité, à chaque type de sacrifice et formant le pont de tradition par-delà la succession des magistrats inexpérimentés en la matière. C’est bien cette idée de pont que reprend Denys, comme d’autres, comme explication étymologique du terme de pontifex ; idée suffisamment forte pour qu’il l’exprime en tête de chapitre et l’impose malgré le manque d’évidence, pour un lecteur grec, entre γέφυρα grec et pons latin. Le lien et le poids de cette explication sont donc plus dans le concept que dans le terme. Et si Denys s’en tient dans le texte à « l’entretien du pont de bois » (l’archaïque pont Sublicius) pour ancrer cette étymologie, rien n’empêche de penser qu’il songe plus largement à l’idée de transmission de la tradition, de pont de rites et de coutumes, que la suite du texte développe de manière flagrante.

58 L’inscription éphésienne consacrant les compétences rituelles du hiérophante et sa mise en parallèle avec le texte de Denys permettent-elles d’envisager la présence d’un spécialiste de la transmission rituelle dans d’autres cités qu’Éphèse ? En d’autres

Kernos, 27 | 2014 265

termes, avons-nous avec cette inscription éphésienne un cas particulier ou au contraire l’expression unique dans notre documentation d’un phénomène généralisé non exprimé usuellement ? L’hésitation de Denys sur le terme approprié, au moment de traduire, non le mot mais l’amplitude de fonctions des pontifices, souligne bien l’absence de parallèle fonctionnel direct et complet dans la tradition grecque. Le morcellement, dans le monde grec, des traditions religieuses en autant d’entités distinctes que de cités y est sans doute pour quelque chose. Si la question mérite d’être posée, l’absence de témoignages antiques sur le sujet empêche tout développement fondé et la chaîne d’interrogations suscitées par cette aporie nous entraînerait trop loin et sur un terrain trop incertain79.

Du hiérophante public d’Éphèse à la lettre d’Ignace d’Antioche : savoirs partagés entre référence cultuelle et culturelle

59 Les trois dossiers examinés ici offrent chacun à leur manière un point d’ancrage concret à la question de la transmission des compétences et des savoirs en matière rituelle posée en exergue à cette étude. Peut-on dès lors, malgré le caractère fort partiel voire disparate des remarques qui ont pu être faites, oser une synthèse, risquer des formules généralisantes ? Au vu de l’ampleur et des ramifications multiples de la thématique nous ne saurions faire le tour du sujet, loin s’en faut, ni répondre à des questions insolubles en l’état de notre documentation. Plutôt que de refermer le propos sur des conclusions, nous souhaiterions proposer quelques réflexions, forcément partielles, mais susceptibles d’ouvrir le débat et de susciter d’autres perspectives d’analyse.

60 Le règlement sacrificiel éphésien qui révèle et justifie tout à la fois le rôle clé du hiérophante dans la transmission des bonnes coutumes en matière de pratique rituelle nous servira de référent, d’horizon réflexif et de faire-valoir, en creux ou en relief, des quelques cas de figure rencontrés dans ce parcours. La séparation claire opérée, dans les rites publics, entre la compétence rituelle du hiérophante et la représentativité du prytane nous conduit en effet à quelques réflexions sur les modalités de fonctionnement d’une communauté cultuelle. Nous remarquons que la transmission d’un savoir et savoir-faire religieux spécifique est confiée à une personne, et non à des documents écrits, « lois sacrées » ou autres, auxquels on renverrait. Il est d’ailleurs significatif de constater que le « règlement sacrificiel » qui précise ces dispositions, document écrit de référence, ne contient justement pas les prescriptions rituelles, mais seulement la répartition des tâches. Le savoir religieux, rituel, se transmet par l’oral, non par l’écrit. L’autorité en matière religieuse est une personne à laquelle on reconnaît un savoir, une connaissance des traditions, non un texte, une loi fixée par l’écrit80. On peut y voir plusieurs raisons. Outre la multiplicité des situations à expliciter qui déboucherait immanquablement sur un document de référence extrêmement volumineux et complexe, on retiendra deux aspects. La référence à une personne insiste sur le côté humain des rites. L’autorité religieuse vient d’abord de celui qui connaît les rites, non d’un référent divin direct. Si l’oracle est consulté, et peut ainsi faire office de référent divin direct, ce sera avant tout pour légitimer des rites proposés par les hommes, auxquels le dieu donnera ou non son aval. D’autre part, le savoir nécessaire à la tenue ‘sans bavure’ des rites est avant tout un savoir-faire, une pratique,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 266

le bon geste, la bonne gestion de l’espace, la bonne temporalité dans le rite, la bonne formule prononcée en temps requis — autant de dimensions qui échappent à toute mise par écrit et à toute diffusion en dehors de l’expérience pratique, visuelle et même émotionnelle, ou sensorielle.

61 Le hiérophante transmet donc, par-delà la succession des prytanes annuels, une pratique fiable. Il est bien ainsi un passeur de tradition, un bâtisseur de ponts, une garantie pour la communauté dans son ensemble que les rites seront efficaces et lui assureront sa sauvegarde. Nous ne sommes ainsi pas très loin du modèle théorique et fictionnel de l’oracle de Magnésie, avec la nécessité de recourir à une autorité reconnue pour asseoir un culte nouveau, dont l’oubli menace la communauté. Dans le cas de Magnésie, la légitimité viendra certes non du dedans mais du dehors, avec la référence au berceau thébain et Cadméen du culte dionysiaque. Mais le processus fictionnel de Magnésie est en parfaite adéquation avec la procédure bien réelle d’Éphèse ; c’est à des personnes et non à des règlements qu’est confiée la transmission du savoir et du savoir- faire nécessaires. Au travers de ces deux cas de figure, c’est bien la même conception qui est exprimée, celle la transmission de génération en génération — donc à dimension humaine — de traditions ‘sanctifiées’ par le temps et l’origine ancestrale : c’est ce que nous appelons une transmission verticale des savoirs.

62 Mais dans un même temps, ce recours à la tradition, comme clef de légitimation, repose justement, par sa dimension humaine et orale, sur le discours. L’oralité de la transmission permet une double manœuvre : elle ouvre la voie à une certaine plasticité des rituels et à leur adaptation en douceur à l’évolution de la société et de ses besoins, et elle articule à ces potentielles nouveautés un discours légitimant basé sur le recours à la tradition, orale et bien humaine, autre manière de bâtir des ponts ou du moins de les entretenir81.

63 L’étude du dossier restreint des associations dionysiaques éphésiennes n’offre pas de parallèle à cette transmission verticale des savoirs ou savoir-faire. La nature des documents exploités et le seul recours possible aux titres de fonctions rituelles sont peut-être des raisons à cette absence ; et l’on peut se demander également dans quelle mesure le caractère non officiel des rites associatifs, le fait qu’ils ne soient pas effectués à proprement parler pour la communauté entière, ne rendent pas inutile ou moins nécessaire le recours à une autorité reconnue et légitimante. Cette séparation de rites entre sphère ‘publique’ et ‘privée’ qui s’impose à nos esprits modernes, risque toutefois d’occulter une réalité bien plus perméable dans la réalité antique. Combien d’associations ne sont-elles en effet pas mises à contribution et intégrées dans les pratiques ‘officielles’ des rites des diverses cités82 ? Combien ne choisissent-elles pas d’intégrer le modèle d’autoreprésentation de la cité83 ? La bonne marche d’une cité ne se mesure pas ainsi à l’aune de l’orthopraxie des seuls rites officiels mais englobe toutes les manifestations rituelles de quelque envergure et visibilité publiques directes qu’elles soient. L’exemple théorique donné par l’oracle rendu aux Magnètes atteste bien la complémentarité du culte public, représenté par la construction d’un temple et l’installation d’un prêtre, et des thiases, établis par les trois Ménades importées de Thèbes et fonctionnant en microcosmes indépendants.

64 Quoi qu’il en soit, et si cette transmission d’une tradition ‘verticale’ n’est pas perceptible dans les documents associatifs analysés, c’est à une autre dimension de la transmission que nous rend attentifs le dossier éphésien. Devant la nécessité et en même temps la liberté de créer un culte, point focal et rassembleur de ces microcosmes

Kernos, 27 | 2014 267

sociétaux, les différents dionysiastes éphésiens ont opté pour des solutions variées et complémentaires : innovations créées pour répondre aux besoins précis de tel ou tel groupe, emprunts d’un groupe à un autre, d’une ville à une autre ou fusions de rites entre communautés vouées à des divinités différentes, sans négliger l’utilisation d’un vocabulaire globalisé formant une koinè, que ce soit au niveau des fonctions rituelles de base et « neutres », comme celle de prêtre, ou sur le plan de l’adéquation au vocabulaire mystérique « à la mode ». L’ensemble de ces démarches s’apparente davantage à ce que nous appelons une diffusion horizontale des savoirs ; laquelle repose sur des motivations variées, comme la concurrence, entre associations dionysiaques d’une même ville ou de villes rivales, le prestige de tels ou tels titres, la recherche de hiérarchisation des élites associatives ou encore les besoins véritablement rituels d’une fonction liturgique précise en adéquation avec l’orientation cultuelle choisie par le groupement. Cette diffusion s’opère sans recours à une quelconque profondeur temporelle et traditionnelle comme justificatif, mais repose simplement sur un savoir contemporain, accessible à tout un chacun et largement diffusé.

65 C’est cette circulation horizontale et synchronique dont rend compte encore Ignace d’Antioche, prouvant par là même la publicité, dans son sens premier, des manifestations associatives et des référents qui servent de socle aux rituels des uns comme des autres. C’est sur cette connaissance partagée de certaines réalités rituelles largement diffusées que l’auteur chrétien ancrera un discours neuf, entrant dans le langage commun pour exprimer des liens nouveaux autant entre adeptes chrétiens qu’entre hommes et Dieu, autre dialogue entre horizontalité et verticalité.

66 Doit-on dès lors considérer cet usage chrétien du vocabulaire et des concepts associatifs comme une référence cultuelle ou culturelle ? La question se pose dans les mêmes termes pour ce qui est des transmissions ‘horizontales’ au sein des associations. La publicité des rites ou du moins de certains d’entre eux, brise d’elle-même cette catégorisation moderne. En étant largement connus de tous, certains rites passent automatiquement du cultuel au culturel. Le rite est une référence culturelle dans son essence, un point de consensus dont l’oralité de la transmission garantit l’adaptation harmonieuse aux besoins toujours actuels. Les seules références que l’on pourrait qualifier de véritablement culturelles, celles qui font allusion aux récits concernant l’installation de Dionysos et de son culte, à Thèbes comme matrice cultuelle, ou aux grands poncifs bachiques dont sont nourris tant les textes que les images (thyrse, nébride etc.), se révèlent très marginales et ne font pas recette dans les fonctions rituelles. Doit-on s’en étonner ? La dimension événementielle du savoir religieux, fondée sur un savoir-faire pratique n’a que faire en fin de compte de références « culturelles » ; dans un savoir religieux en action, c’est le rite effectif qui devient lui- même référence culturelle.

NOTES

*. Une première version de cette étude a été présentée en septembre 2012 dans le cadre du 6 e atelier Chicago-Paris sur les religions anciennes, consacré au thème « Les savoirs religieux —

Kernos, 27 | 2014 268

Religious Knowledge » (24–25 septembre 2012 INHA, Paris). Que les organisateurs trouvent ici l’expression de notre reconnaissance. Francesco Massa a réalisé ce travail dans le cadre du laboratoire d’excellente LabexMed portant la référence 10-LABX-0090 et a bénéficié d’une aide de l’État français gérée par l’ANR au titre du projet investissements d’Avenir A*MIDEX portant la référence no ANR-11-IDEX-0001-02. 1. STAVRIANOPOULOU (2006 a et b), BRULÉ (2009), HEKSTER, SCHMIDT-HOFNER, WITSCHEL (2009), CABOURET, CHARLES-LAFORGE (2010), SCHEID (2010), CHANIOTIS (2011), BRICAULT, BONNET (2013 a), BELAYCHE (2013). Les études concernant le rôle de l’écriture dans le fonctionnement des pratiques rituelles des mondes grec et romain éclairent elles aussi la question, voir GORDON (1990), SCHEID (1994), NORTH (1998) HENRICHS (2003), BELAYCHE, MASSA (2013). Sur le concept de « mutations religieuses » cf. PIRENNE- DELFORGE, SCHEID (2013) avec la nécessaire distinction entre degré et nature de la différence (p. 313) et la reconnaissance de changements qui affectent le religieux parce qu’ils sont simplement le reflet d’un « changement culturel général » (p. 312) ; sur l’historiographie de ces « mutations religieuses », voir BRICAULT, BONNET (2013 b). 2. JACCOTTET (2003), I, p. 54–58, 200–201 et passim, JACCOTTET (2006). 3. Par exemple KERN (1900) n o 215 ; MERKELBACH, STAUBER (1998), I, n o 02/01/02, p. 187–191, JACCOTTET (2003), II, no 146, p. 244–247, JACCOTTET (2005), p. 192–193. 4. L’oracle a-t-il été effectivement rendu par Delphes ou n’est-il qu’une fiction, une composition de circonstance visant à soutenir la politique magnète à un moment précis de son histoire ? POMTOW (1896), part. p. 754–756 a été le premier à voir l’oracle comme un faux et à proposer une lecture des circonstances historiques qui expliquent le recours fictif à l’autorité delphique (demande d’asylie de Magnésie), plaçant cette inscription sur le même pied que le texte connu sous le titre de κτίσις Μαγνησίας et proposant une version de l’origine de la ville suscpetible de soutenir la demande d’asylie de la cité (I. Magn. 17, FGrH 482 F 3). HENRICHS (1978), p. 124–130 en revanche plaide pour l’authenticité du texte et donc de l’oracle qu’il situe, sur des critères linguistiques et historiques entre 278 et 250 av. notre ère, alors que le texte de l’inscription originale (copiée par Apollonios au IIe siècle de notre ère) serait postérieur à 207/6 av. notre ère. Pour notre part, nous nous rallions aux arguments mettant en doute l’authenticité de l’oracle ; la datation du texte à la fin du IIIe siècle avant notre ère pour l’inscription copiée par Apollonios à l’époque d’Hadrien peut être maintenue sans pour autant induire une quelconque authenticité de l’oracle lui-même. Pour un aperçu historiographique des commentaires suscités par l’inscription, cf. HENRICHS (1978), p. 124–125, n. 7. Plus récemment, cf. KNOEPFLER (1989), p. 57 et passim, JACCOTTET (2003), I, p. 77–78, 134, II, p. 244–247. 5. On notera que le texte de l’oracle ne mentionne pas le nombre de femmes concernées. C’est la suite de l’inscription, qui manifeste l’obéissance des délégués aux prescriptions apolliniennes, qui spécifie que trois ménades ont été prises à Thèbes. Chiffre significatif s’il en est dans cette tradition thébaine du culte dionysiaque. 6. MOTTE, PIRENNE-DELFORGE (1992) ; SCHUDDEBOOM (2009), p. 229, no 61 répertorie l’emploi d’ὄργια dans cette inscription sous sa rubrique “Dionysiac rites” (p. 227–230) et non sous celle de “Cult objects” (p. 237), qui ne contient que l’épigramme funéraire de la prêtresse Alcméonis de Milet (PEEK (1980) 1344 ; MERKELBACH, STAUBER (1998) n o 01/20/21, p. 138, JACCOTTET (2003), II, n o 149, p. 250–251, I, p. 74–77, 133–134). La présence d’un verbe tel que “porter”, comme dans le cas de cette épigramme, rend manifeste le sens concret et matériel des ὄργια ; on aurait tort pour autant, croyons-nous, de restreindre ce sens matériel aux seules occurrences parfaitement explicites de par leur contexte syntaxique. L’hypothèse d’une complémentarité, dans l’oracle de Magnésie, entre les νόμιμα et les ὄργια, entre une manière de faire et/ou de dire et des objets nécessaires au bon déroulement des rites nous paraît au moins envisageable. 7. Dans l’optique soutenue par le texte, la notion de « terre sainte » essaie de rendre l’absolu référentiel invoqué par l’entremise de Thèbes.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 269

8. Cf. supra note 4. 9. Sur les rapports entre textes littéraires et pratiques rituelles dionysiaques voir HENRICHS (1978), p. 155–156 et JACCOTTET (1998) et (2003), I, p. 92–93, 139–140. 10. Sur le succès des Bacchantes d’Euripide aux époques suivantes on se référera aux introductions au texte tragique de ROUX (1970), I, p. 72–77 et de SEAFORD (1996), p. 52–54. Voir aussi MASSA (2010). 11. Théocrite, Idylles, 26, 1–2. 12. Cf. Théocrite, Idylles, 26, 9. Sur cette idylle voir GRONINGEN (1963) et CUSSET (1997). 13. Sur le rôle des femmes dans les pratiques rituelles dionysiaques voir JACCOTTET (1998) et (2003), p. 71–100, MASSA (2012). 14. Cf. supra note 4. 15. Sur les distorsions que peut engendrer la prise en compte des fonctions rituelles comme base d’analyse, cf. infra n. 17. 16. Les astérisques indiquent des fonctions exprimées au travers d’un verbe dans l’inscription : p. ex. ἱερεύω ou ἱερατεύω dans une inscription sont considérés, dans la liste, comme attestant d’une fonction de ἱερεύς etc. 17. Travailler sur les seules fonctions rituelles nous expose certes à certaines distorsions, puisque n’apparaissent dans les documents que les fonctions les plus en vue, concernant des figures importantes de l’association, et le plus souvent de la société, qui se mettent ainsi en avant, au travers des inscriptions. L’existence d’autres fonctions, ou d’autres composantes de telle ou telle association — et notamment la présence des femmes (JACCOTTET [2003], I, p. 65–100) — reste possible voire vraisemblable selon les cas de figure ; l’existence de traditions dionysiaques thébaines, par exemple, exprimées par un autre biais, oral, rituel, n’est donc pas à exclure. Mais les fonctions rituelles représentent, dans l’état de notre documentation, la trace la plus directe et la plus fiable du fonctionnement véritablement rituel, en marge d’un imaginaire communément diffusé. L’exemple des Bassarai et du thyrsophore d’un groupement éphésien (cf. infra et n. suivante) montrent bien qu’une touche ‘traditionnelle’ peut être exprimée dans les fonctions, si cela a un sens pour le rituel. 18. IEph 1601–1603 & 1268 (JACCOTTET nos 137–139). 19. En revanche le titre de thiasote de Dionysos (Θεασώτης Διονύσου), attribué à Trajan par une association dionysiaque éphésienne — IEph. 3329 (Jaccottet no 135) — se révèle manifestement honorifique et extérieur à la dynamique proprement rituelle de l’association. 20. Les fragments eschyléens des Bassarai sont issus, en grande partie, des Catastérismes d’Ératosthène, ce qui pose problème pour la reconstruction de l’intrigue de la pièce. Pour une interprétation ‘orphique’ voir WEST (1983), p. 12–15 qui met l’accent sur le conflit entre Apollon et Dionysos ; contra DI MARCO (1993). 21. Sur les Bassarika de Dionysios voir AGOSTI (2001). 22. IEph 1211 (JACCOTTET no 141). 23. IGBulg. 401 (JACCOTTET no 46) 24. IGUR 160 (JACCOTTET no 188). Les ἀρχιβασσάροι se placent juste après le ῞Ηρως et la δᾳδοῦχος, mis en exergue, et les prêtres, dans la hiérarchie de l’association dont la liste redonne le squelette. Les titres des premières fonctions, réservées à un nombre restreint de membres, sont destinés à distinguer les élites familiales du reste de cette double familia bien élargie, cf. JACCOTTET (2003), I, p. 30–53. 25. MORAND (2001), p. 249–282 et 343–346 (inscriptions), JACCOTTET (2003), I, p. 101–122 et II, p. 182–189 (origine et développement). 26. JACCOTTET no 92–93. 27. Il est clair que nous ne disposons que d’une documentation forcément partielle qui rend, comme toujours, toute vision « statistique » périlleuse. Sans prétendre ainsi reproduire l’entier

Kernos, 27 | 2014 270

de la réalité antique, l’examen chronologico-géographique de attestations des boukoloi peut néanmoins mettre en lumière quelques lignes directrices dans leur développement et leur diffusion. 28. La carte répertorie, en les numérotant, tous les lieux où on été trouvées des inscriptions attestant la présence d’une ou de plusieurs associations dionysiaques. Parmi ces occurrences, 11 sites ont livré du matériel évoquant des (archi)boukoloi : no 14 Abdère IIIe s. de notre ère (?) ἀρχιβουκόλος (JACCOTTET no 35) ; no 15 Périnthe, fin du IIe s. de notre ère ἀρχιβουκόλος (JACCOTTET no 36) ; no 18 Apollonie du Pont, fin IIe–déb. IIIe siècle de notre ère βουκόλος (JACCOTTET no 46) ; no 19 Cirpan, 235 de notre ère ἀρχιβουκόλος, βου[κόλος ?] (JACCOTTET no 47) ; no 27 Martviza (Pleven Mésie) archibycolus ( JACCOTTET no 69) ; no 38 Ancyra Sidera (Phrygie) IIIe s. βουκόλος ? (JACCOTTET no 86) ; no 43 Pergame, 27 avant notre ère, Hadrien ἀρχιβουκόλος, βουκόλος, χορεύσαντες βουκόλοι (JACCOTTET no 92–95 & 97–99) ; no 51 Philadelphie, fin du IIe siècle de notre ère ἀρχιβουκόλος (JACCOTTET no 114) ; no 57 Ephèse, Hadrien βουκόλος (JACCOTTET no 138–139) ; no 63 Physcos 2e moitié du IIe siècle de notre ère βουκόλος (JACCOTTET no 153) ; no 75 (Rome et environs) Torre Nova, 160–165 de notre ère ἀρχιβουκόλοι, βουκόλοι ἱεροί, βουκόλοι (JACCOTTET no 188) ; Rome fin du IVe siècle de notre ère archibuolus (JACCOTTET no 192–194) ; no 77 (pas sur la carte) Thamugadis (Timgad) IIe siècle de notre ère bucolista (JACCOTTET no 198–200). 29. JACCOTTET (2003), I, p. 30–53. Thamugadis (Timgad) a également fourni trois inscriptions mentionnant un bucolista à la fin du IIe siècle de notre ère, toutes trois funéraires (JACCOTTET no 198–200). Les relais qui ont amené cette fonction à Thamugadis, ne peuvent être éclaircis en l’état de nos connaissances. Il n’est pas non plus possible de savoir dans quel cadre ces trois hommes ont assumé cette fonction. Seule sa parenté avec les βουκόλοι nous incite à en faire des témoignages dionysiaques. 30. JACCOTTET (2003), II, p. 319–320. 31. IPergamon 485 (JACCOTTET no 94) Ier siècle de notre ère (1re moitié ?). 32. IPergamon 487 (JACCOTTET no 97) fin du Ier siècle de notre ère, et IGR IV 386 (JACCOTTET no 98) après 106 de notre ère. 33. IGR IV 386 (JACCOTTET no 98) après 106 de notre ère et IPergamon 486a (JACCOTTET no 99) époque d’Hadrien. 34. Sur la concurrence entre Éphèse et Pergame voir Aelius Aristide, Discours XXIII, 65–67 et HELLER (2006). 35. IEph 3329 (JACCOTTET no 135). 36. IEph 275 (JACCOTTET no 136). 37. IEph 293 (JACCOTTET no 142). 38. IEph 1601–1603 & 1268 (JACCOTTET no 137–139). 39. Il faudra attendre les auteurs chrétiens pour que les termes ἱερολόγος et ἱερολογία se diffusent dans le langage religieux : cf. par exemple le Pseudo-Denys l’Aréopagite dans son traité, La Hiérarchie ecclésiastique, p. 68, 70, 80 et 84 éd. HEIL-RITTER. 40. Cf. GRAF, JOHNSTON (2007), p. 176. Pour une réflexion générale sur la nature des hieroi logoi, voir HENRICHS (2003), p. 231–250 et BAUMGARTEN (1998). 41. Cf. Hérodote II, 48, 3 (cultes dionysiaques) ; 51, 4 (mystères de Samothrace) ; 62, 2 (fête égyptienne) ; 81, 2 (interdiction de l’usage de la laine). Sur l’emploi hérodotéen de l’expression, voir HENRICHS (2003), p. 235–239. 42. Pausanias VIII, 15, 4. Cf. aussi Plutarque, Isis et Osiris, 353d. 43. D’après GRAF, JOHNSTON (2007), p. 180–181 il s’agissait de discours qui circulaient sous une forme écrite garantissant la préservation de leur contenu dans la mesure où ils étaient utilisés par des petits groupes. Contra HENRICHS (2003), p. 240 : « In Greece proper, hieroi logoi remained by definition unwritten. »

Kernos, 27 | 2014 271

44. IEph 1595 (JACCOTTET no 140). 45. Si l’on choisit, comme nous l’avons fait, de considérer que ce document émane plus probablement des deux entités conjointes que d’une seule. 46. IEph 4337 : οἱ πρὸ πόλεως Δημητριασταί dans la formule de sanction du décret l. 27. 47. On notera par exemple qu’une base de statue éphésienne de la fin du IIe siècle de notre ère mentionne un prêtre de Διόνυσος Ὄρειος Βάκχιος πρὸ πόλεως, personnage d’ailleurs de haut rang social (C. Flavius Furius Aptus, IEph 1267 [Jaccottet no 134]). Ce sont bel et bien les prêtres ou, dans le cas des Démétriastes, les membres d’une communauté qui sont qualifiés de pro poleôs, non directement la divinité. 48. IEph. 1270. 49. Cf. POLAND (1909) p. 36–41, GRAF (2003), BELAYCHE (2013), p. 35–39, BORGEAUD (2013). Pour la diffusion et le sens des mystes dionysiaques, cf. JACCOTTET (2003), I, p. 128–131 et (2006). 50. « Ces cérémonies appelées μυστήρια apparaissent plutôt comme des moments cérémoniels réservés à des happy fews. […] Ces fonctions reflètent la hiérarchisation sociale accrue, une ‘aristocratisation’ au sein même des élites, et la diffusion d’un emploi métaphorique du vocabulaire mystérique, dont la générosité des élites faisait profiter toute la population », BELAYCHE 2013, p. 39. 51. Pour un répertoire des attestations voir SCHUDDEBOOM (2009). Sur la large diffusion du vocabulaire mystérique voir GRAF (2003) et BELAYCHE (2013), p. 35–39. 52. Cf. HAMILTON (1977), RIEDWEG (1987), qui suit en partie les positions de NOCK (1952), STROUMSA (1996), p. 20–22 et SFAMENI GASPARRO (2000). 53. Pour le baptême comme μυστήριον cf. Athanase, Discours contre les Ariens XLII, Eusèbe de Césarée, Démonstration évangélique IX, 6, Sur la théologie ecclésiastique I, 8 ; comme τελετή cf. Origène, Contre Celse III, 59 et Jean Chrysostome, À Théodore I, 17. Pour l’eucharistie comme μυστήριον cf. Eusèbe de Césarée, Démonstration évangélique I, 10, Athanase d’Alexandrie, Apologie contre les Ariens II, 31, Cyrille d’Alexandrie, Les catéchèses baptismales XII, 23, Épiphane de Salamine, Contre les hérétiques LXVIII, 7 ; comme τελετή cf. Jean Chrysostome, Sur le sacerdoce III, 4. 54. Sur le problème de l’authenticité de ses lettres et de la « question ignacienne » voir MUNIER (1993) et PRINZIVALLI, SIMONETTI (2010), p. 283–291. Pour un commentaire détaillé voir SCHOEDEL (1985). 55. Sur la datation des lettres d’Ignace voir FOSTER (2007) et PRINZIVALLI, SIMONETTI (2010), p. 290. 56. Cf. Ignace, Lettre aux Éphésiens VII, 1 : l’auteur parle sans doute de groupes considérés comme « hérétiques ». 57. Cf. PRINZIVALLI, SIMONETTI (2010), p. 294. 58. Les textes chrétiens les plus anciens n’utilisent pas tous le terme « chrétien(s) » : dans les écrits qui rentreront dans le Nouveau Testament, il n’est attesté que dans les Actes des Apôtres XΙ, 26 et XXVI, 21, et dans la Lettre à Pierre IV, 16. En revanche, le terme « chrétien(s) » apparaît dans la Didachè XII, 4 et chez Ignace d’Antioche, Lettre aux Éphésiens XI, 2, Lettre aux Magnésiens IV, 1, Lettre aux Romains III, 2, Lettre à Polycarpe VII, 3. 59. Cf. Ignace, Lettres aux Éphésiens VIII, 2. 60. Cf. HARLAND (2009). 61. Cf. Ignace, Lettre aux Éphésiens IV, 2. 62. Sur la « réforme » d’Ignace on se référera à BRENT (1992). 63. Cf. Ignace, Lettre aux Éphésiens IX, 2. 64. Le corpus des Lettres de Paul (ou qui lui sont attribuées) présente presque exclusivement le singulier μυστήριον : cf. Épître aux Romains I, 11 et XVI 25 ; Première Épître aux Corinthiens II, 1 et XV 51 ; Épître aux Éphésiens I, 9, III, 3, 9, V, 32 et VI, 19 ; Épître aux Colossiens I, 26, 27, II, 2 et IV, 3 ; Épître aux Thessaloniciens II, 7 ; Première Épître à Timothée III, 9 et 16. Il n’y a que deux occurrences de μυστήρια : Première Épître aux Corinthiens I, 13 et II, 14. Voir NOCK (1952).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 272

65. Cf. Ignace, Lettre aux Éphésiens XII, 2. 66. Cf. par exemple IG XII, 8, 173. Sur le terme συμμύσται voir BURKERT (1987), p. 75. 67. Cf. JACCOTTET no 20, 32, 35, 43, 82, 89, 112, 161. 68. Cf. JACCOTTET (2009) et (2011). 69. Cf. Ignace, Lettre aux Éphésiens IX, 1. 70. Sur le rôle du théâtre et du langage théâtral chez Clément d’Alexandrie voir LUGARESI (2008), p. 489–503. 71. Clément d’Alexandrie, Protreptique aux Hellènes I, 2, 3. 72. JACCOTTET no 115–118, 120–122 et commentaire p. 216–217. 73. Sur les rapports d’Ignace avec la culture grecque et romaine voir BRENT (2006). Sur les cultes à mystères en particulier voir BRENT (2005). 74. Le langage utilisé par Ignace varie, ce qui permet de faire l’hypothèse d’un usage spécifique selon la communauté à laquelle l’auteur chrétien s’adressait, cf. TREVETT (1992), p. 75–80 et HARLAND (2009), p. 47. 75. Cette inscription est communément appelée « loi sacrificielle » dans la critique moderne, en référence sans doute au terme νόμος que porte l’inscription. La répartition très grossière selon le type de mise en place ou de combustion des victimes (190 dont on prélève le cœur et détache la cuisse ; 175 en offrande complète) suffit-elle à faire de ce texte une « loi sacrificielle » ? On y sent plus les termes du contrat implicitement accepté par tout prytane entrant en charge en matière de sacrifices publics et donc de dépenses sacrificielles à concéder pour le bien de la communauté ; les amendes prévues en cas de faute ou de manquement à ces devoirs rituels (l. 25–32) soulignent le caractère contractuel du texte ; nous renvoyons à PARKER (2004), LUPU (2005), p. 4–9 et CARBON, PIRENNE-DELFORGE (2012) pour la question du terme controversé de « loi sacrée » et à HARRIS (2013) pour les critères juridiques et formels d’identification d’une loi. 76. IEph 10. On notera que PRICE (1999) a choisi de retenir cette inscription dans les 15 documents représentatifs des « religions des anciens Grecs » (no 7). L’affirmation de la filiation à la tradition est, sans doute, à comprendre comme un acte de communication plus que comme une déclaration à prendre au pied de la lettre. Sur l’importance de la communication et de l’affirmation de la conformité à la tradition lors de modifications rituelles, cf. STAVRIANOPOULOU (2006 b). 77. Ce parallèle nous a été fort judicieusement suggéré par Nicole Belayche lors de l’atelier Chicago-Paris 2012. Qu’elle en soit ici vivement remerciée. 78. Denys d’Halicarnasse, Antiquités romaines II, 73, trad. V. FROMENTIN, J. SCHNÄBELE, Paris, Les Belles Lettres 1990 (traduction légèrement modifiée) : […] νομοθετοῦσιν ὅσα τῶν ἱερῶν ἄγραφα ὄντα καὶ ἀνέθιστα κρίνοντες ἃ ἄν έπιτήδεια τυγχάνειν αὐτοῖς φανείη νόμων τε καὶ ἐθισμῶν τάς τε ἀρχὰς ἁπάσας, ὅσαις θυσία τις ἢ θεραπεία θεῶν ἀνάκειται, καὶ τοὺς ἱερεῖς ἅπαντας ἐξετάζουσιν, ὑπηρέτας τε αὐτῶν καὶ λειτουργούς, οἷς χρῶνται πρὸς τὰ ἱερά, οὗτοι φυλάττουσιν μηδὲν ἐξαμαρτάνειν περὶ τοὺς ἱεροὺς νόμους· [...] ὥστε εἰ βούλεταί τις αὐτους ἱεροδιδασκάλους καλεῖν εἴτε ἱερονόμους εἴτε ἱεροφύλακας εἴτε, ὡς ἡμεῖς ἀξιοῦμεν, ἱεροφάντας, οὐχ ἁμαρτήσεται τοῦ ἀληθοῦς. Sur ce passage voir VAN HAEPEREN (2002) p. 13–14, 59–61. 79. On renverra à STAVRIANOPOULOU (2006) et BRICAULT, BONNET (2013 a) pour des pistes de recherche dans cette direction. 80. SCHEID (2010), p. 9 : « Dans la mesure où elle n’est pas écrite, la norme n’est pas connue en détail, et de toute façon ne porte pas sur le détail. Comme le terme ritus, elle désigne une façon de faire, une façon de célébrer le culte, non une série de rites et de règles précises. » 81. Sur le caractère résolument humain des interventions sur les rituels cf, SCHEID (2010), part. p. 7 pour le monde romain, STAVRIANOPOULOU (2006 b) pour le monde grec. Sur l’importance de la communication qui donne l’impression d’une immuabilité par delà les changements effectifs, Cf. STAVRIANOPOULOU (2006 c), p. 10 et (2006 b). PIRENNE-DELFORGE, SCHEID (2013), p. 312 : « De la même

Kernos, 27 | 2014 273

manière qu’un système religieux, quel qu’il soit, contient toujours des éléments qui proviennent de divers arrière-plans culturels, ce même système recèle une potentialité dynamique qui ouvre sur des éléments nouveaux, fussent-ils parés des vêtements respectables de la tradition ancestrale. » 82. Dans le seul cadre des associations dionysiaques citons les Thiasites de Callatis, chargés par la ville de la tenue des initiations : pour les inscriptions, cf. AVRAM (1999), n o 36, 42–47 et 80, JACCOTTET (2003), n o 54–61, pour l’analyse, AVRAM (1995) et (2000), JACCOTTET (2003), I, 150–162, (2005), p. 196–199 et (2006), p. 223–224 ; à Milet, les prêtres des diverses corporations dionysiaques défilent derrière le prêtre et la prêtresse publics (LSAM no 38, JACCOTTET no 150). 83. Sur la perméabilité du ‘privé’ et de ‘l’officiel’ dans le cadre dionysiaque en particulier, cf. JACCOTTET (2005). Notamment l’appellation πρὸ πόλεως indique le rapport étroit de l’association à la cité (à Éphèse, Thasos, Augusta Tajana, Smyrne Magnésie du Méandre, Milo) ; plusieurs associations honorent Dionysos sous l’épiclèse du culte officiel de la cité (Akmonia, Sébasté en Phrygie, Philadelphie en Lydie) ; enfin les honneurs rendus aux empereurs par les associations marquent aussi cette perméabilité basée sur une certaine course à la visibilité (à Éphèse ou Périnthe ; sur les relations entre les associations éphésiennes de toute obédience et les empereurs, cf. HARLAND (1996), notamment p. 328 et 331).

RÉSUMÉS

Trois dossiers distincts, mais complémentaires, et rattachés à la ville d’Éphèse sont convoqués pour éclairer des cas concrets de transmission de pratiques, de savoirs ou de vocabulaire rituels. Tout d’abord, les associations dionysiaques d’Éphèse permettent d’aborder la question des référents à partir desquels se constitue un rituel, vu que chaque association est un cas unique, au profil cultuel particulier. Ensuite, l’examen de la Lettre aux Éphésiens d’Ignace d’Antioche souligne l’utilisation par un des premiers auteurs chrétiens d’un vocabulaire associatif et mystérique pour véhiculer son message chrétien. Cela suppose une large diffusion et une connaissance partagée de pratiques rituelles. Enfin, une inscription d’Éphèse met en lumière le rôle du hiérophante public comme indispensable « passeur de tradition » dans l’exécution des rites publics par les magistrats et insiste sur la séparation des tâches et des savoirs en matière rituelle. La mise en parallèle de ces trois cas permet de remettre en question la distinction entre un savoir proprement cultuel et des connaissances fondées plus largement sur des références culturelles : dans un savoir religieux en action, c’est le rite effectif qui devient lui-même référence culturelle.

Three different — although complementary — dossiers on Ephesus shed light on the question of the transmission of knowledge, practices and vocabulary relating to rituals. First, the analysis of the Dionysiac associations in Ephesus aims at addressing the question of the referents constituting a ritual, since each association is unique, characterized by a specific cultural profile. Secondly, the analysis of the Letter to the Ephesians by Ignatius of Antioch shows how one of the first Christian authors uses the vocabulary used by associations as well as referring to mysteries in order to deliver his Christian message. This presupposes a widespread and shared knowledge of ritual practices. Finally, an inscription from Ephesus underlines the role of the public hierophant as essential passeur de tradition in the magistrates’ execution of public rituals and emphasizes the division of tasks and knowledge within the context of these rituals. The parallel study of these three case studies leads us to question the distinction usually made between cultic

Kernos, 27 | 2014 274

knowledge and knowledge based on cultural referents: within the context of religious knowledge in action, the actual rite itself becomes a cultural referent.

AUTEURS

ANNE-FRANÇOISE JACCOTTET Université de Genève [email protected]

FRANCESCO MASSA Aix-Marseille Université Centre Paul-Albert Février (UMR 7297 CPAF-TDMAM), LabexMed [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 275

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Kernos, 27 | 2014 276

Epigraphic Bulletin for Greek Religion 2011 (EBGR 2011)

Angelos Chaniotis

1 The 24th issue of the Epigraphic Bulletin for Greek Religion presents epigraphic publications of 2011 and additions to earlier issues (publications of 2006–2010). Publications that could not be considered here, for reasons of space, will be presented in EBGR 2012. They include two of the most important books of 2011: N. PAPAZARKADAS’ Sacred and Public Land in Ancient Athens, Oxford 2011 and H.S. VERSNEL’s Coping with the Gods: Wayward Readings in Greek Theology, Leiden 2011.

2 A series of new important corpora is included in this issue. Two new IG volumes present the inscriptions of Eastern Lokris (119) and the first part of the inscriptions of Kos (21); the latter corpus is of great significance for the study of Greek religion, as it contains a large number of cult regulations; among the new texts, we single out the ‘sacred law of the tribe of the Elpanoridai’ in Halasarna. The other corpora present the votive monuments in the Athenian Agora (55), the inscriptions of Andros (101), addenda to the inscriptions of Bostra and the inscriptions of the plain of Nuqrah (114). Among the other publications summarized in this volume we observe an interest in cult regulations (1. 21. 34. 53. 54. 56. 64. 85. 87. 96. 101. 110. 116. 118. 127. 130), the financial aspects of cult (44. 47. 113. 121), and the continuation of pagan worship in Late Antiquity (14. 21. 59. 88. 91. 127. 133. 134). The reader will find in this issue inscriptions that cover all aspects of worship and religious mentality, from expressions of piety to evidence for the neglect of cult. We mention a few interesting texts. A list of ephebes from Tanagra in Boiotia has enriched our knowledge of this city’s agonistic culture in the Imperial period (37); the appeal of Greek agonistic festivals among the Roman elite is attested through an inscription from Tarraco in Spain that records victories (of the owner of a villa?) at the Nemea and Aktia (3). An interesting form of divination is revealed through the study of bronze spherulae from Himera (24). An inscription from Limyra in Lykia (136) attests for the first time in Lykia the existence of a Thesmophorion and shows that the cult of Demeter Thesmophoros was introduced in the early Hellenistic period (if not earlier). The salvage excavations for the construction of Istanbul’s subway have yielded among other interesting finds an inscription that

Kernos, 27 | 2014 277

records the dedication of a fishing net, probably to Poseidon (46). An interesting acclamation for Zeus Hypsistos comes from Pantikapaion (123): χαῖρε Ζεῦ Ὕψιστ[ε παντο]κράτωρ ἀνίκη[τε - - -] (‘hail, Zeus Hypsistos, ruler of all, invincible’). A new inscription from Itanos on Crete (still unpublished) contains a list of ten girls, members of a chorus that participated in a procession, led by the priestess of Leukothea; the girls should attend the procession in the exact order in which their names appeared on the inscription (130).

3 The principles explained in Kernos 4 (1991), p. 287–288, and Kernos 7 (1994), p. 287, also apply to this issue. Abbreviations that are not included in the list are those of L’Année Philologique and J.H.M. STRUBBE (ed.), Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum. Consolidated Index for Volumes XXXVI-XLV (1986–1995), Amsterdam, 1999, as well as of later volumes of the SEG. If not otherwise specified, dates are BCE. Jonah Rosenberg (University of Oxford) has improved the English text.

Abbreviations

4 L’argent dans les concours: B. LE GUEN (ed.), L’argent dans les concours du monde grec, Saint Denis, 2010.

5 La cité et ses élites: L. CAPDETREY, Y. LAFOND (eds.), La cité et ses élites. Pratiques et représentation des formes de domination et de contrôle social dans les cités grecques, Bordeaux, 2010.

6 Epigrammata – Susini: A. INGLESE (ed.), Epigrammata. Iscrizioni greche e communicazione letteraria in ricordo di Giancarlo Susini. Atti del convegno di Roma, 1–2 ottobre 2009, Tivoli, 2010.

7 Late Antique Paganism: L. LAVAN, M. MULRYAN (eds.), The Archaeology of Late Antique ‘Paganism’, Leiden, 2011.

8 Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity: J. DIJHKSTRA, J. KROESEN, Y. KUIPER (eds.), Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity: Studies in the History of Religions in Honour of Jan N. Bremmer, Leiden, 2010.

9 Onomatologos: R.W.V. CATLING, F. MARCHAND (eds.), Onomatologos: Studies in Greek Personal Names Presented to Elaine Matthews, Oxford, 2010.

10 Philologos Dionysios: N. BADOUD (ed.), Philologos Dionysios. Mélanges offerts au professeur Denis Knoepfler, Geneva, 2011.

11 Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean: A. CHANIOTIS (ed.), Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean: Agency, Emotion, Gender, Representation, Stuttgart, 2011.

12 Sacred Words: A.P.M.H. LARDINOIS, J.H. BLOK, M.G.M. VAN DER POEL (eds.), Sacred Words: Orality, Literacy and Religion, Leiden, 2011.

Index

Geographical areas (in the sequence adopted by SEG)

13 Attica: 1. 73. 96. 113; Athens: 16. 30. 42. 55. 64. 83. 85. 105. 113. 118. 128–129. 132. 134; Brauron: 73; Eleusis: 83. 98; Rhamnous: 62. 73. Peloponnese: Corinthia: Corinth: 113. Argolis: Argos: 84. 113. Troizenia:Kalaureia: 131. Epidauria: Epidauros: 84. Messenia: Andania: 35; Messene: 10. 12. 36. 122; Pylos: 12; Thouria: 100. Elis: Olympia: 55. 113.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 278

Boiotia: 31. 41; Akraiphia: 59. 91; Lebadeia: 88; Tanagra: 37. 88; Thespiai: 9. Aitolia: 86. Delphi: 58. 99. 101. 110. 113. 119. 124. Phokis: 31. Eastern Lokris: 119. Akarnania: Anaktorion: 88. Thessaly: 61. 89. 97; Demetrias: 60. 74; Hypate: 27; Pherai: 109. Epeiros: 26. Illyria: 14; Bouthrotos: 91. Macedonia: Beroia: 95; Chalkidike: 125; Dion: 30; Leukopetra: 36; Thessalonike: 82. 92. Thrace: 48; Augusta Traiana: 25; Byzantion: 46; Constantinople: 46; Philippopolis: 70. Moesia: Tomis: 8. 11. North Shore of the Black Sea: Olbia: 23. 40. 67; Pantikapaion: 123; Tanais: 68. Delos: 21. 82–84. 88. 91. 110. 126. Rhodes: 9; Lindos: 44. Lesbos: Mytilene: 43. Astypalaia: 87. Patmos: 44. Kos: 21. 44. 58. 110. Kalymnos: 44. Naxos: 44. Keos: 127. Andros: 101. Amorgos: 88. Samos : 44. Samothrake: 38. Thasos: 79. Euboia: 82. Crete: 54; Aptera: 81; Idaean Cave: 32. 44; Itanos: 130. Italy : 112; Rome: 36. Sicily: Himera: 24; Tauromenion: 13. 26. Spain: Tarraco: 3. Asia Minor: 22. 72. Karia: Aphrodisias: 39; Attouda: 90; Bargylia: 21. 88; Halikarnassos: 15; Herakleia Salbake: 90; Iasos: 88; Knidos: 110. Phrygia: 90; Tralleis: 58. Ionia: Ephesos: 36. 59. 111; Erythrai: 21. 30; Miletos: 23. Teos: 71. Troas: Ilion: 88. Mysia: Pergamon: 115. Bithynia: Prusa ad Olympum: 6. Paphlagonia: Hadrianopolis: 76; Pompeiopolis: 80. Galatia: Ankyra: 103. Phrygia: Aizanoi: 135; Kelenai/Apameia: 49; Themisonion: 90. Pisidia: Antiocheia: 75. Pamphylia: Sagalassos: 121. Lykia: Limyra: 136. Kommagene: 116. Palestine: 19. Syria: Antiocheia: 65. Kyrenaika: Ptolemais: 108. Egypt: 47. 107; Ptolemais: 30.

Selected topics

14 account: 14

15 acclamation: 3. 19. 34. 36. 104. 114. 121

16 aesthetic aspects in cult: 98

17 afterlife: 3. 19. 21. 93. 114

18 agency: 21. 83

19 agonistic festival: see s.vv. contest, festival

20 altar: 21. 55. 58. 115. 119; shared: 21. 119

21 amphictyony: 110

22 amulet: 40. 50. 66; see also s.vv. gem, phylactery

23 ancestral custom: 21. 56; cult: 21; festival: 37; tradition: 118

24 animal, sacrificial: 21. 127. 134; bull: 21; deer: 31; ewe: 21; goat: 21. 44; kid: 21; lamb: 21; ox: 21. 127; pig: 21. 127; pregnant: 44; ram: 21; sheep: 21. 127; selection of: 21. 57. 127; yearling: 21

25 association, cult: 21. 23. 55. 68. 92. 93. 115. 120. 129; of participants in music contests: 80

26 asylia: 21

27 banquet: 1. 21. 37. 60. 92. 101. 115. 127

28 benefactor: 28. 59. 84. 88. 91

29 birthday, of emperor: 37; of king: 101

30 boy: 21

31 burial practices: 8. 19; funded by association: 92; intra-shrine burial: 83; of newly born babies and fetuses: 87; see also funeral, funerary cult

Kernos, 27 | 2014 279

32 calendar, of Corinthian colonies: 13. 26; festive c.: 21; in Thessaly: 61

33 cave: 125

34 chorus: 21. 59. 130

35 Christianity: 44. 47. 113. 114. 121; oracle in favor of C.: 44

36 civic subdivision and religion: 1. 21. 55. 96. 105. 110. 133

37 cleromancy: 24

38 commemorative contest: 21; festival: 36; ritual: 21. 92

39 consecration, of sacred place: 21

40 contest: 21. 29. 37; bull hunt: 61; music contest: 80; torch race: 61; see also s.v. agonistic festival

41 crowning: 21

42 cult, ancestral: 21; exclusion: 45; finances: 21. 127; interruption of: 98; introduction of: 82. 98. 107. 125; participation in: 21. 98; renewal: 21. 44. 59

43 cult, of deceased family member: 21; see also s.vv. heros/heroic cult, imperial cult, ruler cult

44 cult personnel: agretas 21. 110; archiereus of civic imperial cult: 39. 49. 101; archiereus of imperial cult of koinon: 29. 55; agonothetes: 10. 14. 37. 42. 90. 91. 119; archeuon 21; chaleidophoros:10; dadouchos 55; Daliades 21; epimenios 21; epimeletes 55; exegetes 55; Helladarches 29; hestiator 37; hiereia 55. 101. 129. 130; hiereus: 6. 10. 21. 37. 55. 64. 90. 101. 119. 134. 135; hiereus heptaterikos 27; hierokeryx 21. 90; hierophantes 55; hierophylax 21; hieropoios 55. 98. 130. 132; hieropolos 21. 130; hieros 119; hierotamias 21; hierothytes: 10. 100; hypozakoros 55; kanephoros 55. 83; kleidouchos 55; napoiai 21; neokoros 68; paianistes 55; pentameros 119; periegetes 55; phaidyntes 55; pompagogos 130; pyrphoros 55; therapeutes 55; zakoros 55

45 cult regulation: 1. 21. 34. 53. 54. 56. 64. 85. 87. 96. 101. 110. 116. 118. 127. 130

46 curse: see s.vv. defixio, funerary imprecation

47 dance: 59

48 dedication: 69. 79; label on: 22

49 dedication, motives for: after victory in contest: 55; after victory in war: 16. 55; upon divine command: 76; in accordance with a dream: 103; in accordance with an oracle: 80; on behalf of emperor: 114; on behalf of family members: 114

50 dedication, agent of: magistrates: 101; magistrates after their term in office: 55. 81. 122; priest/priestess: 55. 90. 101. 119; priest/priestess after their term in office: 87; soldiers: 89

51 dedication, object of: anatomical votive: 55; building: 90. 101. 114; cross-torches: 73; ears: 82; footprints: 82; hand: 122; image of one dedicated deity to another: 55; painting: 55; one’s own statue: 126; wheel: 119

52 defixio: 18. 40. 43. 46?. 65. 112. 114. 128

53 deities: Adrasteia: 101. Agathos Daimon: 21. Aidos: 21. Amphitrite: 14. Aphrodite: 55. 89. 122; Aphrogenes 55; Epekoos 21. 71; Epiteuxidia 92; Kythereia 55; Pandemos 14; Pontia 46. Apollo: 21. 41. 44. 55. 90. 118. 119; Agyieus 122; Delios 21. 44. 110; Delphinios 23; Horomedon 21; hyp’ Akrais 55; Ietros 23; Ismenios 124; Kendrissos 70; Koropaios 74; Korythos 10; Leukatas 89?; Lykeios 23. 55; Patroios 101; Philios 23; Phyxios 21; Ptoios 59; Pythios 21; Toxophoros 23.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 280

Ares: Saprenos 25. Artemis: 31. 44. 55. 73. 86. 89. 101. 119. 122. 126; Akraia 92; Ariste 96; Ephesia 36. 59; Gourasia 92; Iolkia 74; Kalliste 55. 96; Kindyas 21. 88; Koryphasia 12; Limnatis 10; Lochia 87; Phosphoros 89; Soteira 55. Asklepios: 21. 36. 55. 85. 89. 90. 92. 98. 101. 125. 132. Athena: 14. 21. 27. 55. 119; Ergane 55; Ilias 88. 120; Itonia 61; Lindia 21. 44; Mounychia 55; Nike 21; Phratria 55; Polias 21. 55. 101. 105; Soteira 21. Charites: 21. Chiron: 74. Demeter: 21. 55. 58. 73. 76. 83. 98. 101. 119. 121; Chthonia 109; Soteira 58; Thesmophoros 136. Dionysos: 21. 29. 55. 92. 93. 101. 115. 119. 120. 125. 133. 134; Anthios 96; Horophoros 92; Kaprios 89; Kathegemon 115; Megas 101; Sminthios 21. Dioskouroi: 21. Eileithyia: 21. 55. 87. 101. 119; Epilysamena 24. Ennodia: 74. 119. Epione: 21. Eros: 55. Euporia: 55. Ge: 101. Hebe: 55. Hekate: 21. Helios : 9. 21. 80. 93. 101; Basileus 80. Hemera: 21. Hephaistos: 55. Hera: 44. 115. Herakles: 15. 21. 24. 37. 44. 74. 89. 92. 101. 119. 124; Kynagidas 74. Hermaphroditos: 21. Hermes: 15. 21. 37. 101. 119; Chthonios 74. 95; Enagonios 21; Probakchos 21. Hestia: 81; Boulaia 21. 55. 101. Homonoia: 21. 101. Hygieia: 21. 55. 101. 111. Kore: 21. 55. 58. 73. 76. 83. 96. 98. 101. 119. 121; Paphie 55. Korybantes: 115. Kybele: 46. Leukathea/Leukothea: 24. 130. Machaon: 21. Mes: 75. Messene: 12. Meter: Megale: 122;Oreia: 109;Theon: 36. 55. 101. 122. 129. Mnemosyne: 55. Muses: 55. 119. Nemesis: 55. 101. Nike: 21. Nikeros: 21. Nymphs: 11. 85. 101. 125. Pan: 21. 85. Pasikrata: 74. Peitho: 21. Persephone: 114. Plouton: 21. 80. 114. Podaleirios: 21. Poseidon: 14. 46. 58. 92. 122. 131; Apotropos 58; Arges 58; Asphaleios 58; Einalios 58; Erechtheus 105; Gairestios 21; Hippios 58; Isthmios 21; Sosineos 101?; Temenouchos 58. Posphoroi: 55. Priapos: 21. Psithyros: 44. Theoi: Dodeka 21. 55; Katachthonioi 101; Megaloi 38; Pantes 55; Patroioi 21. Theos: Agathe 96; Hagne: 96; Hypsistos 36. 90. 92. Tyche: 114; Agathe 21. Zeus: 14. 21. 58. 80. 101. 114. 122; Akraios 74; Ammon 125; Aniketos 123; Basileus 21; Boulaios 21. 55; Bronton 76; Eleutherios 29. 61; Embaterios 29; Gongylos 92; Horios 21; Hyetios 21; Hypsistos 123; Ithomatas 10; Karaios 27; Karpophoros 101; Kasios 122; Kataibates 21; Kimestenos 76; Kraouandaseon 22; Ktesios 21; Maimaktes 101; Meilichios 55. 101; Nemeios 21; Olympios 29. 61. 97; Ombrios 55; Ourios 21; Pantokrator 123; Patroios 21. 119; Perpheretas 89; Philios 21; Phratrios 55; Polieus 21. 55; Soter 21. 24. 27. 122; Teleios 55

54 deities, Egyptian: 31. 55. 80. 82. 83. 92. 101. 104. 107. 119; Oriental: Mithras 101; Syrian: Atargatis 87; Dousares 114; Marnas (Zeus) 114; Thracian: Thracian Rider 48. 78. 92. 101

55 deities, assimilation of: 55 (Aphrodite-Kore). 80 (Helios-Zeus-Sarapis). 92 (Dionysos- Zeus Gongylos); eponymous officials: 46; images decorating warships: 21; patrons of fishing: 46; patrons of winds: 110; river-god: 68. 90

56 Dionysiac artists: 21. 71. 119. 120

57 divination: 6. 18. 20. 24. 33

58 drama, sacred: 92

59 dream: 20. 103. 107

60 earthquake: 58

61 Eleusinian mysteries: 54. 73. 83. 96. 98

62 elite: 10. 130; see also s.vv. benefactor, society

63 emotion: 34. 36; divine anger: 58. 102

64 endowment: 88. 119; see also s.v. foundation

65 ephebes: 29. 55. 59

66 exegesis: 64

Kernos, 27 | 2014 281

67 exorcism: 18

68 experience: 36

69 fate: 3

70 festival: 35. 127; announcement of: 64 announcement of honors in f.: 21; earthquake during f.: 58; funding: 28. 42. 59; interruption of: 59; invitation to: 64; order: 34; prohibitions: 34; recitals in: 99; see also s.vv. agonistic festival, banquet, procession, sacrifice

71 festival, agonistic: 8. 14. 35. 106. 119. 120; funding: 28. 77. 84. 88. 91. 119. 120. 133; performances of rhapsodes: 33; prohedria: 90; rewards of victors: 77. 99. 106; Aianteia 120 (Lokris); Aktia 3. 88; Antoneia 29 (Athens); Apollonia 88 (Delos); Asklepieia 21 (Kos). 29 (Epidauros); Basileia 9. 88 (Lebadeia); Demostheneia 35 (Oinoanda); Didymeia 21; Dionysia: 21 (Erythrai, Kos). 29 (Thebes). 42. 133 (Athens). 88 (Iasos). 119 (Opous); Eleusinia 55; Eleutheria 61 (Larisa); Epidauria 55; Epinikia 29 (Athens); Erotidaia 29 (Thespiai); Germanikeia 29 (Athens); Hadrianeia 29 (Athens); Herakleia 29 (Thebes); Hermaia 37 (Tanagra); Isthmia 29; Itonia 88 (Amorgos); Kaisareia 29 (Akraiphia, Athens, Chalkis, Corinth, Epidauros, Gythion, Hyampolis, Lebadeia, Lykosoura, Messene, Patrai, Sikyon, Sparta, Tanagra, Thespiai); Kommodeia 29 (Athens, Sparta, Thebes); Leukophryena 21; Lykaia 29 (Lykosoura); Mouseia 29 (Thespiai); Naia 26; Nemea 3. 9. 29; Nemesia 62 (Rhamnous); Nikephoria 21; Olympia 29 (Athens, Sparta). 97 (Thessaly); Oreionia 37 (Tanagra); Panhellenia 29. 55 (Athens); Philadelpheia 29 (Athens); Posideia 88 (Delos); Ptoa 29; Pythia 90 (Attouda). 99. 124 (Delphi); Rhieia 120 (Physkos); Rhomaia 21 (Kos). 29 (Thespiai); Sarapieia 88 (Tanagra); Sebasta 29 (Athens); Sebasteia 29 (Argos, Demetrias, Echinos, Hypata, Thespiai); Seleukeia 21 (Erythrai); Soteria 99. 101 (Delphi)

72 festival: Daidala: 35; Hyakinthia: 35; Kynegesia: 37; Thargelia: 118; Thesmophoria: 35. 58

73 finances, sacred: 14. 21. 59. 84. 88. 91. 127. 133. 134; see also s.v. account

74 foreigners: 42. 43. 92

75 foundation: 21; for cult of family member: 21; see also s.v. endowment

76 founder, of city: see s.v.ktistes; of cult: 75

77 funeral: 34

78 funerary cult: 53. 92; see also s.vv. burial, grave

79 funerary imprecation: 90. 102

80 garden: 21. 55

81 gem: 3; see also s.vv. amulet, phylactery

82 girl: 130

83 gladiatorial event: 39. 49

84 grave: 114; protection of: 102

85 grove: 44

86 gymnasion: 21. 37. 93. 101. 119

87 healing: 50. 51. 55. 78; healing miracle: 90

88 hero, heroic cult: 1. 21 (Charmylos). 37 (Orion). 55 (heros Iatros, heros Strategos). 67 (Achilleus Pontarches). 78 (Rhesos). 89 (Aineas, Dikaios). 92 (heros Aulonites, Aineias). 97 (Thessalos). 101 (Sosineos, Prophylax?)

Kernos, 27 | 2014 282

89 Homer: 33. 126

90 humor: 124

91 hymn: 30. 55. 58. 59. 101

92 identity: 36. 37. 61. 89

93 impiety: 45

94 imperial cult: 21. 27. 29. 44. 49. 55. 59. 63. 101. 103. 115. 119; association with traditional cults: 27. 29; identification of emperor with god: 21 (Claudius-Poseidon). 29 (Trajan- Zeus Embaterios, Sabina-Demeter); months named after emperors: 37 (Kaisarios)

95 imprecation, funerary: 90. 102

96 incantation: 50. 51

97 incubation: 21

98 initiation: 21. 52. 83. 93. 95. 104. 109

99 incense: 21

100 invocation: 18. 90. 94

101 ktistes, cult of: 60. 74

102 lamp: 104

103 lex sacra:see cult regulation

104 libation: 75

105 magic: 5. 18. 46. 50. 51. 94. 114; handbook: 50; historiola: 65; image: 46; signs: 40; words: 3. 46. 65; palindrome: 46; resurrection: 94; simila similibus: 65; vowels: 40; see also s.vv. amulet, defixio, exorcism, gem, imprecation, incantation, phylactery

106 magical papyri: 94

107 manumission, sacred: 119

108 miracle: 36; see also s.v. healing

109 music: 124

110 mystery cult: 36. 55. 109. 115; see also Eleusinian mysteries, initiation

111 myth: 33. 119; foundation myth: 8; reenactment of: 92

112 name, theophoric: 75

113 night: 73. 96; see also s.v. lamp

114 norm, ritual: 34. 53

115 numeral: 23

116 oath: 21. 36

117 oracle: 20. 44. 80

118 orality: 64

119 Orphism: 3. 50. 52. 72. 95. 109

120 paganism in Late Antiquity: 44. 113. 121

121 personification: Aidos: 21; Euporia: 55; Hemera: 21; Mnemosyne: 55; Psithyros: 44

122 phylactery: 72; see also s.v. amulet

123 piety: 21. 36. 83; see also s.v. impiety

Kernos, 27 | 2014 283

124 pilgrimage: 21 (συμπορεύεσθαι). 44

125 politics: 62. 98. 116

126 prayer: 21. 34. 64. 75. 118

127 priesthood: 83. 96. 116; appointment by lot: 21. 105. 129; financial duties: 134; of genos: 105; for life: 55; funds for: 21; iteration: 129; in Late Antiquity: 44; perquisites: 96. 110; ritual expertise: 64; sale of: 21; tax exemption: 135

128 procession: 21. 29. 59. 98. 101. 104. 130; arrangement of: 34. 118. 130

129 punishment, divine: 45. 87. 102

130 purification: 55

131 purity: 21. 87; of the mind: 44

132 Pythais: 55

133 rhapsodes: 33

134 rituals, change of: 34. 53. 59. 83. 98. 118; inroduction of: 34; neglect of: 21; see s.vv. acclamation, banquet, birthday, crowning, cult, dance, drama (sacred), exorcism, festival, hymn, incubation, initiation, incantation, invocation, libation, magic, norm, oath, pilgrimage, prayer, procession, Pythais, rosalia, sacrifice, taurobolium, theoria, vow

135 river-god: 68. 90

136 rosalia: 92

137 ruler cult: 21 (Ptolemy I, Arsinoe II, Nikomedes). 34 (Antiochos III, Laodike). 62 (Antigonos Gonatas). 71 (Berenike Thea, Arsinoe Thea, Kleopatra Thea). 74 (Demetrios Poliorketes, Antigonos Gonatas). 115 (Attalos I)

138 sacrifice: 1. 21. 29. 31. 57. 58. 60. 69. 96. 110. 127. 129. 134. 135; consumption of sacrificial meat at the spot: 21. 110; decline of: 44; glamour of: 21; hekatomb: 21; funds for: 21; raw meat: 96; requested by an oracle: 80; sacrifice to a god in a sanctuary of another: 21; selection of victims: 21; see also s.v. animal (sacrificial)

139 sanctuary: 21; boundary marker: 85. 101. 122; decoration of: 21; federal: 61; funds: 21. 84. 88. 91; network of: 116; order in: 21. 129; protection of: 21. 101; recipient of fine: 21; see also s.vv. account, finances

140 scepter: 102

141 secrecy: 109

142 society: 53. 130; see also s.vv. benefactor, elite, foreigner, women

143 soul: 3

144 statue: 21. 86; decoration of: 21; dressing of: 119; transport of: 44

145 taurobolium: 113

146 temple, dedication of: 76. 90; in Late Antiquity: 44. 47. 121; conversion: 44. 121; destruction: 47. 113. 121

147 theocracy: 116

148 theoria: 21. 101. 110; see also s.v. Pythais

149 throne: 21

150 torch: 96; torch-race: 21

151 treasure-box: 100

Kernos, 27 | 2014 284

152 vow: 22. 25. 48. 55. 64. 87. 90

153 water: 85. 125

154 wedding: 126

155 women: 21. 73. 79. 83. 87. 126

Greek words (a selection)

156 acclamation: εἰς αἰῶνα εὐτυχείτω 114; εἷς θεός 114. 121; εἷς θεὸς μόνος 114 157 afterlife: ἐς τὸν τῶν θεῶν οἴκων ματαβαίνω 21 158 association: ἀρχιγάλλαρος 92; ἀρχικρανεάρχης 92; ἀρχιμαγαρεύς 92; ἀρχιμαγαρεὺς ἀθύτου 92; ἀρχιμύστης 92; ἀρχινεωκόρος 92; ἀρχισυνάγωγος 92; Ἀσιανοί 92; Ἀσκληπιασταί 92; βακχεῖον 92; γαλακτηφόρος 92; δοῦμος 92; δοῦμος Ἀφροδίτης Ἐπιτευξιδίας 92; δροιοφόροι 92; ἐρανισταί 55; ἐριφιασταί 92; θίασος 21. 68. 92. 120; θρησκευταὶ καὶ σηκοβάται θεοῦ Ἑρμανούβιδος 92; ἱεραφόροι συνκλῖται 92; κισταφόρος 92; κοινὸν τῶν συμπορευομένων 21; μαγαρεύς/μαγάρισσα 92; μύστης 92; ναρθηκοφόρος 92; νεβραφόρος 92; νεβρίνη 92; νεωκόρος 68; πατὴρ σπηλαίου 92; πατὴρ συνόδου 68; Περιτιασταί 92; σπεῖρα 92; συνήθεια ἡ ἐπὶ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος 92; συνήθεις τοῦ Ἡρακλέους 92; συνθρησκευταὶ κλείνης θεοῦ μεγάλου Σαράπιδος 92; συνκλῖται Θεοῦ Ὑψίστου 92; τρικλεινάρχης 92; φιλάγαθος 68 159 consecration: καθιερόω 21 160 cult objects, cult paraphernalia: κολοσσός 9; λημνίσκος 21 161 cult officials: ἱερεὺς ἑπτατηρικός 27; πεντάμεροι 119; πεταμνυφάντειραι 119; προφήτης 6; φαιδυντὴς τοῦ Διὸς ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ 55 162 cult regulation: ἱερὸς νόμος 21 163 curse: γένοιτο αὐτῷ πρὸς τὸν φωτιστήραν 90; μὴ ὀνείτω ἐλπίδων, μήτε τέκνων μήτε ὀμάτων μήτε γονάτων 90 164 dedication: ἀπαρχή 55. 69. 98. 101; ἀπάρχομαι 69; ἄργματα 69; δεκάτη 32. 55; ἐπ᾿ ἀγαθῷ τῇ οἰκίᾳ 55; εὐσεβείας χάριν 114; εὐσεβείας εἵνεκεν 114; εὐσεβῶν 114; εὐχήν 55; εὐχὴν ἀποδίδωμι 48; κατὰ κέλευσιν τῶν θεῶν 76; κατὰ χρησμόν 80; κατ᾿ ἐπιταγήν 55; κατ᾿ ὄναρ 103; μνησθῇ 114; σωθεὶς ἀνέθηκα 108; ὑπὲρ σωτηρίας 114; ὑπὲρ τέκνων 114; χαριστήριον 81; χρηματισθείς 103 165 dedicatory object: ἀρεστήρ 55; θρόνος 101; κηρίον 55; πρόσωπον 55 166 epithets (a selection): ἀγαθή 21 (Tyche). 96 (Theos); ἀγαθός 21 (Daimon); ἁγνή 96 (Theos); ἀγυιεύς 122 (Apollo); ἀκραία 92 (Artemis); ἀκραῖος 74 (Zeus); ἄνθιος 96 (Dionysos); ἀνίκητος 123 (Zeus); ἀπότροπος 58 (Poseidon); ἀργής 58 (Poseidon); ἀρίστη 55 (Artemis); ἀρχηγέτης 29 (Hadrian); ἀρχηγέτις 55 (Athena); ἀσφάλειος 21. 58 (Poseidon); ἀφρογενής 55 (Aphrodite); βασιλεύς 21 (Zeus). 80 (Helios); βουλαία 21. 55. 101 (Hestia?); βουλαῖος 21. 55 (Zeus). 29 (Hadrian); βροντῶν 76 (Zeus); δελφίνιος 23 (Apollo); εἰνάλιος 58 (Poseidon); ἐλευθέριος 29 (Hadrian). 61 (Zeus); ἐμβατήριος 29 (Zeus); ἐναγώνιος 21 (Hermes); ἐπήκοος 21. 71 (Aphrodite). 25 (Ares). 55; ἐπιλυσαμένη 24 (Eileithyia); ἐπιτευξιδία 92 (Aphrodite); ἐργάνη 55 (Athena); ἰητρός 23 (Apollo); ἵππιος 58 (Poseidon); καθηγεμών 115 (Dionysos); καλλίστη 55. 96 (Artemis); κάπριος 89 (Dionysos); καρποφόρος 101 (Zeus); καταιβάτης 21 (Zeus); καταχθόνιοι 101 (Theoi);

Kernos, 27 | 2014 285

κτήσιος 21 (Zeus); κυναγίδας 74 (Herakles); κύριος 114 (Zeus); λοχία 87 (Artemis); λευκάτας 89 (Apollo); λύκειος 23. 55 (Apollo); μαιμάκτης 101 (Zeus); μέγας 101 (Dionysos); μέγιστος 114 (Zeus Kanatenos); μειλίχιος 55. 101 (Zeus); ὄμβριος 55 (Zeus); ὀρεία 109 (Meter); ὅριος 21 (Zeus); ὁρομέδων 21 (Apollo); οὔριος 21 (Zeus); πάνδημος 14 (Aphrodite); πανελλήνιος 29 (Hadrian); παντοκράτωρ 123 (Zeus); πατρῶιος 21 (theoi, Zeus). 101 (Apollo). 119 (Zeus); περφερέτας 89 (Zeus); πολιάς 21. 55. 101. 105 (Athena); πολιεύς 21. 55 (Zeus); πύθιος 29 (Hadrian); σμίνθιος 21 (Dionysios); σωσίνεως 101 (Poseidon); σώτειρα 21 (Athena). 55. 58 (Artemis); σωτήρ 21 (Theoi). 21. 27. 122 (Zeus). 115 (Attalos I); τέλειος 55 (Zeus); τεμενοῦχος 58 (Poseidon); τοξοφόρος 23 (Apollo); ὑέτιος 21 (Zeus); ὕψιστος 55. 123 (Zeus); φίλιος 21 (Zeus). 23 (Apollo); φρατρία 55 (Athena); φράτριος 55 (Zeus); φύξιος 21 (Apollo); φωσφόρος 89 (Artemis); χθονία 109 (Demeter); χθόνιος 74. 95 (Hermes); ὡροφόρος 92 (Dionysos) 167 festival: ἀγωνοθετικὸν χρῆμα 14; ἡμέρα 21. 68; πανήγυρις 21. 37; ὑποδοχή 21 168 invocation: ἐνορκίζομαι 90 169 magic: αβρασαξ 46. 66; Ακτιωφι 40; ακραμμαχαμαρι 46; δέω: 65; ἔγερσις σώματος 94; ἔκδικος 94; Ερησχιγαλ 40; ευλαμωι 46; Ιαω 40. 65; καταδέω 65; κατακλίνω 65; μαρμαραωθ 46; πάρεδρος 94; Ραθανεηλ 40; Σαβαώθ 72; 46; στρέφω 65; συνδέω 65; τάσσω 72; φορβα φορβη 3 170 mystery cult: ὄργια κεύθειν 109; ὄργια κρύπτειν 109 171 oracle: λόγιον 80 172 piety: ἱκέτης 76 173 ritual: βοάρσιον 37; δᾶιδα ἵστημι 96; εἰρεσιόνη 55; ἑκατηφορία 37; ἐνκοιμάομαι 21; ἐπιθυμιάω 21; ἐπιτραπέζωσις 96; εὐφημία 34; ἱερῶν προΐστημι 127; κόσμησις 21; καλλιερέω 21; κυνηγέσια 37; λυχναψία 104; λυχνοκαΐα 104; στρῶσις τοῦ θρόνου 96; συμπορεύομαι 21; ὠμοφαγία 96 174 sacrifice: ἐξαγωγή 110; ἔτελος 21; ἐκθύω 21; ἐπαρχή 69; ἐπάρχομαι 69; θυηπολία 80; κατάρχομαι 69; οὐκ ἀποφορά 21 175 sanctuary: ἄβατος (χῶρος) 21; τέμενος 21 176 superstition: ἀνάγκη 3

Bulletin

177 1) D. ACKERMANN, “Un nouveau type de communauté attique. Les pentékostyes du dème d’Aixônè”, in Philologos Dionysios, p. 40–78: The cult regulation from Aixone (ca. 400–375; SEG LIV 214; EBGR 2004, 256; 2010, 1–2) attests for the first time pentekostyes in Attica. In Aixone, they offered sacrifices to heroes, providing the food-stuff for the sacrifice (ὅταν δέ τις πεντη[κ]οσ{σ}τύων θύηι ἐν τοῖς ἡρώ<ι>οις etc.). After review of the evidence for ‘divisions numériques’ in the Greek world (especially in Doric areas), A. proposes to interpret the pentekostyes in Aixone and the triakades in Piraeus (IG II2 1214) as remnants of early civic subdivisions, possibly military in nature. After the reforms of Kleisthenes, such subdivision no longer fulfilled a function as the basis for the organization of the citizen-body and the army, but some larger demes retained them in order to structure their population in a better way; they played a part during sacrificial banquets.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 286

178 2) M. ALONGE, “Greek Hymns from Performance to Stone”, in Sacred Words, p. 217–234: After examining in detail the context of inscribed hymns (the paian of Philodamos and Aristonoos in Delphi, Sophocles’ hymn to Asklepios, the hymn of Palaikastro to Zeus), A. convincingly argues that the hymns were not inscribed in order to aid future performance but to commemorate a particular performance — the composition and first (and only?) performance or a revived performance (Sophocles’ paian in the Imperial period) — or in order to be displayed and reasses local traditions (the re- inscribing of the Palaikastro hymn in the 3rd cent. CE).

179 3) G. ALFÖLDY, “Griechische Inschriften und griechische Kultur in Tarraco”, ZPE 178 (2011), p. 87–125: A. collects the Greek inscriptions of Tarraco and discusses their significance as evidence for the penetration of Greek culture in this city; the texts are now also included in the corpus of Tarraco (CIL II2.14). The texts include a partly metrical epitaph (4 = CIL II2.14.G4); the first lines, τὸ σῆμα τοῦτο σῶμα κρύπτει, alludes to the Orphic-Pythagorean concept of the body (σῶμα) as the grave (σῆμα) of the soul (3rd/4th cent.). A graffito on a wall-fresco has the magical formula φορβα φορβη (12 = CIL II2.14.G12, Imperial period). A gem with the representation of a lion and the inscription ἀνάγκη was interpreted by I. Canós as a magical invocation, by A. as a reference to the fatum, the unalterable fate of humans [to judge from the photo, the represented figure is not a lion but a winged figure with a wreath and a distaff or torch]. A painted inscription on a wall-fresco of the villa of C. Valerius Avitus is read by A. as AΚ Θεία (the name of a Titan; 16 = CIL II2.14.G16); another inscription on the same wall-fresco names the Nemean festival (17 = CIL II2.14.G17: Νέμεια, ca. 150 CE); the finds from the villa show the owner’s interest in Greek culture. [As C. KRITZAS, “A Greek Inscription from Tarraco (CIL II2/14,2 G16)”, ZPE 181 (2012), p. 88–90, has shown, the inscription should be read as Ἄκθεια, i.e. a variant of Ἄκτια; the owner of the villa with the fresco had been a winner at the Aktia and Nemea]. A bilingual epitaph for an imperial freedman (18 = CIL II2.14.G18, late 2nd cent. CE) begins with a Greek acclamation: [- -]ΤΙ φῶς Λιτορίου; Litorius was the freedman’s supernomen. After rejecting the restoration [ἐνθάδε ἔσ]τι (‘here rests the light of Litorius’), A. prefers [ἐμοὶ οὐκέ]τι (‘I no longer have the light of Litorius’; cf. Euripides, Iphigeneia at Aulis 1281f.) [in view of the widespread idea that the deceased became a star (eg. IG XII. 7.123), also attested in the freedmen milieu (e.g. SEG XXXI 846), another possibility would be [φαίνει ἔ]τι φῶς Λιτορίου (‘the light of Litorius still shines’). In this case, the acclamation was not an expression of grief but of consolation].

180 4) W. AMELING, “Der kleinasiatische Kaiserkult und die Öffentlichkeit. Überlegungen zur Umwelt der Apokalypse”, in M. EBNER, E. ESCH-WARMELING (eds.), Kaiserkult, Wirtschaft und Spectacula. Zum politischen und gesellschaftlichen Umfeld der Offenbarung, Göttingen 2011, p. 15–54: Drawing on a large number of inscriptions, A. presents an excellent overview of the various ways in which the imperial cult was visible in the cities of Asia Minor especially. He discusses inter alia the naming of months after emperors, the presence and use of statues of the emperor, the existence of cult associations devoted to the emperor, the private cult of the emperors (domestic altars, prayers, vows, private sponsoring of imperial temples), the civic imperial cult and the occasions for regular and extraordinary celebrations, the ‘provincial’ cult, and the festivals for emperors and their rituals (sacrifices, hymns, orations, venationes, munera). A. stresses that the imperial cult attracted large audiences but did not present a threat to Christianity as is assumed by some studies on the Apocalypse.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 287

181 5) M. ANDREASI, “Implicazioni magiche in Meleagro AP 5.152”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 69–81: With his epigram AP 5.152, Meleager asks a mosquito to go to his lover Zenophila, wake her, and bring her to him. A. recognizes connections with magical practices, elaborating on K. Gutzwiller’s idea that the poem recalls the ‘insomnia spell’ (see EBGR 2010, 73). A. discusses the presence of the same subjects (messenger, flight, whisper, insomnia, sleep, oblivion, erotic rivalry, exortation, reward for bringing someone) in this poem and in magical texts.

182 6) M.-F. AUZÉPY et al., “Campagne de prospection 2007 de la mission Marmara”, Anatolia Antiqua 16 (2008), p. 413–442 [SEG LVIII 1451; An.Ép. 2008, 1311]: Ed. pr. of a building inscription (?) from Prusa ad Olympum (3rd cent. CE; 419f.): Ἀγαθῇ Τύχῃ· | Βαλίτιος Δημήτριος κ(αὶ) Νορβ[α]νὸς Ἀσκληπ̣[- -]|υ θεοῦ προφητεύσαντος Ἀσκλῆ Διονυ[- -]. [The character of the text cannot be determined. It seems that προφητεύσαντος refers to Askles. There are several possibilities for the first part of the inscription. The two dedicants may have been priests or attendants of a god (e.g. [ἱερεῖς et sim. το]ῦ θεοῦ) or they dedicated a building (e.g. [τὸν ναὸν το]ῦ θεοῦ)]. 183 7) A. AVRAM, “Sur quelques noms d’Apollonia du Pont”, in Onomatologos, p. 368–380: Several names known in Apollonia Pontica, such as names in -themis and -mandros, names deriving from religious practices (cf. names in μολπ- connected with the cult of Apollo), and theophoric names (Letodoros), show that the onomastic material was primarily determined by the Milesian origin of the colonists.

184 8) A. AVRAM, C.P. JONES, “An Actor from Byzantium in a new Epigram from Tomis”, ZPE 178 (2011), p. 126–134 [BE 2012, 301–302]: Ed. pr. of a grave epigram from Tomis (ca. 150–200 CE), dedicated to Euelpistos, an actor from Byzantion, who had won dramatic contests in many cities (οὐδ᾿ εἰς <σ>τεφάνους ἀμύητος· ἀλλ᾿ ἐδάην μὲν ἐγὼ κροτάφοις ἐπ᾿ ἐμοῖσι φορῆσαι στέμμαθ᾿ ἅ μοι πόρε Μοῦσα θεὰ κατὰ γαῖαν ἅπασαν). His grave was near a vineyard: ‘I dwell in the tomb, in my own lovely plot, within the flowery plot where the beauteous tendrils of Bacchus (are).’ The first verses make mythological allusions to Byzas, a descendant of Inachos, king of Argos, the father of Io (FGrHist 390 F1), and to Tomos, the eponymous founder of Tomis: Eἰναχίας γαίας προλιπόντι ἐπώνυμον ἄστυ | Εἰόνιον τόδε σῆμα, ἱερὸν πέδον, ἄστυ Τόμοιο (‘ (For me), when I abandoned the city named for the Inachian land, that of Io, this tomb, holy ground, (was) Tomus’ city’) [but G. STAAB, infra no 117, proposes a different reading which makes better sense: Eἰναχίας γαίη̣ς προλιπὼν περιώνυμον ἄστυ | εἰόνιον τόδ᾿ ἔβ̣ην πέδον, ἄστυ Τόμοιο (‘Nachdem ich einst die berühmte Stadt des Inachischen Landes verlassen hatte, kam ich in diese am Meer liegende heilige Ebene, hier, die Stadt des Tomos’); in this reading, the text does not refer to the myth of Io].

185 9) N. BADOUD, “Les colosses de Rhodes”, CRAI (2011), p. 111–150 [BE 2013, 36, 169]: B. discusses the history of the statue of Helios constructed by Chares (ca. 295–283) and destroyed in ca. 227, the alleged attempts to reconstruct it in the Imperial period, the later legends concerning its remains, the sculptor and his work, and the possible appearance of the statue [on this subject, see id., “L’image du colosse de Rhodes”, Mon.Piot 91 (2012), p. 5–40]. In this context, he discusses the various interpretations proposed for the term κολοσσός (p. 123–140) and analyzes the relevant literary and epigraphic sources. He plausibly argues that at the time of the Colossus’ construction, in the 3rd cent., the term designated “un type particulier de statue immobile, destinée à fixer en elle un être qui lui était extérieur”. It was only after the destruction of the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 288

Colossus (ca. 227 BCE) that the word acquired the meaning of an over-sized image. He further argues that this type originates in the Peloponnese and was diffused in the areas of Dorian colonization. An emblem on Rhodian amphora stamps (ca. 235–198), showing a head with sunrays on a long stem, may be a representation of this statue (p. 140–144). B. also republishes a dedicatory epigram from Thespiai, which records the dedication of a kolossos (a statue of normal dimensions) by a victor (athlete or artist?) at the Basileia and the Nemea (I.Thespiai 333; an improved edition: SEG XXIV 362, late 3rd cent.; p. 146–149).

186 10) D. BALDASSARA, “Osservazioni prosopografiche sulle famiglie messenie dalla dinastia flavia al III secolo d.C.”, in La cité et ses élites, p. 119–144: Continuing her studies on elite families in Messene in the Imperial period [cf. EBGR 2010, 11], B. examines the family relations between prominent Messenians who occupied important offices or were honored for their services. In this context she examines the prosopography of men who occupied religious offices during the Flavian dynasty (priest of Zeus Ithomatas, agonothetes, hierothytai, chaleidophoros, priestess of Artemis Limnatis, priest of Apollo Korythos; p. 125–129) and several families, whose members excelled in public activities occupying offices in the city and the province in the 2nd and 3rd cent. CE, including religious offices (hierothytai, agonothetai, priests).

187 11) M. BĂRBULESCU, L. BOZOIANU, “Inscriptions inédites et révisées de la collection du Musée d’Histoire Nationale et d’Archéologie de Constantza. II”, Pontica 43 (2010), p. 347– 376: Ed. pr. of a dedication found at Valea Seacă (area of Tomis), probably addressed to the Nymphs (p. 361–367 no 7, 2nd cent. CE).

188 12) V. BARDANI, “Ψήφισμα Πυλίων”, in P. VALAVANIS (ed.), Ταξιδεύοντας στὴν κλασικὴ Ἑλλάδα. Τόμος πρὸς τιμὴν τοῦ καθηγητῆ Πέτρου Θέμελη , Athens, 2011, p. 197–203: Ed. pr. of an honorific decree of the Pylians for a man from Messene (Messene, 1st cent.). The inscription was set up in the sanctuaries of Athena Koryphasia in Pylos and that of Messene in Messene. The honorand was to be crowned at the Dionysia in Messene and in all the other festivals in Achaia (ἐν ταῖς λοιπαῖς παναγυρίο[ις ταῖ]ς ὑπαρχούσαις ἐν Ἀχαΐαι) in that year.

189 13) F. BATTISTONI, “Time(s) for Tauromenion: The Pilaster with the List of the Stratagoi (IG XIV 421) — The Antikythera Mechanism”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 171–188: B. examines the evidence provided by the Antikythera mechanism for the calendar of Tauromenion (p. 182–184). He observes that the correct form of a Tauromenian month hitherto read as Λάνοτρος (IG XIV 427 and 429) is Λανοτρόπιος. The sequence of the months of Tauromenion is known; six of them are the same as the months of the calendar used in the mechanism [marked with an asterisk]; the remaining six months have different names [we give the names of the corresponding month in the mechanism in parenthesis]: Artemisios*, Dionysios (Psydreus), Hellokios (Gameilios), Damatrios (Agrianios), Panamos*, Apellaios*, Itonios (Phoinikaios), Karneios*, Lanotropios*, Apollonios (Machaneus), Duodekateus*, Eukleios*. It seems that both calendars had intercalary months, Eukleios in the mechanism, Apellaios in Tauromenion. B. suggests that months with the same name corresponded to different months of the solar year. [When calendars have only small similarities and are of different origins, it can be expected that homonymous months hold different positions in the solar year; not in calendars so closely related as the calendar of the mechanism and that of Tauromenion; see also infra no 26].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 289

190 14) V. BERETI, F. QUANTIN, P. CABANES, “Histoire et épigraphie dans la région de Vlora (Albanie)”, REA 113 (2011), p. 7–46 [BE 2012, 36]: The authors study the history and topography of the area of the gulf of Vlora (Aulon) in southern Illyria, collecting the relevant epigraphic evidence (including some inedita, mainly epitaphs). The most important epigraphic finds are from Ploçe (Amantia) and its area. Three inscriptions concern the cult of Aphrodite Pandemos (p. 23–25 nos 10–12). The cult is attested through two dedications (SEG I 265; L.M. UGOLINI, Albania Antica I, Rome-Milan, 1927, p. 195 no 16; 1st — 2nd cent.) and a building inscription recording repairs in an Aphrodision (UGOLINI, op. cit. p. 195f. no 17; 2nd cent.). Another inscription from this area (p. 26f. no 13) is only know from an inaccurate copy made by S. ANAMALI, Iliria 2 (1972), p. 91 (cf. BE 1973, no 261). The text is a decree of the council referring to the account (λογισμός) of the agonothetes who had organized a festival of Zeus. The agonothetes, Nikaios, reported that he had received from Lysanias, a benefactor, an amount for this festival: ἔφησεν ὁ ἀγωνοθέτης [τοῦ] Διὸς εἰληφέναι παρὰ Λυσα[νίου] τοῦτο καὶ τῆς Λυσανίου ἐπιστολῆς περιεχούσης [the authors’ translation is inaccurate: ‘l’agonothète de Zeus a dit avoir reçu cette somme de Lysanias et le message de Lysanias le concernant’; correct: ‘the agonothetes of Zeus stated that he had received (a sum) from Lysanias, and this is (also) the content of Lysanias’ letter’]. The council approved of an undetermined request submitted by the sponsor (κυρίαν εἶναι τὴν [ἀ]ξίωσιν; [ἀ]ξιώνειν in Anamali’s copy). It seems that the sponsor had pointed out that he had provided most of the money for the festival (ἐπειδὴ τὸ ἀγωνοθετικὸν χρῆμα αὐ[τ]ὸς ἐχαρίσατο), whereas Nikaios had only spent 600 denarii, as was written in his account; Lysanias had also distributed olive oil (καὶ μόνα ἀναλυ[θ]ῆναι ὑπὸ Νεικαίου ἐν τῶ [λο]γισμῷ γεγραμμένα δη[ν]άρια ἑξακόσια· ἐνημύστοδε [νε]νημένον ἔλαιον ἐκ τῆς [Λυσα]νίυ δωρεάς). [This text requires corrections. First, ἀναλυ[θ]ῆναι must be corrected to ἀναλω[θ]ῆναι, and [νε]νημένον to [νε]μημένον. Second, ἐνημύστοδε is an impossible reading. I suspect that the stone had δη[ν]άρια ἑξακόσια ἕν ἥμυσι· τὸ δὲ [νε]μημένον ἔλαιον: ‘601 1/2 denaria; as for the distributed oil from the donation of Lysanias, etc’. That the council approved of Lysanias’ request implies a conflict between Nikaios and Lysanias, possibly for the credit of having organized the agonistic festival.] Finally, there is a dedication to Poseidon and Amphitrite (SEG XXXIX 553; p. 28f. no 15). In Treport, a stamped tile with the inscription ΑΘΑΝΑΣ (SEG XXXII 621; p. 41f. no 35) possibly attests the existence of a temple of Athena (Ἀθάνας).

191 15) B. BERKAYA, S. ISAGER, P. PEDERSEN, “The Stadion of Ancient Halikarnassos”, in P. PEDERSEN (ed.), Halicarnassian Studies V, Odense, 2008, p. 137–155 [SEG LIX 1201]: The authors present fragments of inscribed blocks from the stadion of Halikarnassos (late Hellenistic). The text, probably a dedication made by a certain Philokles, is very fragmentary. It may have been a dedication to Herakles and Hermes.

192 16) S. BERTI, “La dedica degli Ateniesi per la vittoria su Beoti e Calcidesi del 506 a.C. (IG I3 501) e la data del suo ripristino”, Aevum 84 (2010), p. 7–40 [BE 2011, 177]: B. discusses in detail the literary and epigraphic tradition concerning the dedication made by the Athenians on the Acropolis after their victory over Boiotians and Chalkidians (506 BCE). After its destruction by the Persians in 480 BCE, the monument was re-erected and the dedicatory epigram re-inscribed, with changes in the sequence of the verses. Various dates have been proposed for the re-dedication (457, 454, 446, or 431 BCE). Considering the political context, B. endorses the view that the renewal of the dedication was made after the victory of the Athenians at Oinophyta in 457 BCE. Cf. id., ‘The Athenian Victory

Kernos, 27 | 2014 290

Over the Boeotians and the Chalkidians (506 B.C.) in the Light of the Epigraphical Findings’, AHB 24 (2010), p. 3–23, for a discussion of the historical context.

193 17) G. BEVILAQUA, “Due nuovi amuleti contro il mal di testa e altre malattie da Capua”, Orizzonti 12 (2011), p. 37–49: After an introduction to amulets used for healing purposes, B. presents two new phylacteries written on silver sheets (Capua, 4th/5th cent.). The first text, written in bad Greek invokes the Christian God against evil spirits, diseases, especially headaches, and fearful appearances: ἐν ὀνόματι Κυ(ρίου) Θεοῦ τοῦ ΙΣ (= Ἰησοῦ) Πα(τρός), ἐξ{Ξ}ορκίζου σην πᾶν πνεῦμα πονηρὸν κὲ πᾶ(σαν) νόσον καὶ πᾶν ἔνδυαλμα (= ἴνδαλμα) φόβου καὶ ποιρίου (= πυρίου) τοῦ βίου πάσχοντι ἰς κεφαλαργίας (= κεφαλαλγίας) κὲ πληγῆς, τὸν ἀδωνέον (= ἀϊδώναιον) ΕΥΙΕΟΝ ἰς τὸν ῥήμματος ἐξ{Ξ} ελτῖν (= ἐξελθεῖν) ἀπὸ δῖνα ὅτι δοῦλος Κυ(ρίου) σὺν καὶ τῶν ἀνγέλων αὐτοῦ· ὄνομα Κρήσκης. [As we may infer from the use of δῖνα, the owner of the phylactery, Cresces, was copying a formula, in which he should have replaced δῖνα with his own name]. The second phylactery consists of a sheet rolled within a bronze cylinder. The provenance is unknown (kept in the Archaeological Museum in Naples) but the similarity of content with the phylactery from Capua (e.g. πᾶν ἔνδαλμα φόβου, ἀδ[ωνέ]ον ΕΥΙΕΟΝ, etc.) suggests the same provenance.

194 18) G. BEVILACQUA, G. VALLARINO, M. CENTRONE, A. VIGLIONE, Scrittura e magia. Un repertorio di oggetti iscritti della magia greco-romana, Rome, 2010 [BE 2012, 67]: This volume presents a representative collection of inscribed objects related with ancient magical practices (defixiones, love magic, protective magic, invocations, exorcism, divination). After two introductory essays by BEVILACQUA, who discusses ancient magical objects and the connections between magic and writing (p. 13–20), the largest part of the volume is dedicated to magical practices (‘la magia applicata’, p. 21–82), in accordance with a typology of inscribed magical objects proposed by VALLARINO. He distinguishes between ‘semplici supporti’ (objects of metal, stone, selenite, clay, papyrus, wood, linen, and parchment) and ‘oggetti autonomi’ (‘voodoo dolls’, nails, jewels, pendants, lamps, tintinnabula, various divinatory devices, pinakes, vases, boxes, books). For each category examples are presented (Greek text and Italian translation). Additional essays cover the following subjects: the writing of magic (by BEVILACQUA, p. 83–85); making words invisible (by VALLARINO, p. 87–94); the layout of the inscribed text on the object, i.e. lists, columns, arrangement of words in the shape of objects, use of images, etc. (by CENTRONE, p. 95–117) [cf. EBGR 2010, 43]; images in magical text (by VIGLIONE, p. 119–131). This selection of essays and a large number of representative objects is an excellent introduction to the study of magic.

195 19) L.H. BLUMMEL, “A Gold Lamella with a Greek Inscription in the Brigham Young University Collection”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 166–168 [BE 2012, 73]: Ed. pr. of a gold lamella, probably originally from Palestina, where similar objects have been found (Imperial period). The text addresses the deceased with the formula θάρσει, οὐδεὶς ἀθάνατος. The text offered consolation or, rather, gave courage to the deceased individual in his underworld journey [why not both? Such phrases may originate in acclamations during the funeral].

196 20) P. BONNECHERE, “Oracles and Greek Mentalities: The Mantic Confirmation of Mantic Revelations”, in Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity, p. 115–131: B. discusses the interesting phenomenon of Greeks, both publicly and privately, seeking to confirm an oracle or sign through additional divinatory consultation. Such cases, attested by literary and epigraphic sources include the request of Agesipolis to Apollo in Delphi to confirm an

Kernos, 27 | 2014 291

oracle of Zeus in Olympia (Xenophon, Hellenika 4.7.1–3; Aristotle, Rhetorika 1398b; for a manipulation of an oracular response cf. IG II2 204); multiple consultations of the same oracle; the waiting of favorable signs prior to the consultation of an oracle; the confirmation of signs by other signs (IG IV2.1.122 B13); the reception of repeated signs and prophetic dreams; repeated oracles (e.g. I.Magnesia 16) [cf. EBGR 2007, 134]; massive appearances of epiphanic dreams (I.Didyma 495).

197 21) D. BOSNAKIS, K. HALLOF, K. RIGSBY, Inscriptiones Graecae Insularum Maris Aegaei praeter Delum. Fasciculus IV. Inscriptiones Coi, Calymnae, Insularum Milesiarum. Pars I. Inscriptiones Coi Insulae. Decreta, epistulae, edicta, tituli sacri, Berlin, 2010 [BE 2011, 472; 2013, 334]: Hardly any other place in Greece, with the exception of Attica, offers so many inscriptions of religious interest as Kos. The publication of the first part of the corpus of the Koan inscriptions, which assembles the known texts, often with improved readings and restorations, and adds some new ones (marked with an asterisk), should, therefore, be greeted as a great contribution to the study of Greek religion; it has already been exploited by S. PAUL, Cultes et sanctuaires de l’île de Cos, Liège, 2013. The first volume (the second appeared in 2012) presents 423 texts: decrees (1–206), documents concerning the asylia of the sanctuary of Asklepios (207–245), letters (246–263), senatus consulta and edicts (264–273), documents of religious content (274–396), and altars (397–423). We do not summarize the content of many texts that have already been presented in EBGR 1993/94, 219 (IG XII.4.78–80, 122, 166, 269, 290–291, 350–354), EBGR 1998, 111 (IG XII.4.70, 93, 123, 143, 148, 176), EBGR 2001, 139 (IG XII.4.81, 94, 294–295), EBGR 2003, 18 (IG XII.4.69), EBGR 2004, 140 (IG XII.4.91, 95, 358), and EBGR 2008, 20 (IG XII. 4.254–257). Cult regulations: Most cult regulations (‘leges sacrae’) and similar texts (regulations concerning the sale of priesthoods) have been included in F. Sokolowski’s Lois sacrées (LSCG 150 A = 283; 150 B = 284; 151 A = 277–278; 151 B = 274; 151 C = 276; 151 D = 275; 152 = 285; 153 = 282; 154 = 72;155 = 71; 156 = 332; 157 = 332; 158 = 288; 159 = 286–287 [two copies of the same text]; 160 = 318; 161 = 325; 162 = 311; 163 = 330; 164 = 342; 165 = 281; 166 = 326; 167 = 327; 168 = 293; 169A-C = 280; 170 = 359; 171 = 349; 172 = 303; 173 = 103; 174 = 365; 175 = 356; 176 = 333; 177 = 348). Several texts have been presented in EBGR 1993/94, 219 (80, 334–339, 343, 345–347, 350–353, 367–368, 379–382), 2001, 139 (81, 294–295), and 2004, 140 (91, 358, 364). We only summarize new texts and texts not included in the aforementioned publications. A small fragment, written by the same mason as LSCG 158 (cult regulation concerning Asklepius’ temple), possibly concerns the establishment of the Asklepieia (289, ca. 242 BCE). One recognizes the dedication of an object [a phiale?] to Asklepios; prayers to be made by the priest and the hierokeryx (ἐν ταῖς ὥραις ἀεὶ εὐχέσθω ὁ ἱερ[εὺς - - - κα]ὶ ὁ ἱεροκάρυξ ὑγίειαν καὶ σωτηρία[ν - -]); the establishment of an athletic and musical contest (ἀγῶνα δὲ τιθέτω [- - - μουσι]κὸν καὶ γυμνικόν). Another section refers to the protection of the sanctuary and its purity (ἀσεβῆι καὶ βιάζεται παρὰ τὰ γεγραμμέ[να,--- Ἑλλά]νων καὶ βαρβάρων καθαρῶι καὶ [- - - κε]κοιμῆσθαι κατὰ τὸς νόμος… [- - -] φόνου καὶ ξίφ[ου - -]) [since the text concerns the Asklepieion, where incubation was practiced, [ἐν]κοιμῆσθαι might be more appropriate than [- - - κε]κοιμῆσθαι]. No other city has such a large group of regulations concerning the sale of priesthoods (296–324; cf. *383); they have been summarized in EBGR 1993/94, 219; 2001, 139; and 2005, 20. In two cases, inedita present further copies of already known sales of priesthoods: that of Homonoia (*324, early 1st cent.; the other copy is earlier, dating to the 2nd cent.: 315) and that of Hermes Enagonios (*331; two further copies: 298 and 307). Two new fragments do not contain the name of the priesthood (*300, *313). From Kos we have detailed evidence

Kernos, 27 | 2014 292

for the agonistic and religious life of the gymnasion (see EBGR 1993/94, 219 and 1994/95, 143). To this evidence, the corpus adds a new small fragment with regulations concerning contests, processions, and sacrifices in the gymnasion (*292, ca. 150 BCE; cf. 298 and 308); an interesting detail is the mention of Δαλιάδαι, i.e. choruses of girls to be sent to Delos [I. RUTHERFORD, infra no 110, p. 673f. with note 72, distinguishes between the Daliadai and the ἀγρεταί, group of women possibly with an initiatory dimension]. A fragment deals with order in the sanctuary (*340, ca. 150 BCE). It stipulates that there should be light and incense on the altars ([ὅπως ἦι φῶς ἐπὶ τῶν β]ωμ[ῶν καὶ ἐπιθυμιῆται]) [probably not light but fire: e.g. [ὅπως ἦι πῦρ]]; fines should be paid for acts of injustice under responsibility of the hierophylakes; animals caught pasturing in the sanctuary should be sacrificed. Another small fragment provides instruction for the appropriate crowning [of statues or altars?] (341, 2nd cent.). Numerous small fragments (370–378, 383–384, 386–390) do not provide significant information; one only recognizes references to sacrifices (*370, *387, *389) and gods (Zeus Soter and Athena Soteira: *370; Asklepios: *371, *378; Dionysos: *389). Three important texts provide information for the religious life in the Koan demes and civic subdivisions. An octagonal column, inscribed on five sides, contains the festive calendar of the deme of the Phyxiotai on three of its sides (279 A-C, 3rd cent.). Hardly anything is preserved on side A. Sides B/C list sacrifices that were to be offered on specific days, as follows: 1) Anonymous month (Petageitnyos?): on an unknown day, to an unknown goddess, a grown goat; to Athena, a grown goat and another grown animal; 12th day, to Apollo a grown victim, to Epione a goat, to Dionysos a kid or a he-goat or a grown sheep on the altar of the Symmachidai. 2) Kaphisios: 12th day, to the hero in Pylai, grown victims not selected by the priest; the meat should be consumed at the spot (οὐκ ἀποφορά); a procession took place (πορεύονται); 13th day, to Dionysos, a he-goat or a grown sheep; 14th day, to Dionysos Sminthios, in the sanctuary of Herakles, a kid. 3) Artamitios: 20th day, to Hekate in Alenta, a sheep, a pig; to Zeus Horios, a he-sheep, grown ewes; to Apollo Horomedon, a kid; to Apollo Phyxios, a kid, an obeliskos, a goat; in the sanctuary of Herakles, to Apollo Phyxios, a kid; to Dionysos, in the sanctuary of Herakles, a kid; to Hermes, a yearling kid, grown goats; 25th day: to Zeus Soter, a grown victim; to Athena Soteira, a yearling, on the same altar; to Hekate, a pig. 4) Agrianios: 15th day, to the Hero in Pylai, a grown lamb, with procession, consumption at the spot; 22nd day: to the Hero in Amaxitos, the same offerings; 25th day: to the Hero in Nasiota, a lamb; 27th day: to the Hero in an anonymous place, an undetermined sacrifice. The calendar breaks with the beginning of Hyakinthios. The ‘sacred law’ of the tribe of the Elpanoridai (νόμος ἱερὸς φυλᾶς Ἐλπανοριδᾶν) in Halasarna (*357, 3rd cent.) lists its rituals. During meetings of the tribe a cult official (archeuon) offered a sacrifice of sheep; the information about the appointment of a priest is not preserved. The back side contains the proposal of a man concerning sacrifices (θεωρῶν τεμένη μὲν ὑπάρχοντα καὶ βωμός, θυσίας δὲ μὴ γινομένας, σπεύδων πᾶσι τοῖς πατρ[ώι]οις θεοῖς καλλιερεῖν ἀκολούθως τᾶ[ι] τῶν ἀστῶ[ν κ]αὶ τῶν φυλετᾶν ποτὶ τ[ὸς] θ[ε]ὸς ε[ὐσεβεί]αι - - ὃν συνέγραψεν - -) [in fine, the subject of συνέγραψεν must be νόμον; I also use the lower case for πατρῶιοι θεοί because this is not a divine name but a general reference to all the ancestral gods of the Elpanoridai: ‘as he saw that there are precincts and altars but no sacrifices take place, eager to offer sacrifices to all the ancestral gods in accordance with the piety of the citizens and the members of the tribe - - he proposed a law’]. The rest of the text is too fragmentary to make sense, but it is clear that it is concerned with funds for a priesthood ([ἁ] τᾶς ἱερωσύνας πόθοδ[ος

Kernos, 27 | 2014 293

πο]τιγένη[τ]αι). A decree of the deme of Isthmos (100, 2nd cent.) praises Aristokreon for donating money to be used for sacrifices to the Theoi Patroioi. A two-day feast (ὑποδοχά) took place on 25 and 26 Hyakinthios; any violation of the terms of the endowment was punished with a fine of 1000 drachmai, payable to the Theoi Patroioi. The official responsible for the festival (ἀρχεύων) provided a he-goat and a λημνίσκος (wooven fillet) for the boys, who competed in a torch-race. The rest of the document (or another document pertaining to the same cult) is written on the back of the stele. In the fragmentary text one recognizes references to the funding of a sacrifice in the month Hyakinthios, to a panegyris, the election of epimenioi, activities on 9 Agrianios and in Artamitios, a fine of 1000 drachmas payable to the Theoi Patroioi, and financial stipulations. Cults: A large group of altars (397–423) evidences the variety of cults in Kos [we note the existence of many shared altars; for this phenomenon see EBGR 2010, 144]: Helios, Hamera (sc. ἡμέρα), Machaon, Hekata (397); the Agathos Daimon and the Agathe Tyche of a man and a woman (*398); Helios and Hamera (*399); Zeus Basileus (400); Hygieia (*401); Podaleirios (402); Aidos (403); Eileithyia (404); Zeus Patroios (405); Apollo, Asklepios, Herakles, the Dioskouroi, Helios, Hamera; Horai, Charites, Nymphs, Priapos, Pan, Hermaphroditos, Zeus Philios, Theoi Soteres, Hermes Probakchos, Peitho, Nikeros (‘Προβάκχου et Νικέρωτος epitheta nova’) [Nikeros is not an epithet of Peitho but (like Anteros) an aspect of Eros]; Zeus Nemeios, Poseidon Isthmios, Athena Nike, for commemorative rituals for two men (406: μνάμας Ἡρακλείτου καὶ Οἰνοπίδα); Zeus Soter and Athena Soteira (407); Poseidon Geraistios (408); Asklepios and Hygieia (409); (Zeus) Ourios (410); Zeus (411); Zeus Kataibates (412), Aphrodite Epekoos and Nike (413); Zeus Ktesios and Zeus Ourios (415); Zeus and Athena Lindia (416); Claudius Caesar Poseidon Asphaleios (417); Demeter, Plouton and Kore (418); Hadrian (419); Hygieia (420); Apollo Pythios (421); and Zeus Soter (422–423). Sanctuaries and sacred property: Many inscriptions refer to the erection of inscribed stelai in the sanctuaries of Apollo, Asklepios, Herakles, and near the altar of Dionysos, and in Kalymnos in the sanctuary of Apollo Dalios, but we do not list them for reasons of space. 14 new fragments can be added to the dossier of decrees and royal letters recognizing the asylia of the Asklepieion (207–245) but their authors cannot be determined (*219, *229, *233–234, *236–245). Four fragments deal with sacred money (73, 96, 361–363). A list from Halasarna contains the names of men and women who were allowed to participate in a deme’s cult (104, 2nd cent.). A fragmentary text mentions the sanctuary of Apollo in Halasarna (*111). An inscription records the dedication of land, gardens and buildings to the cult of the Twelve Gods and the hero Charmylos (355, late 4th cent.). One of the most interesting inscriptions is a dossier of documents concerning the arbitration of Kos in an internal conflict in Telos (132, ca. 300). Part of the conflict concerned ἱεραὶ δίκαι. The Koan arbitrators decided that the defendants in a lawsuit concerning the sanctuaries of Athena and Demeter (Ἀθάναιον, Δαμάτριον) should provide victims (a bull, a ram, an ewe) to the hekatomb that was to take place in the year of the monarchos Threagoras. Two defendants in public lawsuits were obliged to restore the altar of Asklepios. After a lacuna, the verdict continues with fines for violations of the verdict; fines by the treasurers and the hieropoloi were to be paid to Zeus Polieus and Athena Polias. The dossier concludes with an oath of the Telians, who obliged themselves to preserve the constitution and the amnesty. Festivals: Many texts refer to the announcement of honors during festivals (Pentaeteric or Megala Asklepieia, Dionysia, Rhomaia) but we do not list them for reasons of space. Foreign decrees found in Kos also mention this practice: in Erythrai honors were announced at the Dionysia

Kernos, 27 | 2014 294

and the Seleukeia (162, early 2nd cent.), in Bargylia in the agon for Artemis Kindyas (178). The decrees of Kos concerning the celebration for the defeat of the Gauls (68) and the recognition of the Leukophryena (90), the Nikephoria of Pergamon (251), and the Didymeia (153–154) were already known. A fragmentary decree (*83, 2nd cent.) refers to a successful theoria sent to another city and the offering of sacrifices to a goddess with the epithet Boulaia [Hestia?], Zeus Boulaios, another god [Apollo?], and Artemis. A decree of the deme Antimacheia praises two hierotamiai for their successful efforts in increasing the funds available to the priest and the hieropoioi for sacrifices to the gods in accordance with the hiera diagrapha and for the annual feast (ὑποδοχαί) of the demesmen; they also provided funds to the other demoteleis priests and priestesses (102, ca. 190 BCE). A decree, again of Antimacheia (*105, 2nd cent.), honors an individual for his services in the local cults; he conducted the sacrifices (ἐξέθυσε) to Apollo and Demeter in accordance with a decree; he took care of the decoration of a sanctuary and a statue ([κ]οσμήσιο[ς το]ῦ ἀ[γά]λματος καὶ τοῦ ἱεροῦ); he did something pertaining to a pentaeteric celebration; he increased the funds of Apollo. Antimacheia also honored an archeuon for the generous performance of sacrifices (110, 2nd cent.: τάς τε θυσίας ἐξέθυσε τοῖς θεοῖ[ς] μεγαλομερῶς) and a feast (πο[η]σά[με]νος αὐτῶν καὶ τὰν ὑποδοχὰν φιλοδόξως καὶ ε[ὐνοϊκ]ῶς); the stele with the decree was set up near the ‘ancestral altars’ (πάτριοι βωμοί) to serve as an exemplum to future archeuontes. Halasarna honored a man who increased the deme’s revenues, was appointed priest (of Apollo?) by lot (λαχὼν ἱερεύ̣[ς]) and distributed the meat of a sacrificial ox ([τὰ] κρέα τοῦ βοό[ς]; 116, 1st cent.) [an improved edition of EBGR 2004, 140 no 7]. A deme honored a man for his efforts for the performance of sacrifices according to the ancestral custom; the decree was set up in the sanctuary of the Theoi Patroioi (106, 2nd cent.). Rituals: An honorary decree for the doctor Philippos of Kos reports that he was sent by king Ptolemy III (?) to Kos together with other theoroi in order to bring a sacrifice to Asklepios and the other gods (31). A document concerning the restoration of the homopoliteia of Kos and Kalymnos details the procedure of the oath ceremony (152). Cult officials: Decrees of Halasarna were proposed by the napoiai (109, 117). Ruler cult: A very fragmentary letter by a Ptolemy (III?) mentions sacrifices, Arsinoe (II?), and a panegyris; it may be connected with a festival in Alexandria (249). A fragmentary regulation concerns the cult of Arsinoe (290). An honorific decree for Naxian judges mention a sacrifice offered to Ptolemy Soter (135, ca. 280 BCE). A fragmentary text (PH 8 = 61, 2nd cent.) concerns the cult of a ruler, possibly Ptolemy V or VI; the decree refers to the dedication of an equestrian statue and of other images, it mentions a gilded throne, and the consecration of a sacred place (line 11: [τ]ὸν χῶρον ἄβατον καθιερῶ[σαι]). A fragmentary decree (of the gerousia?) concerns the imperial cult (*128, late 2nd cent. CE); one recognizes a reference to an imperial image (line 8: εἰκόν[ος]). A small fragment provides instruction for the establishment of a festival (ἁμέρα) for King Nikomedes I or II (344). Associations: There are two decrees of the Dionysiac artists (120, 124) and a letter of Sulla granting them privileges (252). A decree of the κοινὸν τῶν συμπορευομένων παρὰ Δία Ὑέτιον honors two voluntary (αὐταπάγγελτοι) epimenioi, who ‘conducted the sacrifices to Zeus and renewed the sacrifice of Zeus and made the feast of the demesmen and all the others’ (τά τε ἱερὰ ἐξέθυσαν τῶ[ι] Διὶ καὶ ἀνενεώσαντο τὰν θυσίαν τοῦ Διὸς καὶ τὰν ὑποδοχά[ν ἐ]ποήσαντο τᾶν δαμοτᾶν καὶ τῶν ἄλλων πάντων); the inscription was erected near the altar of Zeus (121, ca. 200). A fragmentary decree of an association (θίασος) invites

Kernos, 27 | 2014 295

those who wished to contribute to a sanctuary to make contributions for amounts of no less than 100 drachmas, (*125). Foundations: The private endowments for cultic purposes include the well-known foundations of Diomedon (LSCG 177 = 348), Pythion (LSCG 171 = 349), and Pythokles (350), a foundation for a man’s deceased child (351), an endowment concerning an exedra and a contest in memory of a man’s son (353), and a similar endowment (354) as well as an endowment for the cult of Asklepios and the Emperors (352). Afterlife: We mention the use of the phrase ἐς τὸν τῶν θεῶν οἴκων μεταβαίνω (61 line 4, 2nd cent.) as a metonym of death. Varia: A decree concerning warships (72, 205/4 BCE), attests the practice of decorating their prows with divine images (l. 12–15: τοὶ τριάραρχοι τοὶ αἱρημένοι ἐ[σπεμ]ψάντω ἐπ᾿ αὐτὰ ὁ μὲν τὸ πρ[ύμνας πρόσωπο]ν Ἡρακλεῦς, ὁ δὲ τ[ὸ πρόσωπον Ἀσκ]λαπιοῦ). 198 22) S. BRACKMANN, “Ein Votivtäfelchen mit einer ungewöhnlichen Weihinschrift für Zeus”, ZPE 178 (2011), p. 221–222 [BE 2012, 77]: Ed. pr. of an inscribed bronze tablet in the form of a tabula ansata, probably from Asia Minor (Imperial period). The object has a dedicatory inscription addressed to Zeus Kraouandaseon in fulfilment of a vow [it seems to be the label for a dedication, not a dedication itself].

199 23) B. BRAVO, “Una tavoletta d’osso da Olbia Pontica della seconda metà del VI secolo a.C. (SEG XXXVI, 694): Apollo di Didyma e la nascità di Olbie polis”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 99– 119 [BE 2012, 309]: B. presents a very significant contribution to the better understanding of a puzzling text from Olbia (SEG XXXVI 694; IGDOP 93) which has been interpreted in the past as an oracle, a hymn, and a text connected with Orphism. According to B. the text of side A reads: ἑπτά, λύκος ἀσθενής. ἑβδομήκοντα, λέων δεινός. ἑπτακόσιοι, Τοξοφόρος Φίλιος δωρεῇ, δυνάμι Ἰητρός. ἑπτακισχίλιοι, Δελφὶς φρόνιμος. εἰρήνη Ὀλβίῃ πόλι. μακαρίζω σε. μέμνημαι αἰεί. The new readings are Φίλιος δωρεῇ, δυνάμι Ἰητρός and μακαρίζω σε. μέμνημαι αἰεί (‘Seven, the wolf is weak. Seventy, the lion is terrible. Seven hundred, the archer is friendly through his gift, through his power he is a healer. Seven thousand, the dolphin is prudent. Peace for Olbia. I regard you blessed. I always remember’). In B.’s interpretation, the tablet with the text belonged to a member of an association in Olbia devoted to Apollo’s cult; it has nothing to do with Orphism. The text implies three individuals. He assigns the phrase μέμνημαι αἰεί to the owner of the tablet; the second individual is Apollo, who gives his oracle (ἑπτά… μακαρίζω σε); the third individual is the recipient of the oracle, i.e. the Milesian founder of Olbia. The text reflects the various stages of Olbia’s foundation and development, under the patronage of Apollo Lykeios, Apollo Ietros, and Apollo Delphinios. The expression νικηφόρος Βορέω on side B refers to Apollo’s assistance in the defense of Olbia from Skythian attacks.

200 24) A. BRUGNONE, “Le sferette bronzee iscritte da Himera”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 77–94: Small bronze spheres found in the sanctuary at Piano in Himera (late 5th cent.) are sometimes inscribed with divine names. The word ἐπιλυσαμένας in an ineditum should be understood as an epithet of Eileithyia. The already published spherulae are inscribed with the names of Zeus Soter, Herakles, and Leukathea in the genitive. B. plausibly suggests that these objects were used in some form of divination (cleromancy).

201 25) H. BUJUKLIEV, M. KAMIŠEVA, “Novootrit Posvetitelen Nadpis ot Avgousta Trayana”, Studia Classica Serdicensia 1 (2010), p. 409–413 [non vidimus; see N. SHARANKOV, An.Ép. 2010, 1458]: Ed. pr. of a dedication to Ares Saprenos ἐπήκοος in fulfillment of a vow (Augusta Traiana, 3rd cent. CE).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 296

202 26) P. CABANES, “Le mécanisme d’Anticythère, les Naa de Dodone et le calendrier épirote”, Tekmeria 10 (2011), p. 249–260: The inscriptions of the Antikythera mechanism, which became visible after its cleaning (see SEG LVI 392), provide important information for the Epirotan calendar and the agonistic festival of the Naia of Dodona. Since the Naia are mentioned along with the major contests of the periodos, the mechanism dates to the period between the promotion of the Naia to a crown- awarding agon (ca. 192) and the Third Macedonian War (167 BCE). The agon took place in the second year of the Olympic pentatereris, i.e. in the year after the Olympic Games and immediately after the Nemea, which were celebrated in the early summer. The mention of the Naia together with the great panhellenic contests shows that the mechanism was created in a place near Dodona, probably in one of the Corinthian colonies, perhaps by a scholar from the school of Archimedes. The month names that appear on the mechanism cannot yet be attributed to a specific city; but they certainly belong to the calendar of a Corinthian colony in Epirus or its vicinity. The month names on the mechanism (Artemisios, Psydreus, Gamelios, Agrianios, Panamos, Apellaios, Phoinikaios, Kraneios, Lanotropios?, Machaneus, Dodekateus, Eukleios) have great similarity with the months attested in south Illyria and Epirus. The place of Dodekateus between Machaneus and Eukleios shows that Dodekateus was not an intercalary month but the 11th month of the year. As regards the month that had been read as Λ[Α]ΝΟΤΡΟΠ[Ι]ΟΣ, C. recognizes a corrupt form of the month Ἁλιοτρόπιος attested in Epidamnos, Apollonia, and Bouthrotos. The first two letters were reversed (ΑΛ to ΛΑ), and what was read as a N may be an H (ΛΑΗΟΤΡΟΠΙΟΣ for ΑΛΙΟΤΡΟΠΙΟΣ) [it is possible that the engraver conflated two different months: Ἁλιοτρόπιος and Λανοτρόπιος; the latter is attested in Tauromenion (see supra no 13)]. The month Δ?????? (cf. theατύιος (cf. the Macedonian Daisios?), attested in Dodona in the early 4th cent. and possibly connected with the cult of Dionysos, no longer existed at the time of the mechanism, probably because it had been replaced by Agrianios. C. suggests the following correspondences between the months in the mechanism and the months of the Epirotan year, which started in February/March (in case of divergences, the name in a parenthesis is the one attested in Epirotan inscriptions): 1) Artemisios; 2) Psydreus; 3) Gamelios; 4) Agrianios; 5) Panamos (Phoinikaios); 6) Apellaios (Haliotropios); 7) Phoinikaios (Kraneios); 8) Kraneios (Panamos); 9) Lanotropios (Apellaios); 10) Machaneus; 11) Dodekateus/ Deudekateus; 12) Eukleios. [This result is not convincing because too many months with the same name appear in different sequence in the two calendars. Since the mechanism is the product of technical sophistication and astronomical research, its sequence of months must be trusted. For this reason, the arguments used by Cabanes in the past to determine the sequence of the months in the Corinthian/Epirotan calendar (see EBGR 200, 37) should be revisited. It is noteworthy that C. TRÜMPY, Untersuchungen zu den altgriechischen Monatsnamen und Monatsfolgen, Heidelberg, 1997, p. 163, has proposed a radically different month-sequence (p. 155–164). See supra no 13].

203 27) F. CAMIA, “Lykos, Son of Hermolaos, hiereus heptaeterikos of the Sebastoi. Emperor Worship and Traditional Cults at Thessalian Hypata (SEG 54, 556)”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 145–154 [BE 2012, 254]: An inscription from Hypata (SEG LIV 556; EBGR 2003, 188) honors the general of the Thessalian koinon, Lykos, who served twice as ἱερεὺς ἑπτατηρικὸς τῶν Σεβαστῶν καὶ Διὸς Καραιο[ῦ] and twice ἱερεὺς τῶν Σεβαστῶν καὶ Διὸς Σωτῆρος καὶ Ἀθηνᾶς. C. proposes an early date for this inscription, in the late 1st cent. CE (not 2nd cent. CE), since the priest did not have the title of ἀρχιερεύς. The

Kernos, 27 | 2014 297

designation of the priest as ἑπτατηρικός indicates that he served during the celebration of a sextennial festival (cf. the term ἀρχιερεὺς πενταετερικός in Side), and he may have stayed in office for the entire period of the heptaeteris (i.e. a total of 12 years). This sextennial festival of the imperial cult, celebrated in connection with the cult of Zeus Karaios, was different from the annual festival of the imperial cult (Sebasta); it may have had the character of a festival of the Thessalian Koinon. The designation of Lykos’ priesthoods show that the imperial cult was connected with traditional cults in Hypata, the cult of Zeus Karaios and the cults of Zeus Soter and Athena.

204 28) F. CAMIA, “Spending on the agones. The Financing of Festivals in Roman Greece”, Tyche 26 (2011), p. 41–76 [BE 2012, 132]: C. gives an overview of the types of festivals in Roman Greece, the expenses connected with them, and the various ways through which the expenses were covered (public spending, agonistic foundation, private funding, donations of benefactors).

205 29) F. CAMIA, Theoi Sebastoi: il culto degli imperatori romani in Grecia (Provincia Achaia) nel secondo secolo D.C., Athens/Paris, 2011: C. studies the cult of the emperors of the Antonine dynasty in Greece, which is primarily attested through inscriptions. He collects the evidence for the cult of Trajan in Athens and Hermione (as Zeus Embaterios); of Hadrian in Athens, Eleusis (Theos Panhellenios), and other places of Achaea; of Sabina (as neotera Theos?, i.e. Demeter or Kore); of Antoninus Pius in Athens and Sparta; and of Marcus Aurelius, Lucius Verus, and Commodus (p. 25–83). The cultic activities and celebrations in connection with the imperial cult followed the model of the traditional civic festivals and included sacrifices, processions, and contests. C. discusses the evidence for contests dedicated to the emperor in Athens and the Peloponnese, and especially the ephebic contests in Athens in connection with the imperial cult (Hadrianeia, Antoneia, Philadelpheia, Kommodeia; p. 85–131). Finally, C. discusses the high priests of the imperial cult in the cities and the Achaian, Boiotian, and Thessalian koina (p. 133–188), the association of the emperors with traditional cults and cult places (p. 189–228), and the imperial cult in the koina of Greece (p. 229– 242; on 236–242, discussion of the thorny issue of whether the archiereus of the Hellenes/helladarches can be considered as a provincial high priest). In a series of tables, C. collects the epigraphic evidence for dedications to emperors and members of the imperial family (p. 249–269), divine and honorific epithets of emperors (Trajan: Theos, Zeus Embaterios; Hadrianos: Archegetes, Boulaios, Neos Dionysos, Neos Pythios, Olympios, Theos, Zeus Eleutherios; Antoninus Pius: Theios, Zeus Eleutherios and Olympios; p. 270–274), agonistic festivals for emperors (Athens: Sebasta, Hadrianeia, Olympia, Panhellenia, Germanikeia, Antoneia, Philadelpheia, Epinikia, Kommodeia, Kaisareia; Corinth: Kaisareia/Isthmia; Sikyon: Kaisareia; Epidauros: Kaisareia/ Asklepieia; Argos: Sebasteia/Nemea; Sparta: Kaisareia, Olympia Kommodeia; Lykosoura: Kaisareia/Lykaia; Akraiphia: Megala Ptoa Kaisareia; Thespiai: Sebasteia Mouseia, Kaisareia Erotideia Rhomaia; Thebes: Kommodeia Dionysia Herakleia; Hyampolis: Megala Kaisareia; Kaisareia in Gythion, Messene, Patrai, Lebadeia, Tanagra, and Chalkis; Sebasteia in Hypata, Echinos, and Demetrias; p. 274–278), municipal high priests (p. 278–282), and high priests of the Achaian, Boiotian, and Thessalian Koinon (p. 282– 283).

206 30) E. CERBO, “Il peana eritreo: layout e versificazione”, in Epigrammata — Susini, p. 221– 249: C. discusses the metrical structure and epigraphic layout of a hymn to Asklepios, which is preserved in four copies, in Athens, Dion, Eryrhrai, and Ptolemais (FURLEY-

Kernos, 27 | 2014 298

BREMER, Greek Hymns II p. 160). She observes that dactylic and iambic verses were combined; the poem continues the tradition of cultic songs; in the performance, the soloist and the chorus alternated; the layout on the stone is connected with the poem’s structure; one observes a development from a monostrophic structure (repetition of the same strophe three times) to the sequence of three similar but not identical strophes.

207 31) C. CHANDEZON, “Particularités du culte isiaque dans la basse vallée du Céphise (Béotie et Phocide)”, in Philologos Dionysios, p. 149–182 [BE 2013, 211]: C. examines the votive reliefs related with the cult of the Egyptian gods from Boiotia and Phokis. The reliefs on an altar with manumission records of slaves dedicated to Sarapis and Isis in Orchomenos (IG VII 3200–3204)and an inscribed altar from Chaironeia (IG VII 3308) attest the sacrifice of deer in the cult of the Egyptian gods; this practice also existed in the sanctuary of Isis in Tithorea (Pausanias 10.32.13). Literary sources and archaeological evidence from Kalapodi suggest that this practice may have been influenced by the cult of Artemis. C. collects further evidence for this type of sacrifice in the Hellenistic and Imperial period.

208 32) A. CHANIOTIS, “Phaistos Sybritas. An Unpublished Inscription from the Idaean Cave and Personal Names Deriving from Ethnics”, in Onomatologos, p. 15–21 [BE 2011, 484]: Ed. pr. of a dedicatory inscription engraved on a cauldron from the Idaean Cave (ca. 550– 500 BCE): Παῖστος | ἀνέθηκε | Συβρίτας | τὰν [δ]ε[κ]άτ̣α̣ν (‘P(h)aistos, son of Sybrita, dedicated this tithe’). The dedication was made by Phaistos, son of Sybrita, as a tithe (from war booty? from agricultural produce or trade?). Both Phaistos’ name and that of his mother reflect connections with cities around Mt. Ida, not far from the sanctuary, where he brought his dedication.

209 33) A. CHANIOTIS, “‘The Best of Homer’: Homeric Texts, Performances, and Images in the Hellenistic World and Beyond. The Contribution of Inscriptions”, in E. WALTER-KARYDI (ed.), Homer: Myths, Texts, Images: Homeric Epics and Ancient Greek Art. Proceedings of the 11th International Symposium on the Odyssey, Ithaca, September 15–19, 2009, Ithaca 2010, p. 257–278: In the Hellenistic and Imperial periods we may observe a trend towards a fragmentation of Homeric poetry: the separate performance of parts of the epic poems, the perception of sequences of verses as epigrams, mythological compilations, the use of selected passages in education, presentation of Homeric scenes by pantomimes, the selection of individual hexameters and their use as answers to oracular enquiries (Homeromanteion) [on the Homeromanteion see also A. KARANIKA, “Homer the Prophet: Homeric Verses and Divination in the Homeromanteion”, in Sacred Words, p. 255–277], and the use of Homeric verses as proverbial sayings. Since Homer’s poetry was in a sense the voice of the Muses, it could easily be elevated above the status of ‘normal’, mortal poetry. Zosimos, a worshipper of Theos Hypsistos in Phrygia, declared in an epigram that he “wrote whatever the mortals need on a folded tablet with spiritual writings and Homeric verses, predicting the future for the wise” (SEG XLIII 945, 3rd cent. CE). Zosimos’ text was not a collection of gnomic wisdom, but a collection of Homeric verses used as oracular responses. Performances by rhapsodes and their participation in agonistic festivals continued in the Hellenistic period, although they were not as popular as other forms of entertainment, competition, and spectacle [see also EBGR 2010, 2006].

210 34) A. CHANIOTIS, “Dynamic of Emotions and Dynamic of Rituals. Do Emotions Change Ritual Norms?”, in C. BROSIUS, U. HÜSKEN (eds.), Ritual Matters: Dynamic Dimensions in

Kernos, 27 | 2014 299

Practice, London, 2010, p. 208–233: Rituals are emotionally loaded occasions, in which the spontaneity of emotions may collide with the normative power of rituals. As rituals may intensify pre-existing tensions, it occasionally occurred that festivals and other celebrations were disturbed by violent events. A study of cult regulations shows that the close observation of emotional responses to rituals was one of the factors that led to the modification of pre-existing rituals or even to the creation of new ones. Ritual practices (εὐφημία, acclamations, abstinence from food and sex, etc.) aimed at creating the proper emotional frame for a celebration (e.g. LSAM 81) but also at manipulating the emotions of gods and other supernatural powers (prayers, magical prayers). Some of the measures in cult regulations, such as prohibitions against the wearing of see- through clothes, expensive jewelry, and weapons, measures for order and against drunkenness, rules concerning the arrangement of processions, or prohibitions against the presence of traitors in sanctuaries or the participation of an adulteress in a mystery cult, diminished the danger of tensions caused by envy, anger, hatred, pride and other emotions (e.g. LSAM 6, 20, 58, 61; LSCG 51, 59, 60,65, 83, 94, 124, 173; E. LUPU, Greek Sacred Law. A Collection of New Documents, Leiden, 2005, nos 5, 14 and 22). Emotional excesses in funerals were one of the reasons for the introduction of strict limitations concerning funerary rituals (e.g. LSCG 77; LSAM 16; LSCG Suppl. 64). The emotional response to the death of benefactors or prominent citizens introduced a new ritual: the population seized the corpse and transformed the private funeral into a public event (I.Knidos 71) [see EBGR 2006, 26; 2007, 30 bis]. The experience of extreme violence during civil war led to the introduction of elaborate rituals for the establishment of concord (e.g. measures after the civil war in Nakone: LUPU, ibid. no 26) [on this subject see now A. CHANIOTIS, “Normen stärker als Emotionen? Der kulturhistorische Kontext der griechischen Amnestie”, in K. HARTER-UIBOPUU, F. MITTHOF (eds.), Vergeben und Vergessen? Amnestie in der Antike. Akten des ersten Wiener Kolloquiums zur Antiken Rechtsgeschichte, Wien, 27.-28.10.2008, Vienna, 2013, p. 47–70]. New rituals were also introduced in order to display the gratitude of a city towards a benefactor (new rituals in Teos for Antiochos III and Laodike: SEG XLI 1003; EBGR 2007, 31].

211 35) A. CHANIOTIS, “Festivals and Contests in the Greek World”, in Thesaurus Cultus et Rituum Antiquorum VII, Los Angeles, 2011, p. 1–43 and 160–172: This general introduction to the main features of Greek festivals (definition, general characteristics, program, funding, officials, order, preparation, socio-political aspects, historical development, dynamics) draws primarily on the epigraphic evidence. Five festivals are summarized as case studies: Thesmophoria, Hyakinthia, Daidala, the festival of the Great Gods in Andania (LSCG Suppl. 65), and the Demostheneia of Oinoanda (SEG XXXVIII 1462).

212 36) A. CHANIOTIS, “Emotional Community through Ritual. Initiates, Citizens, and Pilgrims as Emotional Communities in the Greek World”, in Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean, p. 264–290: Emotions were an inherent feature of every Greek festival, and various media were applied to arouse the desired emotions in and among the participants. This study is devoted to a specific kind of emotionality which can best be observed in the Hellenistic and Imperial periods: the conscious arousal of emotions that aimed to construct a close relationship between the cult community and the divinity. ‘These emotions shaped the cult community as an “emotional community”, that is, a community of people who were expected to feel the same emotions (hope, fear, anger, affection, pride, etc.) in the worship of a deity.’ Cult communities were ‘emotional

Kernos, 27 | 2014 300

communities’ in more than one sense: the emotions of hope and fear dominated their relation to gods; emotions were excited by rituals; communication with divine powers had an emotional background; and specific emotions were connected with the cult of particular gods. Selected case studies illuminate these aspects: the measures taken by a Roman magistrate in order to create the proper emotional atmosphere for the celebration of a victory of Caius Caesar in Messene (SEG XXIII 206, 2 CE); the establishment of emotional community through the shared emotional experience of initiation (cf. Apuleius, Metamorphoses 11; Firmicus Maternus, De errore profanarum religionum 23.5; the Isis praise from Maeoneia: I.Thrac.Aeg E205; P.Oxy. XI.1382; Lucian, Alexander 38); the creation of a bond of affection between the Ephesians and their Artemis in the Imperial period (LSAM 31 = I.Ephesos 24; I.Ephesos 27 A lines 12f.; SEG XLIII 756; cf. the attribute philartemis); and the emotional interaction among the worshippers of the Mother of the Gods at Leukopetra during her festival (I.Leukopetra 3, 35, 39, 47, 53, 63, 65, 69, 78, 90, 153) and among the pilgrims to the Asklepieion in Rome (IGUR I 148; cf. Aelius Aristides, Hieroi Logoi 2.21). The means through which the construction of an emotional community was enhanced included priestly proclamations (e.g. LSCG Suppl. 91), acclamations (cf. EBGR 2010, 37), and the publications of textual and visual narratives of miracles (e.g. SEG XLIII 435; LIII 1344; LVII 1186; cf. SEG XXX 1480). The impact of inscriptions increased when they were embedded in rituals, esp. in oath rituals (e.g. TAM V.3.1539). The creation of such emotional communities did not apply to all cults and religious practices but characterized cults with soteriological aspects (mystery cults), civic cults that forged identity, and cults that were based on the personal experience of the worshippers with divine power. Originally limited to mystery cults, in the Imperial period this kind of emotionally-loaded faith characterizes cult communities beyond the exclusive circles of the initiates and the devotees of monotheistic religions. The worshippers of the ‘Highest God’ (Theos Hypsistos) were known by a name that unequivocally designated them as an emotional community: thesosebeis, ‘those who fear god’.

213 37) A. CHARAMI, “Fêtes et concours au gymnase de Tanagra”, CRAI (2011), p. 853–873 [SEG LIX 492]: C. publishes a stele from Delion (territory of Tanagra) inscribed with the names of ephebes and officials of the gymnasium (ca. 222–235 CE). Two similar inscriptions in the Museum of Chalkis (IG XII Suppl. 646; OMS II 1275–1281) and in the Museum of Thebes (IG VII 2450; OMS II 1390–1393) must be pierres errantes from Tanagra. The list, inscribed upon the initiative of the gymnasiarchos and kosmetes, contains the names of ephebes, probably belonging to two or three age classes (ca. 18–20 years); they were divided into two sections (tagmata), each under an ephebe who served as a tagmatarches. The gymnasiarchos reports that he had provided olive oil in the month Kaisarios, on the occasion of all the ancestral festivals (πάτριοι ἑορταί) and the ephebic contests as well as in the festival of the Kynegesia (σύν τε τῇ πανυγήρει τῶν Κυνηγεσίων). C. interprets the Kynegesia as venationes [but venationes were parts of the celebration of the imperial cult and not independent events that can be characterized as a panegyris; perhaps this festival was connected with the cult of a hunter-deity, e.g. Artemis, Herakles, or Orion (see below)]. Ephebes also occupied offices connected with religious and agonistic activities (the priest of the imperial cult, the priest of the ephebes, the ἑστιάτωρ, i.e. supervisor of the banquets, and the agonothetai). The new text provides important information for the religious and agonistic life in Tanagra. 13 agonothetai, recruited from among the ephebes were responsible for eight agones. There were three agonothetai for the Delia, which must have been the most important

Kernos, 27 | 2014 301

contest [perhaps with events on three days, with one agonothetes responsible for each day]; the son of the gymnasiarchos served among the agonothetai for this contest. There were two agonothetai for three contests: on the birthday of the emperor, for the enigmatic Hekatephoria, and for the boarsion, i.e. the carrying of an ox for a certain distance, a contest attested in Athens and Rhodes (IG XII.1.102). The agon περὶ ἀλκῆς, which was probably connected with the cult of Herakles, the Hermaia, the military contest προσδρομαί, and the enigmatic δίξεστος were under the responsibility of one agonothetes each. The new inscription does not mentions three contests mentioned in the other two lists from Tanagra: εἰς Αὐλίδα, εἰς Μυκαλησσόν, and Ὠρειόνια. The agonistic culture in Tanagra shows a certain prosperity in this period and the effort of the citizens to preserve a local identity. Some of the ephebic festivals celebrated in Tanagra are also attested for Athens; it seems that the ephebic institutions of Tanagra followed the Athenian model. D. KNOEPFLER, ibid., p. 867–871, comments on the importance of the new find. He suspects that the omission of two ‘lieux de mémoire’, Aulis and Mykalessos, is due to the fact that the ephebes did not visit these sites every year. The festival Ὠρειόνια, perhaps the contest for the hero-hunter Orion, was connected with the festival Kυνηγέσια. With regard to the Ἑκατηφόρια K. excludes any connection with Hekate and suspects that the name of the festival derives from the divine epithet Ἑκατηφόρος (‘porteur au loin’), i.e. Hermes Kriophoros. J.-L. FERRARY, ibid., p. 871–873, observes that the emperor mentioned in line 17 may be Severus Alexander or Gordian III. The month Kαισάριος (line 58) must have been the first month of the year, as in Asia, and this explains why the gymnasiarch offered olive oil during this month. The introduction of this month in Tanagra must be attributed to a decision of the city. The mention of 13 agonothetai explains why in an inscription from Klaros, commemorating a delegation from Kyme (144 CE), four or five of the six members of the chorus are designated as ἀγωνοθέται: the chorus consisted of the scions of élite families.

214 38) K. CLINTON, N. DIMITROVA, “Maroneia Honors Q. Lutatius Catulus in Samothrace”, in O. PALAGIA, B.D. WESCOAT (eds.), Samothracian Connections. Essays in Honor of James R. McCredie, Oxford, 2010, p. 185–192: Ed. pr. of a dedication from the sanctuary of the Great Gods in Samothrace (ca. 80 BCE). The city of Maroneia dedicated a statue of Q. Lutatius Catulus (the consul of 78 BCE) to the Theoi Megaloi, probably for services rendered during the Mithridatic War.

215 39) K.M. COLEMAN, “Exchanging Gladiators for an Aqueduct at Aphrodisias (SEG 50.1096)”, Acta Classica 51 (2008), p. 31–46: In a recently published letter of Hadrian from Aphrodisias (SEG L 1096; EBGR 2001, 152), the emperor asks the city to reconsider the claim of some citizens that they were unable to carry the financial burden of the high priesthood and approves of the proposal to allow high priests to make cash payments toward the construction of an aqueduct instead of organizing gladiatorial contests. C. argues that this proposal originated in nominees for this priesthood, who were reluctant to assume the traditional liturgy of sponsoring gladiatorial games because of its high cost.

216 40) O. COLORU, “Old and New Magical Inscriptions”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 135–138: C. presents a new edition of a defixio allegedly from the necropolis of Olbia, now in a private collection (ca. 350–300 BCE; SEG L 702; EBGR 2001, 175). The text consists of 8 names. C. recognizes remains of magical signs on the lead tablet. He also presents the ed. pr. of an amulet in the form of a prism (5th cent. CE). The four sides have a

Kernos, 27 | 2014 302

representation of Anoubis with staff or kerykeion and the name Ιαω (A), the number 19 (ιθ) followed by the name Ραθανεηλ, and a sequence of vowels (B-C), and an invocation of the Babylonian goddess Ereschigal (Ακτιωφι Ερησχιγαλ; D). 217 41) N. CORFÙ, R. WACHTER, “Eine böotische Scherbe mit Graffito”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 141– 144: Ed. pr. of an inscribed fragment of a Boiotian kantharos (ca. 450–400 BCE), now in the Collection of the University of Basel. The graffito on the vase is a dedication to Apollo (τὀπέλον̣[ι]). The vase’s provenance is either Thebes or, more probably, the sanctuary of Apollo Ptoios in Akraiphia.

218 42) E. CSAPO, P. WILSON, “Le passage de la chorégie à l’agonothésie à Athènes à la fin du IVe siècle”, in L’argent dans les concours, p. 83–105 [BE 2011, 240]: The last attestation of choregoi in Athensdates to 319 BCE, the first attestation of agonothetai to 306; consequently, the abolishment of the choregia is usually attributed to Demetrios of Phaleron. An inscription from Acharnai (SEG XLIII 26B), which honors an epimeletes in charge of the Dionysia in 315 BCE, has been regarded as evidence for the abolishment of choregia early in Demetrios’ rule. The authors argue that the presence of an epimeletes in the deme does not prove the existence of an agonothetes in the city already at that time; Menander’s Samia implies the existence of choregia until the time of the work’s composition (ca. 315–309); choregoi are attested in Aixone until 313 BCE (SEG XXXVI 186) [but C. FEYEL, BE 2011, 240, points out that this date has been moved to 340/39 by D. Ackermann in an unpublished study]; the agonothesia for the Panathenaic festival cannot have started earlier than 310 BCE. They argue that the inscription from Acharnai attests procedures used in a period of transition from the one system to the other. They also assign to this process of transition an honorific decree for Nikostratos for his contribution to the Dionysia (IG II2 551 = SEG XXIV 109, 318/7 BCE). They argue that the ἐπιμέλεια exercised by Nikostratos covered the music contests of the Dionysia. ‘Le décret nous apprend qu’il détient une épiméleia, laquelle inclut des relations avec des chorèges’ (p. 95). They assume that Nikostratos was appointed as special epimeletes for the Dionysia earlier than 318 BCE, when the regime of Demetrios tested the model of a single administrator of the contests. In this interpretation, the choregia continued to exist until 310 BCE. [From the expression διατελεῖ περ[ὶ τὸν ἀγῶνα τὸν Δι]ονυσίων φιλοτιμο[ύμενος καὶ περὶ τ]ὴν αὐτοῦ ἐπιμέλεια[ν] does not follow that Nikostratos, who was not a citizen, had an ἐπιμέλεια, a ‘responsabilité exercée à titre officiel’. He only offered services pertaining to the ἐπιμέλεια. Cf. C. FEYEL, BE 2011, 240, who also observes that the date (318 BCE) is not certain]. The authors collect evidence for the part played by foreigners in the funding and administration of the Athenian theater in the second half of the 4th cent.

219 43) A. DALE, A. ELLIS-EVANS, “A Cypriot Curser at Mytilene”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 189–198: The authors republish three defixiones from Mytilene (4th/3rd cent.; SEG XLVIII 1055– 1057; EBGR 1998, 136). On the basis of linguistic features, they argue that they were written by a Cypriot with a period of residence among Aeolic speakers. The context may be a legal conflict or problems connected with the integration of an immigrant in a foreign place.

220 44) G. DELIGIANNAKIS, “Late Paganism on the Aegean Islands and Processes of Christianisation”, in Late Antique Paganism, p. 311–345: D examines the latest evidence for pagan worship in the provincia Insularum (3rd-6th cent.). Although there is a decline in inscriptions displaying piety towards the traditional gods after ca. 260 CE, the physical condition of temples deteriorated, and blood sacrifice was dramatically

Kernos, 27 | 2014 303

restricted, there are indications of continuing cult activity. In the sanctuary of Athena Lindia, a podium temple near the north corner of Athena’s temple may be identified with either the temple of Psithyros (I.Lindos 484) or that of the imperial cult; during the 3rd cent. CE members of elite families supported the cults and assumed priesthoods; there are also purity regulations that give emphasis to the purity of the mind (LSCG Suppl. 91, 139) and, around 300 CE, elaborate dedicatory epigrams by the priest Aglochartos mention the renewal of the sacred olive grove (I.Lindos 496, 498; IG XII. 1.779). Statues of Athena Lindia decorated the senate in Constantinople and the collection of Lausus, chamberlain to Theodosius II; their removal may be connected with the closure of the cult (late 4th cent. CE?). The Heraion of Samos is the best documented late Antique sanctuary. The evidence includes epigrams dedicated to Hera that mention repairs of the temple and the pilgrimage of a governor to the Idaean Cave (IG XII.6.584 and 610); governors were honored through dedication in the sanctuary (IG XII.6.585, 605–607); Julian’s accession was hailed with enthusiasm (IG XII.6.427). A statue of Hera was transferred to Lausus’ collection in the late 4th cent.; the temple was converted to a Christian basilica after ca. 450 CE. In Patmos, the cult of Artemis was supported by the priestess Vera (SEG XXXIX 855, 4th/5th cent. CE?), who performed the traditional sacrifice of a pregnant she-goat, possibly in defiance of anti-pagan legislation. Archaeological evidence from the sanctuary of Apollo and Herakles in Halasarna on Kos indicates pagan activity after the destruction of the temple. In connection with temple conversion, D. adduces an inscribed oracle of Apollo that predicts the conversion of a temple into a church of Mary (IG XII.6.1265) and archaeological evidence from Naxos (temple-church at Gyroula) and Kalymnos (conversion of the temple of Apollo Dalios). There is no evidence for systematic Christian iconoclasm.

221 45) A. DELLI PIZZI, “Impiety in Epigraphic Evidence”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 59–76: Impiety (ἀσέβεια) is mentioned in two types of inscriptions: in legal texts in which the violation of a norm would make the violator ἀσεβής (ἀσεβὴς ἔστω, ἀσεβείτω, ἔνοχος ἔστω ἀσεβείᾳ; e.g. IG XII.4.1.283; LSCG Suppl. 90; LSAM 16) and inscriptions referring to legal prosecution of individuals for impiety, usually for serious offences (IG I3 426; IG II2 1635; I.Ephesos 2). The formula ἀσεβὴς ἔστω should be considered as a deterrent, informing a violator that in the future he might face the consequences (divine punishment, exclusion from a cult).

222 46) F. DEMIRKÖK, “Four Inscriptions Discovered in the Marmaray Excavations”, in U. KOCABAŞ (ed.), Istanbul Archaeological Museums. Proceedings of the 1st Symposium on Marmaray-Metro Salvage Excavations, 5th-6th May 2008,Istanbul, 2010, p. 161–174: Ed. pr. of a very interesting dedication (late 1st cent.) found during the construction of the Istanbul subway. It is a statuette representing Kybele on her throne, flanked by two lions and with a lion on her lap. A dedicatory inscription is on the base. C. Lollius Cato and his slaves dedicated the δίκτυον χειμερινόν (winter fishing net) in the year in which Poseidon held the eponymous magistracy of basileus (probably in Byzantion); the name of the recipient of the dedication was written on the missing part of the base (Poseidon?). This dedication is paralleled by the dedication of a Hellenistic stele with a representation of Kybele to Poseidon and Aphrodite Pontia by fishermen and farmers in Kyzikos. Another Hellenistic votive stele from Parion mentions a diktyarches (the man in charge of the nets; L. ROBERT, “Inscriptions de l’Hellespont et de la Propontide”, Hellenica IX, Paris, 1950, p. 81, 94–97). The dedication’s background is a fishing practice

Kernos, 27 | 2014 304

in the Bosporus: the use of fixed nets in order to catch migrant fish. The winter fishtraps were dedicated at the end of the season. D. also presents two fragmentary lead tablets (p. 169: ‘curse tablets’; 4th/5th cent.). On one of them D. recognizes a palindrome and the drawing of a woman rising from a ship, with her arms raised like the claws of a crab; on the reverse, there is the drawing of a demon with animal head and human body, surrounded by magical words ‘thought to be astrological’. Images (a naked figure, two tables), palindromes, and magical words are also engraved on the second tablet. [As one sees in the drawing, the palindrome αβλαναθαναλβα (twice) and the magical word ακραμμαχαμαρι are repeated, each time with the last letter omitted, so that the three inscriptions have the form of triangles. The word ευλαμωι is repeated in the same manner under one of the tables; it is found both on curses (e.g. SEG LVII 1985) and on gems (e.g. SEG LVII 2051). Under the other table one reads φρξ | μάστιξ | ιαβα|σβυθ. One also recognizes the magical sign, which appears on gems in connection with Chnoubis and Solomon (e.g, EBGR 2000, 215; 2008, 28). D. reports that also μαρμαραωθ and αβρασαξ are written on the tablet, but they are not in the drawing. A more detailed study of these objects will probably reveal more].

223 47) J.H.F. DIJKSTRA, “The Fate of the Temples in Late Antique Egypt”, in Late Antique Paganism, p. 389–436: The archaeological, epigraphic, and papyrological evidence for the decline of temples in Late Antique Egypt does not confirm the stories of violent temple destruction narrated by Christian literary sources. Temples were more often used as “quarries” than converted into Christian churches. A weakening of their financial foundation was often responsible for their decline. Regional studies are necessary for a differentiated and reliable picture.

224 48) N. DIMITROVA, K. CLINTON, “A New Bilingual Votive Monument with a ‘Thracian rider’ Relief”, in Studies Tracy, p. 55–61: Ed. pr. of a votive relief with the Thracian Rider God, now in a private collection, probably from Thrace (Imperial period). A bilingual inscription records that the dedication was made by a slave in fulfilment of a vow (Felicio C. Menani ser(vus) votum solvit pro se. Φηλικίων Γαΐου Μενανίου δοῦλος εὐχὴν ἀπέδωκεν ὑπὲρ ἑαυτο̣ῦ̣. 225 49) T. DREW-BEAR, A. IVANTCHIK, “Honneurs à Apamée pour Proclus Manneius Ruso”, in L. SUMMERER, A. IVANTCHIK, A. VON KIENLIN (eds.), Kelenai — Apameia Kibotos. Développement urbain dans le contexte anatolien, Bordeaux, 2011, p. 281–293 [BE 2012, 409]: Ed. pr. of three inscribed bases of statues for Proclus Manneius Ruso, a benefactor of Apameia (late 2nd cent. CE); a fourth base was already known (IGR IV 791). The four statues of Ruso had been erected in different locations within the city. The inscription lists his services, one of which is of interest with regard to the imperial cult. Ruso was sent as envoy to the emperors (probably during the reign of Marcus Aurelius) ‘and succeeded in receiving (permission) for the gifts of the high priests’ (πρεσβεύσαντα πρὸς τοὺς Σεβαστοὺς περὶ τῶν συμφερόντων πραγμάτων καὶ ἐπιτυχόντα τὰς παρὰ τῶν ἀρχιερέων φιλοδοξίας/φιλοδοσίας). The eds. rightly observe that the high priests in question are not those of Asia but the local priests of the imperial cult. Ruso probably acquired through his embassy permission for the organization of munera (φιλοδοξίαι) by the high priests.

226 50) C.A. FARAONE, “A Socratic Leaf Charm for Headache (Charmides 155b-157c), Orphic Gold Leaves, and the Ancient Greek Tradition of Leaf Amulets”, in Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity, p. 145–166: In Plato’s Charmides Socrates describes a remedy for headache that combines the application of a leaf and the singing of an incantation; he attributes

Kernos, 27 | 2014 305

this procedure to Thracian healers, and explains that the pain should also be treated with incantations. F. argues that the background of this procedure is provided by the Orphic gold leaves of the late Classical or early Hellenistic period, which were ivy- shaped and inscribed with hexametrical verses (see texts from Pelinna, Aigion, Elis, and Pella: SEG XXXIV 338; XXXVII 497; XLI 401; XLII 619; LII 470/471). With regard to two texts from Hipponion and Petelia, F. favors the reading Μνημοσύνης τόδε θρῖον and recognizes here a reference to a large leaf (‘this is the leaf of Memory. Whenever he is about to die, let him write this on a golden tablet and carry it’). The text of Petelia was found worn as an amulet by its final owner, who had inherited it as heirloom; the owners of this leaf must have thought these verses to mean that they would protect the owner when his life was in danger. Therefore, the extant Orphic leaves had the same range of therapeutic and eschatological powers as Socrates’ combination of leaf and incantation. In the Roman period, leaf amulets with prophylactic and healing properties were often recommended by magical handbooks. Interestingly, the earliest leaf amulet invokes a Dionysian myth about the Thracian king Lykourgos.

227 51) C. FARAONE, “Hexametrical Incantations as Oral and Written Phenomena”, in Sacred Words, p. 191–204: The oral performance of hexametrical incantations is an early phenomenon attested through literary sources. E.g., in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter 227–230, Demeter boasts about her knowledge of protective magic; these verses (esp. the expression οὔτ᾿… δηλήσεται οὔτε) are very similar with the text of later inscribed amulets. The amulets do not derive from the hymn but rather the hymn’s poet draws on an existing popular tradition. The variety of content and wording suggests that the individual healer had the freedom to adapt an incantation to specific needs. Such incantations were widely diffused from the late Classical period on. Also Aristophanes, Amphiaraus fr. 29 ed. K.-A. seems to be a parody of a hexametrical incantation (cf. Euripides, Cyclops 646–648). By the end of the Classical period hexametrical incantations begin to be treated as written performances as well. The efficacy of the text lies solely in its physical presence as an inscribed text [cf. supra no 50]. However, the oral performance of hexametrical incantations continued.

228 52) F. FERRARI, “Oral Bricolage and Ritual Context in the Golden Tablets”, in Sacred Words, 205–216: F. asks whether we should respect epichoric versions of the texts on the Orphic tablets or whether we should try to reconstruct an original model. After examining differences between selected tablets, he rejects the existence of a fixed archetype. E.g., the justaposition of two versions of what expects the deceased initiate in the underworld reveals the co-existence of two incompatible concepts: the concept of the initate as a fellow (Hipponion: ἄλλοι μύσται καὶ βάκχοι) and that of the initiate as a ruler (Petelia: μεθ᾿ ἡρώεσσι ἀνάξεις). Instead of attempting to reconstruct an archetype, F. proposes to look for a more flexible model, a ‘paleotype’, that accounts for the wide range of common traits without suppressing alternatives and variations. His second question concerns the possibility to reconstruct the ritual context of the tablets. He argues that the texts from Pelinna are addressed to the deceased initiate but the speakers are two: an earthly one who is instructing the initiate and an underwordly one (Persephone?) who welcomes him. The different speakers and the different rhythmic forms help to establish different scenarios and different pragmatic purposes in the ritual.

229 53) F. FRISONE, “Construction of Consensus: Norms and Change in Greek Funerary Rituals”, in Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean, p. 169–201: F. studies Greek

Kernos, 27 | 2014 306

funerary legislation, especially a law from Ioulis (LSCG 97), as evidence for changes and normative interventions in rituals, for the repeated review of existing norms, and for the very diverse agency behind these interventions (R. ARENA, Iscrizioni greche arcaiche di Sicilia e Magna Grecia. III. Iscrizioni delle colonie euboiche, Pisa, 1994, no 15; CID I 9; LSCG Suppl. 64 + SEG LVII 820; LSAM 16). Funerary rituals represent one of the most important moments in which pride, wealth, and support could be displayed in public; this display of social prestige and rank had to be adjusted to the prevailing social values. The polis, as a community of shared values, had the strength to assert new norms, punishing individual behavior that violated the rules; in some cases the punishment was exclusion from the community.

230 54) M. GAGARIN, “Writing Sacred Laws in Archaic and Classical Crete”, in Sacred Words, p. 101–111: Examining the inscribed cult regulations from early Crete, G. observes that there is no discernible difference between sacred laws and other kinds of laws with regard to the reasons why they were inscribed in public places, the institutions which authorized the inscribing, and the audience of the inscriptions; there is also no indication that what we call today ‘sacred laws’ were treated in Crete as different in nature from other laws, although the Cretans did differentiate between the sacred and the secular realm. Not only did sacred laws sometimes contain secular provisons but sacred matters were often treated within the context of secular laws. He attributes the publication of laws to the growing size of communities and the need to publicize rules. He examines inscriptions concerning sacrifices from Dreros, Gortyn, and Axos (Dreros: M. BILE, Le dialecte crétois, Paris, 1988,p. 31 no. 8; Gortyn: I.Cret. IV 3; Axos: I.Cret. II.v.9).

231 55) D.J. GEAGAN, The Athenian Agora. Volume XVIII. Inscriptions: The Dedicatory Monuments, Princeton, 2011 [BE 2012, 42]: This important epigraphic corpus assembles the inscribed dedicatory monuments found in the Athenian Agora, some of which originally stood on the Acropolis (new texts are marked with an asterisk). 27 texts belong to the Archaic and Classical period (A1–27). They include the epigram attributed to Simonides in honor of the tyrannicides (A1), a dedication after the victory of the Athenians in Pylos (A2), choregic monuments (A3-A5), an altar dedicated to Athena (A6), and dedications to Apollo (A8: δεκάτη), Athena (A13), the Twelve Gods (A9), and anonymous deities (A7, A11*, A12, A13*, A15*, A22). An epigram commemorates the dedication of a priestess of Demeter (A10 = CEG 317). A basin for ritual aspersions belonged to the Old Bouleuterion (A25; cf. the ritual basins A26-A27*). With regards to religious matters, the most important group consists of the votive monuments from the late Classical to the Imperial period (V559–704). The recipients are Aphrodite (V559–561; V560: τὸ πρόσωπον); Apollo (V563, 564, 565*) and Apollo Lykeios (V562); Artemis (V569), Artemis Soteira (V566), Artemis Mounychia (V567), and (Artemis) Kalliste and Ariste (V568); Asklepios (V570, V572*-574*, V575–576; V572* is an anatomical votive representating female breasts; V573* refers to fever, πυρετῷ; V575 mentions a priest and a zakoros; V576 is the paian of Sophocles), Asklepios and Hygieia (V571*), and a healing deity (V577*); Athena (V581; V583: the votive is a statue of Aphrodite and Eros: Ἀφρογενῇ Κυθέρειαν καὶ τὸν πτερόεντα Ἔρωτα), Athena Archegetis (V582), Athena Ergane (V578–579: ἀπαρχήν); Demeter and Kore (V584–591; V585: by a priestess; V589: by a zakoros) [in V591 (2nd cent. CE) one should probably read the names of the deities in the dative: Δηῷ (for Δηοῖ) καὶ Κούρῃ Παφίῃ μεμελημένον ἔργον εἵνεκεν εὐσεβίης ἔγραφε Ἑρμιόνη; if the text referred to the representation of the goddesses (Demeter and Kore, who are assimilated with Aphrodites), their names would be in the accusative, not in

Kernos, 27 | 2014 307

the nominative; ἔγραφε cannot be ‘sculpted out’; the dedicated work must have been a painting]; Dionysos (V592*-593*: altars); Eileithyia (V594); Euporia (V595); Hebe (V596*); heroes and heroines (V597–598, V599*-601*); Heros Iatros (V602); Mnemosyne (V603: [ἀρεστῆρ]α[ς καὶ] κηρία); Meter Theon (V604–607); Nemesis (V608); Sarapis (V609: by a priest; V610: for the protection of a household, ἐπ᾿ ἀγαθῷ τῇ οἰκίᾳ; V611); Pantes Theoi (V612: by a priest); a Thea Epekoos (V671); Zeus Hypsistos (V613–617, V618*, V619: all made in fulfilment of vows, εὐχήν), Zeus Meilichios (V620–625), Zeus Ombrios (V626–627), Zeus Phratrios and Athena Phratria (V628–629), and Zeus Teleios (V630); and unidentified deities (V631–704; V688*: κατ᾿ ἐπιταγήν); there are also dedications to an eponymous hero of a tribe (C80), Zeus Boulaios and Hestia Boulaia (C109). G. collects separately dedications made on by private and public religious bodies (C113–122). They refer to the sanctuary of Herakles of the genos of the Praxiergidai (C113), the cult of heroes (C114–116: C115: by eranistai; C117: by a group of θεραπευταί in connection with either the cult of Asklepios or that of the Egyptian gods), the Eleusinian mysteries (C121: list of initiates ἀφ᾿ ἑστίας), the cult of Asklepios (C122: list of paianistai and reference to the inscribing of a paian for Asklepios and Koronis). Lesser magistrates made commemorative dedications to Apollo ὑπ᾿ Ἄκραις in the Imperial period (C45-C76; most of these are inedita). Another large group commemorates victories in ephebic contests and in torch races (C124-C146). When the addressee is mentioned it usually is Hermes (C126, C128, C131, C132, C135–136) and in one case the Muses (C130). A few agonistic inscriptions record victories in various agonistic festivals that we cannot list here (C195–208, no inedita). The choregic monuments are also connected with the agonistic culture (C173–194). The most important among them is one that commemorates a victory of the Leontis (C187), possibly in a contest connected with the cult of Asklepios; part of the inscription quotes the text of a poem, probably composed by Sarapion, describing the duties of doctors (C187, late 1st cent. CE). The monument was re-dedicated in ca. 140–160 CE, when a portrait of Sarapion was set up; on that occasion, a paian composed by him was inscribed under his portrait (H377). Many monuments were military in character (C147–172: 156: to Demeter and Kore; C162*, 166, 168: to Heros Strategos). Honorific statues were dedicated to Demeter and Kore (H320, 323, 326, 330, 340, 351). Other texts that commemorate services and victories include dedications by Athenian cleruchs (C32*, C33-C34); dedications by magistrates, bodies of officials and civic subdivisions (C35-C44); dedications by prytaneis and civic, tribal, and deme magistrates (C77–112). Building inscriptions (C209–224) mention construction works pertaining to the Panathenaic Road (C 210), a building dedicated to Demeter and Kore (C216), a library dedicated to Athena Polias (C217), a garden (τὰ φυτά) dedicated to the goddesses Posphoroi (C221), and a dedication to Athena (C222). The imperial cult is represented by altars dedicated to the emperors (H274–281: Augustus; H283: Nero; H284: Vespasian; H285–313: Hadrian; unidentified emperors: H282, H314–315). The texts mention a large number of cult officials: a priest of Artemis for life (H369), a priest of Hephaistos (C122), priests of Sarapis εἰς ἄστυ and Artemis ἐν νήσωι εἰς Δῆλον (C106), priests of undetermined deities (C118, C122, C123, H319, H382), hierophantai (H359, H365), dadouchoi (H361) of the Eleusinian mysteries, an epimeletes of the mysteries (C101), a pyrphoros (H385*), exegetai (C120, H380), a hieropoios (C79), a kanephoros of the Pythais (H330, 333) and the Epidauria (H348), zakoroi, kleidouchoi, kanephoroi, and hypozakoroi in the cult of Asklepios (C122, H348), a periegetes and priest of Zeus Polieus (C122), a periegetes for life (H380), a φαιδυντὴς τοῦ Διὸς ἐν Ὀλυμπίᾳ (C120), agonothetai of the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 308

Eleusinia (H346), the Panhellenia (H402), the agon for emperor Claudius (H426), and an unknown contest (H496*); a boy that carried the eresione branch (H370); and the first high priest of the imperial cult in the province Gallia Narbonensis (H398).

232 56) S. GEORGOUDI, “Comment régler des theia pragmata. Pour une étude de ce qu’on appelle ‘lois sacrées’”, in Mètis NS 8 (2010), p. 39–54: G. points out that the modern term leges sacrae (‘lois sacrées’) is insufficient for the characterization of the texts usually assembled under this term, not only because of the heterogeneity of these documents with regard to content and the authority in which they originate, but also because the texts designated as ἱεροὶ νόμοι (e.g. LSCG 154 A/B; LSCG Suppl. 45; I.Cret. III.iv.9; IG V.2.5; SEG XI 923) [a new attestation: IG XII.4.1.357] are a much smaller group of texts than what modern scholars call leges sacrae — e.g. the regulation of the mysteries of Andania is labeled as a διάγραμμα; such hieroi nomoi often explained the ancestral customs (patria). The term ‘règlement religieux’ would be more appropriate [we use the term ‘cult regulations’, which is broader, since it comprises regulations concerning the funerary cult]; for such norms, both written and orally transmitted, the Greeks used the terms νόμος, νόμοι, and νόμιμα (cf. LSCG 36, 69, 136). G. also points to inconsistencies in the modern criteria used for the inclusion or exclusion of documents (e.g. the exclusion of I.Oropos 290). As problems related with the study of religious regulations, G. mentions the variety of content; the conditions under which a community (city, deme, association etc.) decided to write down the regulation (e.g. the re-organization of a cult; see LSCG 151; the introduction of new festivals; see LSAM 96 and 33; the financial re-organization of a cult; see LSCG 15); questions of space (where the regulation was published, where the cult took place; e.g. LSCG 18 and 70); questions of time (especially references to earlier regulations and later additions; e.g. LSCG 21).

233 57) S. GEORGOUDI, “Quelles victimes pour les dieux? À propos des animaux ‘sacrifiables’ dans le monde grec”, in M.-T. CAM (ed.), La médecine vétérinaire antique. Sources écrites, archéologiques, iconographiques, Rennes, 2007, p. 35–44: Based on the information provided by a large number of cult regulations, G. gives an overview of the criteria used for the selection of sacrificial animals (dokimasia, kritos/krite) [cf. EBGR 2010, 59]: physical integrity, beauty, color, age, the relation between a divinity and an animal, the economic possibilities and commercial capacity of a community and its ecosystem, as well as considerations of prestige.

234 58) F. GRAF, “Earthquakes and the Gods: Reflections on Graeco-Roman Responses to Catastrophic Events”, in Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity, p. 95–112: The Greeks and Romans conceptualized natural disasters, such as earthquakes, as being sent by the gods, although earthquakes were not always attributed to divine anger. Certain divinities were attributed protective functions against earthquakes (Poseidon Asphaleios), but ideas concerning the divine origin of earthquakes were complex. In the context of a study of various aspects of Greek, Roman, and Christian responses to earthquakes (religious explanation, narratives), G. discusses in detail two inscriptions. A Delphic oracle from Tralleis (I.Tralleis 1) attributed an earthquake to the wrath of Zeus and instructed the erection of an altar of Poseidon, addressing him with a series of epithets (εἰνάλιος, τεμενοῦχος, ἀπότροπος, ἵππιος, ἀργής), offering sacrifices to him, and addressing him in a hymn together with Zeus. A dedicatory epigram in Kos (ca. 200) records the rare occasion in which an earthquake threatened the celebration of the Thesmophoria on 11 Boedromion; the prayers of the dedicant made Demeter and Kore stop the disaster; the dedication was addressed to Demeter Soteira Kore, and

Kernos, 27 | 2014 309

Poseidon (R. HERZOG, “Zwei griechische Steinepigramme”, Philologische Wochenschrift 52 [1932], 1014).

235 59) F. GRAF, “Ritual Restoration and Innovation in the Greek Cities of the Roman Imperium”, in Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean, p. 105–117: G. discusses three different types of ritual change in the Roman East. 1) The governor Paullus Fabius Maximus proposed measure for the financial administration and the funding of the cult of Artemis in Ephesos (I.Ephesos 17–19, 44 CE). The costly professional hymnodoi should be replaced by chorus of ephebes; although this was the re-introduction of an old tradition, Paullus did not use tradition as an argument; he only posited economic and educational reasons. 2) In Akraiphia, the local benefactor Epameinondas restored the festival and contest of Apollo Ptoios (IG VII 2712, mid-1st cent. CE) after an interruption of thirty years [see EBGR 2010, 35 and 182]. In addition to performing sacrifices, the procession, and the traditional dance syrtoi (‘those in long trailing robes’), Epameinondas expanded the scope of the festival by associating it also with the imperial cult. ‘This manipulation of the ritual tradition, combining reconstruction with innovation, illustrates the ambivalent status of the new civic elite of the Greek cities: they furthered the status of their cities in a Greek world where the past was the most valuable commodity whilst at the same time furthering the interest of the new ruling power, Rome’. 3) With the procession established by C. Vibius Salutaris in Ephesos (I.Ephesos 27A, 104 CE) we have a case of a true innovation, the introduction of a new ritual staged by an Ephesian citizen with the rank of a Roman knight in order to display the political and ideological structure of Ephesos. His innovation did not lie in the cultic form — the procession — but in the intricate complexity of the representation. In all three cases, ritual was manipulated to respond to contemporary needs. The agents were a governor and wealthy citizens with close connections to Rome; they could mediate the complex interplay between city and court. While Epameinondas stressed the traditional nature of his restoration, Salutaris highlighted the proud self-display and self-assertion of a powerful city under the empire.

236 60) D. GRANINGER, “IG IX.2 1099B and the Komai of Demetrias”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 119–122 [BE 2012, 259]: A decree from Demetrias (IG IX.2.1099 B, 3rd cent.) concerns a sacrifice and a banquet; their performance is designated as ‘a record for the polis’ piety towards the Archagetai and Ktistai’. D. argues that the expression ἵνα… ἦι ὑπόμνημα τῆι πόλει τῆς πρὸς τοὺς ἀρχηγ[έ]τας καὶ κτίστας εὐσεβείας shows that the authority that issued the decree and displayed piety was different from the polis; it may have been a village of Demetrias. [This interpretation is based on two misunderstandings. First, a text that distinguishes between those who display piety and the audience of their display clearly identifies the first: ἵνα… ἦι ὑπόμνημα τῆι πόλει τῆς τῆς κώμης/τῶν + ethnic εὐσεβείας. Since such an identification is missing, the piety can only be that of the polis; Demetrias is the authority that issued the decree. Second, ἐστί + dative simply means ‘to have’, not to ‘show to’. The translation is: ‘so that the polis has a memorial of its piety towards the founders’; see also the critical remarks of J.-C. DECOURT, B. HELLY, BE 2012, 259].

237 61) D. GRANINGER, Cult and Koinon in Hellenistic Thessaly, Leiden, 2011 [BE 2013, 224]: G. examines the role played by cult in the construction of identity by the Thessalian Koinon in the 2nd and 1st cent. G. includes under the term ‘Thessaly’ the Tetrades of the Thessalians, the adjacent regions of Magnesia, Perhaibia, and Achaia Phthiotis, and the smaller ethne on the periphery of Thessaly. After reconstructing the history of ‘broader Thessaly’, G. studies the federal sanctuaries (p. 43–86), focusing on the importance of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 310

the cults of Athena Itonia at Philia and Zeus Eleutherios in Larisa for the regional identity of the Thessalians. G. then argues that the festival of Zeus Eleutherios was introduced not only as a celebration of the Thessalians’ freedom but also as a conscious response to the Eleutheria of Plataia. The agonistic program of this festival, known from inscriptions, highlighted local traditions (e.g. the competition called a ‘torch race on horseback’ and the bull hunt). As regards the cult of Athena Itonia and the Itonia festival, G. explains why the sanctuary at Philia — and not another sanctuary of Athena Itonia — acquired federal status after 196 BCE thus: ‘it lay near the mythic migration route of Thessaloi from southern Epiros and staked a strong claim to territory that in recent decades had been the site of friction between Macedon and Aitolia’ (p. 44). [But contrary to G.’s assumption that Itonos was in Achaia Phthiotis (p. 55–58), it is now almost certain that Itonos is the ancient name of Philia and that this sanctuary had federal status already in the 3rd cent. BCE. This was the place whither the Koan theoroi to Thessaly were sent (SEG LIII 849, ca. 242 BCE) and, as a new text from Aigai informs us (EBGR 2009, 98; SEG LIX 1406; see infra no 97), also the place where the Thessalian Koinon published its decree concerning the federal festival of Zeus Olympios]. In the chapter ‘The Thessalian Calendars’ (p. 87–114), G. discusses the development of a common calendar in ‘tetradic Thessaly’ shortly after 196 BCE and its introduction to the ethne that were gradually incorporated into the Thessalian League. In the chapter ‘International Religion’ (p. 115–151), G. studies the network of religious relations between the Thessalians and other Greeks (participation in the Delphic amphictyonic council, dispatch of sacred envoys, participation of Thessalians in panhellenic agonistic festivals, participation of foreigners in Thessalian festivals). G. argues that a sense of unity co-existed with clear differentiations between ‘tetradic Thessaly’ and the new members of the Thessalian Koinon. For instance, the latter did not attend the Itonia and Eleutheria; they sent their own amphictyones to Delphi; they reluctantly accepted the Thessalian calendar; and as the case of Ainais shows (p. 153–158), they kept their individual cultic traditions. In an Epigraphic Appendix (p. 159–182), G. presents critical editions, translations, and commentaries of seven victor lists at the Eleutheria of Larisa and a victor list for a dramatic festival in Larisa, which permit the reconstruction of the pentaeteric Eleutheria [for a detailed critical discussion see J.-C. DECOURT, B. HELLY, BE 2013, 224].

238 62) M. HAAKE, “Antigonos II. Gonatas und der Nemesistempel in Rhamnous. Zur Semantik göttlicher Ehren für einen hellenistischen König an einem athenischen ‘lieu de mémoire’”, in M. HAAKE, M. JUNG (eds.), Griechische Heiligtümer als Erinnerungsorte von der Archaik bis in den Hellenismus. Erträge einer internationalen Tagung in Münster, 20.-21 Januar 2006, Stuttgart, 2011, p. 109–127: A decree of Rhamnous (SEG XLI 75, ca. 262–240 BCE) established a sacrifice to King Antigonos Gonatas on 19 Hekatombaion, during the athletic contest of the Megala Nemesia. As H. argues, the association of Antigonos with Nemesis had a political significance connected with the importance of her sanctuary as a place of memory: the goddess had punished the Persian hybris in the battle at Marathon. Only a few years earlier (ca. 267 BCE) the opponents of the Macedonians had assimilated Antigonos’ policies with the Persian invasion. After his victory in the Chremonidean War, he was honored by the Rhamnountians as the man who had defeated the new barbarian aggressors, the Celts. His victory over the Celts was assimilated with the victory of the Athenians over the Persians.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 311

239 63) A. HELLER, “Les bêtises des Grecs”. Conflits et rivalités entre cités d’Asie et de Bithynie à l’époque romaine (129 a.C.-235 p.C.), Bordeaux, 2006: A large part of H.’s study is dedicated to disputes concerning the title of the neokoros of the imperial cult and the title of the metropolis (p. 179–282).

240 64) S. HITCH, “Embedded Speech in the Attic Leges Sacrae”, in Sacred Words, p. 113–141: Greek cult involved a lot of spoken communication, speech acts, prayers, and other oral performances, for which often no direct evidence exists [cf. EBGR 2010, 36, on acclamations]. H. recognizes evidence for such oral performances in Attic cult regulations: 1) the oral announcement of festivals (προσαγορεύειν): IG II2 1363 A.1 lines 1–6 (Προηρόσια; cf. the πρόρρησις of the Eleusinian mysteries); 2) the announcement of new procedures (προσαγορεύειν, ἀπαγορεύειν): IG II2 1362 lines 2–7 (a proclamation concerning measures against the deforestation of a sanctuary); 3) invitations to religious celebrations (ἀγγέλλειν, κελεύειν): IG I3 78 lines 21–26 (Athens’ invitation to the Greeks to contribute to the aparche; cf. IG II2 1235 lines 2–7); 4) exegesis (ἐξηγεῖσθαι, λέγειν): IG II2 47 lines 23–30; 403 lines 16–20. 5) prayers and vows (inscriptions recording the performance of prayers on behalf of the Athenians): e.g. IG II2 410 lines 2– 11. This evidence draws attention to the authoritative role of priests as ritual performers in Athens, and also to the importance of priesthoods of gene and oral traditions.

241 65) A. HOLLMANN, “A Curse Tablet from Antioch against Babylas the Greengrocer”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 157–165: Ed. pr. of a defixio from Antioch (3rd/4th cent.). The tablet is inscribed on both sides with two different curses against a greengrocer; the first curse uses a historiola, the second the similia similibus motif. That the historiola refers to Exodus 11–12 and 14–16 is not sufficient reason to identify the author of the defixio as a Jew [we present the Greek text in standard Greek orthography]. Side A: ‘ (Magical words) O thunder- and lightning-hurling Iao (βροντῶν καὶ ἀστράπτων Ἰαω), bind, bind together (δῆσον, σύνδησον) Babylas, the greengrocer, whom the polluted womb (μιηρὰ μήτρα) Dionysia, also called Hesychia, gave birth to and who lives in the neighborhood of the Mygdonites. As you struck the chariot of Pharaoh, so strike his offensiveness [M. ARBABZADAH, “A Lexicographical Note on a Curse Tablet from Antioch”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 199–200, corrects the translation of δύσληψιν: ‘his ability to escape’ (and not ‘offensiveness’)]. O thunder- and lightning-hurling Iao, as you cut down the firstborn of Egypt, cut down his [livestock] as much as [- -] now and bind, bind down, bind together, lay out (δῆσον, κατάδησον, σύνδησον, κατάκλινον), twist (στρεψάτη), let them be broken, let them not be able to move, the livestock of Babylas himself all the time from this hour and from this day, now, now, quickly, quickly, fill with evil fortune and misfortune (κακημερίας δυσημερίας) this same Babylas the greengrocer, whom Hesychia gave birth to’. Side B: ‘I adjure you (ὁρκίζω ὑμᾶς) on account of the lawless and impious (ἄνομον καὶ δυσεβῆ) Babylas the greengrocer just as you drown and will chill this tablet in the disused well, so too drown and chill the soul of Babylas (βωλίσατε καὶ ψύξατε τὴν ψυχήν), whom Dionysia, also known as Hesychia, gave birth to, weighed down with illness and useless (νοσοβαρέα καὶ ἀχρημάτιστον) wherever he will be, and let no-one live with him (μηδεὶς οἰκίσει σὺν αὐτοῦ), now, now, quickly, quickly.’ [We point to the alliteration ψύξατε τὴν ψυχήν (which is also found in the Orphic tablets) and to the effort of the author to justify the curse by characterizing the mother of Babylas as ‘an impure womb’ and Babylas as lawless and impious].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 312

242 66) F. HUMER, G. KREMER (eds.), Götterbilder — Menschenbilder. Religion und Kulte in Carnuntum. Katalog zur Ausstellung im Rahmen der Niederösterreischen Landesausstellung 2011 im Archäologischen Museum Carnuntinum, Bad Deutsch-Altenburg 16. April bis 15. November 2012, Vienna, 2011: This catalogue contains two inedita: two lead round pendants with the representation of a demon with the head of a cock and legs of a snake on the obverse and the inscription Ἀβρασάξ on the reverse (Carnuntum, 3rd cent. CE).

243 67) J. HUPE, “Der Dedikantenkreis des Achilleus als ein Gradmesser von Akkulturationsprozessen im kaiserzeitlichen Olbia. Ein Beitrag zur olbischen Onomastik”, in F. FLESS, M. TREISTER (eds.), Bilder und Objekte als Träger kultureller Identität und interkultureller Kommunikation im Schwarzmeergebiet, Rahden/West., 2005, p. 27–42: Olbian magistrates started making dedications to Achilles Pontarches from the late 1st cent. CE onwards; this cult was connected with the political and religious institution of Olbia. The dedications provide lists of names, mostly with Greek names. The presence of Iranian names became stronger after ca. 200 CE because of intermarriage between Greek and Iranian population and other demographic developments, but the use of the Greek language and the loyalty towards the main civic cult indicate a high degree of Hellenization.

244 68) A. IVANTCHIK, “Greeks and Iranians in the Cimmerian Bosporus in the Second/First Century BC: New Epigraphic Data from Tanais”, in S.M.R. DARBANDI, A. ZOURNATZI (eds.), Ancient Greece and Ancient Iran. Cross-cultural Encounters, 1stInternational Conference (Athens, 11–13 November 2006), Athens, 2008, p. 93–107: In a discussion of the co-existence of Greeks and Iranians in Tanais, I. presents three inscriptions of cult associations (thiasoi, 2nd/1st cent.). The first decree mentions the officials of an association of thiasitai: priest (restored), pater synodou, philagathos, neokoros. I. discusses in detail the function of neokoroi in the Greek world. The second inscription seems to be connected with the cult of the river-god Tanais (cf. CIRB 1259: ἄγοντες θε[οῦ] ἡμέραν Τανάϊδος). The third text is an honorary decree of a thiasos [for these inscriptions see A.I. IVANTCHIK, VDI 265 (2008), p. 57–72, and SEG LVIII 782–784].

245 69) T.S.F. JIM, “The Vocabulary of ἀπάρχεσθαι, ἀπαρχή and Related Terms in Archaic and Classical Greece”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 39–58: A study of the various uses of the words ἀπάρχομαι, ἀπαρχή, ἄργματα, κατάρχομαι, ἐπάρχομαι, and ἐπαρχή shows that this vocabulary of offering the ‘first portion’ could be used in relation to sacrifice, dedications, and hair-offerings. The offering could be both a sacrificial portion and a first offering. The common denominator is the act of setting aside a portion as a symbolic offering expressing the precedence of the gods over humans. While ἀπάρχομαι can be used for both sacrifices and dedications, κατάρχομαι is only used in connection with sacrifice and ἀπαρχή is predominantly used in the context of dedications.

246 70) C.P. JONES, “An Apamean at Philippopolis”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 96–98 [BE 2011, 437]: A funerary epigram from Philippopolis honors a certain Maximos of Apameia, buried near a statue of Apollo Kendrissos. N. Sharankov identified him with a homonymous Apamean poet, twice winner of the Hadriana Olympia in Kyzikos [EBGR 2007, 133]; he based his assumption that Maximos was a poet participating in agonistic festivals on Maximos’ characterization as Θρῄκῃ καὶ κόσμῳ πεφιλημένος (‘loved by Thrace and the world’). J. expresses doubts on both this identification and the assumption that Maximos was a poet: ‘If he was a poet, the wretched versification would suggest that his

Kernos, 27 | 2014 313

command of meter had not passed to his son’. It is more likely that he was a trader. Maximos’ fatherland must have been Apamea Myrleia (Mudanya, at the entrance of the Gulf of Kios).

247 71) C.P. JONES, “Cleopatra VII in Teos?”, Chiron 41 (2011), p. 41–53 [BE 2012, 356]: Ed. pr. of an inscribed altar copied by J. and L. Robert in Teos in 1955 (now probably lost). A woman dedicated an altar of Berenike Thea, Arsinoe Thea, Kleopatra Thea, and Queen Kleopatra. The mention of a dedicant shows that it was not used for a domestic cult. The letter-forms suggest a date between 125–25 BCE. The reigning queen most probably is Kleopatra VII and the date ca. 33 BCE. The deified relatives are probably Berenike I, Arsinoe II, and Kleopatra, the daughter of Ptolemy IV, who married three Seleucid kings. The existence of this ‘elder’ Kleopatra (worshipped in Ptolemais in Phoenicia as Kleopatra Thea Eueteria) explains the designation of Kleopatra VII as Neotera (the ‘younger’ Kleopatra). Kleopatra’s association with her homonymous relative emphasized her claim to be a new Lagid queen in Syria. However, J. points out that other identifications of Thea Kleopatra (Kleopatra Tryphaina) cannot be excluded. As a seat of the Dionysiac artists, Teos had close connections with Marc Antony, the new Dionysos, and the Ptolemaic court. The inscription was found near Dionysos’ temple. In an appendix, J. briefly discusses a dedication made to Aphrodite Epekoos by a priest on behalf of King Demetrios I of Syria, Queen Laodike, and their children (SEG L 1462; EBGR 2000, 78). J. suggests that the priest (of Aphrodite), who was worshipped as a patron of maternity in Teos, made the dedication to thank the goddess for blessing the royal couple with sons.

248 72) D.R. JORDAN, E. PACHOUMI, “A Gold-foil Phylactery from the Hermus Valley in the Manisa Museum”, EA 44 (2011), p. 163–164 [BE 2013, 46]: An inscribed gold lamella in the Manisa Museum (I.Manisa 488), which has been tentatively interpreted as an Orphic lamella because of the inclusion of the words φύλακες (line 2) and θάνατος (line 3; see EBGR 1994/95, 225; 2000, 16), is in fact a phylactery. The text cannot be reconstructed, but the authors recognize the expression γῆς θαλά[σσης] (line 3), the name Σαβαώθ (line 4), magical words (LL. 5–7), and possible τάσι (for τάσσει) ὑμῖν (line 8). 249 73) A. KLÖCKNER, “Women’s Affairs? On a Group of Attic Votive Reliefs with Unusual Decoration”, in Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity, p. 179–191: K. studies a group of six votive reliefs from Athens (Brauron, Rhamnous, Teithras?, Athens?, 4th cent.); a similar relief was found in Megara. The decoration consists of two oblong objects arranged in an X; there is a rounded knob in the middle, where they are joined together. At the curved ends, they usually have small crescent bulges. Some of them are inscribed. According to the inscriptions, they were dedicated by women, one on behalf of her child, another to Artemis, another one to the Eleusinian goddesses. The three reliefs from Rhamnous were probably dedicated in the Telesterion, another may be from the Koreion in Teithras. K. compares the enigmatic object with representations of cross-torches in Sicily. Such torches were supported by a long stick and burned on four ends; they seem to have been a requisite in the cult of Demeter, Kore, and Artemis [obviously used in nocturnal ceremonies].

250 74) S. KRAVARITOU, “Synoecism and Religious Interface in Demetrias”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 111–135 [BE 2013, 245]: K. examines the process of the creation of the city of Demetrias and the organization of the religious life of the new city. Traditional Thessalian cults were incorporated into the cults of Demetrias (Hermes Chthonios, Ennodia, Herakles, Artemis Iolkia) along with religious innovations, such as the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 314

amalgamation of Pasikrata with Ennodia, the introduction of new cults (Herakles Kynagidas, Demeter, Kore, and Plouton) and the ruler cult of Demetrios Poliorketes and Antigonos Gonatas as archegetai kai ktistai. The sanctuaries of Apollo Koropaios at Korope and Zeus Akraios and Chiron on Mt. Pelion continued to exist as extra-urban sanctuaries of Demetrias. In two tables, K. collects the evidence for cults in the area of Demetrias and Pagasai in the Archaic-Classical (p. 125–128) and Hellenistic-Imperial periods (p. 128–133).

251 75) G. LABARRE, Le dieu Mèn et son sanctuaire à Antioche de Pisidie, Brussels, 2010: L. summarizes the literary, archaeological, and epigraphic sources for the god Men (p. 21– 31) and discusses in detail his iconography and attributes, his epithets, which often refer to the founder of the cult or a place of worship, his functions as a protector of humans, his association with other gods, and the rituals in his cult (prayer, libations, offerings), and the origins of the cult (p. 32–69). He also gives an overview of the topography and architecture of his sanctuary in Antiochia in Pisidia (p. 71–113), the cult personnel and the worshippers (p. 115–146), and the diffusion of relevant theophoric names (p. 146–154). In an appendix, he presents a small selection of relevant inscriptions.

252 76) E. LAFLI, E. CHRISTOV, “Der kaiserzeitliche Tempel von Asartepe/Kimistene in der Chora des paphlagonischen Hadrianopolis — Ergebnisse der Prospektion von 2005”, MDAI (I) 61 (2011), p. 233–286: The authors present the epigraphic finds from Asartepe (ancient Kimistene in the territory of Hadrianopolis) [from the ethnic Kimestenos one may infer that the place name was Kimesta, not Kimestene]; new texts are marked with an asterisk: A man, who designates himself a ἱκέτης dedicated a temple and the statues in it to Demeter and Kore, following a divine command (κατὰ κέλευσιν τῶν θεῶν; 3 = SEG XXXIII 1100, 196 CE). Other dedications are addressed to Zeus Kimistenos (4 = SEG XXXIII 1099, 2nd cent. CE), Zeus Bronton (5*; dedication of a πλινθίς and a καμάρα) [a threshold and an arch or vault]. The remains of a temple, built in the late 2nd or early 3rd cent. CE, must be attributed to Zeus Kimestenos, whose cult is also attested through Greek and Latin inscriptions in Dacia.

253 77) B. LE GUEN, “Comment parler de l’argent des concours grecs ou ‘à la grecque’?”, in L’argent dans les concours, p. 21–34: L. gives an overview of the history of research on the economic aspects of Greek agonistic festivals and summarizes the main aspects of the subject (expenses for the organization of agones, private and public sources of funding, rewards for the victors).

254 78) V. LIAPIS, “The Thracian Cult of Rhesus and the Heros Equitans”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 95–104: L. associates the literary evidence for the cult of the Thracian king Rhesos (Ps.-Euripides, Rhesos 962–973; Philostratos, Heroikos 18.3–6) with the cult of the Thracian Rider. Admittedly, Rhesos is never given as the name of the Thracian Rider, but ρῆσος probably is not a name but a designation meaning ‘lord’ (cf. the designation of the Thracian Rider as κύριος and δεσπότης). Rhesos and the Thracian Rider share traits as healing deities, horse masters, hunters, and chthonic figures. Although the identification of the Thracian Rider with Rhesos cannot be proven on the basis of the existing evidence, it should not be ruled out.

255 79) J.-J. MAFFRE, A. TICHIT, “Quelles offrandes faisait-on à Artémis dans son sanctuaire de Thasos?”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 137–164: The authors give an overview of the dedications made to Artemis in her Thasian sanctuary. Although it is evident that the goddess was worshipped as a patron of women, the dedicatory objects do not show any specific

Kernos, 27 | 2014 315

connection with Artemis and do not permit a precise definition of her properties. The discovery of skyphoi and kylixes as well as of a dedication made by a man (Philon) reveals the participation of men in the cult. Some kylixes and skyphoi have dedicatory inscriptions (Ἀπολλόδωρος ὁ Διφίλο ἀν[έθεκεν], ἱρή, et sim.; p. 144f.). 256 80) C. MAREK, “Zur Epigraphik von Pompeiopolis: Eine Zwischenbilanz”, in L. SUMMERER (ed.), Pompeiopolis I: eine Zwischenbilanz aus der Metropole Paphlagoniens nach fünf Kampagnen (2006–2010), Langenweißbach, 2011, p. 189–191: M. gives an overview of the inscriptions of Pompeiopolis. 34 new finds can be added to the catalogue published in 1993 [see the summary in EBGR 1993/94, 153]. The main god of the city was Helios, associated with Zeus and Sarapis. M. presents three new finds. 1) A man offered a sacrifice in accordance with an oracle of Helios Basileus: κατὰ τὸ λόγιον τοῦ βασιλέως Ἡλίο<υ> θυηπολίαν Κλαύδιος Μαρκέλλο[ς] [2nd cent. CE]. 2) The city made a dedication to Plouton in accordance with an oracle [Πλούτωνι κατὰ χρησμὸν ἡ πόλις]. 3) The association of the participants in music contests (ἱερὰ μουσικὴ Σευηριανὴ Ἀλεξανδριανὴ περιπολιστικὴ μεγάλη σύνοδος) honored a Paphlagoniarch (early 3rd cent. CE).

257 81) Á. MARTÍNEZFERNÁNDEZ, “Una inscripción votiva inédita de Áptera”, in F. CORTÉS GABAUDAN, J.V. MÉNDEZ DOSUNA (eds.), DIC MIHI, MUSA, VIRUM. Homenaje al prefesor Antonio López Eire, Salamanca, 2010, p. 413–418: Ed. pr. of a dedication to Hestia by a damiourgos, upon completion of his term in office, in expression of gratitude (χαριστήριον, Aptera, 2nd cent.). The cult of Hestia is well attested in Crete. Dedications to Hestia by magistrates after their term in office are common: e.g. IG XI.4.1137/1138, 1140/1141; I.Ephesos 1065; TAM II.3.1185.

258 82) P. MARTZAVOU, “Les cultes isiaques et les Italiens entre Délos, Thessalonique et l’Eubée”, Pallas 84 (2010), p. 181–205 [BE 2011, 317; 2012, 220]: The strong presence of Italians among the worshippers of the Egyptian gods in Delos is attested through the epigraphic evidence. M. attributes the diffusion of specific forms of this cult to Euboia and Thessalonike to the migration of the Italian traders from Delos, after the disastrous attacks of Mithridates VI and the pirates (88 and 69 BCE). The evidence is very strong as regards Thessalonike: the presence of certain gentilicia, the presence of similar epithets, expressions, and forms of worship in both Delos and Thessalonike (Isis Nike, hydreion, representation of footprints and ears on reliefs), the existence of the office of ὑφιερεύς (attested in Delos, assumed for Thessalonike), and the iconography of Isis Pelagia (‘Isis “à la voile”‘). The evidence that links Euboia with Delos and Thessalonike is less compelling: the presence of certain nomina gentilia in Euboia and Thessalonike (the Salarii and the Herennii), the worship of Sarapis and Osiris, the use of the expression θεοὶ σύνναοι καὶ σύμβωμοι. M. suggests that the sanctuary of the Egyptian gods in Eretria was abandoned when the Italici were attracted by the advantages offered by Thessalonike [see the critical remarks of D. KNOEPFLER, BE 2012, 220].

259 83) P. MARTZAVOU, “Priests and Priestly Roles in the Isiac Cults: Women as Agents in Religious Change in Late Hellenistic and Roman Athens”, in Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean, p. 61–84: Focusing on the evidence for the cult of Isis in Athens and Delos, M. studies the complex issue of religious agency in this cult, as represented not only by the activities of priests and priestly officials but also that of devotees (‘religious enthusiasts’). After inspection of the sources, M. argues that a significant portion of the Isis devotees assumed some sort of freelance priestly status (‘sacerdotization’) through ceremonies of initiatory character. This allowed them to be

Kernos, 27 | 2014 316

represented in their funerary reliefs as performers of rituals. M. discusses in detail the Athenian reliefs with women in the Isis dress, holding a sistrum; some of them were foreigners, possibly freedwomen. The sistrum suggests their involvement in rituals. Various attributes (garlands, cists) point to an internal differentiation and possibly the existence of a hierarchy. M. argues that the cists were a ritual element that was first elaborated on Delos and later influenced Athenian and Eleusinian imagery and practice. She recognizes similarities between Isiac and Eleusinian rituals also in the presence of kanephoroi and a possible case of hieronymy: in an inscribed altar from Delos (RICIS 202/0377: Δήμητρος Ἐλευσινίας καὶ Κόρης καὶ γυναικός; ‘of Eleusinian Demeter and of Kore and of (my) wife’) the dedicant and his wife remain anonymous; in Eleusinian ‘hieronymy’ the name of the priest or priestly official was replaced by their title. The omission of the name in the Delian altar might even suggest that the wife of the dedicant was still alive at the moment of the dedication and received some sort of cultic honors. M. proposes the area near the city Eleusinion as the most likely location for the sanctuary if Isis, without excluding the possibility that initiates and ‘priest-like’ figures in the Isiac cult received intra-shrine burial.

260 84) V. MATHE, “Coût et financement des stades et des hippodromes”, in L’argent, p. 189– 223: The expenses for stadia and hippodromes made an important part of the budget of ancient agonistic festivals. M. presents a very useful overview of the various expenses and the diverse ways they were covered. The primarily epigraphic evidence is summarized in 9 tables in an appendix (p. 204–223). The main expenses were caused by the construction of stadia and hippodromes, their facilities (e.g. starting mechanisms), and cleaning and repair before and after festivals. Funds were provided by cities, individual benefactors, kings and emperors, priests, gymnasiarchs, the Amphiktyony, and sacred funds of sanctuaries (Epidauros, Argos, Delos).

261 85) A.P. MATTHAIOU, “Τρεῖς ἐπιγραφὲς ἐκ τῶν περὶ τὸ Ἀσκληπιεῖον τόπων”, in P. VALAVANIS (ed.), Ταξιδεύοντας στὴν κλασικὴ Ἑλλάδα. Τόμος πρὸς τιμὴν τοῦ καθηγητῆ Πέτρου Θέμελη, Athens, 2011, p. 189–196 [BE 2012, 156]: Ed. pr. of an inscribed capital with a dedication to Asklepios (Asklepieion, Athens, ca. 375–350). The dedicant, Leodamas, is known as the dedicant of another dedication to Asklepios found in the south slope of the Acropolis (IG II2 4381). In the same article, M. republishes an opisthographic stele (IG I3 1070) from the vicinity of the Asklepieion. Inscribed on the two sides of the stele are the boundary marker of the precinct (τέμενος) of an unknown god (6th/5th cent.) and a fragmentary cult regulation (late 6th cent.). The law forbids the use of a fountain’s water for any other purpose than religious rituals (cf. Thuc. IV E1 E1 3 87, 3): μὲ χρ C0 χέρνιβι τ[B0 ι h?]ιερᾶι [το Παν?]ός. A relief with the Nymphs and Pan (IG I 955) suggests the existence of a sanctuary of these deities in this area. If the restoration of the name of Pan is correct, the text must be later than the battle of Marathon. The fountain in question may be the Archaic predecessor of a fountain that existed in the Asklepieion (founded in 420 BCE).

262 86) J. MEIER, S. TRACY, in S. DIETZ, M. STAVROPOULOU (eds.), Kalydon in Aitolia, Copenhagen, 2011 [BE 2012, 46; 2013, 217]: Ed. pr. of an inscription recording the dedication of statues (τὰ ἀναθέματα τοῖς θεοῖς καὶ τᾶι πόλει) by Sosikles; the statues were made by Alexarchos of Sikyon (Kalydon, ca. 150–100; p. 95–97, 122–125). A miniature altar was dedicated to Artemis (p. 147–149).

263 87) M. MICHALAKI-KOLLIA, “Dédicaces à Artémis Lochia et à Eileithyia à Astypalée. Rapport avec les 2750 enchytrismes des nouveau-nés?”, in Epigrammata -- Susini, p. 279–298 [BE

Kernos, 27 | 2014 317

2012, 20]: The author reports the discovery of an area with more than 2750 vases containing burials of newly born babies, fetuses, and a few infants in Astypalaia (8th cent. BCE to the Imperial period). She associates this unusually large burial place for prematurely deceased babies with the cult of patrons of childbirth: Artemis Lochia and Eileithyia in Astypalaia. A small number of dedications to these goddesses is preserved: 1) Dedication of a temple of Artemis Lochia (early 4th cent.; I.Dor.Ins. 92). 2) Dedication of a statue to Eileithyia by a woman in fulfillment of a vow (IG XII.2.192, early 4th cent.). 3) Dedication to Eileithyia made by a priestess after her term in office (unpublished, 2nd cent.). In order to explain the unusually large number of enchytrismoi of babies, the author observes the presence of a foreign population on this island, as can be inferred from the cults of Atargatis (IG XII.3.178 and 188) and the existence of an association of Phrygians (I.Dor.Ins. 88). She wonders whether the cult regulation preventing entrance of impure people in a sanctuary (IG XII.3.183 = LSCG 130) may be referring to this cemetery (291/292). The text reads: ἐς τὸ ἱερὸν μὴ ἐσέρπεν ὅστις μὴ ἁγνός ἐστι ἢ τελεῖ ἢ αὐτῶι ἐν νῶι ἐσσεῖται. M.-K. proposes the following translation: ‘que ne pénètre dans le sanctuaire qui est impur, que ce soit de fait, ou que ce soit en pensée (ou: avec l’intention de l’être)’. By this interpretation, the regulation refers to acts of exposure or abandonment of babies. She suspects that the area of the burials, outside the city wall, may have belonged to a sanctuary of Artemis Lochia, where women deposited their stillborn or prematurely deceased babies and placed them under her protection (p. 291f.). She speculates that this sanctuary was also designed for women who, having lost their children, were considered impure and had to be re-integrated into society (p. 294). [This find is indeed extraordinary and puzzling. However, the author’s assumptions cannot be accepted. First, it is unlikely that a sanctuary included a place for burials. Second, the cult of a foreign deity (Atargatis) was not necessarily introduced or practiced by foreigners. Second, an association of the cult regulation with the intentional abandonment of babies is absolutely impossible. The text does not refer to women but to men (ὅστις μὴ ἁγνός). Furthermore, the verb ἐσσεῖται is in the plural; therefore, it cannot refer to a person’s condition when entering the sanctuary. It refers to the consequences of his/her action. In my view αὐτῶι ἐν νῶι ἐσσεῖται corresponds to the expression ἐνθύμιον ἔστω which appears in the context of transgression and divine punishment in cult regulations and imprecations from Thasos, Kos, and Knidos, i.e., in the same geographical area. As K. Karila-Cohen has suggested, ‘il s’agit d’un sentiment de danger impliquant l’action d’une puissance supérieure’ (see EBGR 2010, 93, with reference to the sources). The correct interpretation was already given by Wilamowitz: ‘qui impurus intraverit aut multam solvet (τελεῖ futurum est) aut ἐνθυμηθήσεται’ (IG ad loc.). A tentative translation is: ‘no one who is impure, should enter the sanctuary; otherwise he shall pay a fine or shall bear this in his conscience’].

264 88) L. MIGEOTTE, “Le financement des concours dans les cités hellénistiques: essai de typologie”, in L’argent dans les concours, p. 127–143 [BE 2011, 165]: Focusing on the epigraphic sources concerning the financial aspects of contests in Delos (Apollonia, Posideia), Amorgos (Itonia), Anaktorion (Aktia), Ilion (festival of Athena), Iasos (Dionysia), Bargylia (festival of Artemis Kindyas), Tanagra (Sarapieia), and Lebadeia (Basileia), M. gives a panorama of the various methods used for the funding of contests: use of sacred funds, endowed money, regular public budget, private contributions in the form of liturgies, individual dues, contributions by generous private sponsors.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 318

265 89) M. MILI, “The Thessalian Ainians or the Ainians of Thessaly? Dedications and Games of Identity”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 169–176 [BE 2012, 258]: A series of dedications from Mikro Keserli in northeast Thessaly (2nd cent. BCE-1st cent. CE) reveal, according to M., an interest in local myths and cults connected with the tribe of the Ainians (IG IX. 2.1058, 1060–1063). Most dedications were made by guards. They are addressed to Aphrodite, Artemis and Artemis Phosphoros (4 texts), Asklepios, Dionysios Kaprios, Herakles, Zeus Perpheretas (3 texts), Leukatas (Apollo?), and the heroes Aineas (3 texts) and Dikaios. Although some of the recipients of the dedications (e.g. Aineas and Zeus Perpheratas) have connections with Macedonia and Thrace, M. argues that both the dedicants and the cults were local.

266 90) E. MIRANDA, F. GUIZZI, “Le iscrizione”, in T. RITTI, H.H. BAYSAL (eds.), Museo Archaeologico di Denizli-Hierapolis. Catalogo delle iscrizioni greche e latine. Distretto di Denizli, Naples, 2008, p. 33–336 [SEG LVIII 1505; BE 2010, 554]: M. and G. present a catalogue of the inscriptions in exhibition in the new Archaeological Museum of Denizli-Hierapolis. Except for a text from Priene (EBGR 1988, 114; SEG XXXVII 994), all the inscriptions are from Phrygia. We mention the inedita and a few important texts. Laodikeia: An honorific decree of Stratonikeia for Laodikeia (3; SEG LVIII 1541, 3rd/2nd cent.) grants the envoy from Laodikeia the privilege of prohedria in all musical contests [P. HAMON, BE 2010, 554, argues that the prohedria was granted to all the Laodikeians; the invitation was announced by the agonothetes or the hierokeryx]. Attouda: Honorific inscriptions for a priest of Apollo (55, 2nd cent. CE), for a victor at the local Pythia (60, 2nd cent. CE: στέφομαι Ποίθια᾿ ἐμῆς πατρίδος) and a victor in pankration (61, 2nd cent. CE). Herakleia Salbake: A relief is decorated with the representation of a male figure with cornucopia; an inscription identifies him as a river-god (ἱερὸς ποταμός; 47 bis = SEG XXXI 933, 2nd cent. CE). Themisonion (?): A man dedicated to Theos Hypsistos the architrave and the threshold (of a shrine?) in fulfillment of a vow; the stone has the letters ΤΟΟΔΥΝ, which the eds. correct to τὸ<ν> ὀδὺν (47, Imperial period). An epitaph has an interesting funerary imprecations: ὃς ἂν τοῦτο τὸ μνῆμα [λ]οιμάννῃ ἢ μετάρῃ μὴν ὀνέτο ἐλπίδων, μήτε τέκ<ν>ων μήτε ὀμάτων μήτε γονάτω<ν> (182, Imperial period) [‘whoever pollutes or moves this memorial, let him have no luck in hopes, children, eyes, and knees’]. The curse against the health of the knees is unattested [probably for euphonic reasons: ὀμάτων γονάτων]. Unknown provenance: A priest of an anonymous deity constructed and dedicated with his wife and children a temple and halls (23, 2nd cent. CE). A fragmentary inscription (46, Imperial period) seems to refer to a miraculous healing and to Asklepios. [Part of the text has been misread: l. 2: ΚΑΤΕΧΟΜ, not ΚΑΤΕΧΟΝ; l. 3: [ἐθε]ραπεύθη, not [θε]ράπευθε; l. 3: ΣΕΠΙΤΡΑΦΗ, not [τῆ]ς ἐπιγραφῆ[ς]. I propose the following restorations: [- - τ]οῖς λοιπ̣[- - | - - π]ροκατεχομ[- - | - -]ς ἐπιτραφῇ (or ἐπιτραφῆ[ναι]) [- - | - - ἐθε]ραπεύθη ἀπ[ὸ? - - | - - Ἀσ]κληπιοῦ ἐν π[- - | - - ἱ]εράσατο ἕως [- -]. Ἐπιτρέφω is a medical term (‘to form upon’; see LSJ); it must be mentioned here in connection with an illness. Προκατέχω is used in connection with claims on real estate (e.g. IG XII.5.100: ὁ τόπος προκατέχεται; cf. TAM III.1.872), but in this context it is be used in connection with a disease, which ‘had already gained possession of the body’. The text may be the narrative of a healing miracle or an honorific inscription for someone who served as priest (until his death?), after having been cured by the god.]. An epitaph contains an unusual funerary imprecation: ‘whoever mutilates (the grave) shall be accountable in front of the one who gives light’, i.e. the Sun (118, 2nd cent. CE: ὃς ἂν κολοβώσι γένυτο αὐτῷ πρὸ τὸν φωτιτήραν [for

Kernos, 27 | 2014 319

ὃς ἂν κολοβώσῃ γένοιτο αὐτῷ πρὸς τὸν φωτιστήραν]). Another funerary imprecation (184) is too fragmentary. The inscription with the invocation ἐνορκίζομ[αι - -]ΣΟ[-] ΠΑΝΤ[- -] is puzzling, since it is written on a small column with a Corinthian capital [probably invocation of a god (e.g. a form of παντ[οκράτωρ]) rather than an invocation of the emperor].

267 91) J.-C. MORETTI, “Le coût et le financement des théâtres grecs”, in L’argent, p. 147–187 [BE 2011, 294]: M. collects the mainly epigraphic evidence concerning the expenses connected with the existence of theaters in Greek cities (128 texts). The texts mainly concern the cost for the construction of theaters’ facilities, infrastructure, and decoration. The various expenses were covered in different ways (public funds, sacred money, subscriptions, revenues from the leasing of the theater, donations by agonothetai, priests, kings, emperors, benefactors, and associations). The relevant material is summarized in three tables in an appendix. We single out the use of sacred money in Epidauros, Akraiphia, Bouthrotos, Delos (nos 13, 22, 34 in the appendix).

268 92) P.M. NIGDELIS, “‘Voluntary Associations’ in Roman Thessalonike: In Search of Identity and Support in a Cosmopolitan Society”, in L. NASRALLAH, C. BAKIRTZIS, S.J. FRIESEN (eds.), From Roman to Early Christian Thessalonike. Studies in Religion and Archaeology, Cambridge Ma., 2010, p. 13–47: N. studies the nature, membership, organization, and activities of 39 voluntary associations attested in Roman Thessalonike. Most associations (24) were cult associations; many of them were dedicated to Dionysos (μύσται Διὸς Διονύσου Γονγύλου, θείασος Δροιοφόρων, Ἐριφιασταί, Ἀσιανῶν θίασος, βακχεῖον Ἀσιανῶν, σπεῖρα, association of worshippers of Διόνυσος Ὡροφόρος; cf. Ταύρου κομπέτου δοῦμος). Attested also are associations for the worship of the Egyptian gods (συνθρησκευταὶ κλείνης θεοῦ μεγάλου Σαράπιδος, θρησκευταὶ καὶ σηκοβάται θεοῦ Ἑρμανούβιδος, ἱεραφόροι συνκλῖται), Herakles (συνήθεις τοῦ Ἡρακλέους, Περιτιασταί), Aphrodite (δοῦμος Ἀφροδίτης Ἐπιτευξιδίας, θρησκευταὶ Αφροδίτης), Asklepios (Ἀσκληπιασταί), Poseidon (συνήθεια ἡ ἐπὶ τοῦ Ποσειδῶνος), Artemis (συνήθεις Ἀρτέμιδος Ἀκραίας and Ἀρτέμιδος Γουρασίας), Theos Hyspistos (συνκλῖται Θεοῦ Ὑψίστου), the Thracian Rider (οἱ περὶ τὸν Ἥρωα, συνήθεια Ἥρωνος Αὐλωνίτου), and the local hero of Aiane, Aineias (συνήθεια ἥρωος Αἰνεία). It is not clear whether an association that had the offices of ἀρχιμαγαρεύς, πατὴρ σπηλαίου, and γαλακτηφόρος κισταφορήσασα was dedicated to Dionysos, Kybele, or Mithras. The number of professional associations is smaller but many associations classified as religious were professional associations under the patronage of a particular god. The large number of associations in Thessalonike and the presence of many foreigners and descendants of immigrants among their members can be explained by the cosmopolitan character of the city and its importance for traffic. Membership was not limited to individuals of lower social status; the participation of women was very limited. There was a large variety of offices and ritual functions (ἀρχισυνάγωγος, πατὴρ σπηλαίου, τρικλεινάρχης, ἀρχιμύσται, ἀρχινεωκόρος, ἀρχιμαγαρεὺς ἀθύτου, μαγαρεύς/ μαγάρισσα, ἀρχιγάλλαρος, ναρθηκοφόρος, ἀρχικρανεάρχης, νεβραφόροι, νεβρῖναι). Common activities of the associations include the burial of their members, religious rituals, commemorative ceremonies, and feasts. Among the rituals, we single out the reenactment of Dionysiac myths in Dionysiac associations, the reenactment of a sacred marriage in an association of Aphrodite (IG X.2.1.299: πολλάκι νυφευθῖσ᾿ ἁγνοῖς ἐν ἐμοῖς θαλάμοισι), and feasts (cf. the terms δοχαί, συνκλῖται, τρικλείναρχος). The feasts in connection with the cult of Zeus Dionysos Gongylos are of particular importance (IG

Kernos, 27 | 2014 320

X.2.1.259). An official donated a vineyard on condition that the association would continue performing ceremonial feasts on 19 Dystros (March), 13 Daisios (May), and 23 Gorgiaios (August) in honour of the θρέψαντες (ἡ ἐπὶ τῶν θρεψάντων ἄρτου ἑστίασις), a group of deceased individuals, possibly the member’s parents and relatives or the association’s founders and patrons. These feasts were certainly connected with the funerary cult, as they seem to coincide with the Roman Parentalia (13–21 March) and the rosalia (13 Daisios, May), and possibly the Vinalia. For members of the middle and lower strata of society, participation in the life of an association offered an opportunity of conviviality, social integration, and collective identity.

269 93) C. PACE, “Aristofane a Rodi. Le Rane in un’iscrizione ellenistica”, in Epigrammata -- Susini, p. 299–330: An inscription from Rhodes (1st cent.; G. PUGLIESE CARRATELLI, Dionyso 8, 1940, p. 3–7), gives, under the heading ‘Of Aristophanes’, the text of Aristophanes’, Frogs lines 454–459, part of the initiates’ song. P. discusses in detail the phrase ἱερὸν φέγγος, which should be seen in the context of initiatic rituals and the life of the initiates after death (Frogs 307–314). These verses were selected for epigraphic publication because of their religious meaning. According to Pugliese Carratelli, the inscription was set up in the context of a Dionysiac association but also because of the importance of the cult of Helios in Rhodes. But since the stone was found near the gymnasion, P. prefers the gymnasion, which possessed a library, as the most probable place for the stone’s display. The explicit mention of Aristophanes shows that this quotation was selected for its literary value, as quotation of a ‘Classic’, in a city with a strong interest in theatrical performances. In the context of the gymnasion, the text served educational aims, both as a literary and a religious text. One cannot determine what the statuette supported by this base represented (Dionysos, Helios, or Aristophanes).

270 94) E. PACHOUMI, “Resurrection of the Body in the Greek Magical Papyri”, Numen 58 (2011), p. 729–740: Four spells in magical handbooks (PMG IV 1928–2005, 2006–2125, and 2145–2240; XIII 277–283) prescribe procedures involving the manipulation of the bodies of individuals who died prematurely or violently. A detailed study of these spells suggests that they imply more than the invocation of the spirits of the dead; they imply the concept of bodily reanimation or resurrection (ἔγερσις σώματος). The magician’s purpose was to have the dead as assistant and avenger (πάρεδρος, βοηθός, ἔκδικος). Examples of bodily resurrection are also known from literary sources (e.g. Lucan, Pharsalia 6.654–827; Lucian, Philopseudes 11, 13). The bodily resurrection connected with significant problems such as the duration of the resurrection and the relation between body and spirit.

271 95) O. PALAGIA, “The Grave Relief of Adea, Daughter of Cassander and Cynnana”, in T. HOWE, J. REAMES (eds.), Macedonian Legacies: Studies in Ancient Macedonian History and Culture in Honor of Eugene N. Borza, Claremont, CA, 2009, p. 195–214 [SEG LIX 655]: P. presents a new interpretation for a grave relief and grave epigram from Beroia (I.Beroia 391). The relief represents a woman with chiton and petassos, identified as Hadea, daughter of Kassandros and Kynnana, the deceased woman to whom the monument was dedicated, and a girl holding a book roll and accompanied by Hermes Chthonios. On stylistic grounds, P. proposes a date in the late 4th cent. BCE (not late 3rd cent. BCE). She identifies the deceased Hadea as the infant and the woman with the petassos as a personification of Macedonia. The book roll is not a sign of education but the sacred book of an initiate into the Orphic mysteries: ‘if Adea was too young for it [the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 321

initiation], her parents presumably were initiates and could therefore furnish her with a passport to the Underworld, held by her as a talisman’ (p. 201). As regards prosopography, P. speculates that the parents of Hadea were Kynnana, the daughter of Amyntas IV and Kynnana, Alexander’s sister, and Kassandros, the future king of Macedonia. [Kynnana, daughter of Amyntas, is not attested by any source. Personifications of regions are not attested in funerary reliefs. It is impossible that a man, who was not yet king of Macedonia, honored his infant girl with a funerary monument featuring a deified representation of Macedonia. There are no sources that attest that an infant could be accepted into the place of the underworld reserved for the initiates without personal initiation and only through the initiation of her parents. There is no doubt that the deceased Hadea is the woman over whom the name Ἁδέα has been inscribed, to whom the viewer’s gaze is directed, and next to whom female attributes are represented (mirror, hat, fan, jewelry box)].

272 96) R. PARKER, “New Problems in Athenian Religion: The ‘Sacred Law’ from Aixone”, in Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity, p. 193–208: P. provides an English translation of the cult regulation from Aixone, summarizes its content, and discusses several problems of interpretation (ca. 400–375; SEG LIV 214; EBGR 2004, 256; 2010, 1–2) [cf. supra no 1]. It was believed that Athenian demes had a limited number of priesthoods; according to the new text (and literary evidence), Aixone would have twelve or more. For this reason P. considers the possibility that the regulation was not that of the deme but of an unidentifiable genos based in Aixone. In that case, the priesthoods of the genos need not concern cults only in Aixone; the priests would have served cults scattered throughout Attica. The existence of pentekostyes rather favors the assumption that the document originates in the deme. In that case, the priests were recruited from and paid by the deme. The amounts mentioned in the text must represent an annual payment. As regards the identity of the Hagne Theos, the most likely candidate is Kore (cf. IGDS 38). It is remarkable that Kore was served by both a priest and a priestess (cf. Artemis Leukophryene, the gods of Andania, Artemis Hymnia); a parallel is provided by the joint activities of the priestess and the hierophant in the Eleusinian cult of Demeter and Kore. The regulation presents small variations with regard to sacrifices. A puzzling detail is that the sacrifice to Dionysos Anthios was sparser than the others; for this sacrifice the priestess did not receive compensation for the preparation of sacrificial cakes or for kindling; the latter detail may be connected with the association of Dionysos with ὠμοφαγία, ‘raw meat eating’ (cf. LSAM 48). What seems to be missing in this sacrifice is also the division of the rest of the meat, after the god’s share had been placed on the altar, into equal portions with a double portion for the priestess; perhaps each participant cut off by chance a limb from the victim, as in an Arcadian ritual described by Pausanias (8.37.8). In an Appendix, P. discusses an honorific decree of a cult association of worshippers of the Agathe Theos for a woman from Kallatis (SEG LVI 203, 3rd cent.) [EBGR 2008, 155]. This goddess is only attested in a dedication from Piraeus (IG II2 4589). This inscription was found close to a spot that has yielded inscriptions pertaining to the cult of Kalliste, whom Pausanias identified with Artemis (1.29.2). Agathe Thea and Kalliste may be epithets describing Artemis’ nature. The woman from Kallatis is honored for the preparation of a chair and a table (στρῶσις τοῦ θρόνου, ἐπιτραπέζωσις) and the setting up of a torch (δᾶιδα ἔστησεν τῆι θεῶι ἐν πάσαις ταῖς συνόδοις). For the latter ritual, P. adduces Theophrastos’ description of the chatterbox (Characters 3.3), who set up a huge torch during the mysteries. The same ritual is also attested as an honor paid to the statue of Ariarathes by the Dionysiac

Kernos, 27 | 2014 322

artists, who were to crown the statue, burn incense, and set up a torch (IG II2 1330, ca. 130 BCE). Unfortunately, it is not clear what the ritual entailed and how it was related to the nature of the Agathe Theos. [Both in the Eleusinian context and in the context of the meetings of the association it seems that we are dealing with nocturnal ceremonies; they make sense in connection with both the Eleusinian goddesses and with Artemis. It is very probable that the context also of the rituals for Ariarathes’ statue is that of nocturnal celebrations of the Dionysiac artists].

273 97) R. PARKER, “The Thessalian Olympia”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 111–118: A Thessalian decree from Aigai in Asia Minor attests the celebration of the festival Olympia in Thessaly [EBGR 2009, 98; SEG LIX 1406; BE 2012, 253]. Because of the mention of ‘the Thessalians’, i.e. a Thessalian federation, P. dates the decree to ca. 280 BCE, before Antigonos Gonatas gained control over Thessaly. The sanctuary of Zeus Olympios (Olympion) cannot have been a sanctuary on top of Mt. Olympos but probably a sanctuary on Larisean territory. The Aiolians, Koans, and Magnesians were honored because they performed a rite and a sacrifice to Olympian Zeus and the hero Thettalos. This cannot have taken place in a place in Asia Minor but at the Thessalian Olympia. This corresponds to the custom of Hellenistic cities and koina to invite to festivals cities and koina with whom they were connected with kinship [see also the observations of J.-C. DECOURT, B. HELLY, BE 2012, 253].

274 98) I. PATERA, “Changes and Arrangements in a Traditional Cult: The Case of the Eleusinian Rituals”, in RitualDynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean, p. 119–137: P. presents a panorama of changes in ritual practices in a very traditional and conservative cult: the cult of Demeter and Kore in Eleusis (5th cent. BCE — 3rd cent. CE). Through a study of the epigraphic and archaeological evidence she shows that changes or arrangements were decided at critical moments in order to overcome temporary difficulties. Changes are attested both in the ritual norms and in the actual performance of the rituals. P. examines the following developments: the extension of participation, temporary changes in the calendar of initiation in favor of monarchs (I.Eleusis 483), the introduction of Asklepios’ cult (IG II 2 4960), the restoration of ancestral sacrifices (IG II2 1338), temporary interruptions of the cult because of wars, the introduction of spectacular ornaments (I.Eleusis 300: τὸ περὶ τὰ μυστήρια μεγαλοπρεπὲς περιττοτέρας ἐκπλήξεως ὑπὸ παντὸς ἀνθρώπου καὶ τοῦ προσήκοντος ἀξιοῦται κόσμου), the adjustment of the procession (I.Eleusis 41; LSCG 8), the administration of the cult (truce and finances: IG I3 6 = I.Eleusis 19 = LSCG Suppl. 3; first- fruits offerings: IG I3 78 = I.Eleusis 28; aparche: I.Eleusis 142 = LSCG Suppl. 13; hieropoioi and epistatai: IG I3 32 and 391), conflicts concerning the jurisdiction over the sanctuary, and changes regarding pyres, the use of kernoi and plemochoai, the Sacred House, and the eschatological aspects of the mysteries. The factors that led to changes include Athens’ imperial aspirations, its political subordination to ambitious statesmen and monarchs, the opposition between the sacred officials of Eleusis and the Athenian state, the introduction of new cults, wars, and the personal initiatives of individuals.

275 99) S. PERROT, “Récompenses et rémunérations des musiciens à Delphes”, in L’argent dans les concours,p. 283–299: P. studies the various expenses and material rewards of musicians in Delphi, adducing inscriptions that refer to the activities of musicians during contests (Pythia, Soteria), during recitals (F.Delphes III.4.361 = CID IV 49), and in the regular cult service. P. also collects information for the organization of musicians in groups and the diverse attitudes towards money rewards. An interesting phenomenon

Kernos, 27 | 2014 323

that reveals the reservation towards money awards is the erasure of passages recording the payment of money in some inscriptions (F.Delphes III.1.249; Syll.3 689, 737).

276 100) V.C. PETRAKOS, Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2010, Athens, 2011, 22. During excavations of a building of religious function (temple?) in Thouria (Messenia), a treasure-box was discovered. An inscription gives the names of two hierothytai and three damiourgoi, under whom the treasure-box was made, as well as the name of the architect Theodoros (late 4th/early 3rd cent.).

277 101) N. PETROCHEILOS, Συμβολὲς στὴν ἱστορία καὶ προσωπογραφία τῆς ἀρχαίας Ἄνδρου. Ἐπιγραφικὲς καὶ φιλολογικές μαρτυρίες, Andros, 2010 [BE 2011, 474]: P. presents a corpus of the 219 inscriptions hitherto known from the island (inedita are marked with an asterisk). Cult regulations: For a rock-cut regulation concerning a festival on the 14th of the month Ἠρησιών (91) see EBGR 2009, 221. Another rock-cut regulation warns women not to defecate in the area of a sanctuary (96). Festivals and rituals: A document provides rules for the organization of the Andrian theoria sent to Delphi (CID I 7 = 1, ca. 425). An Andrian decree concerns the acceptance of the Soteria [see EBGR 2008, 124]. An honorific decree for a gymnasiarchos (9, ca. 175–159) provides information on the celebrations that took place in the gymnasion (procession and sacrifice on the birthday of Eumenes II; sacrifices to Asklepios, Hygieia, Hermes, and Herakles). An honorific decree for a priest mentions a banquet to which he invited not only citizens but also freedmen and foreigners (18, 1st cent.) [cf. EBGR 2010, 182]. Cult officials: Inscriptions mention the daughter of a high priest (52), a priest of Zeus Ma[--] (*101), priests (55, 56), a priestess (58), and a priestess of Dionysos (121). Ruler cult: Numerous altars were dedicated to Hadrian (74–80, *81-*83, 84); a building (macellum?) was dedicated to Antoninus Pius, Lucius Verus, and Faustina (85). Dedications to: Artemis (118), Demeter and Kore (98), Dionysos Megas (119), Eileithyia (97), Herakles (90; a votive relief), Hermes (100, dedication of the doors and side-doors of a building by the agoranomoi), Homonoia (*110), Meter Theon (*103) [see EBGR 2010, 149], Mithras (124, by a praetorian soldier), Nemesis (104, an altar), Nemesis and Adrasteia (108), the Nymphs (112), Zeus Karpophoros (99), Zeus Ma[--] (*101, by his priest; perhaps Μα[ιμάκτου], related to Meilichios) [the object of the dedication may have been a throne: [τὸν θ?]ρόνον], the Katachthonioi Theoi (114), an unknown goddess (109), and unknown deities (111, 115, 116, *122?). The cult of the Egyptian gods is attested through the famous hymn to Isis (128). no 113 mentions statues of Hestia Boulaia and Apollo Patroios (restored). A relief that mentions Sosineos is identified by P. as a representation of Poseidon (95: Σωσίνεω, 4th cent.); the cult of Poseidon Sosineos is attested in Pantikapaion (CIRB 30). [The text seems to be later (3rd cent.). To judge from the photo, the relief does not represent Poseidon but a reclining man in a funerary banquet scene. Sosineos is attested as a personal name (LGPN II, s.v.). The inscription more likely refers to a deceased man than to a hero; the cult of Σωσίνεως (a hero?) is attested in the sacrificial calendar of Thorikos (SEG XXXIII 147 = NGSL 1 lines 50)]. A text is restored as a dedication to Heros Prophylax (116 = IG XII Suppl. 269: [ἥρωι] Προφύλακι) [more likely a reference to the protection of the city (προφυλακὴ̣[ν τῆς πόλεως; cf. I.Histriae 15 l. 50 and 55; IG XII.4.99 line 27]. There is a votive relief with the Thracian Rider (125 = CIG 2054) [but not from Andros. This is a pierre errante from Thrace or Macedonia (see SEG XXXVI 769)]. Sanctuaries: The boundaries of sanctuaries were marked through rock-cut boundary markers of the sanctuaries of Zeus Meilichios (89 and 92) and Zeus, Ge, and Helios (93, 94: Διός, Γῆς, Ἡλίου περιφέρεια). Inscriptions

Kernos, 27 | 2014 324

refer to the dedication of a building as aparche (only restored: 120 = IG XII.5.736), the restoration of a building by a priestess of Dionysos (1st cent. AD; 121), and repairs in a temple and a pronaos (123, 2nd cent. CE). Zagora: The graffiti on vases from Zagora include dedications to Athena Polias (199, late 6th cent.) and Herakles (201, late 5th cent.).

278 102) G. PETZL, “Keine Szepter auf Gräbern”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 123–126: Both ‘confession inscriptions’ and grave inscriptions attest to the erection of scepters, as symbols of divine power, in order to prevent crimes (e.g. TAM V.1.159, 160, 167a, 172; SEG XXVIII 917; XXXII 1222; XXXIII 1029–1030; XXXIV 1231; XL 1100; LIII 1344); those who ignored them were threated with divine wrath. Two new grave inscriptions attest this practice (EBGR 2009, 5; SEG LVIII 1359). The scepters were not erected near the graves but in sanctuaries, where the imprecations took place.

279 103) P. PILHOFER, Neues aus der Welt der frühen Christen, Stuttgart, 2011: P.’s collection of studies on subjects relating to early Christianity includes the discussion of several inscriptions. On p. 18–22, he discusses the similarity in expression between New Testament sources and polytheistic inscriptions as regards divine instructions given in a dream (κατ᾿ ὄναρ, χρηματισθείς, ex visu), with references to CIL VI 27365 and IG X. 2.1.67 (ph.). In a discussion of the addresses of Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians, P. studies the origin of the priests of the emperor cult in Ankyra (p. 111–125: text; German translation); he doubts S. Mitchell’s view that most if not all the priests were Celts or had strong Celtic connections.

280 104) J.-L. PODVIN, Luminaire et cultes isiaques, Montagnac, 2011: P. presents a detailed study of lamps with Isiac iconographic themes and discusses the use of lamps in Isiac rituals. The subjects discussed include the types of lamps, their iconography (representations of Isis, Sarapis, and other Egyptian gods and groups of gods, lamps in the form of a ship and a mummy), the production and circulation of lamps, the domestic, public, and religious places in which they are discovered, and the use of lamps in rituals (167–188: λυχναψία, λυχνοκαΐα in temples, use in festivals and processions, initiation ceremonies, funerary cult, and pilgrimages, dedication of lamps). For the study of the rituals, P. adduces the epigraphic sources; many lamps were inscribed with acclamations.

281 105) A.H. RASMUSSEN, “A Note on the Appointment of Priests in Attic Gene”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 120–125 [BE 2012, 161]: Responding to the study of J.H. Blok and S.D. Lambert on the priests of Athenian gene (EBGR 2009, 23), R. discusses the priesthoods of Athena Polias and Poseidon Erechtheus. He argues that Ps.-Plutarch, Life of Lykourgos (842f-843c) does not prove that the priesthood of Poseidon Erechtheus was monopolized by a special family branch, that of Lykourgos. Similarly, an inscription commemorating the priestess Lysimache (IG II2 3455) cannot be regarded as proof that a particular branch of the Eteoboutadai, coming from the deme Bate, monopolized the priesthood of Athena Polias. The evidence concerning the Salaminioi shows that priests were appointed by lot from among all the members of a genos.

282 106) S. REMIJSEN, “The So-Called ‘Crown-Games’: Terminology and Historical Context of the Ancient Categories for Agones”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 97–109 [BE 2012, 131]: R. discusses the chronological development of the various designations of agonistic festivals as στεφανῖται, ἱεροί, ἱεροὶ καὶ στεφανῖται, χρηματῖται, (ἡμι)ταλαντιαῖοι, and θεματικοί/ θεματῖται. Her main conclusions are that one should distinguish between the descriptive categories of ‘crown-games’ and ‘prize-games’ found in literary sources,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 325

and the technical categories of festivals attested in inscriptions. The modern dichotomy between ‘crown-games’ and ‘prize-games’ does not correspond to an ancient contrast between crown/sacred contests and other groups; only the introduction of θεματικοὶ ἀγῶνες in the 2nd and 3rd cent. created a new distinct category of contests, for which funds were laid down for a regular organization. The award of a material prize was never a criterion for the technical categorization of festivals in inscriptions; a technical categorization developed in the mid-3rd cent. and was subject to further evolution. The term στεφανίτης was replaced by ἱερός in the late Hellenistic or early Imperial period. In the Hellenistic period each city decided for itself which contests were stephanitic and which were not, whereas in the Imperial period the emperor decided about the grant of the title ‘sacred’ to an agon.

283 107) G.H. RENBERG, W.S. BUBELIS, “The Epistolary Rhetoric of Zoilos of Aspendos and the Early Cult of Sarapis: Re-Reading P.Cair.Zen. I 59034”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 169–200: The letter of Zenon to the dioiketes Apollonios (P.Cair.Zen. I 59034, 257 BCE) is one of our most important sources for the promotion of an ancient cult, in this case the cult of Sarapis. The authors present a new edition and translation of the letter and examine in great detail the strategies used by Zenon in order to gain Apollonios’ support for the construction of a sanctuary for Sarapis, at which members of the Greek and Macedonian community could worship the Hellenized version of Sarapis in his own right. Zenon’s dream, in which Sarapis gave him instructions, can be placed in a contemporary religious context of epiphanic dreams; it did not require incubation.

284 108) J. REYNOLDS, “A New Inscription from Ptolemais in Libya”, in Onomatologos, p. 119– 120 [BE 2011, 659]: Ed. pr. of a dedication from Ptolemais (early 3rd cent. CE): Μᾶρκος Αὐρήλι|ος ΓΟΥΝΘΑΣΣΟ|Σ ἀντισωθ[εὶς] | ἀνέθηκα ([the correct reading is: Μᾶρκος Αὐρήλι| ος Γουνθας σ<ώ>σαντι σωθ[εὶς] | ἀνέθηκα (‘I, Marcus Aurelius Gounthas, made this dedication to the [god] who saved me, after I have been saved’); see É. PERRIN- SAMINADAYAR, An.Ép. 2010, 1764].

285 109) K. RIGSBY, “The New Lamella from Pherae”, RhM 154 (2011), p. 61–67: R. discusses the new metrical lamella from Pherai (SEG LV 612; EBGR 2005, 117; 2009, 20, 58), which has been associated with Dionysiac-Orphic initiation. He proposes to restore the last phrase of vs. 1 as ἔχω ὄργια [κρύπτειν] or [κεύθειν] (cf. AP XII 119: ὄργια κρύπτειν; Macrobius 1.18.20: ὄργια κεύθειν; Merkelbach–Stauber, Steinepigramme I 01/12/09: σιγᾶν ὅτι κρυπτὸν ἐπιστάμενος) to keep the rites secret was a fundamental expectation for an initiate. This is why the text does not clearly identify the cult into which the bearer was initiated. The text states: ‘send me to the congregations of the initiates. I can keep the rites secret, the ceremonies of Demeter Chthonia and the Mountain Mother’. In this restoration, which eliminates a reference to Dionysos, a living initiate identified himself before his ceremonious entry to the community of initiates (cf. Plautus, Miles Gloriosus 1016, for a reference to a signum Baccharum); the speaker is not a dead initiate identifying himself to the guardians of the underworld. The private cult in question, dedicated to the syncretic figure of Demeter and Meter Oreia, drew its ideas and utterances from diverse celebratory precedents.

286 110) I. RUTHERFORD, “The Koan-Delian Ritual Complex: Apollo and Theoria in a Sacred Law from Kos”, in L. ATHANASSAKI, R.P. MARTIN, J.F. MILLER (eds.), Apolline Politics and Poetics, Athens, 2009, p. 655–687: R. discusses in detail a fragmentary cult regulation from Kos (LSCG 156; Insc.Cos ED 55, 4th cent.) [IG XII.4.1332], which refers to the cult of Apollo Delios, whose worship is well attested on Kos (PH 125; Iscr.Cos ED 45; LSCG 155 D).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 326

The text refers to sacrifices, those who were to perform them, the purpose, the offering, the prerogatives of the priest, and, in some cases, prohibitions against removal of meat (ἐξαγωγή) from Kos (not from the venue of the sacrifice). R. distinguishes six entries: 1) a sacrifice to Apollo (Dalios?); 2) a sacrifice for good omens and fair winds for the theoroi sent to Apollo Delios; 3) an undetermined sacrifice; 4) a sacrifice offered by the Knidians; 5) an offering on the occasion of theoriai sent to Delphi; 6) a sacrifice on behalf of the Amphiareidai. Given that the theoriai sent to Delos represented the Koan state, R. infers that the festival took place in the main polis, not at the Dalion presumably located in Halasarna. The reference to Knidians and other groups suggests that there was an interstate network or amphictyony that sent offerings to a common sanctuary; possible members of such an amphictyony would include Koan demes (Isthmos, Halasarna), Kalymnos, Rhodes, Kasos, Nisyros, and Telos. The main activity of such an amphictyony was the sending of theoriai to Delos and Delphi (or a single theoria sent to both sanctuaries). The deme of Isthmos had a special place in this festival and in the theoria;possibly it had been the primary point of contacts with Delos. The embassy was led by the Amphiareidai and included a group of nine girls (ἀγρεταί), possibly representing nine subdivisions of the city, representatives of the Pamphyloi, and non-Koans. The decree was probably passed on the occasion of the Koan synoecism of 366 BCE and articulated the new political unity.

287 111) P. SÄNGER, “Neue Inscriften aus der nördlichen Außenmauer des ephesischen Theaters”, Tyche 26 (2011), p. 235–246 [BE 2012, 23]: Ed. pr. of a dedication of a statue of Hygieia (Ephesos, late 2nd/early 3rd cent.).

288 112) C. SÁNCHEZ NATALÍAS, “The Bologna defixio(nes) Revisited”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 201– 217: S. presents new critical editions of two Latin defixiones acquired by the Museo Archaeologico Civico di Bologna and published by A. Olivieri in 1899 (“Tavolette plumbee bolognesi di defixiones”, Studi Italiani di Filologia Classica 7 [1899], p. 193–198), considered lost until 2009. The author discusses in detail the formulas used by the defigens. We present the translations of the two texts (4th/5th cent.): 1) ’Porcello. Porcello the veterinarian. Porcello the physician. The veterinarian. Destroy his entire body, his head, teeth, eyes --. Let Porcello and his wife, Maurilla, be --. May all Porcello’s body, limbs, entrails -- disintegrate, languish, and collapse. Porcello the veterinarian and Maurilla his wife. Porcello. Porcello. Veterinarian (?) Porcello the veterinarian. Destroy, crush, kill, strangle Porcello and his wife Maurilla. Their soul, heart, buttocks, liver --’. 2) ’-- tertian, quartan fevers -- pallor, cold, disease -- Porcello the veterinarian -- fire’.

289 113) H.G. SARADI, D. ELIOPOULOS, “Late Paganism and Christianisation in Greece”, in Late Antique Paganism, p. 263–309: The authors summarize the archaeological and epigraphic evidence for the continuation of the traditional religious practices in Late Antique Greece, especially in Athens, Eleusis, and Phyla (evidence for taurobolium: IG II2 4841– 4842), Corinth, Argos, Delphi, and Olympia. They also discuss the use of ‘pagan’ statuary in Christian contexts. They briefly discuss the epitaph of Nikandros in Edessa (Feisseil, Recueil no 5), a convert to Christianity; the epitaph refers to resurrection and baptism but also uses the ‘pagan’ metaphor of the ascent of the soul to the ethereal aeons’ (ψυχὴν αἰθερείαις αἰῶσι θέτο). They conclude that the tenacity of late paganism differed from one site to another. Often, the causes of the destruction of temples and statues cannot be determined with certainty. The ritual activity continued into the late

Kernos, 27 | 2014 327

4th cent. The late 4th and early 5th cent. were periods of struggle. Christian churches were spreading from the mid-5th cent.

290 114) M. SARTRE, Inscriptions grecques et latines de la Syrie. Tome XIII. Fascicule 2. Bostra (Supplément) et la Plaine de la Nuqrah, Beyrouth, 2011 (avec la collaboration d’A. SARTE- FAURIAT) [BE 2012, 480–483]: The new volume of this corpus presents addenda to the incriptions of Bostra and the plain of Nuqrah. Bostra: Dedications are addressed to Theos Dousares (9473), Zeus Kyrios (9473a*; ὑπὲρ τέκνων, εὐσεβῶν), and an anonymous god (9473b; εὐσεβείας χάριν). Several dedications were made pro salute/ ὑπὲρ σωτηρίας of emperors (9475*-9477*, 9478). Magic: S. presents an extensive commentary on a defixio included in EBGR 1991, 128. Deir: A dedication to the Tyche of a man (9571). Kharaba: A dedication in expression of piety (9676, εὐσεβῶν ἀνέθηκα), and a dedication to Zeus on behalf of emperor Gordian (9677a*). Al-Ghariyyeh al-Sharqiyyeh: A dedication for the god of Ameros (9768a). An inscription records the acclamation εἷς [θεὸς μόν]ος? (9769). An epitaph designates a grave as a temple of Plouton and Persephone: Διομήδης πινυτός με ἐδείματο τῷδ᾿ ἐνὶ χώρῳ | αὐτῷ καὶ παίδεσσιν καὶ αἰδοίῃ παράκοιτι | νηὸν Πλουτῆϊ καὶ ἐπαινῇ Περσεφόνείῃ | ἐσθλῆς ἐκ γεωργίης. Νῦν δ᾿ οὐδενός εἰμι τάφος. | [- - -] εἰ δ᾿ ἄρα καὶ δεῖ | δεξαίμην γηράσκοντας, εὐδαίμονας, τεκνώσαντας (‘l’avisé Diomèdès m’a construit en ce lieu pour lui-même, ses enfants et sa vénérable épouse, temple pour Pluton et la redoutable Perséphone, grâce à la riche agriculture. Maintenant, je ne suis le tombeau de personne [---] Mais si donc il le faut, puissé-je les recevoir âgés, heureux, et pourvus d’enfants’). The same text was inscribed a second time, probably for a different grave (9774). Another epitaph (9775) compares the grave with the house of eternal night (αἰῶνος μακροῦ νύχιον δόμον). Kérak: Dedications to Zeus Marnas, κύριος (9798) and Ζεὺς Μέγιστος Κανατηνός (9799). Ta’leh: An enigmatic epigram reads: ἀγλαίῃ πίσυνοι ναοὺς δύο τῷδ᾿ ἐνὶ χώρῳ | ἀλ<λ>ήλους φιλέοντες Καπρήσιοι τούσδε ἔδιμαν | στέμ<μ>ασι καὶ χάρισι πιστοὺς φίλους ἀμφαγαπῶντε[ς], Σομεθον τε καὶ Σαμεθον θεῶν ἀριδ<ε>ικέτ[α] τέκ{ΤΟ}να (‘faisant confiance à la beauté, les Kaprèsioi qui s’aiment les uns les autres ont construit ces deux sanctuaires en ce lieu-ci, entourant de leur affection par des couronnes et des marques d’égard leurs amis fidèles, Somethos et Samethos, remarquables enfants des dieux’). Without entirely excluding a Christian context, S. wonders why two associated temples were dedicated to Somethos and Samethos, designated as ‘sons of the gods’ (9822*). Al-Tireh: Three commemorative inscriptions (with the formula μνησθῇ) record dedications in a sanctuary (9842a-c). Two men dedicated a πῶλος (a statuette? or an animal for sacrifice?) in expression of piety (εὐσεβείας εἵνεκεν); the other two dedications record the construction of lintels (ὑπέρθυρα). Saama’: A man constructed a niche (κόγχη; ‘une abside couverte d’une demie coupole en forme de coquille’). The dedicant uses the acclamation εἷς θεός (9844*). Doroa: Two dedications ὑπὲρ σωτηρίας of emperors (9847, 9848*). Mleihat Sharqiyyeh: The acclamation εἷς θεός is used in an epitaph (9862). Sawara: A building inscription records the restoration and construction of ‘the Great Fortune of the village’, i.e. of a temple of Tyche (9882). Another inscription contains an acclamation: ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ· ἰς αἰῶνα εὐτυχίτω (9883). Namr al-Hawa: A Christian inscription uses the traditional apotropaic formula Ἡρακλῆς Καλλίνικος ἐνθάδε κατοικεῖ· μηδὲν εἰσείτω κακόν, replacing Herakles with Jesus († Ὁ Θεοῦ παῖς, Θεὸς Χριστὸς ἐνθάδε † κατοικεῖ. Α†Ω· μηδὲν εἰσείτω κακόν; 9927). 291 115) H. SCHWARZER, Altertümer von Pergamon XV. Die Stadtgrabung. Teil 4. Das Gebäude mit dem Podiensaal in der Stadtgrabung von Pergamon. Studien zu sakralen Banketträumen mit

Kernos, 27 | 2014 328

Liegepodien in der Antike, Berlin, 2008: The publication of the ‘Podiensaalgebäude’ in Pergamon, which was used for ritual banquets of a Dionysiac association of boukoloi (p. 92–103), includes several inscriptions (p. 235–237 and 243): a small fragment with a form of the word μυστήρια (S12, 2nd cent. CE; SEG LVIII 1409); a dedication to Dionysos (S13, 2nd/1st cent.; SEG LVIII 1391); dedications to Dionysos Kathegemon (S18, late 1st cent.; SEG LVIII 1392) and Augustus (S19; SEG LVIII 1384) by an archiboukolos; a dedication to the Korybantes (S20, Imperial period; SEG LIX 1396); an altar dedicated to Attalos Soter (Attalos I, late 3rd cent.; SEG LVIII 1382); a small altar dedicated to Hera (S17, 2nd cent. CE; SEG LVIII 1394); a dedication to Hadrian Olympios (U3; SEG LVIII 1385). In a discussion of the association of boukoloi, S. republishes the relevant inscriptions (98–102: I.Pergamon 222, 485–488).

292 116) C.-G. SCHWENTZEL, “Théocraties et rois clients: Antiochos Ier de Commagène et Hérode le Grand”, DHA 36/1 (2010), p. 119–136: Both Antiochos I of Kommagene, with his cult reforms, and Herod the Great in Judaea promoted the idea of a divine origin of their rule as a unifying factor in their realms. Despite the differences, which originated in the different religious tradition of the two kingdoms, there are similarities, especially in the extensive building programs. S. examines theocratic aspects in the cult reforms of Antiochos and the relevant inscriptions (esp. OGIS 383): the introduction of the ruler’s cult, his presentation as a transmitter of divine words and divine norms, the consecration of his image, the appointment of priests belonging to the aristocracy, and the creation of a network of sanctuaries (hierothesia) in his kingdom.

293 117) G. STAAB, “Das Grabepigramm des Euelpistos aus Tomi”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 97–102: See supra no 8.

294 118) E. STAVRIANOPOULOU, “‘Promises of Continuity: The Role of Tradition in the Forming of Rituals in Ancient Greece”, in Ritual Dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean,p. 85–103: S. examines how ‘tradition’ was used as an argument in favour of or against transformations in ritual practice by looking at the codification of ritual practice in stone. She examines two cases: the speech of Lysias Against Nikomachos (30), concerning the addition of sacrifices in the Athenian sacrificial calendar, and the Athenian decree on the renewal of the Thargelia (LSCG Suppl. 14, 129/8 BCE). As her analysis shows, the latter text provides an instructive example of the preservation of traditional ritual actions and, at the same time, of their alteration. The ‘original’ status of the festival, celebrated by phratries, is displayed vaguely through such expressions as ‘norm of the forefathers’, ‘custom of the Athenian demos’, and ‘ancestral tradition’. In the past, Apollo, reinterpreted as a ‘god of the fatherland and of the forefathers’, had prescribed the resumption of his cult and the performance of sacrifices. These stipulations ‘stated in the earlier decrees’ were now improved by means of the new decree. Great emphasis is now given to the organisation and arrangement of the festivities (processions, prayers, sacrifices). All these changes come under the heading of ‘maintenance of the ancestral customs and norms’.

295 119) D. SUMMA, Inscriptiones Graecae Graeciae Septentrionalis. Pars I. Inscriptiones Phocidis, Locridis, Aetoliae, Acarnaniae, Insularum Maris Ionii. Editio altera. Fasciculus V. Inscriptiones Locridis Orientalis, Berlin, 2011 [BE 2012, 245]: The corpus of the inscriptions of Eastern Lokris contains several inscriptions of religious interest (new texts are marked with an asterisk). Martino: A dedication (of an honorific statue?) to the gods (1843 = IG VII 4166). Halai: A catalogue of the individuals responsible for a festival (1864, late 3rd cent.) mentions the choregoi of comedies, the weavers of robes, probably for the statue of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 329

Athena (πεταμνυφάντειραι, i.e. πετάσματος ὑφάντειραι), the officials ‘for the five days’ (πεντάμεροι), the hieroi, lampadarchoi, and supervisor of the finances. Dedications to: Athena (1867–1870, 1890*, 1896*) and the gods (1871). Kyrtona: Two men dedicated to Demeter and Kore the statue of their mother after she had served as a priestess (1907, 2nd cent.). Opous: The Isthmian and Nemean branch of the association of the Dionysiac artists whose seat was in Opous honored Soteles for his support and his piety towards the gods. Soteles and his wife had given an endowment to Apollo, Hermes, and the Muses (ἀνιέρωσις), stipulating that funds should be given to the association for an annual sacrifice to these gods (1918, 2nd cent.). A small fragment contains a copy of the dossier of documents concerning the conviction of officialsfor financial mismanagement of Apollo’s sanctuary in Delphi (CID IV 119 A-H; 1921, ca. 117 BCE) [see EBGR 2010, 186]. Dedications to: Zeus Patroos and Athena (1926, ca. 350 BCE), Artemis Ennodia (1929, 1st cent; by her priest), Hermes and Herakles (1936–1937, 1st cent. CE; honorific statues of a gymnasiarchos and benefactor), and the gods (honorific statues: 1935, 1st cent.; 1940, Imperial period). An altar was set up for sacrifices to Zeus Patroios and Athena, and Zeus Soter and Athena (1927, 4th cent.) [for such altars see EBGR 2010, 144]. Theopompos dedicated images of Dionysos, Apollo and other gods (1928, 4th cent.). Cn. Calpurnius Helix, priest of Augustus and agonothetes of the trieteric Dionysia dedicated a fountain to the Populus Romanus, Augustus, and the Demos (1930, reign of Augustus). L. Allius Tauros made a donation to the gymnasia for the Gens Augustorum (Γένει Σεβαστῶν) and the city (1931, 1st cent. CE). Kynos: A vase dedicated to the gods (?, 1996, 5th cent.). Alope: A dedication to the gods (2003*, 4th cent.). Naryx: A letter of Hadrian refers to the local mythical heroes (2018, 138 CE; see EBGR 2006, 67). Komnina: A dedication to Eileithyia (2029, Hellenistic). Anavra: A sacred manumission in the form of dedication to Sarapis (2030*, 2nd cent.). Unknown provenance: An inscribed wheel dedicated by a pediarches to Apollo (2042, 6th cent., from Galaxidi?).

296 120) D. SUMMA, “Ricerche sulla vita teatrale e il suo finanziamento in Locride”, in L’argent dans les concours, p. 107–125 [BE 2011, 309]: The evidence for musical performances in western Lokris is almost non-existent (the poetess Aristodama: IG IX2. 1.3.740), although there is some evidence for the cult of Dionysos (Naupaktos: Dionysia; Physkos: month Dionysios; Dionysiac thiasos: IG IX2.1.3.624, 670). The office of the agonothetes in Physkos is related with the festival Rhieia or, more probably, with the federal festival of Athena Ilias (cf. IG IX2.1.3.688). In eastern Lokris, the evidence is more abundant. In addition to a theater in Naryx, where the festival Aianteia is attested (cf. IG IX2.1.3.706; IG IV2.1.629), there is evidence for numerous victors in musical and dramatic contests originating mainly from Opous. Dramatic festivals existed in Halai and Opous. With regard to the funding of contests, the Aianteia were publicly funded, whereas private sponsors are attested for a contest of comedies in Halai (2 choregoi) and for the trieteric Dionysia in Opous (an agonothetes). A decree of the Dionysiac artists in Opous honors a local benefactor (IG IX2.1.5.1918).

297 121) P. TALLOEN, L. VERCAUTEREN, “The Fate of Temples in Late Antique Anatolia”, in Late Antique Paganism, p. 347–387: The authors discuss the primarily archaeological evidence for the very diverse fate of temples in Late Antique Asia Minor: decay because of lack of financial backing and deteriorating legal status, violent destruction, use as quarries for building projects, secular and religious conversion. The rather scanty evidence for religious violence includes a 2nd-cent. CE dedicatory inscription from the sanctuary of Demeter and Kore in Sagalassos (Sagalassos IV, Leuven, 1997, p. 147 and 149), which was

Kernos, 27 | 2014 330

violently removed and re-used to cover a sewer; the Christian acclamation ‘One God’ was carved on the mutilated relief (p. 352f.).

298 122) P. THEMELIS, “Die Agora von Messene”, in H. FRIELINGHAUS, J. STROSZEK (eds.), Neue Forschungen zu griechischen Städten und Heiligtümern. Festschrift für Burkhardt Wesenberg zum 65. Geburtstag, Möhnesee, 2010, p. 105–125: T. summarizes the results of excavations in the agora of Messene. Literary sources, archaeological finds and inscriptions attest the existence of sanctuaries of Poseidon, Zeus Soter, Aphrodite, and Meter Theon. T. presents already published dedications to Aphrodite, Apollo Agyieus, Megale Meter, Poseidon, Zeus, Zeus Soter, Zeus Kasios, inscribed roof tiles with the name of Zeus, and a boundary marker of the sanctuary of Aphrodite. He also mentions the following inedita: two dedications of votive reliefs depicting a hand by a certain Zoilos, one to Zeus, the other to Artemis; a dedication to Apollo Agyieus; and a dedication to Zeus Soter by a former agonothetes (3rd cent).

299 123) S.R. TOKHTASIEV, “De nouvelles données sur l’histoire de la koiné dans le Nord de la Mer Noire”, in G. VOTTÉRO (ed.), Le grec du monde colonial antique. I.Le N. et N.-O. de la Mer Noire. Actes de la Table ronde de Nancy, 28–29 septembre 2007, Nancy, 2009, p. 33–49 [SEG LIX 844]: Ed. pr. of an inscription from Pantikapaion (1st cent. CE, p. 36 note 11). The text is an interesting acclamation for Zeus Hypsistos: χαῖρε Ζεῦ Ὕψιστ[ε παντο]κράτωρ ἀνίκη[τε - - -] (‘hail, Zeus Hypsistos, ruler of all, invincible’). 300 124) K. TSANTSANOGLOU, “Ἐχέμβροτος Ἀρκάς”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 39–44: The Arcadian Echembrotos won the aulodic contest in the first Pythia in 586 BCE. However, after his victory the competition in this discipline was abolished. Echembrotos dedicated the prize, a tripod, to Herakles in Thebes. The metrical structure of his dedicatory epigram, known from Pausanias (X 7, 6), has puzzled scholars. T. proposes an emendation of the text that solves the metrical problems: Ἐχέμβροτος Ἀρκάς <με> θῆκε τῶι Ἡρακλεῖ | νικήσας τόδ᾿ ἄγαλμα Ἀμφικτιόνων ἐν ἀ<έ>θλοις | Ἕλλησι<ν> δ᾿ ἀείδων μείλεα καὶ ἐλέγους. According to this emendation, the poem consisted of an iambic trimeter followed by an elegiac distich. Such a combination characterized amusing and witty poetry. Echembrotos’ joke consisted in dedicating the tripod that he had won in Delphi to Herakles in Thebes. In this way he alluded to the famous mythological quarrel between Apollo and Herakles in Delphi, when Herakles tried to snatch Apollo’s propetic tripod. Since the sanctuary of Herakles in Thebes bordered that of Apollo Ismenios, the provocation was more obvious. The dedication was made as an act of bitter resentment against the decision of the Amphiktyones who regarded aulody as mournful and inauspicious. Echembrotos states that he will continue to perform his μείλεα καὶ ἐλέγους before all the Greeks. Echembrotos’ wit is also expressed in the poem’s opening: Ἐχέμβροτοσς Ἀρκάς. Τhe gemination of the sigma (σαρκάζειν) announced the poet’s origins and the ironical and scornful nature of his poem.

301 125) E.B. TSIGARIDA, “The Sanctuary of Zeus Ammon at Kallithea (Chalkidike)”, Kernos 24 (2011), p. 165–181: T. summarizes the history of an important sanctuary at Kallithea (Chalkidike). A cult of Dionysos and the Nymphs was practiced in a cave from the late 8th cent. Fragments of vases inscribed with the name of the god have made the identification of the cult possible. The cult of Zeus Ammon was introduced in the early 4th cent., followed by the introduction of the cult of Asklepios (SEG XLIII 353); the existence of water resources was important for all these cults.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 331

302 126) G. VALLARINO, “Nikandre e Nausicaa: due korai archaiche”, in Epigrammata -- Susini, p. 331–344 [BE 2012, 51]: V. presents an excellent analysis of the metrical dedication on the statue of the Naxian Nikandre dedicated to Artemis in Delos (I.Délos 2; IG XII. 5.1425b; CEG 403; ca. 625–600). The text is arranged in such a manner that a reader standing in front of the statue can only read the phrase Φηράσο δ᾿ἄλοχος ν̣<ῦν>, that is, a phrase that highlights Nikandre’s status as a wife. Her statue was probably dedicated on the occasion of her wedding commemorating her passage from the status of a ϙόρη (both ‘daughter’ and ‘unmarried girl’) to that of an ἄλοχος; the recipient of the dedication, Artemis, is a patron of women. The text is closely connected with the encounter between Nausikaa and Odysseus (Odyssey 6.102–109 and 145–159). In both texts Artemis is called ἰοχέαιρα. Nausikaa is compared with Artemis, the goddess to whom Nikandre made her dedication. In the epigram, Nikandre’s social position is identified exclusively through references to male relatives (ϙόρη, κασιγνήτη, ἄλοχος; similarly, in his praise of Nausikaa Odysseus refers to her father and brothers, and alludes to her future husband; his expression μακάρτατος ἔξοχον ἄλλων (6.158) is paralleled by ἔξοχος ἀλήον in Nikandre’s epigram. Finally, Odysseus refers to Delos, the place of Nikandre’s dedication, when he states that only a young branch of the palm tree near the altar of Apollo in Delos surpassed Nausikaa’s beauty. This Homeric scene served as the ideological and literary model for Nikandre’s poem, who dedicated her statue to Artemis, after her wedding, representing herself as a new Nausikaa.

303 127) P. VAN MINNEN, “Contracting Caterers on Keos”, in Myths, Martyrs, and Modernity, p. 209–218: A cult regulation from Koresia on Keos (IG XII.5.647 = LSCG 98, late 3rd/early 2nd cent.) provides information on the practicalities of the organization of a festival and the banquet at the end of the year. Rejecting R. OSBORNE’s understanding of the text as evidence for how sacrifice reinforced the social structure of the city (Classical Landscape with Figures, London, 1987, p. 180f.), getting the victims from its territory and distributing the meat to those who are important to the city, v.M. discusses in detail the clauses and translates the text. As v.M. points out, O. omitted the first lines, which refer to the duty of the chief magistrates in office to ‘contract’ (ἐγδιδόναι) with an individual who would provide the victims and other foodstuffs for the festival. There is no indication that the meat had to come from the island; the caterer might have come from Athens, with which Keos had close contacts; the inscription was cut by an Athenian mason (S.V. TRACY, Attic Letter-Cutters of 229 to 86 B.C., Berkeley, 1990, p. 66). The text does not prescribe the sacrifice of only one mature ox and one sheep as Osborne and other scholars assumed. It simply states that any ox and any female sheep he slaughtered had to be mature; if he slaughtered a pig, it had to be older than 18 months. The caterer must have estimated the amount of meat needed in Koresia (and possibly other cities that celebrated a festival at the same time) and provided it. ‘He had to provide a feast for the citizens, for those invited by the city, for resident foreigners and all freemen who pay their taxes to Koresia’ (Osborne’s translation: ‘and for all that pay taxes to Koresia’); the text also mentions other foodstuffs to be used during the feast. All the entrails were consumed (not ‘part of the entrails’). The text lists the responsibilities of the magistrates in the examination of the victims and weighing the meat. V.M. insists that ἱερεῖα should not be translated as ‘sacrificial victim’ but as ‘animal to be ritually slaughtered’ (p. 212), that θύειν means ‘to slaughter’, not ‘to sacrifice’ (since the caterer could not perform a religious ritual; p. 213), and that τῶν ἱερῶν προΐστασθαι means that the chief magistrates performed

Kernos, 27 | 2014 332

some kind of ritual, e.g. a libation: ‘neither the θύειν in line 7 nor τῶν ἱερῶν in lines 15–16 have anything to do with sacrifice’ (p. 215; Osborne’s translation: ‘preside at the sacrifice’). The caterer served the evening meal until sunset, and if he performed all the duties as agreed, he received the rest of his payment. The text is an ‘administrative law’, not a law about sacrifice. [v.M. is right in the assumption the caterer did not perform a sacrifice himself; it is also striking that no god is mentioned; but τῶν ἱερῶν προΐστασθαι probably means more than ‘say grace’ (p. 215), rather: ‘preside over the sacred rites’; the festival is explicitly characterized as an ἑορτή (l. 20), not simply πανήγυρις or ἑστίασις; it is a religious festival; the lack of reference to a particular god can easily be explained if this decree supplements an existing law. The law was not abolished as the speculative restoration of line 1 states (τὸν δὲ νόμο[ν λῦσαι]) but probably confirmed and supplemented with additional measures concerning the supply of animals].

304 128) P.E. VAN ‘T WOUT, “Neglected Evidence for the Nature of ἀτιμία. Agora P 17615 and DTA 107”, ZPE 176 (2011), p. 126–134: The author discusses an Attic judiciary defixio that uses the word ἄτιμος (DTA 107: ‘as this lead is ἄτιμος and cold, so let that man and what belongs to him be ἄτιμα and cold’; 5th/4th cent.). A comparison with other curse tablets leads to the conclusion that the intended effect was the victim’s inability to manifest himself successfully as a litigant (cf. Aristophanes, Wasps 946).

305 129) J. VERDEJO MANCHADO, B. ANTELA-BERNÁRDEZ, “IG II2 1334: A Crown for Onaso and the Archon Athenion”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 91–96: The authors republish with detailed commentary the honorific decree of a cult association (orgeones) of Meter Theon for the priestess Onaso (IG II2 1334, ca. 70 BCE). The text gives a summary of the duties of the priestess (selection by lot, care for order in the sanctuary, offering sacrifices). Onaso served twice as priestess, the second time during the archonship of Athenion, whom the authors identify as the Athenian supporter of Mithridates VI. [Both the restoration [Ἀ]θ̣ηνίωνος and the proposed identification are plausibly rejected by S.V. TRACY, “Line 6 of IG II2 1334 Revisited”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 139–140].

306 130) D. VIVIERS, “Élites et processions dans les cités. Une géometrie variable?”, in La cité et ses élites, p. 163–181: V. reflects on the social and political importance of religious processions in Greek cities, pointing to the large variety of criteria applied for the participation and position of individuals. He stresses that processions did not only serve the prestige of the rich but also expressed order, social cohesion (e.g. the Panathenaic procession), and concord. He addresses the following aspects: 1) Rank: Various officials were concerned with the organization of processions (ἱεροποιοί, ἐπιμεληταὶ πομπῆς, ἱεροπόλος, πομπαγωγοί); the position of an individual or a group in a procession was subject to diverse criteria, ranging from function or social rank to tribal membership (e.g. IG II2 334 = LSCG 33; IG I3 82 = LSCG 13; I.Ilion 52 = LSAM 9; IG V. 1.1390; F.Delphes III.3.238 = LSCG Suppl. 44; I.Ilion 31; I.Ilion 52 = LSAM 9). In this context, V. summarizes the content of a still unpublished inscription from Itanos on Crete (1st cent.); it lists the names of a chorus of ten girls led by the priestess of Leukothea, who was accompanied by two attendants; the chorus participated in a procession in honor of Leukothea in exactly the order in which their names appeared on the inscription (πομπεύσοντι δὲ καθὼς ἀναγεγραμμέναι ἐντί; p. 167f.). 2) Selection of participants: The selection of participants was a strategy of social distinction; the modes of selection varied (by lot, ancestry, physical beauty and strength, etc.), reflecting certain aspects of a community’s ideology (references to: IG V.1.1390; I.Ilion 52; IG II2 1006; IG XII.9.194).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 333

[On Hellenistic processions see now A. CHANIOTIS, “Processions in Hellenistic Cities: Contemporary Discources and Ritual Dynamics”, in R. ALSTON, O.M. VAN NIJF, C.G. WILLIAMSON (eds.), Cults, Creeds and Contests, Louvain, 2013, p. 21–47].

307 131) J. WALLENSTEN, J. PAKKANEN, “A New Inscribed Statue Base from the Sanctuary of Poseidon at Kalaureia”, OAth 2 (2009), p. 155–165 [SEG LX 367]: Ed. pr. of an inscribed statue base from the sanctuary of Poseidon at Kalaureia (ca. 270–246 BCE?). The inscription records the dedication to Ptolemy II and Arsinoe to Poseidon; the dedicant was the city of Methana, renamed to Arsinoe. The authors suggest a date after Arsinoe’s death and during the Chremonidean War.

308 132) B.L. WICKKISER, “IG II2 4963 and the priesthood of Asklepios in Athens”, ZPE 179 (2011), p. 123–125 [BE 2012, 163]: A fragmentary inscription from Athens records building activity in the sanctuary of Asklepios (IG II2 4963, ca. 400–350). W. observes

E1 that the restoration [οἱ ἱεροποι C0 ντ]ες in the last line is wrong; the preserved letters are ΞΙΣ; also this line is separated with a vacat from the rest of the text and was written later. Consequently, this text cannot be used as the (only) proof for the appointment of hieropoioi by the state.

309 133) P. WILSON, “How Did the Athenian Demes Fund their Theatre?”, in L’argent dans les concours, p. 37–82: Theatrical performances at the Dionysia organized by the Athenian demes were a very elaborate and expensive activity. Of the 18 deme Dionysia for which evidence exists 15 included theatrical events. Small demes, with quota of fewer than 3 bouleutai, presumably did not organize theatrical performances. The most important method of funding was the choregia, attested in 11 demes, usually in the form of collaboration between family members who jointly contributed the funds (synchoregia). Information is provided by honorific decrees for choregoi (e.g. from the deme of the Aixoneis: IG II2 1198, 1200, 1202; SEG XXXVI 186). Also men who were not demesmen occasionally served as choregoi. Honorific inscriptions for both demarchoi and choregoi (e.g. IG II2 1173, 1178) show that the deme’s officials and the choregoi collaborated in the organization of the festival. Demarchoi sometimes contributed private funds for the festivities (I.Eleusis 101, for a sacrifice). Additional funding came from the deme’s funds (e.g. in Ikarion: IG I3 253) and from revenues from the leasing of theaters (Piraeus: Agora XIX L13; Acharnai: IG II2 1206, for which see EBGR 2007, 106; cf. the security horos IG II2 2767, which mentions Dionysos as beneficiary, possibly of the leasing of a theatre in Hagnous). W. argues that a fragmentary decree from Thorikos (SEG XXXIV 107; cf. EBGR 2007, 146) established a kind of auction of the right to serve as choregos, that is, turning the appointment of the choregos to a contest in benefaction (cf. IG I3 254 lines 1–5); these choregoi funded all the dramatic productions of a single festival and not a single chorus (cf. IG I3 258 bis and SEG XXXIV 174). In an appendix, W. discusses two decrees of Acharnai (SEG XLIII 26 A and B, 315/4 BCE) as evidence for the interventions of the city of Athens in the local Dionysia during the regime of Demetrios of Phaleron. The city appointed an epimeletes of the Dionysia and the local treasurer also handled funds provided by both deme and city; the surplus of this joint budget was kept by the deme.

310 134) P. WILSON, “Dionysos in Hagnous”, ZPE 177 (2011), p. 79–89: The fragmentary decree of the demos Hagnous in Athens (IG II2 1183, ca. 325–300) includes inter alia provisions to permit deme priests to offer loans on the security of real estate (lines 27–32; on p. 84f., discussion of possible restorations). The name of the god whose money had been offered was to be inscribed on the security marker-stone placed in the mortgaged property. If the priest failed to place the marker-stone, he would be personally

Kernos, 27 | 2014 334

responsible for any money lost and his property would be mortgaged. W. identifies in the inscription IG II2 2767 (ὅρος χωρίου ἀποτίμημα ἐπὶ συνθήκαις Διονύσωι, 750 drachmas) such a marker-stone from Hagnous for a loan given under the conditions of the deme decree. The cult of Dionysos was prominent in this deme (cf. IG II2 1183 on the local Dionysia). In an Appendix (p. 85–87), W. discusses the provisions for the distribution of sacrificial meat after the sacrifice at the festival Plerosia: τοῖς π[αροῦσιν κ]αὶ συναγοράζουσιν καὶ συνενεχυράζουσιν. He argues that the συναγοράζοντες were large-scale purchasers of produce welcomed to the festival to which a market-fair was attached. The συνενεχυράζοντες may be those involved in transactions as warrants. 311 135) M. WÖRRLE, “Neue Inschriftenfunde aus Aizanoi VI: Aizanoi und Rom II”, Chiron 41 (2011), p. 357–376 [BE 2012, 406]: Improved edition of a fragmentary letter of the proconsul C. Norbannus Flaccus to Aizanoi (MAMA IX 13). The proconsul reports that the envoys of Aizanoi had given him a letter of an emperor (probably Augustus), who allowed them to hold an assembly in order to discuss the grant of tax exemption to the priest of an undetermined cult; this would compensate him for the burden of performing sacrifices (συνκεχωρηκέναι ὑμῖν ἐκκλησίαν συνάγειν Ὀφίλι[ο]ν Ὀρνᾶτον ἐπίτροπον [π]ερὶ [ἀ]τε[λ]είας τῶι [ἱε]ρεῖ θυσιῶν ἕνεκα). 312 136) M. WÖRRLE, “Epigraphische Forschungen zur Geschichte Lykiens X: Limyra in seleukidischer Hand”, Chiron 41 (2011), p. 377–415 [BE 2012, 397]: Ed. pr. of an important document from Limyra, a letter of an official in the service of Antiochos III responding to an embassy of the city (ca. 197–189). Although the letter deals with problems arising from the presence of Seleucid troops, it contains an important piece of information regarding religion. It mentions a gate that leads to the Thesmophorion (line 11: [τὴν δὲ πύλην τὴν ἐπὶ τὸ Θ]εσμοφόριον φέρουσαν εἰρήκαμεν ὅπως ἀνοίγηται [- -]; cf. line 13). This is the only attestation of a Thesmophorion in Lykia and it suggest that the cult of Demeter Thesmophoros must have been imported relatively early in the Hellenistic period. The text refers to the Thesmophorion only in connection with a gate that the Seleucid troops kept closed. Following the general pattern, the Thesmophorion was located outside the city-wall. In an appendix, W. publishes a fragmentary dedicatation made by a priest to Demeter Thesmophoros; the text refers to ἡμίθεοι.

AUTHOR

ANGELOS CHANIOTIS School of Historical Studies Institute for Advanced Study Einstein Drive Princeton, NJ 08540 [email protected]

Kernos, 27 | 2014 335

Chronique archéologique de la religion grecque (ChronARG)

Joannis Mylonopoulos, Despina Chatzivasiliou, Alain Duplouy, Michael Fowler, François Quantin, Emmanuel Voutiras, Kalliopi Chatzinikolaou, Massimo Osanna, Ilaria Battiloro et Alexis D’Hautcourt

01. Athènes, Attique, Mégaride (Joannis Mylonopoulos)

1 01.00 – Généralités – Une vue d’ensemble mise à jour des cultes impériaux de Trajan (Athènes), d’Hadrien (Athènes, Éleusis), d’Antonin le Pieux (Athènes) et de Marc Aurèle (Athènes) qui incorpore des informations épigraphiques ainsi que des témoignages archéologiques tels que statues, autels et bâtiments. L’étude traite également des fêtes et des prêtres associés au culte de l’empereur. F. CAMIA, Theoi Sebastoi. Il culto degli imperatori romani in Grecia (provincia Achaia) nel secondo secolo D.C., Athènes, 2011.

Athènes

2 01.01 – Généralités –Le navire panathénaïque est identifié, au vu de l’iconographie de la frise calendaire sur l’église dite « la petite métropole », comme étant une galère archaïque. De plus, il est suggéré que le fameux modèle en bronze d’un navire provenant de l’Érechthéion est une représentation du navire panathénaïque. Le modèle en marbre d’un navire provenant du Céramique et un navire qui figure sur un relief de l’Éleusinion de la cité peuvent être associés au navire panathénaïque, mais les témoignages iconographiques sont plus problématiques. S. WACHSMANN, « Panathenaic Ships. The Iconographic Evidence », Hesperia 81 (2012), p. 237–266.

3 – Trois sculptures fragmentaires datant de la période romaine impériale ont été mises au jour pendant la construction de la station de métro Acropole et du Musée de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 336

l’Acropole. Elles comprennent un torse d’Artémis, une tête d’Hygie et une tête d’Athéna. Les statues ont été trouvées dans une utilisation secondaire et pourraient avoir appartenu à l’origine à l’inventaire des petits sanctuaires voisins. C. VLASSOPOULOU, « Τρία ιδεαλιστικά γλυπτά από το οικόπεδο Μακρυγιάννη στο Μουσείο Ακρόπολης », in A. DELIVORRIAS et al. (éd.), Έπαινος Luigi Beschi, Athènes, 2011, p. 25–35. 4 – Un relief votif dans le Musée de l’Acropole (no 126) a été découvert dans un dépôt datant de l’époque chrétienne précoce. Il pourrait provenir de l’Asclépiéion voisin. Il montre Asclépios dans une structure dotée de colonnes ioniques ressemblant à un temple. Selon une analyse stylistique, le relief peut être daté d’environ 320 av. J.-C. L’étude suggère que la figure d’Asclépios reflète la statue de culte de l’Asclépiéion. Ι. TRIANTI, « Aνάγλυφο Ασκληπιού από το οικόπεδο Μακρυγιάννη », ibid., p. 381–396. 5 – Des témoignages archéologiques semblent suggérer qu’Harmodios et Aristogiton étaient principalement honorés pendant les Panathénées plutôt que les Épitaphia. J.L. SHEAR, « The Tyrannicides, their Cult and the Panathenaia: A Note », JHS 132 (2012), p. 107–119.

6 – Musée Kanellopoulos – Première publication de plusieurs figurines avec de l’imagerie divine et de reliefs votifs : un petit fragment d’un relief votif (dernière moitié du IVe s. av. J.-C.) dépeignant Déméter assise sur une ciste mystique ; deux petites figurines en marbre représentant Artémis qui peuvent être datées respectivement de l’ère romaine impériale précoce et de la fin du IVe s. ; un fragment d’un petit cerf qui aurait pu être associé à une figurine d’Artémis (du Ier/IIe s. ap. J.-C.) ; des fragments appartenant à neuf différentes statuettes d’Aphrodite qui peuvent être datés entre le Ier s. av. J.-C. et le IIe s. ap. J.-C. ; une petite tête hellénistique tardive appartenant à une statuette qui dépeint soit Aphrodite soit Artémis ; une petite tête d’Athéna datant de l’époque hellénistique tardive ; deux reliefs votifs montrant ce qu’on appelle des banquets funéraires (de la fin du IVe s. av. J.-C.) ; un petit pilier hermaïque du type d’Hermès Propylaios (du Ier/IIe s. ap. J.-C.). A. ZARKADAS, « Άγνωστα γλυπτά από το Μουσείο Παύλου και Αλεξάνδρας Κανελλοπούλου », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος B : Αττική. Α´ και Γ´ Εφορείες Προϊστορικών και Κλασικών Αρχαιοτήτων, Athènes, 2013, p. 247–278. 7 – IIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Trois reliefs votifs dépeignant ce qu’on appelle un banquet funéraire ont été publiés pour la première fois. Les reliefs nos Λ 9097 (du IVe/IIIe s. av. J.-C.) et Λ 6909 (du IIIe s. ap. J.-C.) ont été trouvés dans une utilisation secondaire, tandis que l’origine du relief Μ 34 (du IIe s. ap. J.-C.) est inconnue. Le quatrième relief votif (no Λ 8055 ; datant des dernières décennies du IVe s. av. J.-C.) montre un groupe de fidèles (probablement une famille, puisque l’un des personnages est manifestement un enfant) s’approchant depuis la gauche d’une divinité ou d’un groupe de divinités qui n’est pas préservé. S. ASIMAKOPOULOU-LINTZERI, « Αντιλήψεις για τη ζωή και το θάνατο μέσα από τις μαρτυρίες των αναθηματικών και επιτύμβιων αναγλύφων: Νέα ευρήματα από την περιοχή των Αθηνών », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α: Αττική. ΚΣΤ´ και Β´ Εφορείες Προϊστορικών και Κλασικών Αρχαιοτήτων , Athènes, 2013, p. 341–348.

8 01.02 – Acropole –L’étude d’un fragment de la partie inférieure d’une patte d’un taureau et son attribution au taureau situé au centre du groupe de fronton, qui est

Kernos, 27 | 2014 337

associé habituellement à la façade O de l’ancien temple, mènent à une nouvelle reconstitution de la posture du taureau et de la composition du fronton. G.I. DESPINIS, « Ein neues Fragment von der Löwen- und Stier-Marmorgiebelgruppe des alten Athena-Tempels auf der Akropolis », in G. KOKKOROU-ALEVRAS, W.D. NIEMEIER (éd.), Neue Funde archaischer Plastik aus griechischen Heiligtümern und Nekropolen, Athenaia 3, Athènes, 2012, p. 73–81.

9 – La base en forme de pilier d’une statue de portrait perdue qui fut fabriquée par Nikomachos en honneur du diakonos Syéris (IG II2 3464) doit dater du milieu du IVe s. av. J.-C. La base fut modifiée au IIe s. av. J.-C., avec l’ajout d’une nouvelle étiquette de nom plus grande au monument. C.M. KEESLING, « Syeris, diakonos of the priestess Lysimache on the Athenian Acropolis », Hesperia 81 (2012), p. 467–505.

10 – Un examen détaillé des figurines votives archaïques faites main qui furent mises au jour lors des fouilles grecques sur l’Acropole ainsi que des anciennes notes de fouilles révèlent que la plupart des objets proviennent soit d’un dépôt au NE des Propylées (116 objets) soit du temenos d’Athéna Nikè (210 objets trouvés à l’intérieur de la base de la statue de culte et dans la zone de l’autel orthogonal). V.D. GEORGAKA, « Αττικά χειροποίητα ειδώλια αρχαϊκών χρόνων από την Ακρόπολη των Αθηνών. Η θέση ευρέσεώς τους », ΑΕphem (2013), p. 29–41. 11 – Un bref aperçu du développement architectural et cultuel du sanctuaire d’Athéna Nikè. E. LEMPIDAKI, « Η λατρεία της Αθηνάς Νίκης στην Ακρόπολη των Αθηνών. Από την Αθηνά την Νίκη στη Νίκη Άπτερο » inE.P. SIOUMPARA, K. PSAROUDAKIS (éd.), Θεμέλιον. 24 μελέτες για τον Δάσκαλο Πέτρο Θέμελη από τους μαθητές και τους συνεργάτες του, Athènes, 2013, p. 367–393.

12 – Pente Sud – Ire Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2010, le monument chorégique de Nikias a été exploré. Le plan du monument a été confirmé et une petite partie du système de tuyaux fait de pièces en terre cuite en forme d’un Π inversé a été dégagée. Les restes paraissent être postérieurs au système de conduites d’eau archaïque tardive d’Athènes. E. KASAPOGLOU, « Νεότερα ανασκαφικά δεδομένα από δύο μνημεία της Νότιας Κλιτύος της Ακρόπολης: Χαλκουργεία και χορηγικό μνημείο του Νικία », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 50–54. 13 01.03 – Agora – Stoa de Zeus Eleuthérios – Ire Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Lors de fouilles de sauvetage, des tronçons des murs de fondation O et N du bâtiment ont été mis au jour. Au niveau de la fondation, le bâtiment devait faire 45,50 m de long. De plus, les vestiges de structures antérieures (les bâtiments N et S connus des fouilles dans l’Agora menées par l’École américaine d’études classiques à Athènes) ont été dégagés dans la proximité immédiate de la stoa. Ils peuvent être probablement associés au thesmothetéion archaïque tardif/classique précoce. K. TSOGKA, « Νέα στοιχεία από τη σωστική ανασκαφική έρευνα της Α´ Εφορείας στην Αρχαία Αγορά της Αθήνας: Το δυτικό τμήμα », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 114–123.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 338

14 – Autel des Douze Dieux – Ire Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Des fouilles de sauvetage ont révélé l’angle SE du péribole de l’autel, des tronçons du péribole E et O et une grande partie de la zone dallée. Dans le secteur NO du péribole, où le dallagefut détruit, trois fragments de l’autel archaïque ont été découverts, dont l’un relie un morceau (no A1199) qui fut trouvé par l’École américaine d’études classiques à Athènes en 1934. N. SARAGA, « Νέα στοιχεία από τη σωστική ανασκαφική έρευνα της Α´ Εφορείας στην Αρχαία Αγορά της Αθήνας », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 137–144.

15 – Vingt sculptures fragmentaires en marbre sont associées aux images hellénistiques d’Aphrodite et fonctionnaient dans un contexte domestique ou comme dédicaces. L’identification par E. Harrison d’un spécimen plus grand que nature (au Musée de l’Agora, no S 378 [2]) datant du premier quart du IIe s. av. J.-C. à la statue de culte d’Aphrodite Hègemonè tou dèmou peut être confirmée. L’année 180/79 av. J.-C. est proposée comme la date de création de l’image. A. STEWART, « Hellenistic Free-standing Sculpture from the Athenian Agora, Part 1: Aphrodite », Hesperia 81 (2012), p. 267–342.

16 – Deux têtes fragmentaires, un morceau de draperie et une pièce de la partie droite supérieure d’un torse avec le bras droit tenu ont été associés à un groupe cultuel hellénistique plus grand que nature (du milieu du IIe s. av. J.-C.) qui représentait Déméter et Korè. Les fragments sont attribués à la famille de Polykles provenant de Thorikos. A. STEWART, « Hellenistic Free-standing Sculpture from the Athenian Agora, Part 2: Demeter, Kore, and the Polykles Family », Hesperia 81 (2012), p. 655–689.

17 – Seize fragments de statuettes en poros et de petits reliefs peuvent être facilement identifiés comme étant des pièces d’essai, des maquettes ou d’autres exercices de sculpteurs ; ils datent d’entre le IVe s. av. J.-C. et le IIe s. ap. J.-C. Parmi eux, un relief archaïsant d’Hermès Kriophore (no 4), une statuette peut-être d’un satyre (no 5), une statuette de Dionysos s’appuyant contre un trépied (no 7), une statuette d’Aphrodite s’appuyant contre un pilier (no 10), le visage d’un jeune satyre taillé en relief (no 12), un relief comportant deux hommes levant une statue (no 14) et un disque décoré avec un relief d’une divinité féminine assise et Poséidon (no 15). A. STEWART, « Sculptors’ Sketches, Trial Pieces, Figure Studies, and Models in Poros Limestone from the Athenian Agora », Hesperia 82 (2013), p. 615–650.

18 – Le type statuaire d’Athéna Ince est identifié comme faisant partie d’un groupe cultuel, peut-être le groupe d’Athéna et d’Héphaïstos de l’Héphaïstion. A. DELIVORRIAS, « Ο αγαλματικός τύπος της Αθηνάς Ince και τα ερμηνευτικά του αδιέξοδα », in A. DELIVORRIAS et al. (éd.), supra, 01.01, p. 69–86. 19 – Bien qu’elle soit essentiellement de nature épigraphique, l’étude de monuments dédicatoires de l’Agora athénienne présente des relations inestimables entre des inscriptions et les formes des objets sur lesquels ces textes furent inscrits : bases (de statue), autels, piliers, stèles, tablettes, plaques, cuvettes et tables cultuelles. Les matériaux sont organisés par ordre alphabétique selon la divinité à qui l’objet fut dédié. D.J. GEAGAN, Inscriptions: The dedicatory monuments, Princeton, 2011 (The Athenian Agora, XVIII).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 339

20 – Septante dépôts dits « saucer pyres » mis au jour dans les zones résidentielles et industrielles bordant l’Agora athénienne sont interprétés comme les restes de rituels accomplis dans le lieu de travail pour protéger les artisants et leurs enterprises. Quand ils furent trouvés pour la première fois dans les années 1930, on les interpréta comme des incinérations de nourrissons. Une analyse zooarchéologique récente des ossements a cependant révélé que les restes appartenaient à des moutons et à des chèvres, et que les dépôts furent sacrificiels plutôt que funéraires. Chaque pyre se compose d’une fosse peu profonde (dont le fond est parfois marqué par de la forte combustion), avec un dépôt votif de poteries et de fragments d’os brûlés, de cendres et de charbon. La plupart des vases sont en miniature, quoiqu’il y ait quelques exemples plus grands. S.I. ROTROFF, Industrial Religion. The Saucer Pyres of the Athenian Agora, Princeton, 2013 (Hesperia, suppl.47).

21 – Selon une nouvelle analyse du décret de 421/20 av. J.-C. qui réglementait les Héphaïstia (IG I 3 82), la liste de dépenses liées au travail à l’intérieur du temple d’Héphaïstos datant de la même époque (IG I 3 472) et les marques de maçons sur le plafond à caissons, il est suggéré que le temple fut achevé à l’origine vers 460 av. J.-C. Dans le dernier quart du Ve s., le chantier n’a subi que des travaux de restauration.

G. VALLARINO, « Le epigrafi dello Hephaisteion e il culto di Efesto ad Atene », in G. BEVILACQUA, S. CAMPANELLI (éd.), Ἀρετῆς ἕνεκεν καί σοφίας. Un omaggio a Paola Lombardi, Rome, 2012, p. 61–74.

22 – Ire Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – De nouvelles fouilles aux alentours de la stoa de Zeus Eleuthèrios suggèrent que la fameuse base par Bryaxis (Musée national no 1733), qui porte une dédicace privée par Démaïnetos et ses fils Démeas et Démosthène du dème de Païania, doit avoir été à l’origine située à côté de l’angle NO de la stoa. K. TSOGKA, « Νέα στοιχεία από τη σωστική ανασκαφική έρευνα της Α´ Εφορείας στην Αρχαία Αγορά της Αθήνας: Το δυτικό τμήμα », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 124–126. 23 01.04 – Ano Petralona – N os 75–77 de la rue Troon – IIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2011, un bothros de 4,5 m de profondeur a été creusé. Il a livré des vases fragmentaires et intacts sous forme de canthares, de phiales, d’œnochoés, de ce qu’on appelle des kernoi et de cratères, ainsi que des lampes, des figurines en terre cuites, une statuette féminine, un miroir en bronze et une boucle d’oreille en bronze. L’une des plus remarquables trouvailles est un canthare inscrit sur son bord avec l’inscription ΑΡΙΣΤ(ΕΙ ΚΑ)ΛΛΙΣΤΕΙ. Le dépôt est vraisemblablement associé à un petit sanctuaire voisin. M. KONTOPANAGOU, A. STAMOUDI, « Ο αρχαιολογικός χαρακτήρας των Άνω Πετραλώνων κατά τους Κλασικούς και Πρώιμους Ελληνιστικούς χρόνους », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 316 f. 24 01.05 – Céramique – Sanctuaire d’Aristè-Kallistè – n o 22 de la rue Salaminos et Granikou – IIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Un péribole hellénistique a été associé au sanctuaire d’Aristè-Kallistè, où des prêtres et des prêtresses furent enterrés. Toutes les tombes étaient des fosses couvertes de tuiles, sauf une qui était une tombe à ciste.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 340

E.S. BANOU, « Οι ανασκαφές της Γ´ ΕΠΚΑ κατά την τελευταία πενταετία », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 288. 25 – no 10 de la rue Makri – IIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Le terrain a livré des traces d’occupation domestique à partir de la période géometrique. Les trouvailles romaines révèlent cependant que, à cette époque, le site avait acquis un caractère religieux : des figurines en terre cuite, une statuette d’Aphrodite, des vases miniatures et la figure de Cybèle à l’intérieur d’un naïskos. Ibid., p. 293.

26 01.06 – Colline des Nymphes – Ire Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2000, des fouilles du petit sanctuaire des Nymphes — déjà connu grâce à une inscription du Ve s. inscrite sur la roche naturelle — ont été entreprises. On pouvait probablement accéder au sanctuaire par le versant O de la colline. Le sanctuaire n’avait pas de mur de péribole. Un dépôt a été découvert au SO de l’inscription ; il contenait à peu près 800 petites figurines à visage d’oiseau faites main. Des fragments appartenant à 600 autres figurines similaires ont été ramassés dans le voisinage immédiat du dépôt. Les trouvailles peuvent être datées du VIe s. av. J.-C. Trois tailles dans la roche au N de l’inscription ont été découvertes ; dans l’antiquité elles soutenaient vraisemblablement une forme de stèle. Une dépression juste devant aurait pu contenir un petit autel. L’une des dépressions naturelles dans cette zone du sanctuaire a livré un autre dépôt, qui contenait 350 fragments de figurines en terre cuite (appartenant probablement à 150 spécimens différents), des fragments de pinakes en terre cuite, des tuiles, de la céramique (des fragments de skyphoi, de kylikes, d’œnochoés, de petits lécythes, d’assiettes, de lekanides, d’amphores et de pots à cuisiner) et des ossements d’animaux. La plupart des trouvailles remontent au VIe s. av. J.-C. À une distance approximative de 1,5 m du SO du deuxième dépôt, une inscription fragmentaire est gravée sur la roche (KONEIΔON), qui pourrait associer le sanctuaire au genos attique des Konéidai. M. DOUROU, « Το ιερό των Νυμφών στον ομώνυμο λόφο. Στοιχεία από τις νεότερες έρευνες », inM. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 213–229.

27 01.07 – Environs de la rivière Ilissos –On doit se ranger à la datation plus récente de la construction du petit temple (environ 430–420 av. J.-C.). Le temple ne peut pas être identifié au Métrôon d’Agrai ou au temple de Déméter, où se déroulaient les Petits Mystères éleusiniens. I. LEVENTI, « Ο ιωνικός ναός στον Ιλισό και η ζωφόρος του εννέα χρόνια μετά », in A. DELIVORRIAS et al. (éd.), supra, 01.01, p. 213–222.

28 – Le Pythion à côte de l’Ilissos doit être plus concrètement localisé dans la zone au S de la roche naturelle au SO de l’Olympiéion (où les fondations du bâtiment du VIe s. ont été dégagées). Au XIXe s., trois maisons qui appartenaient à D. Agapiou, à C. Karditsis, et à P. Demetriou et qui n’existent plus marquaient les frontières S du sanctuaire. A.P. MATTHAIOU, « Το Πύθιον παρά τον Ιλισσόν », in A. DELIVORRIAS et al. (éd.), supra, 01.01, p. 259–271.

29 01.08 – Plaka–En 2004, un fragment inscrit (no Π 1666) d’un monument chorégique datant du milieu du IVe s. a été trouvé au no 20 de la rue Tripodon. Il appartenait au niveau supérieur d’une base à trois gradins, qui soutenait un trépied. Le monument fut

Kernos, 27 | 2014 341

érigé pour fêter la victoire de Déinippos, fils de Sostrate, dans le chœur d’enfants aux Grandes Dionysies. E.P. SIOUMPARA, « Νέο χορηγικό μνημείο από την οδό Τριπόδων στην Αθήνα », in E.P. SIOUMPARA, K. PSAROUDAKIS (éd.), supra, 01.02, p. 261–279.

30 01.09 – Portes itoniennes – Sanctuaire d’Apollon Pythios – no 3 de la rue Iossif Rogon – IIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Un morceau inscrit de l’autel archaïque dédié à Apollon par Pisistrate le Jeune a été trouvé dans une utilisation secondaire dans une structure bâtie probablement dans la dernière moitié du IVe s. av. J.-C. Le fragment a été transféré au Musée épigraphique.

E.S. BANOU, « Οι ανασκαφές της Γ´ ΕΠΚΑ κατά την τελευταία πενταετία », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 293.

Attique

31 01.10 – Acharnai – IIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2007, le théâtre antique a été découvert et dégagé en partie, à savoir une kerkide entière et des parties d’autres ainsi qu’une partie d’orchestre. I. TSIRIGOTOU-DRAKOTOU, « Ειδήσεις για την Αττική από τις πρόσφατες ανασκαφικές έρευνες », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 135.

32 – Un petit sanctuaire rectangulaire a été mis au jour dans la rue Acharnikè ; les archéologues l’ont associé au culte de Déméter. Les abondantes trouvailles incluent des figurines en terre cuite, des lécythes à décor en relief, de la céramique en miniature et bon nombre de vases dits kernoi. M. PLATONOS-GIOTA, « Οι αρχαιότητες του δήμου των αρχαίων Αχαρνών και η αποκάλυψη του θεάτρου », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 141.

33 – Le temple d’Athéna Hippia se trouve probablement juste au-dessous de l’église moderne de la Panagia, à laquelle des grands tambours de colonnes furent incorporés. Une inscription déjà connue depuis les années 1990 se réfère au sanctuaire ; elle a été trouvée réutilisée dans un balaneum romain situé derrière la petite église byzantine de St. Ioannis. Une deuxième inscription — toujours inédite —, qui mentionne une dédicace à Athéna Hippia par un certain Pompéius, a également été trouvée réutilisée dans le même balaneum. Ibid., p. 147 f.

34 – Lors des fouilles de sauvetage dans un terrain à l’E du théâtre antique et à l’O de la place centrale de la cité moderne d’Acharnai, un mur plutôt fort a été révélé ; il aurait pu faire partie des fondations d’un temple (de Dionysos ?). Ibid., p. 148 f.

35 01.11 – Halai Araphenidès (Loutsa) – IIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Le sanctuaire de Dionysos, où les Dionysies rurales se déroulaient le plus vraisemblablement, pourrait avoir été localisé à une distance de 500 m à l’O du sanctuaire d’Artémis Tauropole, quelque part près de la rue A. Papandreou (autrefois dite Zachou).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 342

V. SKARAKI, M. STATHI, « Ανασκαφικές έρευνες στην Αρτέμιδα Αττικής », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 242. 36 – Pour la première fois, les témoignages matériels fournis par des fouilles grecques menées à la fin des années 1950 dans le sanctuaire d’Artémis Tauropole à Halai Araphenidès sont présentés dans une monographie. L’étude, composée de deux volumes, se concentre principalement sur les vestiges architecturaux (y compris des tuiles) et la céramique. Comptant trop fortement et peut-être de façon trop peu critique sur les sources littéraires, et en combinaison avec les témoignages archéologiques, l’A. reconstitue la vie rituelle du sanctuaire avec un accent particulier sur des rites de passage. K. KALOGEROPOULOS, Το ιερό της Αρτέμιδος Ταυροπόλου στις Αλές Αραφηνίδες (Λούτσα), Athènes, 2013.

37 01.12 – Ikarion (Dionysos) –Une vue d’ensemble du sanctuaire de Dionysos et du Pythion dans le dème antique d’Ikarion. V. GEORGIADIS (éd.), Ο αρχαίος δήμος Ικαρίας (Ικάριον) και το ιερό του στο σημερινό δήμο Διονύσου Αττικής, Athènes, 2013. 38 01.13 – Kathyperthen Pergasé (Kato Kephissia) – IIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Au cours de travaux d’extension de l’avenue Kyme, deux petits sanctuaires ont été repérés. L’un a été associé au culte de Dionysos, au vu d’une inscription faisant allusion à un certain Dionysios, qui avait financé la création d’un bosquet dans le sanctuaire. D’autres trouvailles comprennent les cornes de taureau en terre cuite et le pied ainsi que deux doigts appartenant à une statue (de culte ?) plus grande que nature. Le deuxième sanctuaire a fourni des figurines en terre cuite de divinités assises, des figurines de colombe, le torse d’une petite figure féminine en marbre et le bras d’une statue féminine en marbre. Le sanctuaire a été associé au culte d’Aphrodite. M. PLATONOS-GIOTA, « Οι αρχαιότητες του δήμου των αρχαίων Αχαρνών και η αποκάλυψη του θεάτρου », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 145 f.

39 01.14 – Keratsini –Plusieurs figurines en terre cuite dépeignant des femmes debout et assises, des fragments de « poupées », une fille assise, deux figures d’Hermès (dont l’une tient le kerykéion), un gardien de troupeau, au moins trois figurines de silène, un criophore et des figurines d’animaux, tels que cochons et oiseaux, ont été découverts dans une grotte consacrée aux Nymphes dans la région de Schisto. Les figurines coroplathiques sont de production athénienne locale et la plupart d’entre elles datent de la période classique. En plus des terres cuites, des tessons de vases en verre, beaucoup d’anneaux en fer, un anneau en or, des perles à œil et un pendentif en forme de masque ont été mis au jour. Enfin, trente-huit fusaïoles et de nombreux fragments de vases (des loutrophores, des lebètes gamikoi, des épinetra, des pyxides, des lekanides et de diverses formes de vases en miniature) complètent les objets provenant de la grotte. Il est interéssant de mentionner que des krateriskoi figurent aussi parmi les formes de céramique trouvées ; cette forme est souvent associé aux cultes d’Artémis, mais on la rencontre aussi dans les grottes de Pan à Éleusis et des Nymphes à Vari. M.G. SPATHI, « The Cave of the Nymphs at Keratsini, Attica: A New Location for the Popular Female Cult of the Classical Period and Some Intriguing Finds », in E.P. SIOUMPARA, K. PSAROUDAKIS (éd.), supra, 01.02, p. 395–415.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 343

40 01.15 – Marathon – Vranas, environs d’Arnós – IIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Les restes d’un grand édifice public du Ve s. av. J.-C. ont été dégagés. Si cette structure est un temple, elle pourrait être identifiée comme un des trois temples mentionnés dans les sources littéraires ; ces temples ont été dédiés respectivement à Héraklès, à Dionysos, et à Athéna. I. TSIRIGOTOU-DRAKOTOU, « Ειδήσεις για την Αττική από τις πρόσφατες ανασκαφικές έρευνες », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 127.

41 01.16 – Mont Hymette – Profitis Ilias–Fondée sur une analyse architecturale des vestiges subsistants et sur la topographie du site, une nouvelle reconstruction du sanctuaire d’Apollon Proopsios est proposée. Le sanctuaire comprenait probablement un temple tétrastyle prostyle, un autel rectangulaire, une stoa à une nef située derrière l’autel et, peut-être, une porte au SO du temple. N. PAPAGIANNAKOS, « Νεότερη θεώρηση του ιερού του Απόλλωνος Προοψίου στον Προφήτη Ηλία Υμηττού », in Πρακτικά ΙΔ´ Επιστημονική Συνάντησης ΝΑ Αττικής , Kalyvia, 2013, p. 513–520.

42 01.17 – Néo Phaléro–Xenokratéia fonda probablement le sanctuaire de Képhisos peu après l’invasion de l’Attique par des Spartiates en 413 av. J.-C., pendant laquelle elle et son fils, Xéniadès, ont été forcés de quitter leur dème de Cholléidai et de déménager vers la cité. E. VOUTIRAS, « Φροντίσματα: Το ανάγλυφο της Ξενοκράτειας και το ιερό του Κηφισκού στο Νέο Φάληρο », in A. DELIVORRIAS et al. (éd.), supra, 01.01, p. 49–58. 43 01.18 – Pirée – no 7 de l’avenue Peiraios – XXVIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Des restes d’un petit sanctuaire ont été trouvés. Deux phases datant de la fin du VIe s. et du début du Ve s. ont été discernées.

E. LIGOURI-TOLIA, « Ο αρχαίος Πειραιάς και το μουσείο του », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 22. 44 – Kastélla – Une grotte entre les ports de Mounychie et de Zéa dédiée au héros Séragga et connue dans les sources littéraires comme le Séraggéion fut déjà repérée et mise au jour à la fin du XIXe s. Une baignoire circulaire occupait le centre de la grotte ; une mosaïque découverte dans la grotte est maintenant considérée comme perdue. Ibid., p. 26.

45 – no 161 de l’avenue Peiraios – XXVIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Des vestiges d’un grand bâtiment ne sont préservés qu’au niveau de la fondation. L’édifice se compose d’une cour dotée de chambres et de portiques le long de ses côtés N, S et O. Au vu de l’anse d’un canthare portant un graffito qui identifie le vase comme étant une offrande à Dionysos (s’il s’agit d’un datif) ou comme étant la propriété de ce dieu (s’il s’agit d’un génitif), les archéologues associent la structure — malgré sa forme peu commune — à un culte de Dionysos. G. SYROPOULOS, « Ανασκάπτοντας στην Οδό Πειραιώς », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 63. 46 01.19 – Rhamnonte –La tête archaïque en argile d’une figure féminine trouvée vers 1980 dans le remplissage d’une citerne dans le sanctuaire de Némésis a été identifiée comme faisant partie d’un sphinx, et probablement un acrotère du petit temple. Grâce

Kernos, 27 | 2014 344

à une nouvelle reconstruction qui prend en compte d’autres fragments en argile provenant du remplissage, la tête est interprétée comme appartenant à une figurine à caractère religieux (une offrande votive ou une image de culte), faite au tour de pottier et mesurant 70 cm de haut. A. MOUSTAKA, « Σπαράγματα πήλινου αρχαϊκού αγαλματίου από τον Ραμνούντα », in A. DELIVORRIAS et al. (éd.), supra, 01.01, p. 273–282.

47 – L’inscription gravée sur l’architrave du temple classique de Némésis dans le premier siècle ap. J.-C. témoigne de la dédicace du monument à Livie déifiée. Il demeure incertain si la redédicace du temple fut une initiative impériale ou locale, mais la conception de Livie comme étant une vengeresse correspondrait mieux au début du règne de Claudius. En comparaison avec d’autres exemples où le culte d’un membre de la famille impériale fut introduit dans un temple préexistant en tant que synnaos ou synthronos, à Rhamnonte, Livie fut probablement entièrement assimilée à Némésis. E.J. STAFFORD, « The People to the Goddess Livia: Attic Nemesis and the Roman Imperial Cult », Kernos 26 (2013), p. 205–238.

48 01.20 – Salamine – Université d’Ioannina – La grotte d’Euripide au-dessus de la baie Péristéria fait 47 m de longeur et a subi au moins six différentes périodes d’utilisation, s’étendant du Néolithique à l’ère romaine impériale. Elle fut convertie en lieu de culte du poète dramatique Euripide à la période hellénistique et devint une attraction majeure à l’époque romaine.

49 – Un petit sanctuaire hellénistique dédié à Dionysos a été repéré près de la grotte d’Euripide et mis au jour. Il comprend un naïskos, une aire dotée de bancs bâtis et une cuvette alimentée en eau par une fontaine voisine. G.G. LOLOS, « Νεώτερα πορίσματα από την εξέλιξη της πανεπιστημιακής ανασκαφής Σαλαμίνος », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 81 f.

50 – Pyrgiakioni – Au Ve s. av. J.-C., un temenos fut bâti directement adjacent à un tumulus/cénotaphe mycénien. L’archéologue suggère que le tumulus et le temenos classique, qui fut construit avec une fontaine, constituaient un seul complexe dédié au culte d’un héros homérique important (Ajax ?). Un secteur central du temenos est occupé par une grande exèdre formée de calcaire naturel (mesurant approx. 36 × 20 m) ; elle divise le sanctuaire en deux parties : supérieure (N) et inférieure (S). La partie supérieure est définie par un mur péribole en forme de Γ entourant une structure en forme de Π qui s’ouvre vers le S. Les deux parties du temenos communiquent entre elles au moyen d’un escalier ouvert. Dans la partie inférieure, une structure rectangulaire à deux pièces de tailles inégales a été dégagée à côté de l’exèdre de calcaire. La pièce plus petite était pourvue de murs couverts de plâtre. Le complexe semble avoir été détruit et abandonné dans la première moitié du IIIe s. av. J.-C. Ibid., p. 87–89.

51 01.21 – Voula – les rues Marnis et Kerkyras – XXVIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Une petite basilique à une nef fut érigée au Ve ou VIe s. ap. J.-C. sur les vestiges d’un édifice rectangulaire plus ancien [un petite temple/sanctuaire ?] qui remonte au Ve/IVe s. av. J.-C.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 345

G. KOURAGIOS, « Ανασκαφική έρευνα τελευταίων ετών στους δήμους Βούλας – Βουλιαγμένης », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 71.

52 01.22 – Vouliagmeni – Sanctuaire d’Apollon Zostèr – XXVIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Une cuvette plutôt grande (12,5 × 3 × 3 m), qui appartenait au sanctuaire et se trouvait approximativement 20 m au N du temple, a été nettoyée et étudiée. Elle avait été de nouveau enterrée suite à son déterrage en 1960. Ibid., p. 77.

Mégaride

53 01.23 – Mégare – IIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Des fouilles de sauvetage ont mis au jour des parties de chambres souterraines dites « grottes mégariennes », qui furent taillées dans la roche ; elles étaient dotées d’un pilier monolithique pour soutenir le plafond, d’escaliers de pierre et de sols soigneusement faits. Les « grottes » ont été associées aux cultes dits « chthoniens ». E.S. BANOU, « Οι ανασκαφές της Γ´ ΕΠΚΑ κατά την τελευταία πενταετία », in M. TOLI, S. OIKONOMOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογικές Συμβολές. Τόμος Α, supra, 01.01, p. 301.

02. Péloponnèse (Despina Chatzivasiliou et Alain Duplouy)

54 02.01 – Généralités – Le troisième volume de la série Archaiologia est consacré au Péloponnèse et offre, région par région, un parcours global et synthétique de l’époque néolithique à l’époque romaine, proposant une description des nombreux sites archéologiques. A. VLACHOPOULOS (éd.), Αρχαιολογία. Πελοπόννησος, Athènes, 2012.

Corinthie

55 02.02 – Direction des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques, XXXVIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques et Institut archéologique allemand – Il faut savoir gré aux organisateurs d’avoir publié en un temps relativement restreint les actes du colloque international tenu en 2009 à Loutraki, sous la forme d’un gros volume de plus de 550 pages dressant le bilan des recherches en cours sur la Corinthie. Ce sont plus de cinquante contributions, classées topographiquement en quatre sections, qui font état de la recherche archéologique, du néolithique à l’Antiquité tardive, menées par les équipes grecques et étrangères à Corinthe et en Corinthie. Nous ne retiendrons ici que les découvertes archéologiques liées aux cultes. K. KISSAS, W.-D. NIEMEIER (éd.), The Corinthia and the Northeast Peloponnese: Topography and History from Prehistoric Times until the End of Antiquity. Proceedings of the International Conference Organized by the Directorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities, the LZ’ Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities, and the German Archaeological Institute, Athens, held at Loutraki, March 26–29, 2009, Munich, 2013 (Athenaia, 4).

56 – L’A. propose une synthèse sur le culte de Zeus dans le NE du Péloponnèse, qui héberge pas moins de cinq lieux de culte consacrés à Zeus. Du VIIIe au VIe s., le sanctuaire du

Kernos, 27 | 2014 346

mont Phokas au NO paraît avoir été le plus important, attirant des fidèles des régions voisines. Au VIe s., le sanctuaire de Némée, en plaine et d’accès plus facile, gagne en fréquentation et est doté d’un temple avec autel de pierre. Zeus y est honoré en tant que « protecteur de la collectivité » et « présage de l’avenir » (sanctuaire oraculaire), tandis qu’à Phokas il avait un rôle de « purificateur ». À Tretos, le déroulement d’un culte en l’honneur de Zeus « protecteur de l’agriculture » paraît plus ancien (depuis le début de l’âge du Fer) et le fait d’un groupe plus restreint. Sur le site d’Evagelistria, les indices sont plus ténus : on y identifie en général un culte de sommet consacré à Zeus. Enfin, sur le mont Arachnaion au SE, les fouilles ont mis en évidence un autel de cendres où Zeus semble avoir été honoré depuis l’âge du Fer comme « dieu de la pluie ». D’après les trouvailles céramiques, les libations d’huile étaient fréquentes sur ces sites. Les sacrifices d’animaux suivis de banquets sont par ailleurs attestés à Phokas, Arachnaion et Némée. O. ZOLOTNIKOVA, « The Cult Places of Zeus in the Northeastern Peloponnese in the Geometric – Late Archaic Periods », ibid., p. 111–123.

57 02.03 – Perachora –École américaine d’Athènes – Un bâtiment rond situé à l’E de l’Héraion aurait servi de citerne de grandes dimensions pour le stockage de l’eau de pluie. R. TOMLINSON, « The Circular Building at Perachora », ibid., p. 175–177.

58 02.04 – Isthmia – École américaine d’Athènes et Université de Chicago – Le réexamen du matériel découvert lors des fouilles menées dans le sanctuaire de Poséidon entre 1952 et 1967 et l’étude des trouvailles effectuées depuis 1989 amènent C. Morgan à la conclusion que le site fut occupé sans solution de continuité depuis l’HR I jusqu’à l’époque romaine tardive et que des banquets s’y déroulaient. Certains bâtiments semblent avoir servi comme lieux de stockage pour les offrandes et autres objets du sanctuaire (trépieds, armes, amphores pour le vin, etc.), plutôt que comme lieu d’hébergement. Une nouvelle lecture de Pausanias (II 1–2) proposée par E. Gebhard nous éclaire en outre sur les cultes présents sur le site, ainsi que sur les rites à mystères. La poursuite de l’étude des terres cuites votives par A. Thomsen en 2012 a montré que les figurines de chevaux et de cavaliers en terre cuite, très fréquentes dans la deuxième moitié du VIIe s. (juste après la construction du premier temple vers 650) et dans la deuxième moitié du VIe s. (à l’époque où les concours isthmiques gagnent en réputation panhellénique), disparaissent complètement après 390, quand un incendie détruit le sanctuaire. Les rites liés à ce type d’offrandes ne reprennent pas à l’époque hellénistique. C. MORGAN, « The Late Bronze Age – Early Iron Age at the Isthmian Sanctuary », ibid., p. 247–250; E.R. GEBHARD, « Pausanias at the Isthmian Sanctuary », ibid., p. 263–274. Z. ARCHIBALD, AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 21. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2969.

59 – Les fouilles sur le site du Palaimonion ont mis au jour la cinquième phase du sanctuaire (env. 161/169). Le temple (tombeau de Palaimon) fut alors déplacé du côté E du temple de Poséidon vers son côté S. La construction de ce deuxième temple témoigne aussi d’un changement dans le déroulement des rites. Le Palaimonion fut entièrement détruit à la fin du Ve ou début du VIe s.

E.R. GEBHARD, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 166.

60 02.05 – Corinthe –École américaine d’Athènes – Des nouveautés sont à prendre en compte pour le sanctuaire de Déméter et Korè situé sur le versant N de l’Acrocorinthe.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 347

N. Bookidis propose en effet un réexamen des conclusions présentées dans Corinth XVIII, 3 (1997) en relation avec de nouvelles trouvailles : quatre édifices et aménagements, identifiés comme des salles de banquet, une citerne au sommet de la colline (pour approvisionner en eau les salles de banquet) et quelques sections des murs. La forte érosion naturelle du rocher et les tremblements de terre, fréquents dans la région, ont probablement fait disparaître presqu’une centaine de bâtiments, dont il nous est impossible de connaître l’étendue et qui auraient pu accueillir environ 700 personnes. À la fin du IVe s., les salles de banquet auraient ainsi occupé la plus grande partie de la pente N de l’Acrocorinthe. La richesse des offrandes sur le site témoigne du reste de l’importance du culte de Déméter et Korè dans la région. N. BOOKIDIS, « Acrocorinth: The North Slope », in The Corinthia and the Northeast Peloponnese, supra, 02.02, p. 99–110.

61 02.06 – Cléonées – Institut archéologique allemand, Université de Trèves et XXXVIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2010, les archéologues ont poursuivi l’exploration de la basilique chrétienne de l’agora, sous laquelle ils ont trouvé les vestiges d’un édifice classique ou hellénistique, peut-être un sanctuaire, mais la fouille n’a pas été poussée plus avant. « Jahresbericht 2011 », AA (2012/1) Beiheft, p. 96–98.

62 – Les études de Marchand et Mattern proposent une localisation précise du temple d’Athéna (?), ainsi qu’une identification des vestiges du sanctuaire archaïque de l’acropole. J. MARCHAND, « Investigations in the Territory of Kleonai », in The Corinthia and the Northeast Peloponnese, supra, 02.02, p. 313–322 et T. MATTERN, « Kleonai. Neue Forschungen in einer Stadt des ‘Dritten Griechenlands’ », ibid., p. 323–332.

63 02.07 – Némée–École américaine d’Athènes – En 2011 et 2012, les travaux se sont poursuivis sur l’hérôon d’Opheltès (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.05). En particulier, dans le secteur E/F/G-19, les fouilles ont apporté de nouveaux éléments chronologiques : outre divers tessons de l’âge du Bronze (HR IIIB/C) et du néolithique, renvoyant à une activité ancienne sur le site, deux phases principales ont été établies pour l’époque archaïque, dont la dernière (fin VIe-début Ve s.) constitue la phase finale d’aménagement du tumulus héroïque. Les fouilles ont ainsi montré les modifications continues du secteur tout au long de l’époque archaïque, destinées à contrôler l’écoulement des eaux et à créer un tumulus artificiel qui fut agrandi plusieurs fois. L’utilisation du secteur comme sanctuaire héroïque tout au long de l’époque archaïque est désormais clairement documentée, avec une phase intense vers le milieu du VIe s. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2406 et 2965.

64 – De manière synthétique, K.S. Shelton résume les divers indices archéologiques révélant l’existence d’un culte héroïque préalable à l’implantation du culte de Zeus à Némée, tandis que S.G. Miller détaille le premier état du temple de Zeus (distyle in antis de la première moitié du VIe s., présentant des éléments de décoration architecturale), détruit à la fin du Ve s. par un violent incendie, depuis que les fouilles de 2001 ont permis de préciser la datation des diverses phases. K.S. SHELTON, « Nemea before Zeus. Prehistory and Early History in the Area of the Sanctuary », in The Corinthia and the Northeast Peloponnese, supra, 02.02, p. 354‑349 ; S.G. MILLER, « The Early Temple of Zeus at Nemea », ibid., p. 371–378 ; S.G. MILLER, AD 56–59 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 81 et 159.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 348

65 – Dans la région de Leontios à Némée, les fouilles ont mis au jour sur le site de Plakomenos (terrain Banagi-Adrianakou) divers fragments architecturaux, ainsi qu’un dépôt votif (VIIe–Ve s.), qui doit sans doute être rapporté à Aphrodite. Un grand nombre de figurines, masculines et féminines, debout ou assises, de cavaliers, ainsi que des groupes de danseurs témoignent d’une influence importante des ateliers d’Argos et de Corinthe. Parmi les trouvailles, il faut également signaler un modèle réduit de bâtiment absidal, avec deux figures à l’intérieur (avec une tête en forme d’oiseau) et deux petits lions allongés. Un skyphos porte l’inscription : ΤΑΣ ΑΦΡΟΔΙΤΑΣ ΕΙΜΙ (« j’appartiens à Aphrodite »). Z. ASLAMATZIDOU-KOSTOUROU, D. SARRI, « Αποθέτης αρχαϊκού ιερού στο Πλακωμένο Λεοντίου », in The Corinthia and the Northeast Peloponnese, supra, 02.02, p. 397–403; Z. ASLAMATZIDOU-KOTSOUROU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 78.

66 02.08 – Titanè–École belge d’Athènes – L’École belge a poursuivi ses prospections en vue de l’identification du sanctuaire d’Asclépios, qui demeure néanmoins douteuse. Chr. TYTGAT et al., AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 174.

67 02.09 – Phénéos– Institut archéologique autrichien , XXXVIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques et Université de Graz – Un nouveau programme de recherches sur la petite cité de Phénéos vise à mieux connaître le tracé et la chronologie du mur de fortification de l’acropole et de ses tours. Dans le cadre de ces travaux, les sondages destinés à dater la construction de la muraille (dans la seconde moitié du IVe siècle) ont également livré, en remblai, un matériel renvoyant probablement à une activité cultuelle antérieure : des fragments de terres cuites féminines, des kotyles corinthiennes miniatures, de petits vases en bronze, ainsi que de la céramique attique à figures rouges. Tout cela indique, selon les fouilleurs, la présence à proximité du futur rempart d’un sanctuaire de la fin de l’époque archaïque et de l’époque classique, pour lequel il n’existe pour l’heure aucune autre information. K. KISSAS, « Neue Forschungen in der antiken Stadt Pheneos/Peloponnes », JÖAI 80 (2011), p. 155–166 ; G. GIANNAKOPOULOS et al., « Pheneos 2011. Bericht zur ersten Grabungs- und Surveykampagne », JÖAI 81 (2012), p. 51–67.

68 02.10 – Sicyone – Probablement le meilleur connaisseur de la région, Y. Lolos propose à travers un ouvrage aussi imposant que savant une synthèse des connaissances patiemment collectées au cours de ses recherches de terrain sur la cité et le territoire de Sicyone. Après avoir présenté le paysage, l’A. dresse une synthèse magistrale sur l’occupation de la région à travers le temps, de l’époque préhistorique à la période ottomane. Suivent plusieurs chapitres consacrés aux voies de communication, au système de défense du territoire, à l’occupation humaine et, enfin, aux sanctuaires urbains, suburbains et extra-urbains. Agrémenté de nombreuses cartes et d’une riche illustration, le volume documente une série impressionnante de sites préalablement inédits. Reconstituant le paysage sacré de la cité, l’A. procède à une lecture critique de Pausanias parallèlement à la discussion des vestiges mis au jour à travers la ville et le territoire. Notons qu’en appendice, on trouvera également une présentation des découvertes effectuées entre 1995 et 2003 par l’Éphorie de paléoanthropologie et de spéléologie dans la grotte de Lechova, dans le village actuel de Kryoneri sur le territoire de la cité de Sicyone (cf. ChronARG [2006] 02.05, [2010] 02.07 et [2012] 02.07) ; comme l’ont montré les graffiti, la grotte est dédiée aux Nymphes.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 349

Y.A. LOLOS, Land of Sikyon: The Archaeology and History of a Greek City-State, Princeton, 2011 (Hesperia, suppl. 39).

69 – École américaine d’Athènes – E. Østby a mené une étude architecturale du temple et de l’autel fouillé entre 1928 et 1988. Le temple a connu trois phases de construction : deux à l’époque archaïque (VIIe et VIe s.) et une au début de l’époque hellénistique. L’autel archaïque fut restauré à l’époque hellénistique. Une base ronde dans le sékos du temple servit probablement comme support d’un grand trépied. Avec cet argument, Østby identifie le bâtiment au temple d’Apollon mentionné par Pausanias (II 7, 8–9). V. PETRAKOS, Ergon 58 (2011), p. 17 ; Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2487.

Argolide

70 02.11 – Prosymna (Héraion) – École américaine – Si on sait très bien que les grands sanctuaires comme Olympie ou Épidaure hébergent chacun plusieurs divinités en marge du culte principal, on s’en tient d’ordinaire à l’idée que l’Héraion d’Argos était exclusivement consacré au culte d’Héra Argeia. L’A. présente ici les éléments (un skyphos pourvu d’un graffito et un petit autel monolithe inscrit) attestant à Prosymna une activité cultuelle, certes modeste et restreinte pour l’heure à l’époque classique, en relation avec un héros anonyme et Artémis. Chr.A. PFAFF, « Artemis and a Hero at the Argive Heraion », Hesperia 82 (2013), p. 277– 299.

71 02.12 – Argos– École française d’Athènes et IV e Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Prenant la suite de plusieurs volumes déjà édités, l’École française d’Athènes et la IVe Éphorie ont organisé du 25 au 28 septembre 2003, à l’occasion du centenaire des fouilles françaises à Argos, un colloque, dont D. Mulliez livre ici tardivement les actes. Outre diverses contributions sur l’histoire des fouilles à Argos, on retiendra diverses communications faisant état de fouilles et matériel inédits ayant trait à l’archéologie des cultes. Citons en particulier une synthèse de M.-Fr. Billot sur les terres cuites architecturales des sanctuaires d’Argos, une contribution de J.-Fr. Bommelaer sur les monuments argiens d’époque classique à Delphes, une note de Ch. Krizas apportant des éléments épigraphiques inédits sur la construction et la décoration du nouveau temple d’Héra et de la statue chryséléphantine de la déesse, une synthèse fort originale de P. Marchetti sur le développement de la ville d’Argos plaidant en faveur d’un espace initial libre, sacré et dépourvu d’enceinte, un article de Chr. Piteros consacré à l’acropole de la Larissa et notamment aux sanctuaires d’Athéna Polias et de Zeus Larisaios, les recherches d’O. Pchychoyos sur la localisation du stade antique, une présentation par E. Palaiologou d’une voie en cailloutis reliant l’Héraion à la ville d’Argos à partir de l’époque classique, un résumé par A. Ivantchik des informations disponibles sur la vie religieuse et les cultes païens à Argos au IVe et au début du Ve s. ap. J.‑C., ainsi qu’une nouvelle étude de K. Barakari-Gleni sur le petit lieu de culte urbain mis au jour à l’occasion des fouilles menées de 1998 à 2000 dans le secteur SE de la ville (cf. ChronARG [2002] 02.07, [2007] 02.06 et [2012] 02.08). D. MULLIEZ (éd.), Sur les pas de Wilhelm Vollgraff. Cent ans d’activités archéologiques à Argos. Actes du colloque internationalorganisé par la IVe EPKA et l’École française d’Athènes, 25–28 septembre 2003, Athènes, 2013 (Recherches franco-helléniques, IV).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 350

72 – IVe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2004, un lieu de culte consacré à Artémis a été identifié rue Kallergi (à l’O du terrain Roussou). Les fouilles ont livré, à proximité d’un atelier de céramique d’époque romaine, un dépôt votif comprenant de la céramique hellénistique, parmi laquelle un fragment de petit modèle de temple, une figurine d’Artémis et un fragment d’autel avec l’inscription [---] Ἀπολλωνίδας Ἀριστονίκα | [--‑]Κορινθίω τᾶι Ἀρτάμιτι ἀνέθηκαν. Chr. PITEROS, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 60.

73 02.13 – Épidaure – L’A. propose une synthèse archéologique complète sur la cité d’Épidaure. Pour le sanctuaire d’Héra et d’Artémis, on verra surtout les pages 72–74 et 78–79. R. PROSKYNITOPOULOU, Αρχαία Επίδαυρος. Εικόνες μιας αργολικής πόλης από την προϊστορική εποχή έως την ύστερη αρχαιότητα. Αρχαιολογικά ευρήματα και ιστορικές μαρτυρίες , Athènes, 2011.

Arcadie

74 02.14 – Episkopi – XXXIXe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Au N de Tégée, dans le hameau d’Episkopi, les fouilles de l’Éphorie ont mis au jour un atelier de céramique (terrain Oikonomopoulou). Sa production est directement liée à un sanctuaire, probablement un temple, dont la localisation est supposée dans la région proche. M. PETROPOULOS, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο των Εφορειών Αρχαιοτήτων , Athènes, 2012, p. 124 (disponible en ligne http://www.yppo.gr/0/anaskafes/).

75 02.15 – Tégée –Une figurine féminine en bronze provenant du sanctuaire d’Athéna Aléa, datée sans doute du VIIe s., permet à l’A. de reprendre l’étude des rites menés autour du culte des ancêtres à cette époque dans l’ensemble de l’Arcadie. E. SALAVOURA, « Χάλκινο γυναικείο ειδώλιο από το ιερό της Αθηνάς Αλέας στην Τεγέα: νέα θεώρηση ενός παλιού ευρήματος », AD 58–64, A’ (2003–2009), p. 101–122. 76 02.16 – Pallantio – XXXIXe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Les travaux de construction de l’autoroute Corinthe-Tripoli-Kalamata ont permis de mettre au jour, dans la plaine de la carrière Hontos, un sanctuaire de l’époque hellénistique, probablement à caractère agricole. M. PETROPOULOS, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 124. 77 02.17 – Arachamitai (Aghia Paraskevi) (anc. Lykoa) – Institut archéologique finlandais – Depuis 2006, les fouilleurs finlandais explorent un complexe associé à Artémis sur la colline d’Aghia Paraskevi (cf. ChronARG [2010] 02.15). Les fouilles se sont poursuivies en 2011 et 2012. La stoa hellénistique, construite dans la première moitié du IIe s. et détruite dans les dernières décennies du Ier s., servait d’hestiatorion, mais certaines pièces étaient également utilisées comme bains. Aucun signe d’activité cultuelle n’est clairement attesté à l’intérieur de l’édifice, mais les marques imprimées sur les tuiles ( ΑΡΤΕΜΙTΟΣ ΛΥΚΟΑΤΙΔΟΣ) et une grande quantité de figurines et de vases miniatures évoquent clairement un sanctuaire. La seule attestation connue de l’épithète Lykoatis renvoie à la petite cité ménalienne de Lykoa, connue par Pausanias (VIII 36, 5–8) dans sa description de la route reliant Mégalopolis aux montagnes de Ménalie le long de la rivière Hélisson. Ces tuiles permettent donc, selon les fouilleurs, de localiser la cité de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 351

Lykoa sur le site d’Aghia Paraskevi. Les niveaux inférieurs ont livré les traces d’une activité probablement cultuelle datant du milieu du VIe au milieu du IVe s., sans qu’elles puissent pour l’heure être associées à aucun édifice : on y trouve des vases à boire, ainsi que des vases miniatures et deux couronnes votives miniatures en plomb. Les nouvelles fouilles ont également montré que la stoa hellénistique avait été construite sur un édifice antérieur, de fonction probablement analogue, construit dans la seconde moitié du IVe s., qui resta en usage durant tout le IIIe s.

M. PETROPOULOS, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 125 ; Z. ARCHIBALD, AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 21. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2422 et 3257.

78 02.18 – Mavria (anc. Bathos) – XXXIXe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Le secteur de la chapelle d’Aghios Georgios, aujourd’hui en ruine, le long du fleuve Alphée, a pu être identifié en 2004 au site de Bathos, mentionné par Pausanias (VIII 29, 1). Tous les trois ans, des fêtes à mystères s’y déroulaient en l’honneur des Grandes Déesses. A.V. KARAPANAGIOTOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 229.

79 02.19 – Mont Lycée –XXXIXe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques et École américaine d’Athènes – Les recherches archéologiques menées sur le mont Lycée ont permis d’explorer le temenos de Zeus Lykaios et d’y documenter une activité cultuelle depuis l’âge du Bronze (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.13). Après deux saisons de travaux préliminaires (2004–2005) et cinq saisons de fouilles (2006–2010), les campagnes sont consacrées depuis 2011 à l’étude du matériel en vue d’une publication détaillée. M. PETROPOULOS, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 127. Voir également http://lykaionexcavation.org et http://parrhasianheritagepark.org. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2419.

Laconie

80 02.20 – Taygète (Sela) –Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – La construction d’une route dans la région du sanctuaire a permis la découverte d’un matériel abondant qui va du GR à l’époque romaine. La grande variété des objets témoigne d’une activité importante de ce sanctuaire de confins, surtout à l’époque hellénistique : de la céramique, des tuiles, des vases en verre (parmi lesquelles des fragments de mosaic glass), des pinakes, un skyphos protogéométrique, ainsi qu’un fragment de l’un des premiers vases vitrifiés en relief connus dans la région. E. ZAVVOU, A. THEMOS, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 212–213.

81 02.21 – Magoula – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – À Magoula (terrain Arapakou), sur la route de Sparte à Kalamata, des fragments de sculptures romaines avec leurs bases — parmi lesquelles une statuette archaïsante d’Asclépios et deux statuettes des Dioscures — semblent provenir d’un sanctuaire domestique. E. ZAVVOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 227.

82 02.22 – Sparte–Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques, École britannique d’Athènes et École italienne d’Athènes – Exploré par l’École britannique entre 1905 et 1910, le sanctuaire d’Artémis Orthia prend désormais place dans les programmes de l’École italienne à travers un intérêt pour Sparte — on verra également les travaux d’E. Greco sur l’Agora. En collaboration avec l’École britannique, un réexamen critique des résultats publiés et de l’ensemble de la documentation d’archive permet à l’A. de revoir

Kernos, 27 | 2014 352

les conclusions et les chronologies naguère élaborées par les archéologues britanniques et de définir plus précisément les phases les plus anciennes du sanctuaire. L’étude se prolongera à travers la réalisation d’une thèse de doctorat, comprenant notamment une base de données liée à un SIG. Les archéologues disposeront alors de tous les éléments nécessaires pour reprendre l’étude archéologique du site et en retracer l’histoire cultuelle dans un cadre civique. Fr. LUONGO, « Cui bono ? Perché tornare a riflettere sulle fasi arcaiche del santuario di Artemis Orthia a Sparta ? », ASAtene 11/1 (2011), p. 79–94.

83 – Dans le cadre d’une thèse de doctorat en archéologie consacrée à la naissance et au développement de la cité de Sparte (soutenue à l’Université de Pérouse en 2012), l’A. détaille ici une partie de son argumentation sur le rôle des cultes héroïques liés aux tombes géométriques dans la construction civique et urbaine particulière de la Sparte pré-hellénistique. Dispersés à travers le tissu urbain éclaté d’une ville organisée kata komas, les nombreux cultes héroïques liés à d’antiques sépultures constituaient autant de foyers cultuels auxquels les communautés et les individus pouvaient se rattacher. L’A. détaille en particulier l’exemple de l’hérôon archaïque de la rue Staufert découvert en 1996 (cf. ChronARG [2003] 02.08). V. TOSTI, « Una riflessione sui culti eroici nella Sparta katà komas. L’edificio con banchina di odos Staufert », ASAtene 11/1 (2011), p. 95–108.

84 – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Les fouilles de sauvetage ont mis au jour, à divers endroits de la ville de Sparte, des dépôts d’offrandes, à partir desquels on peut supposer l’existence de quelques lieux de culte de l’époque archaïque à l’époque romaine. Plus particulièrement, dans les terrains Panagaki, Markou et Kourkouli, un dépôt votif à Artémis, dont l’usage s’étend de l’époque archaïque au début de l’époque romaine, a été découvert en-dessous d’une villa urbana romaine. Parmi les trouvailles, citons des protomés féminines en terre cuite (très rares à Sparte), des figurines de courotrophes, des banqueteurs, des figurines féminines ou masculines debout, nues ou habillées, des figurines d’Artémis chasseresse, dont certaines portent la signature du céramiste, ainsi que des vases miniatures. Le terrain Stratakou-Katsari, rue Vrasidou, comportait un bâtiment d’époque romaine construit en grande partie avec des fragments de sculpture et d’architecture classiques et hellénistiques en remploi (deux seuils, un chapiteau dorique, une base avec une dédicace à la Mère des dieux et une petite stèle avec la représentation de la déesse). Signalons aussi un grand nombre de vases miniatures, des figurines en terre cuite, une figurine masculine en métal, une stèle de marbre avec représentation d’amphore (symbole des Dioscures), ainsi que des objets en os. L’ensemble atteste l’existence d’un sanctuaire de la Mère des dieux sur le site (cf. déjà ChronARG [2012] 02.16). En 2003, l’Éphorie a également mené des travaux de nettoyage et de restauration sur l’autel de Lycurgue, l’Hérôon d’Astravakos, l’autel de Psychikos, le sanctuaire du terrain Stavropoulou et sur le temple d’Artémis Orthia. M. PETROPOULOS, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 93–94 ; AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 179, 237, 240, 244–246, 248, 257, 263, 275.

85 02.23 – Aghia Kyriaki – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Sur la pente S de la colline du sanctuaire d’Apollon, à l’intérieur du mur de soutènement, une grande quantité d’offrandes de céramique de l’HM et du GR a été rassemblée. Parmi les trouvailles, signalons une tête de figurine d’animal avec des dessins incisés. E. ZAVVOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 212.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 353

86 02.24 – Amyclées – Entre 1956 et 1961, puis à nouveau en 1998 (cf. ChronARG [2007] 02.09), était découvert à Amyclées près de l’église d’Aghia Paraskévi un très riche dépôt votif correspondant au sanctuaire d’Agamemnon et d’Alexandra-Cassandre. Parmi les milliers d’offrandes, de nombreuses plaques en terre cuite archaïques et classiques figurent un personnage assis (homme ou femme) tenant un vase à boire (homme) ou une œnochoé et des offrandes (femme) et souvent accompagné par un serpent, dont l’A. propose ici une étude, après celle consacrée aux plaques représentant une triade féminine (cf. ChronARG [2010] 02.18). La présence du serpent, qui apparaît également dans d’autres séries votives du sanctuaire, renvoie au caractère héroïque du couple Agamemnon-Cassandre et du culte associé. La découverte de certaines de ces plaques dans des dépôts votifs sur tombes géométriques, comme à Limnai, confirme le caractère spécifiquement héroïque d’une telle iconographie. Cette série de plaques en terre cuite est du reste attestée dans d’autres sanctuaires de Laconie et de Messénie, à l’exception toutefois des principaux sanctuaires spartiates (Athéna Chalkioikos, Artémis Orthia et Apollon Amycléen). L’iconographie se retrouve en outre dans une série bien connue de reliefs sculptés en pierre, qui vont de l’époque archaïque à l’époque impériale. G. SALAPATA, « Laconian and Messenian Plaques with Seated Figures : The Socio-Political Dimension », BSA 108 (2013), p. 187–200.

87 – Notons que la chapelle byzantine d’Aghios Nikolaos au lieu-dit Daphni est construite en grande partie avec des remplois de fragments architecturaux provenant du temple d’Apollon Amycléen. E. ZAVVOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 213.

88 02.25 – Daphni (anc. Krokées) – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Une stèle en relief avec dédicace à Péan, trouvée en remploi dans l’église de l’Assomption, atteste son culte en Laconie pour la première fois. E. ZAVVOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 213.

89 02.26 – Karitsa – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Au SO de Karitsa, sur la pente E de la colline de Bourtzomichalo, les archéologues grecs ont repéré une terrasse dédiée à la construction d’un temple classique ou hellénistique. Les premières conclusions des fouilles ont été présentées dans Sparta and Laconia, p. 105–120 (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.15). A. THEMOS, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 214.

90 02.27 – Aghios Georgios (anc. Boia) – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Sur le site Vlisidi (mont Tourla), les archéologues grecs signalent des vestiges architecturaux correspondant sans doute à un petit temple. Sur le site Kastria (ou Aspralona), des assises en calcaire ont été repérées provenant d’un petit sanctuaire, détruit lors de la construction d’une route moderne. E. ZAVVOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 215.

91 02.28 – Malea –Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Quatre fragments de vases miniatures ont été découverts sur le sommet de la colline de Vardia ; en tant qu’offrandes caractéristiques, ils témoignent de l’existence d’un sanctuaire sur le site. E. ZAVVOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 216. Cf. aussi Lakonikai Spoudai 16 (2002), p. 216.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 354

92 02.29 – Kotronas (anc. Teuthronè) – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2001, au lieu-dit Pano Pigi, sur le site de la chapelle d’Aghios Nikolaos, les archéologues grecs ont poursuivi leurs travaux sur le Nymphée de Naïa, désormais identifié avec certitude. Quatre objets trouvés sur le site supposé du sanctuaire d’Artémis Issoria sont rapportés à son culte : un relief d’Artémis avec chien (aujourd’hui conservé au Musée archéologique de Sparte, no Μ?1556Σ15561), un petit autel portatif inscrit (IG V 1, 1219) avec des représentations aniconiques, une stèle dédicatoire de la fin de l’époque hellénistique (IG V 1, 1218) avec l’image d’un porcelet, ainsi qu’un fragment d’inscription dédicatoire d’époque romaine. L. MOSCHOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 301–304 et 307.

93 02.30 – Argilia – Ve Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Sur le site de Salia, entre les villages d’Argilia et de Dryali, parmi les ruines d’un monastère post-byzantin situé le long d’une route, les archéologues grecs pensent pouvoir identifier un sanctuaire de confins. Des fragments architecturaux ont été remployés dans les constructions avoisinantes. L. MOSCHOU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 309–310.

Messénie

94 02.31 – Akovitika – M. Kiderlen et P. Themelis publient les résultats des fouilles menées en 2005 sur le sanctuaire de Poséidon à la suite des sondages effectués en 1969. L’ouvrage présente la géologie, l’architecture, la céramique et les inscriptions du sanctuaire, suivies de commentaires sur l’histoire et les cultes du site. Localisé dans la région de Kalamata, sur un site marécageux, le sanctuaire de Poséidon, dont les premiers vestiges remontent à l’âge du Fer, aurait servi, selon les A., de lieu de culte pour les marins et aurait accueilli le déroulement de la fête des Pohoidaia/Poseidaia. Les A. envisagent la construction du paysage religieux dans un contexte géographique précis et discutent le choix du lieu pour l’implantation du culte, qui fut apparemment ininterrompu du début du XIe s. au milieu du IVe s. Des fragments de trépieds, situés entre 900 et 825, et des trouvailles prestigieuses témoignent de contacts avec d’autres grands sanctuaires, ainsi qu’une fréquentation du site par une communauté aisée. Enfin, les A. tentent de replacer le culte dans le cadre plus général de l’histoire politique de Laconie, y trouvant une explication de l’abandon du sanctuaire, de l’implantation de la fête à Thouria et d’un déplacement général des rites dans la région. M. KIDERLEN, P. THEMELIS (éd.), Das Poseidonheiligtum bei Akovitika im Messenien. Struktur und Entwicklungszusammenhang eines regionalen Zentrums. Ergebnisse einer Notgrabung 1969 und einer Nachuntersuchung mit Prospektion 2005, Wiesbaden, 2010.

95 02.32 – Thouria– Société archéologique d’Athènes – Parmi les édifices fouillés à Thouria, le bâtiment Γ (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.20) est désormais identifié avec certitude comme un temple dorique dédié à Asclépios et Hygie grâce à l’inscription dédicatoire de l’une des deux bases retrouvées en 2011 devant l’entrée du temple. Notons aussi la découverte d’un pilier hermaïque portant une dédicace à Hermès. Entre le temple et la stoa située au N, les archéologues ont mis au jour une grande quantité d’ossements d’animaux, de coquillages, de tessons et de cendres formant une couche épaisse. Les trouvailles datent du IVe au IIe s. : de la céramique, surtout des coupes moulées, deux

Kernos, 27 | 2014 355

monnaies en bronze, dont une messénienne du IIIe s., quelques astragales, ainsi qu’un tesson à vernis noir avec le graffito [ΑΣΚ]ΛΑΠΙ[ΩΙ].

X. ARAPOGIANNI, « Ανασκαφή στην Αρχαία Θουρία », PAE 164 (2009), p. 47–60 et PAE 165 (2010), p. 27–31. V. PETRAKOS, Ergon 58 (2011), p. 24–26 ; Ergon 59 (2012), p. 32–42. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2565 et 3314.

96 02.33 – Romanos –XXXVIIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Au SO de l’agglomération, à côté d’une tombe à chambre, les archéologues grecs ont fouillé un grand bâtiment rectangulaire d’orientation E-O avec une colonnade intérieure dans son axe longitudinal ; il s’agit probablement d’un temple. L’édifice fut construit à l’époque archaïque et sa fréquentation s’étend jusqu’à l’époque hellénistique. À l’O du temple, les archéologues ont repéré un sanctuaire de plein air, avec une concentration de figurines féminines du type potnia therôn datées du VIIe s. X. ARAPOGIANNI, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο , supra, 02.14, p. 119–121. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2571.

97 02.34 – Messène– Société archéologique d’Athènes – P. Themelis revient en détail, dans les Praktika, sur les activités archéologiques menées à Messène en 2009 et 2010, dont nous avons déjà rendu compte brièvement (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.21). Plus particulièrement, sur la pente S du mont Ithomè, à 300 m au NO du sanctuaire d’Artémis Limnatis, le temple d’Ilithyie a été complètement dégagé. Les fouilleurs ont mis en évidence un sekos (5,45 × 5,15 m) avec prodomos (1,80 × 5,15 m) et prostasis tétrastyle ionienne. Les orthostates sont conservés in situ avec quelques assises de l’élévation. Au milieu du sekos, devant le mur O, une base en calcaire portait la statue de culte en marbre de petite taille. Le corps de la statue de la déesse en péplos fut trouvé à faible distance du temple parmi des fragments architecturaux. Sur la krepis, une inscription, gravée sur 1,95 m de long, peut être lue ainsi : Θηρύλος ἐνίκ(α), Αἰθίδας | Καλᾶι. Καλή paraît avoir été le qualificatif d’Ilithyie (cf. l’inscription de Santorin IG XIII 3, 380). D’autres dédicaces à Ἐλεύθια — selon l’orthographe locale — ont été trouvées sur l’agora et dans l’Asclépieion de Messène, témoignant ainsi de la présence du culte en l’honneur de la déesse. Parmi les trouvailles, signalons un grand nombre de figurines féminines avec porcelets ou hydries, une femme avec nourrisson, ainsi que des figurines d’animaux, surtout des chevaux et des bovins. Les vestiges architecturaux de la terrasse supérieure sont attribués au megaron des Courètes, mentionné par Pausanias (IV 31, 9). Notons également que sur le sommet du mont Ithomè, à l’emplacement du monastère de Boulkanos, se trouvent les fondations du sanctuaire de Zeus Ithomatas. Sa construction précède la fondation de la ville de Messène et sa fréquentation était liée à une petite cité nommée Ithomè. La représentation de Zeus Ithomatas se rencontre sur les monnaies, sur lesquelles le dieu figure tenant la foudre et l’aigle. P.G. THEMELIS, « Ἀνασκαφὴ Μεσσήνης », PAE 164 (2009), p. 61–98 et PAE 165 (2010), p. 53– 64.

98 – L’activité de P. Themelis à Messène en 2011 et 2012 s’est essentiellement concentrée sur les vestiges architecturaux de l’agora. D’un point de vue cultuel, mentionnons tout au plus, à côté de l’aile E de la stoa N, les vestiges d’un bâtiment mis en relation avec un sanctuaire en l’honneur d’une divinité inconnue. Sur les pentes du mont Ithomè, de nouveaux sondages sur la terrasse du sanctuaire d’Ilithyie ont livré de nombreux vases

Kernos, 27 | 2014 356

miniatures (essentiellement des hydriskoi) et des figurines en terre cuite, probablement associés à un dépôt votif. V. PETRAKOS, Ergon 58 (2011), p. 22–24 ; Ergon 59 (2012), p. 43–49. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2563 et 3315.

99 02.35 – Ano Melpeia (Petroula) – VIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2011, les archéologues grecs ont poursuivi les travaux entamés en 2010 sur le temple dorique découvert en 1995 (cf. ChronARG [2010] 02.22), permettant de situer les fondations du temple à la fin du VIe ou au début du Ve s. Parmi le matériel, signalons divers vases miniatures, de nombreuses pointes de lance en fer, une figurine de guerrier en bronze, ainsi qu’une plaque en bronze décorée en relief d’une procession de femmes. X. ARAPOGIANNI, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο , supra, 02.14, p. 120–122. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2582.

Élide

100 02.36 – Perivolia (anc. Phigalie) –VIIe Éphorie des antiquités classiques et préhistoriques – En 2005, les archéologues grecs ont retrouvé en dehors de la fortification de la ville antique de Phigalie, à 1,35 km de l’acropole du Prophitis Elias et à 4,30 km du temple d’Apollon Epikourios, les vestiges d’un petit temple publié pour la première fois par Fr. Cooper en 1970 ; l’Éphorie a remblayé le site après avoir effectué un relevé du monument et des vestiges. Entre 2006 et 2008, des fouilles systématiques ont par ailleurs révélé un temple (9,90 × 6,60 m) au lieu-dit Diaselo. Au N du temple, les archéologues grecs ont mis au jour une partie du péribole ou une section de mur de soutènement, ainsi qu’une canalisation d’eau ouverte, en pierre, sur une longueur de 110 m, d’orientation NO-SE. La base de la statue de culte ainsi qu’un autel à offrandes (avec pieds de lion) ont été trouvés. X. ARAPOGIANNI, G. CHATZI, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 105‑107. 101 02.37 – Prasidaki –Société archéologique d’Athènes et VIIe Éphorie des antiquités classiques et préhistoriques – En 2002, les archéologues grecs ont poursuivi les fouilles du temple dorique d’Athéna, au lieu-dit Elleniko/Leniko (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.24). Ils ont fouillé un dépôt votif comportant notamment une très grande quantité de figurines en terre cuite, environ 900 pinakes archaïques, des vases miniatures, ainsi que des offrandes en bronze et en plomb. Dans la partie S du temple, à faible distance de la peristasis, les fouilles ont révélé au niveau de la crépis les vestiges de deux murs préhistoriques. Le temple périptère (6 × 13 colonnes) est construit en tuf, avec pronaos, sekos et opisthodome sur une krepis à trois degrés, élevée sur une solide euthynteria. Le sekos comportait probablement une double colonnade intérieure et la base de la statue de culte a été conservée. Les tuiles en terre cuite portaient un important décor peint. Les fouilles dans le pronaos ont montré que le sol a été remblayé à cet endroit : dans les fondations, sept chapiteaux archaïques ont été trouvés. Au‑dessus de la fondation du mur E du pronaos, une « rampe » en pierre a été dégagée, peut-être l’entrée du temple précédent, ainsi que des restes de murs appartenant probablement au temple archaïque. Du côté de l’opisthodome, le sol était dallé. La plupart des objets étaient concentrés au niveau du pronaos. La fréquentation du site est attestée de l’époque archaïque à l’époque classique, tandis que l’édifice fut probablement détruit au Ie ou au IIe s. ap. J.-C. par un tremblement de terre et un incendie. La dédicace ΑΘΑΝΑΙ ΑΓΟΡΙΟΙΣ

Kernos, 27 | 2014 357

ΑΡΙΟΥΝΤΙΑΣ ΑΝΕΘΕΚΕΝ, gravée sur la lèvre d’une phiale en bronze, confirme l’identité de la divinité honorée, tandis que l’épithète ΑΓΟΡΙΟΙΣ indique que le temple se trouvait sur l’agora. La quantité et la variété des découvertes, ainsi que le caractère monumental de la construction suggèrent l’importance du culte. X. ARAPOGIANNI, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 403, 415–417, 433 et 449 ; X. ARAPOGIANNI, G. CHATZI, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 105. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2506.

102 02.38 – Lepreo – VIIe Éphorie des antiquités classiques et préhistoriques – À Lepreo, un petit sanctuaire a été étudié par les archéologues de l’Éphorie. X. ARAPOGIANNI, G. CHATZI, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 106. 103 02.39 – Samikon – Institut archéologique allemand – Dans le cadre des travaux de topographie historique menés par les archéologues allemands en Triphylie, une série de gros blocs de fondation ont été localisés en contrebas du village de Samiko (anc. Samikon), vers la mer. Les archéologues proposent d’y voir l’emplacement du sanctuaire fédéral des Triphyliens, dédié à Poséidon qui, selon Strabon (VIII 3, 13 et 20), se trouvait près de la mer. « Jahresbericht 2011 », AA (2012/1) Beiheft, p. 104–105.

104 02.40 – Olympie – Institut archéologique allemand – En 2011 et 2012, les travaux des archéologues allemands se sont concentrés sur la partie S du sanctuaire. Au-dessous d’une couche de mortier datée de la fin de l’époque classique, d’une couche de remblai contenant des tessons classiques et hellénistiques et d’un dépôt de cendres, les fouilleurs ont trouvé un sol rouge, probablement le sol d’un four de potier. De nombreux objets en métal ont été découverts, surtout en fer, quelques feuilles en bronze et les fragments d’un gorgoneion archaïque de bouclier. Un nettoyage minutieux a par ailleurs été réalisé en collaboration avec la VIIe Éphorie sur le site du gymnase, afin de préparer les campagnes de fouilles des années à venir. Du côté du stade, un sondage a permis de mettre au jour, comme cela avait déjà été fait lors des fouilles de 1879, la ligne de départ et de mieux comprendre le mécanisme complexe qui y était associé, datant du début de l’époque impériale avec un probable prédécesseur hellénistique. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 2505 et 2973. Z. ARCHIBALD, AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 21– 22.

105 – VIIe Éphorie des antiquités classiques et préhistoriques – Sur le site des installations de l’Académie internationale olympique, à 150 m à l’E du site archéologique d’Olympie, les archéologues grecs ont mis au jour en 2006–2008 les fondations d’un temple en tuf d’orientation E-O (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.27). Le bâtiment date du début du Ve s. Les couches successives de tuiles et les murs des périodes postérieures permettent de restituer plusieurs phases et dénotent une grande activité de construction sur le site jusqu’aux IIIe et IVe s. ap. J.-C. Parmi le matériel, signalons des statuettes en terre cuite de bovins et de porcelets, des figurines féminines et masculines, des masques, des fragments de grandes sculptures en terre cuite, ainsi que des figurines de Cerbère à double tête tenant un gâteau sacrificiel dans la gueule. En particulier, un grand Cerbère porte sur la poitrine l’inscription gravée [ΔΑ]ΜΑΤΡΙ | ΚΟΡ[Α ΒΑ]ΣΙΛΕΙ, dédicace à Déméter, Korè et à Basileus (Plouton). Le lieu de la fouille, les vestiges des bâtiments et surtout le mobilier permettent d’identifier ce lieu de culte avec le sanctuaire de Déméter Chamynè, mentionné par Pausanias (VI 21, 1–2) au N de l’hippodrome de l’Olympie.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 358

Même s’il est impossible de connaître la destination exacte du bâtiment antique, il est certain qu’il fait partie du sanctuaire de la déesse. Pour la première fois du reste, des vestiges nous éclairent sur la nature chthonienne et particulière de Déméter à Olympie. Jusqu’à présent, seul l’autel de pierre en l’honneur de la déesse était connu, sur la partie N du stade. X. ARAPOGIANNI, G. CHATZI, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 107. 106 – À travers la publication d’un catalogue complet des 882 casques (pour la plupart inédits) découverts à Olympie (et de leurs contextes), H. Frielinghaus offre une synthèse remarquable sur les pratiques votives liées aux armes à Olympie et dans les sanctuaires grecs plus généralement. Un premier volet de l’ouvrage discute la typologie, la chronologie et le dénombrement des pièces présentées dans le catalogue, tandis que le second aborde ce matériel sous l’angle de l’offrande : dédicants, pratiques votives, modes d’accrochage, durée d’exposition, sans oublier un catalogue des inscriptions présentes sur les armes d’Olympie. Il s’agit là non seulement d’un instrument de travail remarquable pour l’étude du sanctuaire d’Olympie, mais aussi d’une synthèse sur l’armement et sur l’offrande d’armes en Grèce ancienne. Parallèlement, on mentionnera également l’ouvrage de H. Born, qui aborde le même sujet d’un point de vue technique. H. FRIELINGHAUS, Die Helme von Olympia: Ein Beitrag zu Waffenweihungen in griechischen Heiligtümern, Berlin, 2011 (OlForsch 33) ; H. BORN, Die Helme des Hephaistos. Handwerk und Technik griechischer Bronzen in Olympia, Munich, 2009.

107 – H. Kyrieleis revient, dans un long article, sur l’interprétation du programme iconographique du temple de Zeus à Olympie. Prolongeant l’idée d’une introduction tardive du culte du héros Pélops à Olympie (à la suite de la restructuration complète du sanctuaire vers 600) à l’instigation de la cité d’Élis qui étend sa mainmise sur le sanctuaire (cf. ChronARG [2008] 02.10), l’A. montre que des allusions claires à l’histoire mythique d’Élis apparaissent dans le décor sculpté des deux frontons et des métopes. H. KYRIELEIS, « Pelops, Herakles, Theseus. Zur Interpretation der Skulpturen des Zeustemples von Olympia », JDAI 127–128 (2012–2013), p. 51–123.

108 – L’A. entreprend le réexamen systématique du monument dédié à Olympie par la cité d’Apollonia d’Illyrie au milieu du Ve s. Célèbre par la description de Pausanias (V 22, 2– 4), l’offrande n’a guère laissé que quelques vestiges de la base semi-circulaire sur laquelle se dressaient naguère les statues des principaux héros de la guerre de Troie, accompagnés de Zeus, Thétis et Éos. Renonçant à l’interprétation traditionnelle opposant Achéens et Troyens, l’A. souligne, à la suite de C. Antonetti, l’importance des traditions locales associant les héros de la guerre de Troie, Achéens et Troyens, au territoire épirote, rappelant que cette dualité mythologique répond également aux origines mixtes, corintho-corcyréennes, de la colonie d’Apollonia. J. PICCININI, « Ἀντιτεταγμένοι: Sul monumento degli Apolloniati a Olimpia », ASAtene 11/1 (2011), p. 237–250.

109 – À côté des nombreux sphyrelata en bronze découverts à Olympie, H. Baitinger songe à restituer un probable sphyrelaton en argent. Cette statue, qui aurait sans doute été l’une des offrandes les plus sensationnelles du sanctuaire à l’époque archaïque, n’est toutefois restituée qu’à partir de quelques éléments de bronze relatifs à sa structure interne et analogues au fameux taureau d’argent de Delphes. H. BAITINGER, « Ein silbernes Sphyrelaton aus Olympia ? », AM 125 (2010), p. 119–132.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 359

110 – L’A. s’intéresse au grand nymphée d’Olympie dédié par Appia Regilla, l’épouse d’Hérode Atticus, qui occupa la prêtrise de Déméter Chamynè en 149 ou 153 ap. J.-C. Inscrit délibérément dans une longue tradition d’offrandes monumentales, le nymphée venait prolonger l’enfilade d’édifices de la terrasse des trésors. Tout en replaçant celui- ci dans une série plus large d’installations hydrauliques construites par de riches mécènes dans les sanctuaires grecs à l’époque impériale (en particulier à Éleusis et à Xanthos), l’A. s’intéresse à la manière dont ces nouveaux éléments de parure se sont intégrés dans la pratique séculaire des cultes et eurent un impact sur l’expérience vécue par les fidèles. B. LONGFELLOW, « Roman Fountains in Greek Sanctuaries », AJA 116 (2012), p. 133–155.

111 – Du 31 août 2012 au 7 janvier 2013, s’est tenue au Martin-Gropius-Bau de Berlin une exposition sur Olympie. Le somptueux catalogue de l’exposition offre l’occasion aux principaux spécialistes de dresser des bilans thématiques sur le sanctuaire et ses cultes, mais aussi sur l’histoire de la redécouverte du site et de son exploration du XIXe s. à nos jours, ainsi que sur le sport et sa signification sociale dans l’Antiquité. W.-D. HEILMEYER et al., Mythos Olympia: Kult und Spiele, Munich, 2012.

112 02.41 – Tragano – VIIe Éphorie des antiquités classiques et préhistoriques – Les archéologues grecs ont fouillé (terrain Georgiou) un dépôt votif comportant un très grand nombre d’offrandes de la fin de l’époque archaïque à l’époque hellénistique : lécythes de fabrication locale, vases miniatures, figurines en terre cuite, pinakes, canthares, figurines d’oiseau, bijoux en bronze, tétradrachmes d’Alexandre en argent (280–250), ainsi que des vases en verre. X. ARAPOGIANNI, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 428–429.

Achaïe

113 02.42 – Petrochori – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2005, un temple de l’époque classique avec péribole a été fouillé dans une zone forestière, sur la colline du Prophitis Elias. Son sékos (22,60 × 10 m), d’orientation E-O, est construit d’assises de grès. En 2001, les restes d’une route antique et de la céramique remontant au GR avaient déjà été découverts au même endroit. M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο των Εφορειών Αρχαιοτήτων, supra 02.14, p. 101. A. VASILOGAMVROU, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 525. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 3917.

114 02.43 – Théa (anc. Antheia) –VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2003 et 2004, les archéologues grecs ont mis au jour lors de fouilles de sauvetage (terrain Persi) les vestiges d’un petit sanctuaire, consistant en divers restes architecturaux, un autel en pierre, un petit bâtiment à deux chambres, ainsi que cinq puits (ou dépôts votifs) qui contenaient les restes de sacrifices et des vases (cf. ChronARG [2010] 02.23). Une inscription sur la lèvre d’un perirrhantèrion et les informations fournies par les sources écrites permettent d’identifier le site avec le sanctuaire de Déméter Poteriophoros, mais aussi la région avec l’ancienne Antheia, l’une des trois kômai qui constituaient la ville de Patras. Une grande quantité d’objets (plus de 30 000) a été ramassée, dont la plupart sont des vases de petite taille et des figurines, surtout des hydrophores. Aucun temple n’a été trouvé et les fouilleurs pensent qu’il n’existait pas.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 360

M. PETROPOULOS, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 562. M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 99. 115 02.44 – Patras (périphérique) – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2008, des fouilles menées lors des travaux de construction de l’autoroute Corinthe- Patras au lieu-dit Marmara ont livré les vestiges d’un sanctuaire d’époque classique. L’intérieur du bâtiment (6,70 × 4,40 m) a livré deux bases de statue in situ, ainsi qu’un grand nombre de vases en bronze et en terre cuite, des figurines et des objets en bronze. Vers l’E, l’Éphorie poursuit la fouille de plusieurs bâtiments de petites dimensions, qui furent probablement des espaces complémentaires. M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 101– 102.

116 02.45 – Sympoliteia (Gkraikas) (anc. Rhypai) – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2001, l’Éphorie a commencé des fouilles systématiques d’un temple archaïque daté du milieu du VIe s. au lieu-dit Gkraikas, qui appartenait vraisemblablement au territoire de l’ancienne cité de Rhypai (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.29). Situé à 1 130 m d’altitude sur le mont Panachaïko, le temple donne sur la plaine d’Aigion et sur le golfe de Corinthe. Les fouilleurs ont mis au jour la peristasis d’un naos hekatompedos avec krepis à deux degrés. Aucune trace de l’élévation n’a été trouvée, ce qui amène les archéologues à penser que le temple était construit en bois. Une élévation en terre crue est toutefois plus probable. M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 103. 117 02.46 – Ano Mazaraki – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – La fouille, par M. Petropoulos, du temple géométrique d’Artémis Aontia à Ano Mazaraki (cf. ChronARG [2004] 02.13) a livré, outre du matériel d’époque géométrique, une abondante céramique classique et hellénistique, ainsi que de nombreuses figurines en terre cuite des mêmes époques, dont l’A. offre ici une publication détaillée. Rappelons que le temple géométrique n’a été détruit, par un tremblement de terre et un incendie, que dans la première moitié du IVe s. et que le culte s’est du reste prolongé bien au-delà. Outre la présence de céramique attique, attestant le rayonnement du sanctuaire, le matériel cultuel comprenait de petits skyphoi sans anses, des lécythes, des bols, des plats et des canthares hellénistiques, ainsi que de nombreux fragments de lampes. Quant aux offrandes en terre cuite, il s’agit principalement de figurines de femmes et d’animaux (fauves, oiseaux, chiens, béliers), assez communes dans les cultes d’Artémis. La provenance du matériel classique et hellénistique en dehors de l’aire du temple semble par ailleurs indiquer que celui-ci ne fut jamais reconstruit après sa destruction. A. MANIAKI, « Μελέτη της κλασικής και ελληνιστικής κεραμικής από το ιερό της Άρτεμης Αοντίας στη Ρακίτα Αχαΐας », ASAtene 11/1 (2011), p. 187–235. 118 02.47 – Aigion – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2000–2001, des fouilles de sauvetage ont permis la découverte (19 rue Sot. Lontou, terrain Malebiti) d’une chambre creusée dans la roche (4 × 4,5 m et 2,68 m de hauteur). Sa fréquentation est située aux IIe-IIIe s. ap. J.-C. et, d’après sa forme et les trouvailles du site, elle peut être identifiée à un sanctuaire de Mithra (cf. ChronARG [2006] 02.26). M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 100. 119 – Au lieu-dit Trapeza, en 2007, les fouilles ont permis de dégager le pronaos d’un temple de la fin de l’époque archaïque (c. 530–510, cf. ChronARG [2006] 02.27) et une partie de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 361

son sékos à trois nefs : la partie S a livré les traces de la fondation de la colonnade intérieure, ainsi que plusieurs assises du stylobate. La nef centrale est faite d’assises en tuf, basées sur des lingots en plomb. Les autres nefs et le sol du pronaos sont dallés. Dans l’axe du temple, la base de la statue de culte a été découverte, construite en blocs en tuf eux aussi assis sur des lingots en plomb. Le temple semble avoir été dépourvu d’opisthodome ou d’adyton. En 2012, la fouille a permis de révéler, sous le temple tardo-archaïque, une structure d’époque géométrique (4 assises de briques crues posées sur une fondation de pierre), qui constitue probablement un prédécesseur. Des traces de bûcher ont également été mises en évidence, tandis que des rapports antérieurs signalaient la découverte d’offrandes en bronze et de céramique du VIIIe s. sur la colline.

M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο , supra, 02.14, p. 103. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 3564.

120 02.48 – Nikoleika(anc. Helikè) – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Depuis 2004, les archéologues grecs s’attachent au dégagement d’un temple géométrique situé au centre du village de Nikoleika, dans la chôra de l’ancienne cité d’Hélikè. Après les brèves notices parues (cf. ChronARG [2010] 02.25), E. Kolia revient ici en détails sur cette découverte majeure, typologiquement très semblable au temple d’Artémis Aontia à Ano Mazaraki (à l’exception du péristyle, ici absent). Les archéologues présentent un compte rendu des fouilles menées jusqu’en 2009, ainsi qu’une analyse de l’architecture du temple et des pratiques cultuelles attestées à l’emplacement même de celui-ci avant sa construction. Le temple à double abside fut en effet érigé à la fin du VIIIe s. sur une structure antérieure, constituée de 6 assises de briques crues et interprétée comme un autel. En usage dès le second quart du VIIIe s., celui-ci est associé à un sol ayant livré des offrandes (figurines de chevaux, fragments de modèles réduits d’architecture — dont un exemplaire exceptionnel à décor figuré représentant une course de chars fait l’objet d’une publication spécifique par A. Gadolou — bijoux en métal, ainsi que de nombreuses roues provenant de modèles de chariots en terre cuite), des ossements animaux (cuits ou brûlés) et de la céramique de table et de cuisine. L’autel lui-même a été construit sur les traces d’un foyer plus ancien, auquel doivent sans doute être associés des fragments de céramique protogéométrique. Tout cela est le témoin d’une activité cultuelle, impliquant sacrifices et banquets rituels, renvoyant à l’origine du culte, qui peut être située entre 950 et 850. Il est du reste probable qu’un édifice protogéométrique situé à l’extrémité orientale du temple géométrique, à proximité de son entrée, ait été détruit à l’occasion des travaux de terrassement préalables à la construction de celui-ci ; son existence expliquerait en effet la grande quantité de céramique protogéométrique découverte dans ce secteur. Des terres cuites architecturales du milieu du VIe siècle, probablement associées à un successeur archaïque pour l’heure représenté exclusivement par quelques fragments de tambours de colonnes doriques, offrent un terminus ante quem à l’abandon du temple géométrique. Notons enfin la mise au jour, dans deux sondages proches, d’une part des restes probables de l’autel associé au temple géométrique et, d’autre part, d’un autre édifice géométrique à abside ; les archéologues ignorent encore si cette dernière structure appartient au sanctuaire ou à un site d’habitat situé autour du temple. La typologie des offrandes invite à penser que le destinataire du culte entretenait un lien avec les chevaux et des courses de chars. Il pourrait s’agir de Poséidon ; un culte de Poséidon Hélikonios est en effet attesté à Hélikè à travers les sources littéraires.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 362

E. KOLIA, « A Sanctuary of the Geometric Period in Ancient Helike, Achaea », BSA 106 (2011), p. 201–246 ; A. GADOLOU, « A Late Geometric Architectural Model with Figure Decoration from Ancient Helike, Achaea », BSA 106 (2011), p. 247–273. M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000–2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 100. 121 02.49 – MamousiaAigialeias (anc. Keryneia) – VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Depuis 2001, E. Kolia poursuit le dégagement du sanctuaire archaïque et classique situé sur la colline du Prophitis Ilias (cf. ChronARG [2010] 02.26). Les fouilleurs ont mis au jour les fondations de la péristasis d’un grand temple dorique (36,40 × 15,40 m) du VIe s., l’autel et, à faible distance vers l’O, un deuxième temple du IVe s. de plus petites dimensions (13,20 × 8,60 m). Un grand tronçon de mur a également été fouillé, probablement une partie du péribole du sanctuaire. Parmi les découvertes, les fragments de sculptures des frontons du grand temple dorique datent du Ve s. et leur technique ressemble à celle du temple d’Aphaia à Égine. Signalons également parmi le matériel des tuiles en marbre et en terre cuite, des figurines en terre cuite, ainsi que deux vases miniatures et quelques lames en bronze. E. KOLIA, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 533. M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000‑2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο , supra, 02.14, p. 103. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 3927.

122 02.50 – Kalavryta (Gremoulias) –VIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques et Institut archéologique autrichien – De 2005 à 2008, les fouilles sur le col formé entre le Mikros et Megalos Gremoulias à 1 370 m d’altitude ont mis au jour un temple dorique en calcaire (13,90 × 34,75 m) de la fin de l’époque classique (cf. déjà ChronARG [2010] 02.27). M. PETROPOULOS, Z. ASLAMATZIDOU, 2000‑2010. Από το ανασκαφικό έργο, supra, 02.14, p. 104. 123 02.51 – Lousoi – Institut autrichien d’Athènes – Depuis 2001, l’Institut autrichien d’Athènes mène de nouvelles fouilles à Lousoi, où les recherches se poursuivent sur le temple (6 × 15 colonnes, 15,80 × 42,35 m) situé au cœur de la ville (cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.32). Les premières phases remontent à la fin de l’époque archaïque et, d’après les trouvailles, sa fréquentation s’étend jusqu’à l’époque hellénistique. V. Mitsopoulos- Leon publie en détail une amphore rituelle, offrande à Artémis Hémera, qui porte des représentations de purification et de rites. L’objet est comparé à un groupe de céramique d’Achaïe, mais sa production est probablement locale. Chr. Schauer publie, quant à lui, les fragments d’un lagynos de la fin du IVe s. trouvé en 1999 dans le sanctuaire d’Artémis, issu d’un atelier de l’E du Péloponnèse. V. MITSOPOULOS-LEON, G. LADSTÄTTER, AD 56–59, B’4 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 571 et 573. V. MITSOPOULOS-LEON, « Eine Kultamphore aus dem Heiligtum der Artemis Hemera in Lousoi », Peloponnesiaka 30 (2011), p. 147–164. Chr. SCHAUER, « Eine Schwarzgefirnisste Lagynos mit Stempeldekor aus dem Heiligtum der Artemis in Lousoi », Peloponnesiaka 30 (2011), p. 165–176.

124 02.52 – Ano Diakopto (anc. Boura) – VIe Éphorie des antiquités classiques et préhistoriques – Parmi les ruines de la chapelle d’Aghios Athanasios, détruite lors d’un incendie en 2000, les archéologues grecs ont pu mettre en évidence, en 2001, une grande quantité des fragments architecturaux, qui témoignent de l’existence d’un temple antique (pour la poursuite des travaux, cf. ChronARG [2012] 02.31). E. KOLIA, AD 56–59 (2001–2004) [2012], p. 535. Chroniques des fouilles en ligne no 3930.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 363

125 02.53 – Aigeira – Institut archéologique autrichien – Lors de la campagne 2011, les archéologues ont notamment repris l’étude du matériel issu des fouilles des années 1972–1988 dans la zone du théâtre et des temples hellénistiques adjacents en vue d’une publication prochaine. Signalons en particulier les nombreux fragments de peinture murale issus des naiskoi D et E. Si aucun élément figuré n’apparaît, ces fragments de décors architecturaux en trompe-l’œil (oves, méandres, imitation de marbre, etc.) appartenant au « Masonry Style », proche du premier style pompéien, donnent une bonne idée de la décoration des murs de cella à la basse époque hellénistique. W. GAUSS et al., « Aigeira 2011. Bericht über Aufarbeitung und Grabung », JÖAI 81 (2012), p. 33–50.

[03. Béotie, Eubée] 04. Phocide, Locride, Étolie (Michael Fowler)

Phocide

126 04.00 – Asprovryssi Malandrinou –Xe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Les fondations que E. Mastrokostas et L. Lerat avaient proposées comme appartenant au temple d’Athéna Ilias ont été reconsidérées en 2004. Deux blocs contigus ont été dégagés (mesurant 1,0 × 0,9 m et 1,0 × 0,77 m). Ils étaient reliés avec des crampons en forme de Γ. De plus, l’anathyrosis a été observée sur le côté O du bloc O. Ces caractéristiques suggèrent que la structure a été bâtie antérieurement au milieu du Ve s. av. J.-C. Les dimensions hypothétiques de la structure originelle (6,0 × 5,5 m) ressembleraient à celles du premier trésor érigé à l’E du théâtre à Delphes, dont la construction a également employé des crampons en forme de Γ et des blocs de la fondation qui étaient de taille comparable. Bien que le type de structure à laquelle ces blocs appartenaient reste incertain (temple ? monument votif ?), le sondage indique que cette structure a été transformée dans la période romaine pour servir des buts funéraires. AD 56–59 (2001–2004) [2011], Chron. B2, p. 456, avec fig. 84 ; Chronique des fouilles en ligne, no 3778.

127 04.01 – Delphes –Une nouvelle exposition au rez-de-chaussée du musée inclura des objets qui ont jusqu’ici été gardés dans les réserves, y compris ceux de la grotte corycienne sur les pentes du Mont Parnasse. Une sélection d’objets trouvés dans la grotte rendra compte de la fréquentation continuelle de la grotte depuis le Néolithique ainsi que de son utilisation cultuelle. Les objets comprennent des vases et des figurines datant du Néolithique, des morceaux d’obsidienne et de silex non taillés et des outils fabriqués à partir de ces roches, des statuettes de Pan et d’un satyre, des visages de Pan en terre cuite, un fragment d’un aulos en os, des figurines en terre cuite représentant des hommes, des femmes, et une variété d’animaux, des anneaux en bronze et en fer décorés avec de l’imagerie repoussée, des astragaloi inscrits avec les noms des divinités ou des dédicants, des pièces de monnaie, et des « roues » métalliques. E. PARTIDA, A. TSAROUCHA, « Κτερίσματα, οικιστικά κατάλοιπα και ένα λατρευτικό σπήλαιο συνθέτουν το “Μουσείο αρχαίας πόλης Δελφών” », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 1099–1111.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 364

128 – Divers éléments architecturaux ont été rassemblés dans un nouveau dépôt hypèthre dans le sanctuaire afin de faciliter leur étude et reconstruction. Ils appartiennent à différents monuments, comme la colonne triangulaire érigée conjointement par les Naupactiens et les Messéniens (Ve s. av. J.-C.) et un groupe de dédicaces étoliennes du IIIe s. av. J.-C. [L’A. traite de ces derniers monuments dans un autre article sur le dépôt dit « stathmos » : cf. ChronARG (2012) 04.04]. On ne sait toujours pas quel type d’objet était fixé au sommet de la colonne, à cause de la présence de traces multiples sur le socle. E. PARTIDA, « Υπαίθριες εκθέσεις στους Δελφούς: μια προσπάθεια ανασύστασης μνημείων και κοινωνίας της αρχαιότητας », AEThSE3 (2009) [2012], p. 1087–1097. 129 – À défaut de sources textuelles contemporaines, une analyse des artéfacts offerts aux sanctuaires delphiques au VIIes. av. J.-C., surtout ceux de fabrication non grecque, pourrait aider à préciser le développement des sanctuaires à cette époque importante mais moins étudiée. [Pour une étude similaire par l’A. voir ChronARG (2012) 04.04.] H. AURIGNY, « Delphi in the 7th Century: Offerings and Sanctuary », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 1079–1086.

130 – L’A. fournit pour le non-spécialiste une discussion claire de ce qui est connu — et du degré de certitude de cette connaissance — sur l’organisation de l’intérieur du temple d’Apollon au vu des restes archéologiques. En ce qui concerne l’intérieur, les témoignages archéologiques et architecturaux ne permettent de parler que de l’aménagement du temple de la phase la plus récente, qui fut achevée vers 330 av. J.-C. Le naos a été divisé en deux espaces de tailles inégales par une barrière dont la forme, la hauteur, et la perméabilité visuelle ne sont pas certaines. La zone plus petite à l’E (moins de 7,0 m le long de l’axe E-O) était entièrement dallée ; on pouvait y entrer par l’E, à travers le pronaos, ou par les pteromata N et S au moyen de portes sur chaque flanc du naos. On pouvait accéder à la partie O du naos (l’« adyton », ca 18 m le long de l’axe E- O) en passant la barrière. Le sol de cette zone n’était que partiellement dallé : la majorité de l’espace entre les colonnades latérales n’était pas doté d’un dallage. Pourtant, le niveau de la zone non dallée paraît avoir été presque au ras du dallage. Il n’y avait pas d’espace souterrain. Des fouilles au niveau du socle rocheux ont aussi déterminé qu’il n’y avait pas de source d’eau souterraine ou de conduit dans cette zone. G. ROUGEMONT, « L’oracle de Delphes : quelques mises au point», Kernos 26 (2013), p. 45–58.

131 – École française d’Athènes – L’A. évalue les principales tentatives de détermination de la forme et de l’emplacement du monument dit « des Navarques » (base 109) à la lumière des témoignages littéraires et archéologiques disponibles. Une lecture de Pausanias indique que le monument se composait de deux rangs de statues, disposés l’un derrière l’autre ; mais il appartient à l’archéologie de discerner comment et où ces deux rangs de sculptures ont été mis en place dans l’angle SE du temenos. Un examen de près des vestiges architecturaux donne sept nouvelles restitutions hypothétiques du monument. Les deux rangs de statues se situaient soit sur une base unique soit sur des bases séparées et parallèles. Si les deux rangs partageaient vraiment une seule base, le socle du rang arrière aurait été élevé au-dessus du rang de devant, peut-être avec une assise intermédiaire. Parmi ces options, l’A. préfère la restitution des statues sur une base unique, particulièrement celle du plan rectangulaire A ou du plan D (en forme de Π), doté des ailes peu profondes pour l’installation des statues de devant. Selon les plans A et D les statues de devant sont divisées en deux groupes, l’un à chaque bout : Poséidon, Lysandre, et ses collaborateurs les plus proches à l’E et Artémis, Apollon, Zeus, Castor,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 365

et Pollux à l’O. Quant à la topographie du monument dans l’angle SE du péribole, quatre localisations vraisemblables sont proposées. L’A. est en faveur des troisième et quatrième possibilités, selon lesquelles le monument (en forme du plan A ou D) et le portique 108 auraient été construits en même temps et positionnés parallèlement, l’un en face de l’autre, avec leurs centres alignés. J.-F. BOMMELAER, « Delphica 3. Le monument des “Navarques” », BCH 135 (2011), p. 199–235.

132 – École française d’Athènes – Un catalogue d’un petit groupe de lampes corinthiennes (Ier- IIIe s. ap. J.-C.) mises au jour pour la plupart dans des nécropoles, à l’« Agora romaine », et à la « Villa au Sud-Est du Péribole ». Une connexion directe ne peut être établie entre la décoration des lampes et les sanctuaires delphiques. Bien qu’une des lampes (no 17 = Musée archéologique de Delphes no 7887) comporte un buste d’Athéna Promachos sur son disque, elle n’a pas été découverte dans le contexte d’un sanctuaire. En conséquence, une utilisation purement cultuelle des lampes ne peut leur être imputée. P. PÉTRIDIS, « D’un bout du golfe à l’autre : les lampes corinthiennes découvertes à Delphes », BCH 135 (2011), p. 313–349.

133 – Le fameux relief d’Archélaos de Priène est mieux compris comme étant le produit d’un patronage romain datant d’entre le milieu et le troisième quart du Ier s. av. J.-C., où la topographie mythique et sacrée de la Grèce avait été appropriée, recréée avec imagination, et transformée par et pour les Romains, non seulement dans la littérature (e.g., la sixième égloguede Virgile, Properce) et dans l’art (e.g., les paysages odysséens, les premières Tabulae Iliacae), mais aussi au moyen de dédicaces monumentales dans des sanctuaires. Après avoir considéré le culte des Muses au sanctuaire d’Apollon à Delphes (où les déesses figurent sur le fronton E du temple du dieu du IVe s.) et au Mouséion à l’Hélicon dans l’époque hellénistique, l’A. mène une analyse formelle détaillée du relief. Elle affirme que la scène dans la partie supérieure évoque l’espace de ces deux sanctuaires de montagne. Cet amalgame spatial est considéré au vu de l’habitude romaine de syncrétiser des traditions distinctes. Le relief combine même cette imagerie hésiodique de la montagne comme lieu de prédilection pour les Muses à une procession sacrificielle vers Homère, assis et déifié, se déroulant dans le registre inférieur. Analysée dans ce contexte intellectuel, la scène dans le relief représente les Monts Parnasse et Hélicon comme des endroits où les écrivains hellénistiques et romains pouvaient communier avec les personnages célèbres dans la généalogie littéraire et avec leurs sources divines d’inspiration. La scène reflète donc l’importance acquise par ces sites comme des mines d’inspiration artistique et de génie créatif. B.A. ROBINSON, « On the Rocks: Greek Mountains and Sacred Conversations », in D. RAGAVAN (éd.), Heaven on earth: Temples, ritual, and cosmic symbolism in the ancient world, Chicago, 2013, p. 175–199.

134 04.02 – Distomo (Ambrossos), terrain L. Sphountouris – Xe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – En 2001, une fouille de sauvetage menée dans le voisinage E du musée a mis au jour un « péribole double » de l’ère classique, qui entourait probablement un enclos sacré. Le mur N semble avoir servi de soutènement. La zone du mur S a livré une diversité d’objets, parmi lesquels des tuiles, de petites pernettes tripodes, la base d’une amphore à fond pointu, des morceaux en métal oxydé, et de grands poids de métier à tisser. Ces trouvailles suggèrent que l’espace interstitiel entre les murs était un lieu de stockage pour des instruments de culte. Le temenos pouvait

Kernos, 27 | 2014 366

avoir appartenu à Athéna ou à Artémis, dont les cultes sont attestés dans l’ancienne Ambrossos. AD 56–59 (2001–2004) [2011], Chron. B2, p. 440, avec fig. 60 ; Chronique des fouilles en ligne, no 3752.

135 04.03 – Tithoréa, Sérapéion – En 2000, la fouille des soubassements de l’église post- byzantine d’Agios Ioannis Théologos, située au cœur du village moderne de Tithoréa, a découvert des blocs en marbre qui avaient été spoliés pour revêtir le sol de la phase la plus ancienne du bâtiment (ca milieu du Ve s. ap. J.-C.). Deux des blocs (A et B ; actuellement au dépôt archéologique de Tithoréa, respectivement nos Λ195 and Λ194) étaient à l’origine des orthostates opisthographes inscrits avec quatre actes d’affranchissement par vente à Sérapis (datés du règne de Trajan). Deux autres blocs en marbre portant une liste de noms (de l’époque protobyzantine) et des décorations antiques en bas relief, incluant un serpent barbu s’enroulant en boucles successives (C and D ; aussi au dépôt archéologique de Tithoréa, no Λ198), furent remployés comme des soubassements pour les pieds d’un autel. Une inspection de près de la forme, de la surface, des dimensions, et de la décoration de ces quatre blocs conduit les A. à conclure que les blocs A et B servaient de trapezophoroi appartenant à la même table d’offrandes, qui a, par la suite, été inscrite. Les blocs C et D constituaient un seul appui latéral pour une table qui avait été coupée en deux afin de réutiliser la pierre. Il y avait donc des parties d’au moins deux tables différentes remployées dans l’église, bien que la position asymétrique des mortaises sur la surface supérieure du côté principal des blocs A et B pourrait augmenter le nombre de tables à trois. L’un des actes d’affranchissement sur le bloc A constate ouvertement qu’il se situait ἐν ἱερῷ τῷ Σεραπείῳ. Quand ceci est considéré conjointement avec les fragments d’une base en marbre d’une statue qui avait été observés pendant les années 1960 dans la cour d’une maison près de l’église et qui comportent aussi un acte d’affranchissement faisant allusion au Sérapéion (IG IX,1 193), les A. proposent que le sanctuaire de Sérapis pouvait s’être trouvé au site actuel de l’église ou dans son voisinage immédiat. Toutefois, on ne peut exclure la possibilité que les blocs aient été apportés d’un lieu plus éloigné. Si le Sérapéion doit être localisé dans la cité de Tithoréa, il serait un sanctuaire distinct d’un autre consacré à Isis, qui selon Pausanias (10, 32, 13–18) était extra-urbain. Quant à l’orthostate composé des blocs C et D, aucune inscription ancienne ne permet une restitution de son origine. Cependant, le serpent barbu sculpté en relief sur le côté intérieur de la table pourrait suggérer que cet objet était associé au culte de Zeus Méilichios, qui était pratiqué dans des cités béotiennes voisines et peut-être à Élatée. Mais l’existence d’un tel culte est loin d’être assurée, surtout parce que cette iconographie n’est pas unique à ce dieu. Étant donné les fortes preuves épigraphiques d’un culte de Sérapis à Tithoréa et la découverte des trois trapezophoroi dans le même endroit, une identification du serpent à Sérapis semble plus plausible. Si les deux tables se situaient dans le Sérapéion, la table plus haute (des blocs C et D) aurait pu être construite après que la plus petite fut inscrite — si on admet que le libellé d’un des actes d’affranchissement fait allusion au nombre de tables dans le sanctuaire à l’époque où elle fut inscrite (selon la restitution des A. : ἐν τᾷ βάσει τᾶς τρα[πέζας]). D. ROUSSET, G. ZACHOS, « Aus der Arbeit der “Inscriptiones Graecae”. Nouveaux monuments inscrits de Tithoréa en Phocide », Chiron 42 (2012), p. 459–508.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 367

Locride

136 04.04 – Aghios Konstantinos (Daphnous), Asclépiéion –XIVe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Rapport préliminaire sur la fouille de sauvetage et le transfert d’un complexe rectangulaire (identifié comme un Asclépiéion au vu des trouvailles artéfactuelles) qui ont été effectués entre les années 2005 et 2007 lors de la construction de la nouvelle route nationale. Le complexe se compose de deux structures (Bâtiment A et Bâtiment B), situées respectivement aux côtés O et SE, et d’une aire dotée d’un autel au NE. [Les découvertes principales ont été présentées dans ChronARG (2013) 04.09.] L’A. propose une chronologie du développement du site et offre plus de détails sur le naïskos, l’autel, et l’eschara. La plus ancienne phase du sanctuaire (de la fin du VIe s. av. J.-C.) semble avoir été un espace hypèthre avec un bothros. Probablement érigé après le milieu du Ve s. av. J.-C., le Bâtiment B (se composant d’un loutron, d’un abaton, et d’un enkoimétérion) est resté en utilisation jusqu’à l’abandon du sanctuaire vers la fin du IIe s. et du début du Ier s. av. J.-C. Le Bâtiment A (15,0 × 15,0 m ; katagogéion) a été construit à la fin du IVe s. av. J.-C. ou plus tard ; son entrée se situait probablement du côté E. Les maigres trouvailles recueillies dans le bâtiment suggèrent qu’il fut abandonné avant sa destruction. À la période hellénistique un naïskos in antis avec un naos et pronaos (3,0 × 3,0 m) a été bâti contre le mur NE du Bâtiment A. Une construction basse en forme de Γ posée contre le mur O du naos fonctionnait probablement comme la base de la statue de culte d’Asclépios. Les murets bloquant l’entrée du naïskos auraient pu être construits pendant l’abandon du sanctuaire ou avant sa destruction pour tenter de préserver la sacralité de l’espace. Un assemblage de statuettes en marbre a été trouvé au milieu de la couche de destruction ; y compris deux garçons nus chacun tenant un lièvre, une jeune fille, ainsi que deux pièces de monnaie phociennes (IIe s. av. J.-C.), ce qui fournit un terminus post quem pour la destruction du bâtiment. Quatre bases en pierre d’offrandes votives ont été découvertes à l’extérieur du naïskos avec d’autres pièces des rois macédoniens, de Démétrios Poliorkètes, d’Étolie, de Sicyone, de Chalcis, de Thespies, de Phocide, et de Locride, ce qui manifeste la portée géographique du sanctuaire. La base monumentale en poros de l’autel est conservée à l’E du naïskos ; des fragments de ses trépieds ont été dispersés dans tout le sanctuaire. Une fosse au cœur de la partie O de l’autel atteint une profondeur de 1,8 m. Les chercheurs l’interprètent comme un bothros appartenant peut-être à la phase hypèthre initiale du sanctuaire. La fosse a livré des fragments d’une stèle en marbre inscrite avec une liste de noms, des morceaux de tuiles, et un kotyliskos. Des fragments supplémentaires de la stèle ont été trouvés (avec d’autres artéfacts et des restes sacrificiels) dans deux des trois fosses peu profondes qui ont été mises au jour entre l’autel et le naïskos. Une eschara rectangulaire et de nombreux objets ont été découverts au SO de l’autel, sous un tas de pierres portant des traces de combustion. Un grand bothros (presque 4,0 m de profondeur) a été mis au jour entre l’autel et la chambre centrale du Bâtiment B. Cette fosse contenait une profusion d’offrandes votives et de restes sacrificiels (par exemple des vases, une partie d’une figurine en terre cuite dorée, des objets métalliques, des tessons inscrits, et des os animaux). M.-Ph. PAPAKONSTANTINOU, « Το Ασκληπιείο του Δαφνούντος. Πρώτη παρουσίαση », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 1235–1247.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 368

137 04.05 – Mitrou –XIVe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – American School – Université du Tennessee – Parmi la céramique retrouvée sur le site entre 2004 et 2008, trois assemblages importants de vases à boire liés aux banquets ont été reconnus. Ces assemblages proviennent de trois tranchées différentes et appartiennent à trois phases différentes du site : la Tranchée LF790 dans le secteur NO du site (l’HR IIA, où l’importation des vases à décor lustré mycéniens et des poteries éginètes constitue maintenant la majorité de la céramique décorée) ; la Tranchée LL784–785 dans le secteur NE du site, où une grosse quantité de coquilles de sources alimentaires rares et de formes de vases peu communes, telles que des vases miniatures pour verser des liquides ou boire et une kylix à trois anses, a été mise au jour (l’HR IIIA2, où des gobelets phociens commencent à être importés et où même la céramique locale reflète des types mycéniens) ; et la Tranchée LP782, une décharge située au SE du Bâtiment D, qui a livré, parmi d’autres découvertes caractéristiques de l’HR IIIB2, des bols profonds à rosette. Le bol profond à rosette n’est pas commun au-delà de l’Argolide ou des palais, ce qui pourrait suggérer — avec la découverte de cinq tuiles de toit indiquant la présence d’au moins un édifice important — qu’avant l’HR IIIB2, Mitrou relevait d’un centre palatial voisin. Les vases mycéniens auraient pu être acquis initialement par des élites comme symboles de prestige pour une utilisation lors des fêtes communales, et auraient progressivement dominé la céramique alors que les élites adoptaient des éléments de la culture mycénienne. S. VITALE, « Local Traditions and Mycenaeanization in Central Greece. A Preliminary Report on the Late Helladic IIA to the Late Helladic IIIB Pottery from Mitrou, East Lokris », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 1147–1158.

Étolie

138 04.06 – Kalydon –XXXVIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Institut danois d’Athènes – La deuxième campagne de fouille archéologique du théâtre ancien se concentrait en partie sur la détermination de l’étendue du côté O du koilon. Pendant ce processus, plus de rangs ont été mis au jour à l’angle NO. Les rangs s’étendent sur une distance jusqu’ici inconnue. Le koilon pourrait avoir rempli une fonction double : fournir des assises et donner accès au sanctuaire perché au-dessus du théâtre. Chronique des fouilles en ligne, no 2970.

05. Acarnanie, Épire, Illyrie méridionale, îles ioniennes (François Quantin)

139 05.01 – Marion Dufeu-Muller, Stéphanie Huysecom-Haxhi et Arthur Muller ont organisé en 2010 à Athènes un colloque dont l’objectif était à la fois de publier des données sur l’Artémision d’Épidamne et de faire le point sur le culte de la déesse en Grèce nord-occidentale, en Illyrie méridionale et en Grande Grèce, avec une attention particulière portée aux figurines en terre cuite. Les contributions à ce colloque sont évoquées ici selon leur pertinence géographique. M. DUFEU-MULLER, S. HUYSECOM-HAXHI et A. MULLER (éd.), « Artémis à Épidamne-Dyrrhachion. Une mise en perspective », Actes de la table-ronde internationale d’Athènes (19–20 novembre 2010), BCH 134–2 (2010) [2012], p. 383–489.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 369

140 05.02 – Rapport succinct et synthétique sur le culte d’Artémis en Épire et en Illyrie méridionale et ses intérêts méthodologiques et historiographiques. Dans les panthéons coloniaux Artémis est chasseresse, salvatrice et courotrophe, et seconde son frère Apollon. La déesse est très bien implantée en Chaonie, où sa présence est peut-être due à la proximité de Corcyre, mais dans les autres régions épirotes Artémis est présente mais discrète et n’appartient semble-t-il pas au panthéon de Dodone. Elle ne paraît pas être seulement la divinité de l’« extérieur » car elle loge aussi dans le centre des villes. La documentation ne permet plus de défendre l’existence d’une Artémis originellement illyrienne ou épirote. La déesse est très présente dans les colonies du littoral et l’implantation et la personnalité régionales d’Artémis sont assurément fondées sur l’histoire coloniale d’origine corinthienne, et sur une dimension continentale, épirote, dont les recherches les plus récentes permettent de mieux cerner les articulations, en particulier en Chaonie. Elle n’est pas colonisatrice comme peuvent l’être Apollon ou Héraklès, ni métropolitaine, comme l’Artémis phocéenne, mais proprement coloniale ou « diasporique ». F. QUANTIN, « Artémis en Épire, en Illyrie méridionale et dans les colonies Nord- occidentales », ibid., p. 432–440.

141 05.03 – Cette étude de cas parvient aux conclusions suivantes : dans le domaine colonial corinthien Artémis est salvatrice et déesse de la communauté, terme qui est plus approprié que celui de « politique », et elle est profondément coloniale sans être métropolitaine. Elle est donc une bonne illustration de l’impact de la colonisation sur la vie religieuse grecque. Au VIIIe siècle comme au VIIe siècle, sous obédience bacchiade ou kypsélide, elle part bien entendu avec les colons corinthiens, puisqu’elle appartient très tôt au panthéon « panhellénique », sans être néanmoins une divinité recognitive de l’identité corinthienne. L’hypothèse proposée est la suivante : Artémis n’étant pas profondément corinthienne (cf. maintenant R. DUBBINI, Dei nello spazio degli uomini. I culti dell’agora e la costruzione di Corinto arcaica, Roma, 2011 [Supplementi e monografie della rivista Archeologia classica 7, n.s. 4]), elle devient plus aisément une divinité coloniale, capable de protéger la communauté contre la stasis et l’hostilité des « indigènes », dressée au centre de la cité comme à l’articulation topographique entre l’espace urbain et le territoire. F. QUANTIN, « Contribution à l’histoire religieuse des colonies corinthiennes occidentales. Le problème du transfert des cultes métropolitains vers les cités coloniales », in G. DE SENSI SESTITO, M. INTRIERI (éd.), Sulla rotta par la Sicilia : l’Epiro, Corcira e l’Occidente, Actes du colloque international de Cosenza (5–7 mai 2010, PRIN « La ‘terza’ Grecia e l’Occident »), Pisa, 2011 (Diabaseis, 2), p. 209–232.

Acarnanie

142 05.04 – Nouvelle lecture par l’A. d’une inscription du IIe s. av. J.-C. qui se révèle être la dédicace à Artémis d’une association cultuelle. La pierre provient d’une voie conduisant au sanctuaire de la déesse à Paléros, dont le culte est maintenant bien attesté aux côtés de ceux de Zeus et d’Athéna. L’association est composée d’hommes, un ἱερεύς et huit συνιερεῖς. [Ce dernier terme confirme la prédilection régionale pour les mots à préfixe syn- mise en valeur par Claudia ANTONETTI, « I diversi aspetti di una koine socio- culturale », dans le même recueil de textes, p. 315–316].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 370

D. SUMMA, « Una nuova lista cultuale per Artemide », in Cl. ANTONETTI (éd.), Lo spazio ionico e le communità della Grecia nord-occidentale. Territorio, società, istituzioni, Atti del convegno internazionale di Venezia (7–9 gennaio 2010), Pisa, 2010, p. 385–393.

Épire

143 05.05 – Lorenzo Mancini publie ici les conclusions de sa tesi di Laurea et ses premières réflexions doctorales rédigées dans le cadre d’un mémoire en cours dirigé par Sandro De Maria à l’Université de Bologne portant sur les espaces cultuels en Épire et en Illyrie méridionale aux époques classique et hellénistique. Il constate après d’autres auteurs la prévalence du modèle architectural du petit temple non périptère en Épire hellénistique (fig. 2 et 3), observe que des travaux récents attribuent à certains de ces édifices à Bouthrôtos (M. MELFI, « The sanctuary of Asclepius », in I.L. HANSEN, R. HODGES [éd.], Roman Butrint. An Assessment, Oxford, 2007, p. 17–32 ; « Butrinto : da santuario di Asclepio a centro federale », in G. DE MARINIS, G.M. FABRINI, G. PACI, R. PERNA, M. SILVESTRINI [éd.],I processi formativi ed evolutivi della città in area adriatica, Oxford, 2012 [BAR International Series, 2419], p. 23–31) et à Dodone (F. QUANTIN, « Recherches sur l’histoire et l’archéologie du sanctuaire de Dodone. Les oikoi, Zeus Naios et les Naia », Kernos, 21 [2008], p. 9–48) des fonctions dites utilitaires de stockage des offrandes. À Dodone, l’A. estime que les naïskoi ne peuvent pas être des thesauroi pour contenir les offrandes car ce type d’édifice n’est plus construit à Olympie depuis le Ve s. et à Delphes depuis le milieu de la seconde moitié du IVe s. av. J.-C., or les exemplaires dodonéens datent sans doute du IIIe s. À Bouthrôtos, l’A. défend l’attribution du temple de la terrasse supérieure à Asklépios, et concède à M. Melfi que l’édifice naomorphe inférieur, plus ancien, a pu être « déclassé » lors de la construction du théâtre et du nouveau temple d’Asklépios sur la terrasse et utilisé alors comme un trésor. L.M. privilégie pour expliquer l’uniformité des édifices naomorphes épirotes, sans doute avec raison, un héritage géométrique en se fondant sur les travaux d’A. Mazarachis-Ainian, ce qui revient à s’interroger sur les rapports entre les élites de l’âge du Fer et les pratiques cultuelles en Grèce nord-occidentale, thème de recherche passionnant mais difficile et mal documenté. [Cette recherche prometteuse appelle quelques remarques pour être parfaitement novatrice. L’immense majorité des temples grecs de l’époque archaïque à la période hellénistique, en dehors des grandes et puissantes cités, sont « non- périptères » : ils doivent de ce point de vue être considérés comme normaux. D’autre part l’expression « temple-trésor » forgée par Georges Roux et exploitée à juste titre par l’A. reste une formulation d’archéologue qui est ici explicitement associée au temple, alors que dans l’esprit du savant le « temple-trésor » n’a pas de dimension cultuelle. Les arguments chronologiques avancés pour retirer à l’hypothèse de trésors à Dodone sa consistance sont très affaiblis par le fait que l’architecture de pierre, comme le note L.M. lui-même, est elle-même tardive dans le sanctuaire. L’important est me semble-t-il de ne pas opposer — ou prêter à des archéologues — une interprétation privilégiant génériquement l’identification de temples et une autre préférant celle de thesauroi, car cette présentation dichotomique du débat scientifique contraint pratiquement, comme le fait l’A., à choisir un compromis notionnel et tout aussi généralisateur, le « temple-trésor » qui serait l’unique ou la principale clef du problème. Le raisonnement que j’ai tenu concerne Dodone, un sanctuaire panhellénique qui échappe en partie à la sphère locale, et celui de M. Melfi est fondé sur la topographie cultuelle de Bouthrôtos. Il faut tenir compte dans ce beau dossier des

Kernos, 27 | 2014 371

exceptions et des nuances et aborder aussi l’hypothèse d’une colonnade périphérique à Rhodotopi, le périptère de Kassopé et le temple amphiprostyle d’Amantia.] L. MANCINI, « Templi, thesauroi, “temples-trésors”. Note sull’edilizia templare non periptera nei santuari dell’Epiro ellenistico », Ocnus 21 (2013), p. 75–99.

144 05.06 – Thesprôtie – Les A. signalent des vestiges votifs ou cultuels parfois inédits : un moule de figurine en terre cuite d’Hermès découvert à Gitana, et une représentation du vol par le dieu des troupeaux d’Apollon ; un petit bâtiment rectangulaire situé sur une terrasse dominant la ville basse d’Éléa est interprété comme un temple composé de trois pièces, le pronaos, le naos — où les traces d’une petite construction correspondent sans doute à la base d’une statue de culte plutôt qu’à celle d’un « ground altar for offerings » — et un « adyton » ; le temple de Gitana et les vestiges cultuels que Kalliopi Preka-Alexandri a fait connaître [cf. aussi au sujet de la divinité l’article de P. CABANES, « Une grand-mère consacre son petit-fils à Parthénos Thémis au pays des Kammanoi », in F. RAVIOLA, M. BASSANI, A. DEBIASI, E. PASTORIO (éd.), L’indagine e la rima. Scritti per Lorenzo Braccesi, vol. 1, Roma (Hesperìa, 30), 2013, p. 309–315] ; deux lieux de culte sont identifiés à Dymokastro : l’un est situé dans la « citadel A » et il est composé de deux petits bâtiments naomorphes voisins et implantés selon le même axe, et qui sont associés à une construction rectangulaire qui est vraisemblablement un autel ; l’autre, dans la « citadel B », est aussi un édifice composé de trois pièces et la fouille a permis de récupérer un riche matériel composé de figurines en terre cuite, de moules de statuette, de fragments de modèles réduits de temples, de reliefs en pierre et de vases de métal. K. LAZARI, E. KANTA-KITSOU, « Thesprotia during the Late Classic and Hellenistic Periods. The Formation and Evolution of the Cities », in Cl. ANTONETTI (éd.), supra, 05.04, p. 35–60.

145 05.07 – Molossie – Présentation des cultes molosses aux divinités féminines, avec en particulier la très vraisemblable présence d’Artémis dans le sanctuaire de Rhodotopi, qu’il faut cesser d’identifier au lieu de culte consacré à Zeus Aréios mentionné par Plutarque dans la Vie de Pyrrhos. L’A. considère que le culte d’Artémis devient très important à partir de l’époque hellénistique. G. PLIAKOU, « Sanctuaires de divinités féminines et culte d’Artémis en Épire centrale », in DUFEU-MULLER, HUYSECOM-HAXHI, MULLER (éd.), supra, 05.01, p. 414–419.

Illyrie méridionale

146 05.08 – Présentation des sanctuaires d’Illyrie méridionale — à l’exception d’Apollonia — attestés par l’archéologie, dont voici liste : – Épidamne-Dyrrhachion. L’Artémision de Dautë (cf. 05.12). Le sanctuaire de Këneta, situé au sud-ouest de la ville, est équipé d’un autel monumental d’époque classique, d’un vraisemblable monument votif constitué de deux colonnes doriques appariées sur une krepis commune ; des bâtiments aux environs pourraient être des salles de banquet, et l’ensemble du sanctuaire est peut-être consacré à Déméter. Du sanctuaire archaïque de Spitallë est connu un temple et en particulier sa décoration architecturale en terre cuite. – Zgërdhesh. Près de ce village situé dans la région de Kruja, une ville antique est connue depuis les travaux de Selim Islami dans les années 1960. Le mobilier montre que ce site appartenait à la sphère d’influence d’Épidamne-Dyrrhachion. Des vestiges situés

Kernos, 27 | 2014 372

sur une colline au sud de la ville sont attribués à un temple documenté par ses terres cuites architecturales. Parmi les figurines les représentations féminines sont majoritaires. – Amantia. Un temple est attribué par hypothèse à Aphrodite Pandémos, et des découvertes récentes confirment que l’édifice est consacré à une déesse. – Gradishtë, au nord de la ville de Korça. Des vestiges architecturaux et votifs ont conduit à formuler l’hypothèse d’un sanctuaire d’Aphrodite. – Belsh, rive orientale du lac de Seferan. Découverte toujours inédite de quatre concentrations de figurines — femmes, dont de très nombreuses protomés, et banqueteurs — et de vases votifs — vases à parfum et formes miniatures — sur les rives d’un lac. La divinité honorée là pourrait être Aphrodite (N. Ceka) ou bien Artémis (B. Muka). B. MUKA, « Sanctuaires et mobilier votif en Illyrie méridionale », in DUFEU-MULLER, HUYSECOM-HAXHI, MULLER (éd.), supra, 05.01, p. 425–431.

147 05.09 – La recherche en sciences humaines planifiée par les dirigeants de la République populaire d’Albanie avait entre autres objectifs la fondation d’une identité nationale laïque puis athée. Dans le domaine des études sur les pratiques cultuelles et les idées religieuses antiques on observe une sélection des objets d’étude et un infléchissement des résultats scientifiques. La vie religieuse antique est conçue comme un frein à l’accomplissement historique de l’Homme et comme un naturalisme primitif proche d’une sorte de curiosité pré-scientifique originelle et pragmatique. On restitue alors un folklore féérique, qui a une dimension populaire, littéraire, orale, héroïque, homérique. On assiste aujourd’hui à un renouveau des études sur les cultes antiques dans ces régions, encouragé par les équipes internationales accueillies en Albanie, et fondé aussi sur la continuité des recherches archéologiques albanaises libérées des contraintes idéologiques de l’ancien régime. Une histoire religieuse de ces régions devient possible, grâce à l’archéologie. F. QUANTIN, « Archéologie cultuelle et histoire des religions antiques en Albanie », Kernos 24 (2011), p. 183–204.

148 05.10 – Apollonia – Sanctuaire de Bonjakët – L’activité cultuelle commence dans ce sanctuaire périurbain d’Apollonia d’Illyrie à la fin du VIIe s. av. J.-C. La fouille a permis de récupérer 2500 fragments de figurines en terre cuite dont le contexte stratigraphique est bien conservé. Il n’a pas été possible de fouiller le site en extension mais un certain nombre de faits paraissent acquis : le culte commence dès la fondation de la colonie, mais rien ne montre qu’il hérite son caractère sacré d’un sanctuaire indigène antérieur ; un temple en pierre est construit vers 500 av. J.-C. ; il paraît être détruit au IVe s. mais l’activité cultuelle est attestée jusqu’au IIe s. av. J.-C. ; à l’époque romaine une maison est construite sur les ruines du sanctuaire, et elle est abandonnée au IIe s. ap. J.-C. pour être remplacée par une nécropole. La plupart des figurines en terre cuite datent des époques classique et hellénistique. Le type iconographique le plus commun est composé d’un homme et d’une femme allongés sur une klinè, tenant le plus souvent une phiale dans la main droite. Les figurines archaïques sont moins nombreuses mais plus diversifiées. Les A. considèrent que ce sanctuaire, comme celui de Shtyllas au sud, constitue une limite du territoire de la cité. S.R. STOCKER, J.L. DAVIS, I. POJANI, V. DIMO, « Terracotta Figurines and the History of Cult at the Bonjakët Hamlet near Illyrian Apollonia », in DUFEU-MULLER, HUYSECOM-HAXHI, MULLER (éd.), supra, 05.01, p. 419–424.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 373

149 – Présentation et analyse d’une série iconographique dont l’unité est certaine et dont les exemplaires sont nombreux à Apollonia et sur des sites illyriens hellénisés d’Illyrie méridionale : un personnage masculin en position frontale qui porte une corne d’abondance à sa gauche, et tient parfois un canthare de la main droite. Dans certains exemplaires le dieu est accompagné d’une ou de plusieurs personnages féminins en chitôn long et himation. Le dieu est barbu, bien en chair, accroupi, exhibant son organe génital sous un ventre rebondi. Aucune identification précise ne s’impose absolument pour ce personnage. Il est vrai qu’il fait penser à l’Égyptien Bès, en particulier sur un relief découvert dans les fouilles conduites par Jean-Luc Lamboley et Altin Skenderaj dans un quartier d’Apollonia situé près du monastère Sainte-Marie. Le dieu pourrait être ici associé à Isis et Osiris, et le dépôt du relief dans un grand collecteur d’eau paraît correspondre à un rite d’abandon. Mais le dieu ne porte pas ici son habituel couvre-chef à plumes, et Bès est le plus souvent représenté debout, et, surtout, n’est pas associé à la corne d’abondance. La présence du canthare et la position du personnage permettent aussi de proposer le nom de Silène, avec qui Bès fut rapproché par les Anciens. Ce petit dieu trouve de proches parallèles iconographiques en Italie du Sud, en particulier à Tarente et à Métaponte, et ne saurait donc être une divinité « autochthone ». F. QUANTIN, avec la collaboration d’A. DIMO, « Nga Amantia në Apolloni : kërkime mbi një hyjni të Ilirisë antike (D’Amantia à Apollonia : enquête sur une divinité dans le sud de l’Illyrie antique) », Iliria 35 (2011), p. 123–153 ; J.-L. LAMBOLEY, « Rites d’abandon à Apollonia d’Illyrie ? », in R. BAUDRY, S. DESTEPHEN (éd.), La société romaine et ses élites. Hommages à Élizabeth Deniaux, Paris, 2012, p. 309–324.

150 – Réinterprétation du groupe statuaire offert par les Apolloniates au Ve s. av. J.-C. à Olympie grâce au butin issu d’une guerre contre les habitants de Thronion en Illyrie méridionale. Sur une base semi-circulaire sont disposées et opposées les statues des personnages suivants : aux extrémités de la base, Achille et Memnon, puis Ulysse et Hélénos, Ménélas et Alexandre, Diomède et Énée et face à Ajax, Deiphobos. L’A. part des travaux de Claudia Antonetti (« Tra storia ed epos. Il donario degli Apolloniati a Olimpia (Paus. 5.22.2–4) », in E. CINGANO (éd.), Tra panellenismo e tradizioni locali. Generi poetici e storiografia, Alessandria, 2010, p. 433–450) qui privilégie une compréhension régionale de la bipolarité grecque et troyenne du monument, et propose une inflexion vers une interprétation de cette bipolarité grâce à la double composante corinthienne et corcyréenne des origines de la communauté des Apolloniates. J. PICCININI, « Ἀντιτεταγμένοι: sul monumento degli Apoloniati a Olimpia », ASAA, 89, serie III, 11–1 (2011) [2013], p. 237–250.

151 – La découverte dans la fouille du théâtre d’Apollonia d’un élément de couronnement d’ aguieus est importante car les autres exemplaires de piliers d’Apollon découverts dans la ville (cf. ChronARG [2011] 05.06 et É. FOLLAIN, « Apollonia d’Illyrie. Nouvelles recherches », Archéologia, mars 2011, 486, p. 36–49) n’ont pas conservé cette assise, qui est ici comparée aux représentations iconographiques du monument. M. FIEDLER, S. FRANZ, S. GJONGECAJ, H. VON HESBERG, V. HINZ, B. LAHI, S.-P. PÁNCZÉL, F. QUANTIN, E. SHEHI, B. SHKODRA-RRUGIA, « Neue Forschungen zum hellenistisch-römischen Theater von Apollonia (Albanien) », Römische Mitteilungen 117 (2011), p. 55–200, en particulier p. 180–185.

152 05.11 – Treport – Inscriptions d’Aulôn, Amantia, Orikos, Triport, parmi lesquelles des inédites, et réflexions de géographie historique. Le no 35 correspond à une estampille

Kernos, 27 | 2014 374

sur tuile plate découverte à Triport (V. BERETI, « Gërmime në Triport » (Fouilles à Triport), Iliria 7–8 [1977–1978], p. 286 (sans illustration) ; SEG XXXII [1982], 621) : ΑΘΑΝΑC . Il faut très vraisemblablement lire Ἀθάνας, génitif du nom dorien de la déesse Ἀθάνα. Nous aurions ici la première attestation de l’existence d’un temple d’Athéna à Treport. V. BERETI, F. QUANTIN, P. CABANES, « Histoire et épigraphie dans la région de Vlora (Albanie) », REA 113–1 (2011), p. 7–46.

153 05.12 – Épidamne-Dyrrhachion –La reprise depuis 2003 de l’étude d’une quantité considérable de figurines en terre cuite et d’autres catégories d’objets votifs provenant assurément d’un sanctuaire touche à sa fin et permet d’établir de nombreuses données votives. Le sanctuaire est un Artémision et correspond à celui que mentionne Appien, II, 60. Il protège un accès à la ville. Les figurines en terre cuite les plus anciennes datent de la fin VIe ou du début du Ve s. et elles sont offertes jusqu’au Ier s. av. J.-C., période qui correspond à l’abandon du sanctuaire comme le montrent aussi l’étude des monnaies (555 monnaies hellénistiques et 12 d’époque romaine). Les modèles et souvent les prototypes viennent d’Attique, de Corinthe, d’Italie méridionale et de Sicile. Le répertoire est féminin et essentiellement composé par plus de 5000 protomés, qu’il faut considérer comme des représentations abrégées. Parmi les 350 statuettes, une trentaine seulement sont des divinités aisément identifiables, parmi lesquelles les Artémis sont les plus nombreuses ; les autres sont les représentations des femmes et des hommes qui viennent honorer la déesse. Parmi le mobilier céramique, on observe une forte concentration aux IVe/IIIe s. av. J.-C. de lécythes à figures rouges, de très nombreuses coupes miniatures, de vases à vernis noir, de bols à reliefs et d’assiettes. Les modèles principaux de ces productions locales sont corinthiens et apuliens. On compte aussi de nombreux skyphoi dont les exemplaires peints de dédicaces à Artémis et à Hékate. De la céramique culinaire et des amphores de transport confirment la pratique du banquet dans l’Artémision. Parmi les offrandes on trouve aussi des monnaies de bronze, le plus souvent locales, une dédicace à Artémis Sôteira, épiclèse connue aussi à Apollonia, des fragments de statuettes en pierre calcaire d’Artémis et de nombreux objets de parure en bronze. La piété envers Artémis paraît être motivée par les précautions religieuses qui entourent le passage d’un statut à un autre, des femmes en particulier. La fréquentation masculine est faiblement documentée par l’iconographie votive. Les A. font alors l’hypothèse que les vestiges de banquets, en particulier les vases à boire et les assiettes, pourraient signaler la fréquentation masculine et éphébique du sanctuaire, qui serait alors équivalente quantitativement et qualitativement à celle des femmes. A. MULLER, F. TARTARI, I. TOÇI, « D’Aphrodite à Artémis. La recherche sur le sanctuaire de la colline de Dautë à Durrës », in DUFEU-MULLER, HUYSECOM-HAXHI, MULLER (éd.), supra, 05.01, p. 385–388 ; St. HUYSECOM-HAXHI, B. MUKA , « Les terres cuites votives : analyse du répertoire », ibid., p. 388–391 ; E. SHEHI, A. TICHIT, « Les vases », ibid., p. 391–393 ; S. GJONGECAJ, « Les monnaies », ibid., p. 393–396 ; M. DUFEU-MULLER, « Autres offrandes », ibid., p. 396–398 ; Collectif, « Du mobilier à la sphère d’activité d’Artémis à Épidamne- Dyrrhachion », ibid., p. 398–400 ; M. MULLER-DUFEU, E. SHEHI, « Skyphoi avec dédicaces peintes de l’Artémision d’Épidamne-Dyrrhachion », BCH 133 (2009), p. 99–112 ; B. MUKA, A. MULLER, « Epidamne-Dyrrhachion: the Artemision », in I. GJIPALI, L. PËRZHITA, B. MUKA, Recent Archaeological Discoveries in Albania, Tirana, 2013 (Qendra e Studimeve Albanologjike, Instituti i Arkeologjisë), p. 119–125.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 375

Îles ioniennes

154 05.13 – Corcyre – L’A. rappelle qu’Artémis est honorée dans le grand temple archaïque et dans le « petit sanctuaire » à Palaiopolis, et ajoute que la déesse possédait sans doute d’autres sanctuaires dans l’île comme à Karousadès et Potamos, et en contexte privé ou artisanal. K. Préka-Alexandri insiste sur le lien entre la déesse et l’eau bien connu ailleurs dans le monde grec, et dégage grâce à l’iconographie trois domaines de rayonnement de la déesse : la fécondité, la souveraineté et la colonisation. La production locale de ces statuettes est bien attestée. K. PREKA-ALEXANDRI, « The Cult of Artemis in Corfu », in DUFEU-MULLER, HUYSECOM-HAXHI, MULLER (éd.), supra, 05.01, p. 400–407.

155 – Panorama de l’exploration archéologique de Corfou et des informations historiques qu’elle fournit. Des fouilles préventives ont été réalisées récemment dans les nécropoles à la périphérie septentrionale de la ville antique, où des monuments funéraires de grandes dimensions longeant des voies remontent au VIe s. av. J.-C. et s’apparentent morphologiquement au polyandrion d’Ambracie. Deux dispositifs livrent des informations sur la cérémonie funéraire : aux époques archaïque et classique, un enclos funéraire circulaire — un tumulus — de douze mètres de diamètre associé à ce que l’auteur nomme une « sacred eschara » et les vestiges d’un bûcher funéraire (πυρά) ; à la période classique et à la haute époque hellénistique un autre bûcher voisin d’environ 7 m2 et associé à 37 tombes, dont une a conservé son inscription, présentent une concentration d’environ 3000 petites coupes à boire ou à libation (fig. 18–19). G. METALLINOU, « Kerkyra through the Excavations of the Last Years: Myths and Realities », in Cl. ANTONETTI (éd.), supra, 05.04, p. 11–34.

06. Phthiotide, Thessalie (Michael Fowler)

156 06.00 – Généralités – Ce volume abondamment illustré (le résultat d’un effort collaboratif des membres de l’Institut archéologique d’études thessaliennes) essaie d’offrir au grand public un inventaire à jour et archéologiquement informé des cités connues dans les tétrades de Thessalie et dans les régions voisines. Les articles traitent inter alia des restes matériels des sanctuaires et des cultes. E. NIKOLAOU, S. KRAVARITOU (éd.), Αρχαίες πόλεις Θεσσαλίας και περίοικων περιοχών, Larisa, 2012.

157 – L’imagerie cultuelle figure sur trois objets de l’ère mycénienne ayant été recueillis dans des tombes de l’élite dans la région SE de la Thessalie (spéc. en Magnésie). Leur iconographie correspond aux trois thèmes les plus populaires dans l’Égée préhistorique en général, comme observé dans les peintures murales existantes et les arts mineurs : sanctuaire tripartite, procession des femmes vers un sanctuaire, saut au-dessus du taureau. Le premier objet, une feuille fine d’or ornée d’une image repoussée d’un sanctuaire tripartite, a été trouvé dans une grande tombe à tholos dans les alentours de Kapakli-Aghioi Anargyri, qui était en activité principalement entre l’HR IIIA et probablement l’HR IIIB. Les seuls parallèles matériels et iconographiques en Grèce continentale proviennent des tombes III et IV à Mycènes et appartiennent à un assemblage d’artéfacts datant de l’HR I. Le deuxième objet, un anneau à sceau en or (CMS V, 728), a été découvert dans la tombe à chambre Γ (datée par l’assemblage

Kernos, 27 | 2014 376

artéfactuel d’entre l’HR IIIA et l’HR IIIB) à Mégalo Monastiri Larissas. L’anneau comporte une scène de deux figures féminines vêtues de vêtements plissés du type minoen le plus vraisemblablement avec le sein exposé. Les femmes lèvent leurs bras gauches et semblent se diriger vers la droite, où se trouve un édifice coiffé de deux paires de cornes. Les anneaux portant cette iconographie étaient particulièrement populaires dans le Péloponnèse au XVe s. av. J.-C. Le troisième objet, un sceau en pierre (CMS I, 408) provenant de la tombe à tholos pillée de Lamiospito à Dimini (construite à l’HR IIIA), dépeint un saut au-dessus d’un taureau de la « Floating Leaper Schema » de Younger ; stylistiquement, le sceau semble appartenir au groupe dit « Dot-Eye », qui date du XVe s. av. J.-C. Ce sceau constitue la seule représentation (dont l’authenticité n’est pas remise en cause) d’un saut au-dessus d’un taureau à avoir été mise au jour en Thessalie. Étant donné la datation de la tombe (XIVe-XIIIe s. av. J.-C.), le sceau fut probablement acquis par un Thessalien bien après sa fabrication, et fut posé dans la tombe comme une relique. Au vu de la datation antérieure de l’anneau en or (l’HR II- IIIA) et de celle de la tombe dans laquelle il fut laissé, cet objet fut probablement aussi importé comme relique. L’A. affirme que les scènes sur ces objets ne reflétaient pas la réalité de la pratique cultuelle en Thessalie à la période mycénienne. Au lieu de cela, elles étaient utilisées afin d’accroître le prestige des élites locales, qui pouvaient se procurer de tels articles étrangers — et, dans quelques cas, anciens — par des réseaux commerciaux. D. ROUSIOTI, « Λατρευτικές εικονογραφικές σκηνές από τη Θεσσαλία κατά τη μυκηναϊκή εποχή », Θεσσαλικά μελετήματα 3 (2013), p. 179–198. 158 06.01 – Démétrias – Un réexamen critique des témoignages épars épigraphiques et archéologiques de l’établissement du culte des archégétai et des ktistai à Démétrias. Deux inscriptions du IIIe s. av. J.-C. provenant des alentours de la cité ancienne (IG IX, 2 1099 ; I.Thessalie 1030A et B) sont analysées en détail aux côtés des témoignages archéologiques et des parallèles épigraphiques d’autres poleis hellénistiques. L’A. propose que les diverses communautés de Démétrias ont pris un rôle actif dans la formulation des termes du culte royal, qui a été probablement instauré pour commémorer le synécisme des communautés magnésiennes. La forme plurielle de ktistai suggère qu’au moins deux rois, l’un défunt (Démétrios) et l’autre vivant (Antigonos), étaient honorés comme des fondateurs avec les héros ancestraux locaux. Les partis qui ont promu l’institution du culte et l’emplacement de son siège ne peuvent être déterminés au vu des témoignages qui ont survécu. S. KRAVARITOU, « Thessalian Perceptions of Ruler Cult: Archegetai and Ktistai from Demetrias», in P. MARTZAVOU, N. PAPAZARKADAS (éd.), Epigraphical Approaches to the Post- Classical Polis: Fourth Century BC to Second Century AD, New York, 2013, p. 255–276.

159 –Un petit thymiatérion en bronze et quatre statuettes en bronze de divinités (Hermès, Zeus, Athéna, et Aphrodite) ont été mis au jour dans un espace à l’intérieur d’une maison de l’époque romaine impériale. Ensemble, ils témoignent du culte domestique. [Pour une discussion précédente de ces trouvailles cf. ChronARG 26 (2013) 06.03, où Zeus est plutôt identifié par les fouilleurs comme étant Asclépios.] P. TRIANTAPHYLLOPOULOU, « Η Δημητριάδα και η ευρύτερη περιοχή της κατά τους ρωμαϊκούς χρόνους », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 341–349. 160 – Sanctuaire de Déméter Thesmophoros – La conclusion que des érudits ont tirée des fouilles d’A. Arvanitopoulos en 1915, à savoir que les vestiges architecturaux (d’un

Kernos, 27 | 2014 377

bâtiment et d’un mur au N) appartiennent à un temple et à un temenos, est revue à la lumière des nouvelles preuves archéologiques. L’A. a mené une fouille au côté E de la cité emmurée proche de l’enceinte, à peu près à 50 m au SO de l’endroit où on pense qu’Arvanitopoulos avait fouillé ; deux bases carrées avec des mortaises circulaires qui furent remployées dans une construction ultérieure et les restes d’un mur (conservé à l’hauteur de 1,5 m) composé de gravats et orienté sur l’axe NE-SO ont été notés et associés à la fouille précédente. Bien que l’A. constate qu’aucune zone ou aucune structure qui a été mise au jour ne peut être fermement reliée au Thesmophorion, l’existence d’un tel sanctuaire aux alentours et d’un culte de Déméter, de Korè et de Plouton est indirectement indiquée par des objets recueillis lors des deux fouilles (par exemple, des inscriptions votives et un décret des astynomoi, des matériels coroplathiques, des vases à boire, des amphores portant des marques sur les anses, et des statues fragmentaires en marbre). L’A. se concentre sur de nombreux objets en terre cuite comprenant des figurines, pour la plupart de femmes et de quelques enfants, le moule d’une plaque, des poids de métier à tisser, et des anses d’amphore marquées. Ces trouvailles ont été découvertes avec les vestiges architecturaux appartenant à deux phases de construction distinctes : d’abord un bâtiment du IIIe s. av. J.-C. et puis, à l’O, une structure possiblement semi-hypèthre du milieu du IIe s. av. J.-C. ; le mur orienté sur l’axe N-S, qui appartient à la première phase, s’étend au-delà de la zone de fouille dans les deux directions. Le manque de figurines masculines en particulier est lié de manière hypothétique à l’identité féminine des participantes au rituel et des divinités honorées. En plus de Déméter, de Korè, et de Plouton, Dionysos pouvait aussi avoir été honoré, comme le suggèrent une grappe de raisin en terre cuite (au Musée archéologique de Volos no ID 25768), qui appartenait à l’origine à une statuette ou à une plaque, et le moule fragmentaire d’une plaque qui représente une ménade assise aux seins nus et un thyrsos posé verticalement derrière elle (au Musée archéologique de Volos no BE 41579). A. BATZIOU-EUSTATHIOU, « Λατρείες Δήμητρας και Κόρης στη Δημητριάδα », in I. LEVENTI, Chr. MITSOPOULOU (éd.), Ιερά και λατρείες της Δήμητρας στον αρχαίο ελληνικό κόσμο, Volos, 2010, p. 179–199, spéc. 179–188, avec figs. 1–6.

161 – Nécropole méridionale, Sanctuaire de Pasikrata –L’A. réexamine les artéfacts qu’Arvanitopolous a trouvés lors de sa fouille archéologique du sanctuaire de Pasikrata afin de préciser la nature de cette divinité locale. Parmi les trouvailles qui ont été identifiées au Musée archéologique de Volos, on notera la tête en marbre de Pasikrata (no Λ 540), le torse supérieur grandeur nature en terre cuite d’une femme vêtue d’un chiton ceinturé sous la poitrine (no M 2001), cinq stèles votives (nos E 507, E 524, E 537, E 719, et E 827), un autel votif inscrit en marbre (no E 527), un mélange de figurines de femmes et de garçons vêtus de la chlamys et de la kausia, et quatre plaques en relief en terre cuite, dont deux dépeignent Aphrodite (nos M 2003, M 2005), une étant le plus vraisemblablement Aphrodite ou Hécate avec un personnage masculin daïmonique sur son épaule gauche (no 2002), et une d’un type méconnaissable (no M 2004). L’A. suggère, en comparaison avec une autre divinité féminine chthonienne à Pella, que Pasikrata assimilait des caractéristiques des déesses Aphrodite et Perséphone. Les objets votifs, par exemple les plaques en relief montrant Aphrodite et une figurine d’un cochon mentionnée par Arvanitopoulos, pourraient appuyer cette interprétation. Ibid., spéc. p. 188–192, avec figs. 1, 7–8.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 378

162 06.02 – Dimini –Une discussion des témoignages archéologiques de l’organisation de la ville mycénienne et de son importance comme un centre d’activité politique, économique, et religieuse dans la région du golfe Pagasitique, particulièrement à l’apogée de son développement entre l’HR IIIA et l’HR IIIB. Une figurine bovine peinte intacte en terre cuite sur des roues témoigne potentiellement d’un sanctuaire domestique dans la Maison K à trois pièces. Une grande structure en argile en forme de H a été découverte au cœur de la Salle 1 du Mégaron B. Une plateforme elliptique a été trouvée à l’E de la structure en argile. Devant elle se trouve une base en pierre. L’aménagement général de la salle ainsi que la découverte d’une grande coupe peinte utilisée vraisemblablement pour des offrandes suggèrent que cet endroit abritait des activités cultuelles. Ceci est confirmé par la découverte de petits kyathia avec des os animaux brûlés dans trois chambres latérales au S et par l’existence d’un autel rond bâti dans la cour au NE. Contrairement au Mégaron A, le Mégaron B n’a pas de quartiers domestiques ; il a livré une large quantité de biens et de céramiques qui dépasse ce qui est nécessaire pour une unité résidentielle mais qui arrive en deçà des niveaux supposés pour un lieu de stockage. L’A. soutient donc que la Mégaron B servait de lieu d’activités cultuelles et sympotiques plutôt que de maison de chef. Un assemblage d’objets, qui semblent à l’origine avoir été déposés comme offrandes votives sur une dalle de pierre dotée de cavités, a été trouvé devant l’entrée du Mégaron B. Ces objets comprennent une kylix peinte portant une inscription en linéaire B (l’une de deux cas d’écrits recueillis lors des fouilles), des figurines peintes faites main, et des sceaux en pierre. La céramique aide à dater la couche de destruction du site vers la fin du XIIIe s. av. J.-C., qui est contemporaine des destructions dans les communautés voisines de Kastro Volou et à Pefkakia. L’A. affirme que ces trois communautés formaient une sympolitie : l’ancienne ville d’Iolcos. V. ADRYMI-SISMANI, « Ο ρόλος του μυκηναϊκού οικισμού Διμηνίου στην περιοχή γύρω από τον μυχό του παγασητικού κόλπου », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 159–176. 163 06.03 – Échinos –L’A. essaie de reconstituer la provenance archéologique de onze sculptures hellénistiques en marbre et en calcaire que les autorités ont saisies des résidents d’Échinos en 1967 ; les objets sont désormais hébergés dans le Musée archéologique de Lamia. Parmi eux le plus notable est une statuette presque intacte en calcaire d’Harpocrate (no AE 380 ; IIe-Ier s. av. J.-C.), qui est la seule représentation du dieu provenant de la Phthiotide. L’A. soutient que toutes les statuettes provenaient probablement des sanctuaires à Échinos et peut-être du même unique sanctuaire. Des fouilles à la proximité S du versant rocheux de l’acropole ont mis au jour quelques vestiges d’une structure de l’époque romaine impériale érigée sur les fondations d’un édifice antérieur (de la fin du IVe s. au début du IIIe s. av. J.-C.). Le relief votif en marbre bien connu consacré à Artémis (vers 300 av. J.-C., maintenant au Musée archéologique de Lamia no AE 1041), où la déesse figure en tant que protectrice de l’accouchement et des enfants, fut trouvé dans ce contexte. Le relief fut également mis au jour avec trois autres fragments de sculpture : une jambe d’une femme (no AE 41) ; le torse et la partie supérieure des jambes d’un Éros ailé, qui aurait peut-être appartenu à un groupe sculptural (no AE 2) ; et la partie inférieure d’une femme en partie drapée (no Λ 179) que l’A. identifie comme étant Aphrodite, mais pourrait plutôt représenter Psyché [pour la dernière identification selon laquelle la statuette est considérée pour des raisons formelles comme faisant partie d’un groupe sculptural avec l’Éros susmentionné voir I. LEVENTI, « Marble sculptures from the Phthiotis in the Lamia Archaeological Museum, »

Kernos, 27 | 2014 379

ABSA 108 (2013), spéc. p. 297–302]. Au vu de cet assemblage, l’A. suggère que le bâtiment appartenait à un sanctuaire commun d’Artémis et d’Aphrodite. [Pourtant, les trouvailles sculpturales ne suffisent pas pour classifier ce bâtiment comme étant public ou cultuel ; en fait, comme Leventis, ibid., p. 315, l’indique, avant la période romaine il était de rigueur pour les riches de décorer leurs maisons avec des reliefs classiques et des sculptures hellénistiques ou de les dédier dans des sanctuaires domestiques. On peut donc citer les mêmes sculptures pour soutenir une identification de la structure romaine impériale comme une villa urbaine.] L’A. propose que certaines des sculptures saisies auraient également pu provenir du bâtiment de culte présumé : des statuettes identifiées comme étant Artémis et Aphrodite (nos AE 374, 375, 381, 382) ; deux têtes féminines, si elles représentaient vraiment ces déesses (nos AE 377, 378) ; et un garçon nu (no AE 379), qui est considéré comme étant Éros ou un enfant consacré à Artémis la kourotrophe. Deux autres sculptures en calcaire, une dépeignant Isis ou une femme adoptant ses caractéristiques (no AE 383) et l’Harpocrate susdit, semblent être stylistiquement contemporaines (IIe-Ier s. av. J.C.) et semblent peut-être avoir été sculptées dans le même atelier. Les caractéristiques stylistiques et techniques communes, avec l’étroite association de ces divinités, mènent l’A. à penser qu’elles furent du même endroit. Au vu de la compétence partagée d’Isis sur l’éducation des enfants et le mariage, l’A. fait l’hypothèse que les statuettes proviennent d’un sanctuaire des dieux égyptiens jusqu’ici inconnu ou du sanctuaire présumé d’Artémis et d’Aphrodite. Les contextes originels des deux fragments de sculpture restants (la tête d’Alexandre le Grand et un hermès, respectivement nos AE 376 and Λ 387) ne peuvent être reconstitués avec aucune spécificité. [En fin de compte, la tentative de reconstitution de l’A. ne convainc pas : le bâtiment de l’époque romaine impériale n’est pas nécessairement public ou cultuel ; les sculptures saisies auraient pu provenir de divers contextes, y compris domestique ; et la collection des statuettes d’Artémis et d’Aphrodite pourrait révéler la popularité générale de leur iconographie à la période hellénistique tardive plutôt que leur origine partagée dans un sanctuaire commun.] E. PHROUSSOU, « Αγαλμάτιο Απροκράτη από τον Αχινό: έναυσμα συνειρμών για ύπαρξη ιερού με συλλατρευόμενες θεότητες στον αρχαίο Εχίνο », in Φθιωτική ιστορία. Πρακτικά 4ου συνεδρίου φθιωτικής ιστορίας (ιστορία – αρχαιολογία – λαογραφία), 9, 10 και 11 Νοεμβρίου 2007, Lamia, 2010, p. 491–526.

164 06.04 – Kastri Livadiou – VIIe Éphorie des antiquités byzantines – Des fouilles sur l’acropole de la cité paléochrétienne de Dolichi effectuées entre les années 2006 et 2008 ont mis au jour des inscriptions faisant allusion à Héraclès Kynagidas et à un sanctuaire lui étant consacré. Un décret (no Λ 55 ; de la fin du IIIe s. au début du IIe s. av. J.-C.) a été trouvé dans la Chambre E1 ; il mentionne le sanctuaire d’Héraclès comme étant le lieu où la stèle fut érigée. D’autres inscriptions dédicatoires à Héraclès Kynagidas ont été découvertes dans la Basilique Γ, dans l’utilisation secondaire comme des matériaux de construction avec, par exemple, des bases d’objets votifs et des autels en miniature. Une dédicace à Héraclès Kynagidas nomme un prêtre et deux néokoroi,tandis qu’une autre fut dédiée par un certain Alexandros, fils d’Eudémos (du IVe s. av. J.-C.). De nombreuses autres offrandes votives fragmentaires ont été dispersées dans le remblayage de l’annexe au N de l’abside de la basilique ; parmi les offrandes se trouvent des autels miniatures (no Λ 82–83), une petite base inscrite d’une statue féminine (no Λ 81), un fragment d’une stèle votive (no Λ 105), et une partie d’une plaque en relief en marbre (no Λ 112). Une stèle votive en marbre d’un cavalier a aussi été trouvée aux

Kernos, 27 | 2014 380

alentours de la basilique. Les trouvailles épigraphiques témoignent de l’existence d’un sanctuaire d’Héraclès quelque part dans l’ancienne cité, sinon sur l’acropole elle-même. L. DERIZIOTIS, S. KOUYOUMTZOGLOU, « Ο Ηρακλής Κυναγίδας και η βασιλική Γ στην ακρόπολη της παλαιοχριστιανικής Δολίχης », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 663–670 ; AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 50–51, avec fig. 72–75.

165 06.05 – Kastro Kallithéa – XVe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Institut canadien en Grèce – Lors de la fouille du Bâtiment 10 (une grande maison hellénistique avec des influences architecturales romaines), un foyer a été mis au jour dans l’Unité C (Salle 6). Un pot sans couvercle ressemblant à une pyxide se situait à l’angle NE du foyer, soutenue par des tessons de tuiles. Le pot est orné d’un serpent en relief sur son extérieur et contenait des cendres et des os brûlés. Les chercheurs estiment que cet objet est probablement une offrande à Zeus Ktésios. Si cela est avéré, il témoignerait du culte domestique. D.W. RUPP, « The Fieldwork of the Canadian Institute in Greece, 2009 », Mouseion 11 (2011), 1–24, spéc. p. 4, avec fig. 3.

166 06.06 – Marmariani – Il y a plus d’une décennie, une stèle haute en marbre en grande partie intacte (145,0 × 48,0/42,5 × 11,5/7,6 cm ; maintenant au Musée de Larissa no 2002/33) a été découverte ex situ au sein de la terre de remblai apportée de l’extérieur du village. Elle porte une inscription opisthographe unique en partie conservée (du IIe s. av. J.-C.) qui donne des informations très utiles sur le sanctuaire d’Artémis Phylakè, sa réglementation cultuelle, ses structures et ses mobiliers, le calendrier et les rituels, le personnel de culte, les types d’offrandes, et d’autres divinités grecques ainsi que non grecques qui y étaient vénérées (dont cinq étaient auparavant inconnues : Mogga, Alaia, Lillaias, Adara, et Lilla). Le culte d’Artémis Phylakè semble avoir été initiatique. J.-C. DECOURT, A. TZIAFALIAS, « Un nouveau règlement religieux de la région de Larissa », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 463–473 ; AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 49–50.

167 06.07 – Mélitaia – Une discussion succincte des preuves littéraires, épigraphiques et archéologiques des sanctuaires et des cultes de la cité antique de Mélitaia. Un certain nombre de dieux sont connus pour y avoir reçu des cultes, y compris Asclépios, Artémis-En(n)odia, Zeus Othryios, Zeus Sotèr, Poséidon, Leukothéa, Hermès, Déméter, Borée, et l’empereur romain. Parmi les sites identifiés comme des sanctuaires potentiels de ces dieux, seulement deux ont été confirmés par des fouilles archéologiques : l’Asclépiéion sur l’acropole (construit probablement à la fin du IVe s. av. J.-C.) et le temple non périptère à deux pièces d’Artémis-En(n)odia sur la propriété de Ath. Kalamaras (se composant de deux phases de construction superposées : ca du milieu du Ve s. av. J.-C. et probablement de la fin du IVe au début du IIIe s. av. J.-C.). Les cultes de Mélitaia ressemblent en général à ceux qui furent établis dans d’autres régions de la Thessalie. L. STAVROGIANNIS, « Ιερά και λατρείες στην αρχαία Μελιταία », in Φθιωτική ιστορία, supra, 06.03, p. 585–598.

168 06.08 – Pharsala –Bien qu’aucun sanctuaire n’ait été formellement identifié, des fouilles de sauvetage menées depuis le début du XXe s. ont révélé des éléments architecturaux et divers objets, particulièrement des inscriptions votives, qui permettent l’identification de certaines divinités honorées et suggèrent des localisations possibles pour certains sanctuaires (par exemple celui de Zeus Thaulios).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 381

S. KARAPANOU, « Σωστικές ανασκαφές στα Φάρσαλα. Στοιχεία για την οργάνωση του δημόσιου χώρου στην πόλη των ελληνιστικών χρονών », AEThSE3 (2009) [2012], p. 405– 418 ; AR2012–2013 (2013), p. 46–47, avecfig. 66.

169 06.09 – Phères (Velestino) –Un grand kothon à vernis noir inscrit sur le goulot avec une consécration à Artémis Pheraia (de la fin du IVe s. au début du IIIe s. av. J.-C. ; maintenant au Musée archéologique Paolo Orsi à Syracuse) et recueilli dans le puits dit « d’Artémis » à Syracuse constitue un rare témoignage archéologiquement solide du culte de cette déesse thessalienne. Une inscription analogue sur la partie inférieure d’un lécythe aryballisque acquis sur le marché de l’art en 1981 est fausse. Le kothon a été trouvé avec un protomé d’une divinité féminine ou d’une fidèle et de nombreuses figurines féminines représentées debout, dansant, ou jouant de la musique (tous maintenant au Musée archéologique Paolo Orsi à Syracuse). Les trouvailles du puits pourraient provenir du sanctuaire de Déméter et Korè, qui a été découvert à proximité sur la Piazza della Vittoria, où des figurines d’Artémis ont également été mises au jour. La présence d’Artémis dans le sanctuaire conférerait un caractère chthonien à la déesse. Si les objets provenant du puits étaient vraiment associés à ce sanctuaire, alors les figurines des danseuses et des musiciennes pourraient être liées aux éléments du culte d’Artémis. La dédicace du kothon pourrait indiquer que le culte d’Artémis n’était pas confiné aux femmes mais impliquait aussi des hommes, peut-être ceux qui avaient des liens particuliers au domaine de la déesse : par exemple, des éphèbes, des chasseurs, et des généraux. Il y a des allusions littéraires et épigraphiques au culte d’Artémis Pheraia dans quatre autres contextes en dehors de la Thessalie : la colonie syracusaine d’Issa, Sicyone, Argos, et Athènes. L’A. propose que, compte tenu de la datation et du dialecte de l’inscription sur le kothon, le culte fut instauré à Syracuse au IVe s. av. J.-C., quand la ville entretenait d’étroites relations avec le Péloponnèse et Athènes, et fut probablement introduit par un citadin ou un Grec dorien via le Péloponnèse (et le plus vraisemblablement la métropole de Corinthe) et pas par Phères elle-même. D. PALAIOTHODOROS, « Η λατρεία της Αρτέμιδος Φεραίας από τη Θεσσαλία στις Συρακούσες », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 439–450. 170 – Sanctuaire d’En(n)odia et de Zeus Thaulios –XIIIe Éphorie des antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Une présentation des nouvelles découvertes occasionnées par les opérations de nettoyage approfondies et par l’ouverture de tranchées d’exploration menées dans les années 2006–2007. [Les résultats ont été brièvement résumés dans ChronARG 26 (2013) 06.10]. Une structure rectangulaire datée par des trouvailles d’entre les périodes protogéométrique et géométrique tardive (la partie conservée mesure 10,65 × 1,25 m) a été identifiée à l’O du flanc du temple du IVe s. et sur l’axe qui lui est parallèle ; des traces dispersées de combustion sur le côté E de la structure suggèrent qu’elle fonctionnait comme un autel ou une eschara . Quand le temple était en construction, cette structure demeurait telle quelle, ce que les excavateurs interprètent comme un geste de respect envers ce lieu de culte antérieur. Les vestiges d’un bâtiment à trois pièces (7,40 × 4,40 m) ont été dégagés à une distance de 20 m au NE du temple. Bien qu’aucun objet n’ait été trouvé dans le bâtiment qui permettrait de préciser son utilisation (l’intérieur n’a été fouillé qu’à une profondeur de 0,20 m au-dessous des fondations, et la zone environnante n’a pas été creusée), la forme du bâtiment et ses dimensions ressemblent à celles d’une « maison de culte ». Les fondations s’appuient sur des couches qui datent de la période hellénistique tardive et romaine. Quelle que

Kernos, 27 | 2014 382

soit la fonction du bâtiment, sa date de construction témoigne d’une fréquentation continue du sanctuaire à l’époque romaine impériale. Un dépôt contenant un assortiment d’offrandes votives datant de la période géométrique à la période hellénistique a été découvert au NE du temple. P. ARACHOVITI, A. DOULYERI-INTZESILOGLOU, M. TSIGARA, « Ναός Θαυλίου Διός Φερών. Νέα δεδομένα », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 451–458. 171 06.10 – Proerna (Néo Monastiri), Sanctuaire de Déméter –L’A. étudie une statue grandeur nature fragmentaire en marbre (pentélique ?), trouvée par hasard en 1979 près du sanctuaire de Déméter et maintenant conservée au Musée archéologique de Lamia (no Pa 1040). Le fragment se compose de la moitié inférieure du torse jusqu’à la partie supérieure du tibia droit d’une femme vêtue d’un chiton et d’un manteau. Une analyse comparative du style et de la technique des draperies et de sa sculpture suggère une datation d’entre 310 et 280 av. J.-C. Quant à l’iconographie, l’A. affirme que la position diagonale du manteau est caractéristique de certaines représentations de Déméter et pourrait donc lier la statue à cette déesse. Les comparanda iconographiques les plus proches dans la sculpture autoportante de l’apparence des draperies et de sa posture sont deux péplophores plus grandes que nature, qui ont été identifiées comme étant Déméter : l’une extrêmement fragmentaire de Kos (au Kastro no PBE 503 ; de la fin du IVe s. av. J.-C.) et l’autre sans tête à Égine (au Musée archéologique no 2253 ; 325–300 av. J.-C.). La provenance archéologique de la sculpture est considérée comme une preuve confirmant cette identification. L’A. propose qu’elle représente Déméter et qu’elle aurait pu être une dédicace, ou peut-être la statue de culte, posée dans le sanctuaire de la déesse. [Il y a cependant d’autres identifications envisageables, par exemple, une prêtresse adoptant des éléments de l’habillement de la déesse, comme dans le cas de la statue de Nikéso de Priène.] I. LEVENTI, « Αποσπασματικό άγαλμα Δήμητρας από το ιερό της θεάς στην Πρόερνα », in P. ADAM-VELENI, K. TZANAVARI(éd.), Δινήεσσα. Τιμητικός τόμος για την Κατερίνα Ρωμιοπούλου, Thessalonique, 2012, p. 371–378.

172 06.11 – Soros, Sanctuaire d’Apollon –XIIIe Éphorie des Antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – Université de Thessalie – L’A. présente les découvertes de la fouille du sanctuaire menée entre 2004 et 2008, y compris le réexamen des zones auparavant explorées par l’équipe allemande [cf. V. MILOJČIĆ, « Bericht über die Deutschen Archäologischen Ausgrabungen in Thessalien 1973 », AAA 7, p. 65–75, avec fig. 22–37 ; voir aussi ChronARG (2011) 06.06 pour les résultats préliminaires des fouilles des années 2004–2005.] La fouille a dégagé les restes architecturaux de plusieurs structures, dont un temple, deux espaces rectangulaires entourés de murs et contigus au flanc S du temple, une section du mur E du temenos, la base inscrite d’une offrande votive (une statue ?), et un petit « oikos ». Le temple est de plan rectangulaire et s’étend le long de l’axe E-O. Il se compose d’une cella (Zone A ; 22,42 × 8,33 m) et d’un pronaos peu profond (Zone B, délimitée intérieurement par le mur T4 ; 1,25 × 8,33 m), qui fut ajouté au côté E de la cella. Ses murs extérieurs (T1-T3 et T5) font 0,7 m de large et sont conservés jusqu’à une hauteur de 1,25 m. Alors que l’entrée principale de la cella se situe à l’E, dans le pronaos, il y a une entrée supplémentaire au flanc N, approximativement à mi- chemin sur la longueur du mur (T2). L’élévation aurait pu être bâtie en partie en briques crues. Une colonnade de dix colonnes en bois longeait l’axe central de la cella, comme l’indique la série toujours in situ de bases rectangulaires en pierre régulièrement espacées. Le toit était couvert de tuiles du type laconien ; des antéfixes

Kernos, 27 | 2014 383

en terre cuite décorées en relief avec deux thèmes différents : une palmette à sept pétales avec des motifs en forme de S se terminant par des volutes et coiffés par des fleurs de lotus, et un cavalier armé d’une lance, monté en profil, et faisant face à droite. Les reliefs semblent dater de la période archaïque tardive à classique précoce. Un banc (0,45 m de l’hauteur) portant de petites traces d’enduit en plâtre entoure les côtés N, S, et O de la cella ; deux phases différentes du banc ont été perçues : lors de la première phase le banc faisait 0,48 m de large et lors de la deuxième sa largeur a été doublée à 0,98 m. La découverte sur le banc d’une concentration d’os animaux (surtout de caprins) et quelques petits tessons (pour la plupart de vases à boire) suggère que des festins rituels se déroulaient à l’intérieur du temple ; cette interprétation est confirmée par l’eschara en pierre se situant entre la quatrième et la cinquième colonnes de l’O, qui fut déjà identifiée lors de la fouille précédente de 1973. Plusieurs dépressions dispersées ont été observées dans le socle rocheux au-dessous du sol intérieur. Certaines auraient pu s’être formées naturellement, tandis que d’autres pourraient être associées à une phase antérieure du sanctuaire, où elles servaient à la fixation d’objets en bois. Un chenal profond et étroit a été trouvé à l’angle SE de la cella ; il s’étend diagonalement au NE vers le pronaos, où il se jette dans un grand creux circulaire. Une profusion de coquilles marines a été recueillie à l’intérieur du creux. Bien que le chenal ait été créé naturellement, les fouilleurs assimilent sa forme à celle du chenal dans l’Oikos des Naxiens à Délos et estiment qu’il était peut-être utilisé pour verser des libations rituelles. À part davantage de tessons appartenant à une amphore panathénaïque, dont des morceaux furent trouvés pour la première fois en 1973, les couches du sol n’ont livré aucune trouvaille notable. Les nouveaux tessons, qui ont été mis au jour à l’angle NE de la cella, confirment la datation du vase de l’archontat de Pythodélos (336/5 av. J.- C.). Beaucoup de petits trous circulaires ont été révélés dans le socle rocheux au- dessous du pronaos ; les fouilleurs les interprètent comme étant des trous de poteaux appartenant peut-être à la phase initiale (semi-hypèthre ?) du sanctuaire. Les deux espaces rectangulaires (dits Γ et Δ) contigus au mur S du temple ont été complètement fouillés pour la première fois. L’espace Γ, le plus petit (5,61 × 5,10 m), est entouré par des murs en forme de Π et s’ouvre à l’E. Immédiatement à l’O se trouve l’espace enclos Δ (11,10 × 5,45 m), doté d’une entrée au SE. La couche supérieure de l’enclos était tapissée de pierres écroulées ; une cagnotte de quatre statères d’argent de la confédération thessalienne (197–27 av. J.-C.) a été découverte directement au-dessous de l’une des pierres dans le quadrant SE de la zone. Juste au-dessous de la couche de pierres, des tuiles laconiennes cassées bordaient le mur S du temple dans une bande faisant 2 m de large. Les pierres ainsi que les tuiles constituaient le plus vraisemblablement une couche de destruction liée à l’écroulement du temple et pas à l’espace Δ, qui était plus probablement une enceinte hypèthre. Une épaisse couche s’étendant jusqu’à la roche se trouve au-dessous de la couche de destruction. Cette couche était probablement un remplissage, puisqu’elle contenait de nombreux objets parsemés des époques archaïque tardive à hellénistique précoce, parmi lesquels des tessons (surtout de céramique de cuisine et de stockage), des vases miniatures et des lampes, des figurines fragmentaires en terre cuite représentant des femmes, et des bijoux en bronze et en verre. Les trouvailles (particulièrement la céramique) suggèrent que le site fut abandonné au début du IIIe s. av. J.-C., vraisemblablement après un séisme. La chronologie précise du dépôt du remplissage demeure incertaine, mais elle pourrait postdater l’abandon du sanctuaire de plusieurs siècles. Cela est suggéré par la présence de carbone datant du IIe/IIIe s. ap. J.-C. au sein du même contexte stratigraphique, comme une coquille de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 384

mollusque dont la datation s’accorde avec celle des trouvailles artéfactuelles. Au IIe ou IIIe s. ap. J.-C., le temple, délabré et dépourvu de son toit, pourrait donc avoir été converti en enceinte pour une exploitation agricole de petite envergure, lorsque le remplissage fut déposé (ce qui pourrait expliquer, par exemple, la pénurie de tuiles cassées et de petits objets à l’intérieur du temple). Une construction allongée de pierre, se composant d’une série de « compartiments » en forme de ciste (pour le stockage d’aliment ou d’offrandes votives ?) se couche sur la roche et va de l’angle SE de l’espace Δ à son mur W (T8). Aucun objet n’a été recueilli dans ces compartiments. Une structure semi-circulaire jusqu’ici inexpliquée qui est formée par des dalles posées droites a été identifiée à l’extrême E de la construction allongée. Un groupe d’objets était situé près de la roche aux environs du cœur de l’espace Δ ; une phiale mésomphalos en bronze intacte et une figurine en terre cuite archaïque d’une femme assise sont particulièrement remarquables. Cet assemblage archéologique pourrait appartenir à la phase la plus ancienne du sanctuaire, avec la rangée de « compartiments » et la structure semi-circulaire. La construction des espaces Γ and Δ est postérieure au temple, comme la maçonnerie des murs orientés à l’axe N-S (T6 et T8) n’est pas intégrée à celle du mur S du temple (T1). À peu près 10 m à l’E du côté E du temple, une partie d’un mur (T15 ; longueur : ca 30 m) orientée N-S a été dégagée ; il fut érigé sur la roche. Ce mur est attribué au mur de temenos. Une couche de pierres appartenant à une structure longue (T16 ; dont la partie fouillée mesure 30 × 2,5–3,0 m) a été découverte à l’O du mur T15 et alignée presque parallèlement au côté E du temple. On a fait l’hypothèse que cette structure mal conservée était soit le soubassement de l’enceinte de la cité soit une route pavée menant de la cité au sanctuaire. À une distance d’environ 50 m de l’angle NE du temple se trouvent quatre blocs en marbre, disposés en rectangle (T18 ; 1,51 × 0,57 m) et se couchant sur la roche. Une opération de nettoyage a permis leur identification comme étant la base d’une dédicace, ce qui est établi par la découverte d’une inscription (de l’ère classique) sur la face extérieure du bloc S. Bien que l’inscription soit mal préservée, le verbe ΕΠΟΙΕ peut cependant être discerné dans sa deuxième ligne. Le bloc O fut spolié d’une dédicace plus antique, comme le suggère une inscription (de l’époque archaïque tardive à classique précoce) sur sa face intérieure, qui se lit ΑΥΤΟΝΟΑ ΟΝΕΘΗΚΕΝ ΤΟΔΙ. Au NO du temple, les vestiges architecturaux d’un « oikos » carré (Bâtiment E, T19–22 ; 3,4 × 3,4 m) ont été révélés. L’espace était couvert de tuiles laconiennes. Un petit fragment d’une antéfixe a été trouvé au côté NO de l’extérieur du bâtiment. Cette antéfixe comporte une palmette ressemblant celles sur les antéfixes du temple. Quelques tessons pourraient dater la construction à la période archaïque précoce, mais son utilisation reste indéterminée (un ancien bâtiment de culte transformé ultérieurement en trésor ?). A. MAZARAKIS AINIAN, « Το ιερό του Απόλλωνος στο “Σωρό” Μαγνησίας », in P. VALAVANIS (éd.), Ταξιδεύοντας στην κλασική Ελλάδα. Τόμος προς τιμήν του καθηγητή Πέτρου Θέμελη, Athènes, 2011, p. 143–170. Voir aussi ID., « Ανασκαφικές έρευνες στο ιερό του Απόλλωνος στο Σωρό (2006–2008) », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 287–298 ; AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 41– 42, avec fig. 52.

173 – Une étude préliminaire de quelques figurines en terre cuite du sanctuaire d’Apollon à Soros. En général, les objets coroplathiques semblent avoir été produits localement. L’absence totale de moules dans le sanctuaire suggère cependant que la production des terres cuites se déroulait ailleurs, vraisemblablement dans la cité. Les matériaux couvrent la période archaïque tardive, quand les créations locales témoignent de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 385

l’influence des œuvres produites aux centres importants de l’Ionie et de l’Égée orientale, aux périodes classiques et hellénistiques précoce, quand les produits athéniens et béotiens exercent une influence toujours croissante. Étant donné le sexe mâle du « propriétaire » divin du sanctuaire (Apollon), beaucoup de figurines féminines — qui représentent presque toutes les découvertes coroplathiques — dépeignent probablement des fidèles. D’autres terres cuites suggèrent que le culte possédait un caractère kourotrophique et que des rites de maturité pourraient avoir eu lieu dans le sanctuaire : la tête d’une hydrophore (no ΠΕ 9/05) ; la tête d’un garçon portant une kausia ou une couronne (no ΠΕ 28/05 ; au Musée archéologique de Volos n o Β? 5064+5065)?Ε 5064+5065) ; Aphrodite (e.g no Π? 25?; au Mus?e Ε 25 ; au Musée archéologique de Volos no Β? 41388?; la Ε 41388 ; la déesse fait le geste d’anakalypsis) ; le torse d’un Éros ailé tenant une phiale et une torche (no ΠΕ 16/04 ; au Musée archéologique de Volos no ΒΕ 41384) ; un fragment d’un masque grotesque (?) (no ΠΕ 10/05) ; et une partie de ce qui est probablement un nourrisson dans un berceau (no ΠΕ 46/05). Cette interprétation est soutenue par les dédicaces sculpturales trouvées dans le sanctuaire [cf. ChronARG (2011) 06.06]. I. LEVENTI, « Τα πήλινα ειδώλια από το ιερό του Απόλλωνος στη θέση Σωρός Μαγνησίας », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 299–313 ; AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 42, avec fig. 54.

174 – Une étude préliminaire de 273 petits objets, pour la plupart métalliques et excluant les figurines [pour lesquelles il faut consulter l’article de Leventi, supra], trouvés lors des fouilles menées au sanctuaire entre les années 2004 et 2008. Le gros des objets a été recueilli dans l’espace Δ. Seulement quelques objets en argent ont été découverts, les plus notables étant une boucle d’oreille en forme de bateau (no BE 47836) et une amulette du type de selinis (no BE 47790), qui est associée à la protection des enfants. La grande majorité des objets (189 sur 273) est en bronze. Parmi eux, 177 sont des anneaux fermés simples. On ne sait pas si ces anneaux fonctionnaient comme quelque chose d’autre que des bijoux. Quelques anneaux à chaton peuvent être distingués par une inscription gravée (no BE 41416 : ΧΑΙΡΕ/ΚΑΙ ΣΥ) ou par des décorations en entaille : Thétis portant un bouclier et montant un hippocampe (no BE 41415) ; un personnage masculin ailé s’agenouillant qui peut être identifié comme Éros (no BE 41375) ; et un homme debout avec du ventre et des hanches tous deux renflés, qui pourrait représenter un danseur en costume rembourré (no BE 47808). Les trouvailles en bronze comprennent une phiale mésomphalos (no BE 47795) et une seule pièce corinthienne datant d’entre le IVe s. et le IIIe s. av. J.-C. (n o BE 47758). Quoiqu’elles ne soient pas nombreuses (13 au total), les trouvailles en plomb incluent un certain nombre de spécimens intéressants : une figurine d’homme marchant vers la droite qui ressemble à celles trouvées dans des sanctuaires laconiens et appartenant peut-être au type du cômaste dansant (no BE 47797) ; un siège en miniature (no BE 47796) ; un plateau d’offrandes en miniature (no BE 47757) ; et une amulette en forme de disque ornée d’une rosette à huit pétales (no BE 47809). Les objets en fer sont rares ; ils comprennent la tête d’une épingle et l’arc d’un péroné (respectivement nos BE 47793, 47844) et deux anneaux (nos BE 41362, 47837). Les artéfacts en os les plus remarquables sont une colombe (no BE 47813), qui était vraisemblablement fixée à un péroné, et une hache double (no BE 47812), qui pourrait avoir été une amulette. Un anneau de verre transparent, dont le chaton porte une fine feuille d’or décorée avec une représentation d’un personnage ailé (Nikè ou Éros), peut être distingué parmi les trouvailles en verre. Les objets en pierre comprennent une

Kernos, 27 | 2014 386

pointe de flèche en silex (no BE 41361) et une partie d’une lame (n o BE 47965), qui pourraient toutes deux avoir été dédiées comme des reliques ou des talismans. Les terres cuites se composent d’une bobine, des fusaïoles, et des poids de métier à tisser. Dans l’ensemble, les petits objets sont caractéristiques des offrandes votives dédiées dans des sanctuaires en Thessalie et en Grèce en général aux époques archaïque et classique. Y. VITOS, M. PANAGOU, « Μικρά ευρήματα από το ιερό του Απόλλωνος στο Σωρό. Προκαταρκτική μελέτη », AEThSE 3 (2009) [2012], p. 315–330 ; AR 2012–2013 (2013), p. 42, avec fig. 53–54.

175 06.12 – Vyzitsa – Grotte du Centaure Chiron –XXXIVe Éphorie des Antiquités préhistoriques et classiques – L’A. rassemble et analyse les témoignages textuels subsistants, antiques ainsi que modernes, qui fournissent des informations sur l’emplacement de la grotte où, selon les mythes, le centaure Chiron habitait et enseignait. Avec l’aide de technologie (GPS) et après avoir effectué une inspection des pics du Mont Pélion et visité toutes les grottes dites « du Chiron » sur la montagne, l’A. affirme qu’une seule grotte remplit toutes les particularités géographiques et topographiques connues. Par conséquent, il propose que la grotte se situe sur le deuxième plus haut pic du Pélion et localise son entrée principale aux coordonnées suivantes : 39.40375º 23.03874º à une altitude de 1528 m. S.Ph. GALOUKAS, « Το Σπήλαιο του Κένταυρου Χείρωνα. Μύθος ή πραγματικότητα ? », AEThSE3 (2009) [2012], p. 331–339.

07. Macédoine (Emmanuel Voutiras et Kalliopi Chatzinikolaou)

176 07.00 – Généralités – Publication détaillée d’un ensemble de reliefs votifs représentant Artémis/Diane dans le type de la chasseresse et provenant de la partie orientale de la Macédoine. Les monuments étudiés sont répartis en deux groupes : les reliefs rupestres de Philippes, et un groupe de reliefs votifs que l’A. attribue à la cité de Philippopolis en Thrace (actuellement Plovdiv en Bulgarie) et sa chôra. Toutefois un contrôle des provenances des 34 reliefs appartenant au deuxième groupe montre que ceux-ci ne proviennent pas du territoire de Philippopolis, mais de Sandanski et de ses environs, dans la moyenne vallée du Strymon, où se trouvait une cité antique non encore identifiée avec certitude. Or cette cité faisait, tout comme Philippes, partie de la Macédoine, tout en étant limitrophe de la Thrace, ce qui explique les liens culturels étroits avec cette région. L’A. invente par ailleurs une « Provinz Ostmacedonia » englobant la partie orientale de la Macédoine antique où les influences thraces sont bien évidentes jusqu’à l’époque romaine. On est surpris par le nom germano-latin donné à cette « province romaine » qui n’a jamais existé, mais qui correspond, paraît-il, à une région à l’intérieur de la province de Macédoine, à savoir la première des quatre mérides créées lors de la restructuration de la Macédoine après la bataille de Pydna. L’étude des reliefs rupestres de Philippes représentant Artémis/Diane se fonde sur la publication de Collart et Ducrey. L’A. y reconnaît les mêmes types iconographiques que sur les reliefs de « Philippopolis » (en réalité de Sandanski, comme nous l’avons vu), qui sont, dans l’ensemble, de meilleure qualité. Tous les reliefs étudiés datent des IIe et IIIe s. ap. J.-C. L’image d’Artémis chasseresse, accompagnée d’un chien ou d’un cerf, que l’on trouve, avec diverses variantes, sur ces reliefs, aurait été élaborée en Macédoine à

Kernos, 27 | 2014 387

partir de prototypes attiques du IVe s. av. J.-C. Selon l’A., les Athéniens auraient incorporé dans cette image d’Artémis des traits iconographiques de la déesse thrace Bendis, ce qui a facilité sa pénétration dans la partie orientale de la Macédoine. Un élargissement de la recherche permettrait sans doute de parvenir à des résultats mieux fondés. M. DEOUDI,Die thrakische Jägerin. Römische Steindenkmäler aus Makedonia und Thracia, Wiesbaden, 2010 (Peleus. Studien zur Archäeologie und Geschichte Griechenlands und Zyperns, 51).

177 07.01 – Stobi – L’A. recense les vestiges du culte de Dionysos à Stobi, municipe de droit latin, et dans sa région. Les principaux documents attestant le culte du dieu sont des bas-reliefs avec représentations du cortège dionysiaque (Ier et IIIe s. ap. J.-C.), une statuette votive de Dionysos/Liber Pater (119 ap. J.-C.), un chapiteau d’ante avec masque de théâtre, ainsi qu’une tête de satyre et des statuettes en bronze de satyres.

A. NIKOLOSKA, « Dionysus and the Bacchis in Stobi », in E. MANEVA, V.LILČIĆ, D. MITREVSKI (éd.), Folia archaeologica Balkanica II, Stephanos Archaeologikos in Honorem Professoris Ivani Mikulčić, Skopje, 2012, p. 299–322.

178 07.02 – Orestis – Publiant un relief votif à Artémis avec inscription provenant de la région de l’Orestis et conservé au Musée Archéologique de Thessalonique, l’A. interprète l’épiclèse Sibonnikè, attestée ici pour la première fois, comme témoignage d’un culte local d’Artémis. Les inscriptions nous font connaître des cultes locaux de cette déesse ailleurs en Macédoine. On peut citer notamment Artémis Gourasia, Digaia Blaganitis, Bloureitis, Gazoreitis (ou Gazoria). K. CHATZINIKOLAOU, « “Ἀρτέμιδι Σιβοννικῇ…”. Περιπτώσεις τοπικών λατρειών Άρτεμης στη Μακεδονία », in P. ADAM-VELENI, K. TZANAVARI (éd.), supra, 06.10, p. 601–608. 179 07.03 – Édessa – Le culte de Dionysos paraît avoir été important à Édessa à l’époque impériale, malgré le nombre restreint des témoignages. La présence d’un culte public du dieu est suggérée par la présence de son effigie à l’intérieur d’un temple sur des monnaies de la cité frappées sous Septime Sévère. Une inscription de la fin du IIe ou du début du IIIe s. ap. J.-C. nous fait connaître une prêtresse de « Dionysos dieu ancestral » (τοῦ πατρίου θεοῦ Διονύσου). Un autre document attestant le culte et la fête de Dionysos à Edessa est sans doute le relief funéraire d’un porc représenté sous les roues d’une charrette traînée par quatre mulets. Il pourrait bien s’agir du « char du phallus » que le malheureux animal, originaire de Dalmatie, souhaitait voir, comme on le lit dans l’épigramme qui accompagne ce relief, et qui a fait couler beaucoup d’encre. Cette interprétation reprend une proposition faite par F. Chamoux. Il est permis de supposer que ce porc était un animal dressé que son maître produisait devant le public affluant aux fêtes religieuses et qui a été tué accidentellement pendant la phallophorie célébrée en l’honneur de Dionysos à Édessa. Une pareille phallophorie dionysiaque est attestée à Thessalonique. E. VOUTIRAS, « Η λατρεία του Διονύσου στην Έδεσσα », in P. ADAM-VELENI, K. TZANAVARI (éd.), supra,06.10, p. 563–568.

180 07.04 – Pydna – Publication d’une bague trouvée à Pydna, dans une tombe de femme de la deuxième moitié du IVe s. av. J.-C. La bague porte une inscription et un croissant, que l’A. interprète comme symbole lié au culte orphique. Ces deux éléments ont été rapportés à des dates différentes, après la fabrication de la bague. Le nom masculin inscrit sur la bague indique que son premier propriétaire fut un homme. L’A. pense que

Kernos, 27 | 2014 388

le croissant a été gravé par le deuxième propriétaire, qui était une femme initiée aux mystères orphiques. E.-B. TSIGARIDA, « Δαχτυλίδι με ορφικό συμβολισμό από το νεκροταφείο της αρχαίας Πύδνας », in P. ADAM-VELENI, K. TZANAVARI (éd.), supra,06.10, p. 503–508. 181 07.05 – Dion – L’A. résume les données archéologiques attestant la présence d’un lieu de culte de Déméter à Dion, dans l’aire des sanctuaires au sud du rempart méridional de la ville. Le culte a été pratiqué depuis le Ve s. av. J.-C. jusqu’à l’Antiquité tardive. Les fragments architecturaux mis au jour montrent l’existence de deux temples anciens, d’un oikos, d’une stoa d’époque hellénistique ainsi que d’un temple d’époque impériale. Les trouvailles, surtout des offrandes votives, fournissent des informations sur les pratiques cultuelles et les divinités associées au culte principal, notamment Artémis. Le voisinage du sanctuaire d’Asclépios indiquerait selon l’A. un rapport entre les deux cultes (cf. ChronARG [2011] 07.16). S. PINGIATOGLOU, « Το ιερό της Δήμητρος στο Δίον », in I. LEVENTI, Chr. MISTOPOULOU (éd.), Ιερά και λατρείες, supra 06.01, p. 201–224. 182 07.06 – Thessalonique – Rappel des recherches archéologiques qui mirent au jour, entre 1920 et 1940, les restes du sanctuaire des divinités égyptiennes (appelé « Sarapieion ») près de la principale entrée occidentale de la ville. Le sanctuaire a été fondé au IIIe s. av. J.-C. et continua à fonctionner jusqu’au début du IVe s. ap. J.-C. Les changements et les reconstructions pendant cette longue période furent considérables. De nombreuses sculptures et plus de 70 inscriptions soulignent l’importance du culte des divinités égyptiennes, auxquelles sont venues s’associer d’autres divinités. A. KOUKOUVOU, « Το Σαραπιείο.Ένα ιερό των Αιγυπτίων θεών αναδύεται μέσα από τις στάχτες της πόλης » / « The Sarapieion. The Sanctuary of the Egyptian Gods rises from the City’s Ashes », in P. ADAM-VELENI, A. KOUKOUVOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογία στα μετόπισθεν στη Θεσσαλονίκη των ταραγμένων χρόνων 1912–1922 / Archaeology behind Battle Lines in Thessaloniki of the Turbulent Years 1912–1922, Catalogue d’exposition 24.11.2012– 31.12.2013, Thessalonique, 2012, p. 105–111.

183 – Parmi les objets exposés il y a des statuettes et des figurines en terre cuite représentant des divinités (Inv. ΜΘ 62, ΜΘ 210, 81–82, ΜΘ 132–133 : Aphrodite, Attis, Télesphoros), des reliefs votifs (Inv. MΘ 106 : Apollon et Artémis) provenant de Thessalonique et de sa région ainsi qu’un ensemble de trouvailles du sanctuaire des divinités égyptiennes (Inv. ΜΘ 825–828, 833, 840–842, 4922), datant de la période hellénistique et de la période impériale. P. ADAM-VELENI, A. KOUKOUVOU (éd.), Αρχαιολογία στα μετόπισθεν στη Θεσσαλονίκη, supra, p. 128 no 5, p. 130 no 8, p. 138–139 nos 26–28, p. 195–201 nos 144–152.

184 – L’exposition comprend des autels funéraires du IIe et du IIIe s. ap. J.-C. avec représentations de défunts ayant les traits ou les attributs de divinités. (Inv. Ρ 1, Ρ 100, ΜΘ 6976, ΜΘ 9197, ΜΘ 10191, ΜΘ 6973). P. ADAM-VELENI, D. TERZOPOULOU (éd.), Αγρός, Οικία, Κήπος, Τόπος / Field, House, Garden, Grave, Catalogue d’exposition, Thessalonique, 2012, p. 297–300, nos 78–83.

185 – Notice sur les sanctuaires situés dans le secteur occidental de la ville de Thessalonique. Il est notamment question du sanctuaire des divinités égyptiennes et du temple ionique du début du Ve s. av. J.-C., transporté d’une autre localité.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 389

D. TERZOPOULOU, K. CHATZINIKOLAOU, « Δημόσιος και ιδιωτικός χώρος στη Θεσσαλονίκη των ρωμαϊκών χρόνων » / « Public and Private Space in Roman Thessaloniki », ibid., p. 69–71.

186 – Évocation de l’usage de représenter les défunts sous les traits ou avec les attributs de divinités dans les monuments funéraires de Macédoine. De telles représentations se retrouvent entre autres sur les autels funéraires de Thessalonique à partir du milieu du IIe s. ap. J.-C. Les types iconographiques les plus fréquents sont Aphrodite, Hermès, Héraclès, le Héros Cavalier ; d’autres, comme Isis, sont rares. P. ADAM-VELENI, « Μακεδονικοί βωμοί. Τιμητικοί και ταφικοί βωμοί των αυτοκρατορικών χρόνων από τη Θεσσαλονίκη » / « Macedonian Altars. Honorary and Funerary Altars of the Roman Imperial Age from Thessaloniki », ibid., p. 159–161.

187 – L’A. discute une série de fragments provenant de statues acrolithes de la période impériale trouvés à Thessalonique et explique le procédé de fabrication de ces œuvres. L’exemple le plus impressionnant est une copie de l’Athéna de Médicis. Quelques autres fragments de statues acrolithes sont : une statue d’Aphrodite découverte à proximité de la basilique paléochrétienne d’Acheiropoiétos (Inv. ΜΘ 2654), une tête d’Athéna (Inv. ΜΘ 883), la tête et le torse d’un dieu barbu. La fabrication de statues acrolithes s’est poursuivie jusqu’à l’interdiction de la religion antique par les empereurs chrétiens ; les dernières devraient dater du règne de Julien l’Apostat. G.I. DESPINIS, « Ακρόλιθα αγάλματα των ρωμαϊκών χρόνων », in Th. STEFANIDOU-TIVERIOU, P. KARANASTASSIS, D. DAMASKOS (éd.), Κλασική παράδοση και νεωτερικά στοιχεία στην πλαστική της ρωμαϊκής Ελλάδας, Actes du colloque international, Thessalonique 7–9 mai 2009, Thessalonique, 2012, p. 20–21, 30–33.

188 – Une statuette masculine en marbre sans tête provenant du sanctuaire des divinités égyptiennes de Thessalonique peut être identifiée comme représentation de Sarapis debout, iconographie étudiée naguère par Tran Tam Tinh. La sculpture, qui était probablement votive, peut être datée à l’aide de parallèles stylistiques au Ier siècle av. J.- C. et corrobore ainsi l’opinion, exprimée jadis par A. Michaelis, selon laquelle des statues de culte de Sarapis debout existaient déjà à l’époque hellénistique. Il est possible, bien que pas certain, que cette statuette ait reproduit la statue de culte hellénistique de Sarapis érigée dans le sanctuaire de Thessalonique à côté de celle d’Isis. E. VOUTIRAS, « Όρθιος Σάραπις από τη Θεσσαλονίκη », ibid., p. 265–272. 189 – Un réexamen des données archéologiques concernant le grand temple ionique mis au jour en 1936 et en 2000 dans la partie ouest de la ville, à l’angle des rues Dioikitiriou et Krystalli, amène l’A. à formuler de nouvelles propositions. Il est désormais clair que le temple a été construit sur un fondement d’époque romaine avec des pièces datant de la fin de l’archaïsme. La découverte dans le même terrain de statues d’empereurs romains, malheureusement sans leurs têtes, ainsi que d’une statue féminine, également acéphale, représentant Dea Roma au type d’Amazone, conduit l’A. à reconsidérer l’hypothèse d’E. Voutiras (ChronARG [2001], 07.3), selon laquelle ce temple serait celui d’Aphrodite, transporté de la cité voisine d’Aineia pour abriter le culte de Jules César divinisé en compagnie d’Aphrodite, son ancêtre mythique. La construction d’un temple du Divus Julius est attestée par une inscription aujourd’hui perdue datant de l’époque d’Auguste (IG X 2.1, 31). L’A. dissocie cette inscription du temple ionique, faisant valoir le fait qu’elle a été découverte à l’autre bout de la ville, et remarque que la statue de la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 390

déesse Rome, datant de l’époque d’Hadrien d’après son style, paraît être associée à la statue d’un empereur, sans doute Hadrien, représenté comme Zeus Aigiochos. Aussi propose-t-elle de voir dans ce temple un lieu dédié au culte de Zeus Eleutherios et de Rome, introduit en Macédoine après la victoire de Paul-Émile contre Persée à Pydna en 168 av. J.-C. et la fin de la monarchie. Thessalonique aurait érigé ce temple à l’occasion de la création par Hadrien du Panhellénion d’Athènes, dont elle était membre, remplaçant Zeus par l’empereur. Th. STEFANIDOU-TIVERIOU, « Τα λατρευτικά αγάλματα του ναού του Διός και της Ρώμης στη Θεσσαλονίκη », ibid., p. 273–286. 190 – L’A. publie une tête féminine couronnée d’épis de blé et de grappes de raisins, découverte remployée dans le rempart oriental de la ville, qu’elle interprète comme représentation de Tellus. La sculpture peut être datée par son style au temps d’Hadrien. Une analyse serrée des traits iconographiques de cette tête conduit à la conclusion qu’elle faisait partie d’un groupe statuaire auquel apartenaient aussi des personnifications des saisons portant des fruits. L’A. pense que ce groupe faisait écho à la propagande impériale de la felicitas temporum, promue de manière systématique sous Hadrien. B. SCHMIDT-DOUNA, « Γυναικεία κεφαλή από το ανατολικό τείχος της Θεσσαλονίκης », ibid., p. 287–296.

191 – Publication d’une statue de Dionysos juvénile nu, découverte dans une fouille de sauvetage au centre de Thessalonique. La tête porte une coiffure complexe avec nœud ainsi qu’une couronne de lierre. Il s’agit d’une variante d’un type statuaire de Dionysos (ou un satyre) au repos, assez répandu à l’époque impériale. Une analyse stylistique invite à dater cette statue dans une fourchette chronologique allant de la fin du règne d’Hadrien à celui d’Antonin le Pieux. E. TRAKOSOPOULOU-SALAKIDOU, « Άγαλμα Διονύσου των αυτοκρατορικών χρόνων στη Θεσσαλονίκη », ibid., p. 297–306. 192 – Publication d’une tête féminine du Musée Archéologique de Thessalonique, découverte dans les années 1970 lors de la fouille d’un terrain situé à l’extérieur des remparts de la ville. La tête, datable à l’époque hellénistique tardive, peut être identifiée, selon l’A., comme représentation de Cybèle en raison de la couronne de remparts qu’elle porte sur la tête. Le type icongraphique de Cybèle coiffée d’une haute couronne à tours apparaît à partir du IIIe s. av. J.-C. en Asie Mineure, sur le pourtour du Pont Euxin, ainsi qu’en Macédoine et en Thrace. La corona turrita marque le caractère de la déesse comme protectrice des villes fortifiées. B. SCHMIDT-DOUNA, « Κεφαλή με πυργωτό στέμμα από τη Θεσσαλονίκη », in M. TIVERIOS, P. NIGDELIS, P. ADAM-VELENI (éd.), Θρεπτήρια. Μελέτες για την αρχαία Μακεδονία, Thessalonique, 2012, p. 128–140.

193 07.07 – Messimeri (préfecture deThessalonique) – L’examen de quelques groupes d’objets provenant des fouilles menées par l’éphore des antiquités N. Kotzias dans le village de Mésiméri peu avant le début de la deuxième guerre mondiale a conduit l’A. à la conclusion qu’un sanctuaire de la période classique et hellénistique a existé à cet endroit. Ce sanctuaire était probablement dédié au culte de Déméter.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 391

E. KEFALIDOU, « “Ἐκ Μεσημερίου, προπολεμικῶς”. Ένα ιερό της αρχαίας Κρουσίδας και άλλα ευρήματα από τις Συλλογές του Αρχαιολογικού Μουσείου Θεσσαλονίκης », ibid., p. 414–462.

194 07.08 – Plana (préfecture de Chalcidique) – Publication d’une colonnette votive décorée avec les attributs de Zeus Hypsistos, confisquée avec d’autres objets antiques dans ce village. La colonnette porte la représentation en bas relief d’un aigle et d’un bucrane ainsi qu’une couronne de chêne décorée de pierres précieuses et accompagnée d’un foudre sommairement rendu. De pareilles couronnes se rencontrent sur des portraits de prêtres. L’A. pense que la colonette, produit d’un atelier local sans doute, avait été dédiée par un prêtre de Zeus Hypsistos. K. TZANAVARI, « Αναθηματικός κιονίσκος στον Δία Ύψιστο από τα Πλανά Χαλκιδικής », in P. ADAM-VELENI, K. TZANAVARI (éd.), supra, 06.10, p. 587–599.

195 07.09 – Stagire (préfecture de Chalcidique) – Présentation des premiers résultats de la fouille d’un temple de la deuxième moitié du VIe s. av. J.-C., dont les fondations ont été découvertes au sommet de la colline nord de la ville de Stagire. Les campagnes successives ont mis au jour des fragments d’architecture et de sculpture (métopes ou frise) de style ionien provenant d’un temple de l’époque archaïque tardive. Fondé sur des témoignages littéraires (surtout la vie d’Aristote de Diogène Laerce), l’A. identifie ce temple avec celui de Zeus Soter et Athéna Soteira. Aussi propose-t-il d’attribuer à Stagire une stèle inédite portant l’inscription ΔΙΟΣ ΣΩ|ΤΗΡΟΣ, conservée au Musée Archéologique de Thessalonique sans indication de provenance. L’hypothèse est séduisante, mais pour le moment invérifiable. K. SISMANIDIS, « Ο υστεροαρχαϊκός ναός του Διός Σωτήρος και της Αθηνάς Σωτείρας στα αρχαία Στάγειρα », in M. TIVERIOS, P. NIGDELIS, P. ADAM-VELENI (éd.), supra, 07.06, p. 400– 413.

196 07.10 – Sidirokastro – Site de « Mavros Vrachos » (préfecture de Serres) – Publication d’un relief votif en marbre représentant Pan et provenant d’un sanctuaire d’Apollon, des Nymphes et de Pan découvert en 2005. Le sanctuaire, qui appartient à la période impériale, a fonctionné du IIe au IVe s. ap. J.-C., quand il fut détruit. Le relief était placé dans une niche à côté de statuettes d’Apollon et des Nymphes. K. PERISTERI, « Ανάγλυφο Πάνα από το ιερό Απόλλωνα, Νυμφών και Πάνα στον “Μαύρο Βράχο” Σιδηροκάστρου », in P. ADAM-VELENI, K. TZANAVARI (éd.), supra, 06.10, p. 575–578. 197 07.11 – Angista (préfecture de Serres) – Publication d’un monument funéraire en forme de petit temple ionien prostyle datant de 140 ap. J.-C. Le monument, découvert en 1958 près de la gare d’Angista, est aujourd’hui restauré et exposé au Musée Archéologique de Kavala. Deux serpents barbus, enroulés autour de torches jouxtant les colonnes, sont peut-être des indices d’un culte chthonien. La partie supérieure des torches a une forme égyptisante avec des feuilles de paryrus et fait penser au culte d’Isis. L’A. suppose que le monument funéraire apartenait au prêtre d’Isis Lucius Titonius Suavis, dont le nom apparaît sur une inscription provenant du même site, voisin de la route antique menant de Philippes à Héraclée Sintique. Chr. IOAKEIMIDOU, « Ναόσχημο ταφικό μνημείο από την κοινότητα του σιδηροδρομικού σταθμού Αγγίστας Σερρών », in Th. STEFANIDOU-TIVERIOU, P. KARANASTASSIS, D. DAMASKOS (éd.), supra, 07.06, p. 373–383.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 392

[08. Thrace] [09. Îles de l’Égée] [10. Crète] [11. Chypre] [12. Asie mineure] 13. Grande-Grèce (Massimo Osanna et Ilaria Battiloro)

198 13.01 – Métaponte – Dans cette contribution, l’A. prend en considération le sanctuaire d’Artémis Hemera de Métaponte décrit par Bacchylide dans la 11e épinicie en l’honneur du pais Alexidamos. Le culte du lieu, centré sur la fonction coutrophique d’Artémis envers les filles de Proitos, est identique à celle qui est attestée à Lousoi en Arcadie. Le sanctuaire de Métaponte est à identifier, selon l’A., avec l’imposant espace sacré urbain de San Biagio alla Venella et est centré sur le sacellum, à laquelle s’est ajouté, au cours du IVe s. av. J.-C., un temple périptère. En outre, autour de la chapelle, ont été retrouvés de très nombreuses statuettes et d’autres types d’objets votifs, un indicateur de la centralité de cet édifice dans l’économie du sanctuaire. À la lumière de ces données, cette structure est interprétée par l’A. comme une fontaine monumentale, constituée d’une vasque rectangulaire fonctionnant comme citerne et de trois vasques destinées à mettre à la disposition des visiteurs l’eau de la citerne. Il s’agirait donc de la première attestation d’une fontaine archaïque naomorphe. L’usage des trois vasques de la fontaine renvoie à la version du mythe des Proitides transmise par Bacchylide, où la guérison des jeunes filles intervient grâce à un bain dans l’eau vive de Lousoi. Les vasques placées sur le côté de la fontaine auraient donc pour fonction de permettre ces ablutions. Ces éléments rendent particulièrement étroite la similitude entre le sanctuaire de Métaponte et celui de Lousoi, où l’on retrouve le caractère central de la fontaine et du temple dans la célébration du rite. Il n’est pas surprenant que le même schéma soit attesté dans l’autre colonie achéenne de Posidonia-Paestum, où l’on trouve un petit temple accolé à l’Apollonion (vraisemblablement dédié à Artémis Hemera), près duquel se trouve une vasque-fontaine. M. TORELLI, « Bacchilide, le Pretidi e Artemide Hemera a Metaponto. Il culto e la krene naomorfa di S. Biagio alla Venella », in Tra protostoria e storia: studi in onore di Loredana Capuis, Roma, 2011 (Antenor Quaderni, 20), p. 209–221.

199 13.02 – Tarente – Soprintendenza per i Beni Archeologici della Puglia et Università di Roma, ‘Sapienza’ – Dans le cadre du congrès annuel de Tarente, le surintendant a présenté la synthèse des mises à jour des recherches dirigées par E. Lippolis dans la zone du sanctuaire de la « Sorgente di Saturo ». Les recherches, destinées à mieux comprendre l’organisation de l’espace sacré, ont révélé que la « chapelle » s’ouvre sur un espace ouvert, délimité sur les côtés S et O par des édifices provisoirement interprétés comme des salles de banquet. T.E. CINQUANTAQUATTRO, « Attività della Soprintendenza per i Beni Archeologici della Puglia », in Alle origini della Magna Grecia : mobilità, migrazioni, fondazioni: Atti del

Kernos, 27 | 2014 393

Cinquantesimo Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia (Taranto, 1–4 ottobre 2010), Taranto, 2011, p. 1226–1228.

200 13.03 – Siris-Herakleia–L’objet de cette contribution est le dépôt votif découvert en 2003 sur la propriété Favale, dans le secteur N de la « cité basse » d’Héraclée. Le matériel votif a été retrouvé à l’intérieur d’une fosse délimitée par des pierres et des briques, et est principalement formé de coroplastique, et tout particulièrement de pinakes. La majeure partie des exemplaires date du IVe s. av. J.-C et fut vraisemblablement produite dans des ateliers héracléotes, comme l’atteste la comparaison avec les matrices de pinakes mises au jour sur l’acropole. Les prototypes figurés doivent en revanche être cherchés à Tarente et à Métaponte. D’un point de vue iconographique, c’est le type du banqueteur couché sur une klinè qui est le mieux attesté. D’autres objets figuratifs, moins bien représentés, sont des cavaliers, des figures masculines assises et debout, ainsi que les Dioscures. Les objets votifs trouvés peuvent être associés à la sphère chthonienne, cet aspect étant souligné par l’association des pinakes avec des « gobelets » miniatures retrouvés tête-bêche enfoncés en terre. Le dépôt de la propriété Favale s’inscrit dès lors dans le contexte de ceux mis au jour, en particulier, dans la zone O de l’acropole et dans la « cité basse », à une période antérieure à l’implantation des quartiers d’habitation sur la terrasse S de la cité. S. BIANCO, G.S. CRUPI, M.D. PASQUINO, « Il deposito votivo di proprietà Favale: la coroplastica », in M. OSANNA, G. ZUCHTRIEGEL (éd.), Αμφι σιριος ροας: nuove ricerche su Eraclea e la Siritide, Venosa, 2012, p. 161–180.

201 – Présentation des résultats d’une analyse de la vaisselle et des offrandes votives mises au jour dans l’espace sacré du « Vallo di Eraclea ». L’objectif de cette recherche est d’éclairer les pratiques cultuelles attestées et les changements perceptibles dans les formes du rite. La période d’activité du sanctuaire va du IVe au IIe-Iers. av. J.-C. La majeure partie du matériel date des années comprises entre le milieu du IVe et le IIIe s. av. J.-C. À cette période, on trouve surtout de la céramique à vernis noir et de la céramique commune, avec une majorité de céramique de table. Parmi les bibelots du sanctuaire se trouvent, en outre, des vases à onguent, des poids de métier à tisser et des toupies. La céramique commune et l’abondance de la céramique de table renvoient à la consommation de repas rituels qui devaient prendre place dans l’édifice C (doté de trois pièces l’une à côté de l’autre, avec une entrée décentrée). Aux rites qui impliquent l’usage de l’eau renvoient à la fois des fragments de louterion et la présence de cruches et d’hydries. Enfin, un fragment de pinax représentant une figure féminine qui porte une table à offrandes fait référence à la pratique d’offrir des repas et des prémices sur des tables mobiles. La phase la plus tardive du complexe est marquée par l’apparition d’offrandes d’un type nouveau, à savoir des lampes. En ce qui concerne l’interprétation de la nature du culte, la prédominance de terres cuites votives représentant Artémis Bendis rend plausible l’hypothèse que le sanctuaire soit dédié à cette divinité. La présence d’ex-voto anatomiques s’accorderait bien à l’aspect salvateur d’Artémis, déesse liée à l’eau et à ses propriétés guérisseuses. La présence de deux chapelles pourrait en outre indiquer qu’une autre divinité accompagnait Artémis (Apollon ?). L. D’ESPOSITO, G. GALIOTO, « L’area sacra del “Vallo” ad Eraclea », ibid., p. 143–160.

202 – L’A. présente brièvement les résultats de l’analyse des dépôts votifs mis au jour dans le sanctuaire de Déméter à Héraclée depuis les années 1970. Les attestations du culte, sans doute dédié à Déméter depuis la fin du IIIe s. av. J.-C., semblent s’épuiser à partir du

Kernos, 27 | 2014 394

IIe s. av. J.-C. Le sanctuaire se compose de petits bâtiments carrés (oikoi) avec des fondations en cailloux de rivière et des élévations en briques crues, répartis sur quatre terrasses. Tout l’espace du sanctuaire est parsemé de dépôts votifs constitués de fosses pleines et couvertes de tuiles. La nature des offrandes votives laisse entrevoir une différence entre la phase archaïque et la phase classico-hellénistique du sanctuaire. Si, durant la phase archaïque, les terres cuites figurées et la céramique miniature sont éparses, à la période postérieure, le matériel coroplastique augmente substantiellement et se caractérise par une typologie variée, au point de faire penser à la présence d’autres cultes dédiés à des divinités comme Artémis et Aphrodite. En outre, si la découverte d’ossements animaux et d’instruments de sacrifice renvoie à la pratique du sacrifice sanglant suivi d’un banquet rituel, la présence de « jouets » fait référence à des rites de passage à l’âge adulte, tandis que les tablettes de bronze portant des inscriptions témoignent de la pratique des affranchissements sacrés. V. GERTL, « Il santuario di Demetra ad Eraclea: offerte votive e aspetti cultuali », ibid., p. 119–142.

203 – Soprintendenza per i Beni Archeologici della Basilicata et Université d’Innsbruck – Présentation synthétique des mises à jour des recherches conduites par l’Université d’Innsbruck dans le sanctuaire de Déméter à Héraclée. Au N des sources a été dégagé un édifice de grandes dimensions (oikos H), aux côtés duquel ont été déposées des offrandes. Le sanctuaire a été surtout fréquenté aux périodes classique et hellénistique, tandis que le matériel relatif à la période archaïque est peu représenté. A. DE SIENA, « Attività della Soprintendenza per i Beni Archeologici della Basilicata », in Alle origini della Magna Grecia, supra 13.02, p. 1274–1276.

204 13.04 – Locres – L’A. analyse les rites de passage féminins associés au culte des Nymphes, en prenant Locres comme cas d’étude. Les lieux de culte liés aux Nymphes sont situés à l’entour d’édifices dédiés à Déméter, Perséphone, Apollon, Artémis et Zeus. Plutôt que d’être les propriétaires du culte, ces divinités assument « una funzione di profilassi all’incontro col sacro » (p. 222), et sont principalement préposées aux rites prénuptiaux, surtout féminins. Le sanctuaire de la Grotta Caruso à Locres, analysé dans cet article, est centré sur cet aspect du culte. Le matériel votif retrouvé là est daté entre le début du IVe et le IIIe s., et ne dépasse pas le milieu du IIe s. L’analyse de l’espace sacré et des offrandes votives permet de reconstruire la liturgie associée au culte, qui s’articule en quatre phases : entrée dans le sanctuaire, offrande de dons, bain rituel, passage final de la fidèle du stade de nymphe à celui d’épouse. La Grotta Caruso s’insère dans un système complexe de lieux de culte dédiés aux Nymphes, tous centrés sur la ritualisation des passages. L’accent mis sur les rites de passage féminins peut s’expliquer par l’importance que revêt la femme dans la société locrienne depuis la fondation de la colonie. F. PIZZI, « L’acqua delle Ninfe. Il caso ‘complesso’ di Locri », in A. CALDERONE (éd.), Cultura e religione delle acque: atti del Convegno interdisciplinare “Qui fresca l’acqua mormora…” (S. Quasimodo, Sapph. Fr. 2,5), Messina 29–30 marzo 2011, Roma, 2012 (Archaeologica, 167), p. 221–234.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 395

Index géographique (Alexis D’Hautcourt)

205 Acarnanie, Épire, Illyrie méridionale, îles ioniennes 05.01–05.03 Acarnanie 05.04 Paléros 05.04 Épire 02.40 05.05 Bouthrotos 05.05 Chaonie 05.02 Dodone 05.05 Kassopè 05.05 Molossie 05.07 Rhodotopi 05.05 05.07 Thesprotie 05.06 Îles ioniennes Corcyre 05.02 05.10 05.13 Illyrieméridionale Amantia 05.01 05.05 05.08–09 05.11 Ambracie 05.13 Apollonia 02.40 05.10 Aulon 05.11 Belsh 05.08 Dyrrhachion 05.08 05.12 Épidamne 05.01 05.08 05.12 Gradishtë 05.08 Issa 06.09 Orikos 05.11 Treport 05.11 Zgërdhesh 05.08

206 Asie Mineure Xanthos 02.40

207 Athènes 01.00–09 06.09 07.06

208 Attique 05.12 Acharnai 01.10 Dionysos 01.12 Eleusis 01.00 01.14 02.40 Halai Araphenidès 01.11 Ikarion 01.12 Kastella 01.18 Kathyperthen Pergasé 01.13 Kératsini 01.14 Loutsa 01.11 Marathon 01.15 Mt Hymette 01.16 Neo Phalero 01.17 Pirée 01.18 Pyrgiakioni 01.20 Rhamnonte 01.19 Salamine 01.20 Voula 01.21 Vouliagmeni 01.22

209 Béotie Thespies 04.04 Hélicon 04.01

210 Étolie 04.04 Kalydon 04.06

211 Eubée Chalcis 04.04

212 Grande-Grèce 05.01 05.12 Herakleia 13.03 Locres 13.04 Métaponte 05.10 13.01 13.03 Paestum 13.01 Poseidonia 13.01 Siris 13.03 Tarente 05.10 13.02–03

213 Îles de la mer Égée Égine 02.49 06.10 Kos 06.10 Santorin 02.34

214 Locride 04.04 Aghios Konstantinos 04.04 Daphnous 04.04 Mitrou 04.05

215 Macédoine 07.00 Angista 07.11 Dion 07.05 Édessa 07.03 Messimeri 07.07 Orestis 07.02 Pella 06.01 Plana 07.08 Pydna 07.04 Sidirokastro 07.10 Stagire 07.09 Stobi 07.01 Thessalonique 07.03 07.06

216 Mégaride Mégare 01.23

217 Péloponnèse06.00 Achaïe Aigeira 02.53 Aigion 02.47 Ano Diakopto 02.52 Ano Mazaraki 02.46 Antheia 02.43 Boura 02.52 Helikè 02.48 Kalavryta 02.50 Keryneia 02.49 Lousoi 02.51 Mamousia Aigialeias 02.49 Nikoleika 02.48 Mt Panachaiko 02.45 Patras 02.44 Petrochori 02.42 Rhypai 02.45 Sympoliteia 02.45 Théa 02.43 Arcadie Alphée 02.18 Arachamitai 02.17 Bathos 02.18 Episkopi 02.14 Lousoi 13.01 Lykoa 02.17 Mavria 02.18 Mont Lycée 02.19 Pallantio 02.16 Tégée 02.15Argolide Argos 02.07 02.12 06.09 Prosymna 02.11 Épidaure 02.13Corinthie 02.02 Mt Arachnaion 02.02 Cléonées 02.06 Corinthe 02.05 02.07 05.02 05.10 05.12 06.09 Evagelistria 02.02 Isthmia 02.04 Némée 02.02 02.07 Perachora 02.03 Phénéos 02.09 Mt Phokas 02.02 Sicyone 02.10 04.04 06.09 Titanè 02.08 Tretos 02.02 Élide Élis 02.40 Lepreo 02.38 Olympie 02.40 05.10 Perivolia 02.36 Phigalie 02.36 Prasidaki 02.37 Samikon 02.39 Tragano 02.41 Triphyliens 02.39 Laconie Aghia Kyriaki 02.23 Aghios Georgios 02.27 Amyclées 02.24 Argilia 02.30 Boia 02.27 Daphni 02.25 Karitsa 02.26 Kotronas 02.29 Krokées 02.25 Magoula 02.21 Malea 02.28 Sela 02.20 Sparte 02.22 Taygète 02.20 Teuthronè 02.29Messénie Akovitika 02.31 Ano Melpeia 02.35 Ithomè 02.34 Mt Ithomè 02.34 Messène 02.34 Romanos 02.33 Thouria 02.31–32

218 Phocide 04.04 Ambrossos 04.02 Asprovryssi Malandrinou 04.00 Delphes 04.01 Distomo 04.02 Mt Parnasse 04.01 Tithorea 04.03

219 Phthiotide, Thessalie 06.00 Démétrias 06.01 Dimini 06.02 Dolichi 06.04 Échinos 06.03 Élatée 04.03 Iolcos 06.02 Kastri Livadiou 06.04 Kastro Kallithéa 06.05 Marmariani 06.06

Kernos, 27 | 2014 396

Mélitaia 06.07 Neo Monastiri 06.10 Pharsala 06.08 Phères 06.09 Proerna 06.10 Soros 06.11 Velestino 06.09 Vyzitsa 06.12

220 Sicile 05.12 Syracuse 06.09

221 Thrace Philippopolis 07.00 Plovdiv 07.00 Sandanski 07.00

Index thématique (Alexis D’Hautcourt)

222 ablutions 13.01

223 accouchement 06.03

224 acropole 01.02 02.05–06 02.09 02.12 06.03–04

225 affranchissement 13.03

226 agora 01.03 02.02 02.06 02.34 02.37

227 amphore — représentation 02.22

228 amulette 06.11

229 animal – ossements 01.06 02.32

230 animal – représentation aigle 07.08 cerf 01.01 cochon 01.14 06.01 colombe 01.14 06.11 hippocampe 06.11 mulet 07.03 oiseau 01.06 01.14 porc 07.03 porcelet 02.29 serpent 02.24 06.05 serpent barbu 04.03 07.11 taureau 01.02 cornes 01.13 ; voir figurine, statuette

231 arme 02.40 bouclier 02.40 casque 02.40 hache double 06.11 pointe de flèche en silex 06.11 pointe de lance 02.35

232 auteurs anciens – Appien 05.12 Bacchylide 13.01 Diogène Laërte 07.09 Euripide 01.20 Pausanias 02.40 02.04 02.10 02.17–18 02.34 04.01 04.03 Plutarque 05.07 Strabon 02.38

233 association cultuelle 05.04

234 astragale 02.32 04.01

235 atelier 02.07 02.12

236 autel 01.03 01.16 02.02 02.10–12 02.22 02.36 02.40 02.43 02.48–49 04.04 05.06 05.08 06.01 06.09 archaïque 01.09 autel des Douze Dieux 01.03 funéraire 07.06 miniature 06.04 orthogonal 01.02 portatif 02.29

237 bain rituel 13.04

238 bains 02.17

239 banquet 02.02 02.04–05 02.22 02.48 04.05 05.08 06.11 13.02–03 funéraire 01.01

240 base 01.02–03 modifiée 01.02 de statue 01.03

241 basilique01.21

242 bijoux 01.14 02.48 05.12 06.11 anneau 06.00 06.11 bague 07.04 boucle d’oreille 01.04 06.11 bronze 02.41 épingle 06.11

243 blé 07.06

244 bobine 06.11

245 bûcher 02.47 05.13

246 butin 05.10

247 cénotaphe 01.20

Kernos, 27 | 2014 397

248 céramique – amphore 01.06 02.04 02.51 04.02 05.12 06.01 assiette 01.06 05.12 Attique 02.46 bol 02.46 bol à relief 05.12 canthare 01.04 01.18 02.41 02.46 cotyle 02.09 coupe à boire 05.13 coupe à libation 05.13 coupe moulée 02.32 coupe peinte 06.02 cratère 01.04 cruche 13.03 de cuisine 02.48 06.11 éginète 04.05 épinétron 01.14 à figures rouges 02.09 05.12 gobelet miniature 13.03 gobelet phocien 04.05 hydrie 13.03 hydriskos 02.34 kernos 01.04 kothon 06.09 krateriskos 01.14 kyathion 06.02 kylix 01.06 04.05 06.02 lagynos 02.51 lécythe aryballisque 06.09 lebes gamikos 01.14 lécythe 01.06 01.10 02.41 02.46 05.12 lekanis 01.06 01.14 loutrophore 01.14 miniature 01.10 01.14 02.17 02.22 02.28 02.34–35 02.37 02.41 02.43 02.49 04.05 05.08 05.12 06.11 œnochoé 01.04 01.06 phiale 01.04 plat 02.46 pot à cuisiner 01.06 pyxis 01.14 06.05 sans couvercle 06.05 skyphos 01.06 02.07 02.11 02.20 02.46 05.12 de stockage 06.11 de table 02.48 13.03 vase 02.43–44 vase à boire 04.05 06.01 06.11 vase à décor lustré mycénien 04.05 vase miniature 01.03 01.05 vase à onguent 13.03 vase à parfum 05.08 vase vitrifié en relief 02.20 vase votif 05.08 vernis noir 02.32 05.12 06.09 13.03 atelier de céramique 02.14

249 céramique – représentation canthare 05.10 œnochoé 02.24 phiale 05.10 vase à boire 02.24

250 chiton 05.10

251 ciste mystique 01.01

252 colonie 05.02–03 05.10 05.13

253 coquillage 02.32 04.05 06.11

254 corne d’abondance 05.10

255 cortège dionysiaque 07.01

256 couronne de chêne 07.08

257 course de chars 02.48

258 culte des ancêtres 02.15 des archegetai 06.01 chthonien 01.22 07.11 13.03 domestique 01.03 06.01 06.05 héroïque 01.20 02.07 02.22 02.24 impérial 01.00 01.19 initiatique 06.06 des ktistai 06.01 pour les marins 02.31 orphique 07.04 public 07.03 royal 06.01 de sommet 02.02 continuité de culte 02.52

259 danse 06.09 06.11

260 déesses, dieux, figures mythologiques

261 Achille 05.10

262 Adara 06.06

263 Agamemnon 02.24

264 Ajax 01.20 05.10

265 Alaia 06.06

266 Alexandra 02.24

267 Alexandre 05.10

268 Antigonos 06.01

269 Aphaia 02.49

270 Aphrodite 01.01 01.03 01.05 01.13 02.07 05.08 06.01 06.03 06.11 07.06 13.03 Hégémoné 01.03 Pandemos 05.08

Kernos, 27 | 2014 398

271 Apollon 01.09 02.10 04.01 05.02 05.06 05.10 06.11 07.06 07.10 13.03–04 Amycléen 02.24 Proposios 01.16 Zostèr 01.22

272 Aristè-Kallistè 01.05

273 Aristogéiton 01.01

274 Artémis 01.01 01.14 02.11–13 02.17 02.22 02.29 02.46 02.51 04.02 05.01–04 05.07–08 05.12–13 06.03 06.07 07.00 07.02 07.05–06 13.03–04 Aontia 02.46 02.48 Bendis 13.03 Bloureitis 07.02 Digaia Blaganitis 07.02 Ennodia 06.07 Gazoreitis 07.02 Gazoria 07.02 Gourasia 07.02 Hemera 02.51 13.01 Issoria 02.29 Lykoatis 02.17 Orthia 02.22 02.24 Pheraia 06.09 Phylake 06.06 Sibonnike 07.02 Soteira 05.12 Tauropole 01.11

275 Asclépios 01.01 02.08 02.21 02.32 02.34 04.04 05.05 06.01 06.07

276 Athéna 01.01 01.15 02.06 02.37 04.02 05.11 06.01 07.06 Alea 02.15 Chalkioikos 02.24 Hippia 01.10 Ilias 04.00 Ince 01.03 Nikè 01.02 Polias 02.12 Promachos 04.01 Soteira 07.09

277 Attis 07.06

278 Basileus 02.40

279 Bendis 07.00 voir Artémis

280 Bès 05.10

281 Borée 06.07

282 Cassandre 02.24

283 Cerbère 02.40

284 Chiron 06.12

285 Courètes 02.34

286 Cybèle 01.05 07.06

287 Deiphobos 05.10

288 Déméter 01.01 01.03 01.10 02.05 02.40 05.08 06.01 06.07 06.09–10 07.05 07.07 13.03–04 Chamyne 02.40 Poteriophoros 02.43 Thesmophoros 06.01

289 Démétrios 06.01

290 Diane 07.00

291 Dieux égyptiens 06.03 07.06

292 Diomède 05.10

293 Dionysos 01.03 01.11–13 01.15 01.20 06.01 07.01 07.03 07.06

294 Dioscures 02.21–22 13.03

295 Énée 05.10

296 Ennodia 06.07

297 Éos 02.40

298 Éros 06.03 06.11

299 Euripide 01.20

300 Grandes Déesses 02.18

301 Hadrien 07.06

302 Harpocrate 06.03

303 Hécate 05.12 06.01

Kernos, 27 | 2014 399

304 Hélénos 05.10

305 Héphaïstos 01.03

306 Héra 02.03 02.12–13 Argeia 02.11

307 Héraclès 01.15 07.06 Kynagidas 06.04

308 Hermès 01.14 02.32 05.06 06.01 06.07 07.06 Kriophore 01.03 Propylaios 01.01

309 Héros cavalier 07.06

310 Hygiéia 01.01

311 Hygie 02.32

312 Ilithyie 02.34

313 Isis 04.03 05.10 06.03 07.06 07.11

314 Jules César 07.06

315 Kephisos 01.17

316 Korè 01.03 02.05 02.40 06.01 06.09

317 Leukothea 06.07

318 Liber Pater 07.01

319 Lilla 06.06

320 Lillaias 06.06

321 Memnon 05.10

322 Ménade 06.01

323 Ménélas 05.10

324 Mère des dieux 02.22

325 Mithra 02.47

326 Mogga 06.06

327 Muses 04.01

328 Naia 02.29

329 Némésis 01.19

330 Nikè 06.11

331 Nymphes 01.06 01.14 02.10 07.10 13.04

332 Opheltès 02.07

333 Osiris 05.10

334 Palaimon 02.04

335 Pan 01.14 04.01 07.10

336 Parthenos Thémis 05.06

337 Pasikrata 06.01

338 Pean 02.25

339 Pélops 02.40

340 Perséphone 06.01 13.04

341 Plouton 02.40 06.01

Kernos, 27 | 2014 400

342 Poséidon 01.03 02.04 02.31 02.39 02.48 06.07 Helikonios 02.48

343 Proitides 13.01

344 Psychè 06.03

345 Rome 07.06

346 Sarapis 07.06

347 Satyre 01.03 07.01

348 Seragga 01.18

349 Sérapis 04.03

350 Silène 05.10

351 Sphinx 01.19

352 Telesphoros 07.06

353 Tellus 07.06

354 Thétis 02.40 06.11

355 Ulysse 05.10

356 Zeus 02.02 02.07 02.40 06.01 13.04 Aigiochos 07.06 Areios 05.07 Eleuthérios 01.03 07.06 Hypsistos 07.08 Ithomatas 02.34 Ktesios 06.05 Larisaios 02.12 Lykaios 02.19 Meilichios 04.03 Othrios 06.07 Soter 06.07 07.09 Thaulios 06.08

357 diakonos 01.02

358 divinité synnaos 01.19 synthronos 01.19

359 eau 02.07 05.13

360 enfant 06.03

361 entrée dans un sanctuaire 13.04

362 éphèbe 05.12

363 ex-voto et objets de culte 02.47 04.04 06.02 06.04 07.05 13.01 13.03–04 anatomique 13.03 arme 02.04 colonnette 07.08 couronne votive miniature en plomb 02.17 dépôt 01.03 02.12 02.22 02.24 02.34 02.37 02.41 06.09 13.03 feuille en bronze 02.40 feuille d’or 06.00 gorgoneion de bouclier 02.40 maquette 01.03 modèle en bronze 01.01 modèle de chariot 02.48 modèle réduit 02.07 modèle réduit architectural 02.48 modèle de temple 02.12 05.06 monument votif 05.08 naïskos 01.05 offrande 01.19 perirrhanterion 02.43 phiale en bronze 02.37 06.11 pinax 01.06 02.20 02.37 02.41 13.03 plaque 01.03 02.24 06.01 moule de plaque 06.01 plaque en bronze 02.35 plaque en relief 06.01 06.04 plateau d’offrandes miniature 06.11 protomé 02.22 05.08 05.12 relief 01.01 02.24 02.29 05.06 06.03 07.00 07.02 07.06 07.10 relief funéraire 07.03 roue métallique 04.01 sculpture 07.06 siège miniature 06.11 stèle 06.01 06.04 stèle de cavalier 06.04 table cultuelle 01.03 table d’offrandes 04.03 tablette 01.03 tablette de bronze 13.03 terre cuite 02.04 trapezophore 04.03 trépied 02.04 02.10 02.31 04.04 vase en bronze 02.09 02.44 vase de métal 05.06 vase en verre 01.14 02.20 02.41 ; voir arme, astragale, bijoux, bobine, couronne, figurine, fusaïole, lampe, os, poids, poupée, relief, sceau, sculpture, statue, stèle, talisman, toupie

364 fécondité 05.13

365 fête 01.00 07.03 Dionysies rurales 01.11 Grandes Dionysies 01.08 Epitaphia 01.01 Hephaistia 01.03 à mystères 02.18 Panathénées 01.01 Phallophorie 07.03 Pohoidaia 02.31 Poseidaia 02.31

Kernos, 27 | 2014 401

366 fidèles 05.12 06.11

367 figurine 01.01–02 01.04–06 01.10 01.13–14 02.17 02.33–34 02.40–41 02.43–44 02.46 02.49 04.01 04.04 05.01 05.06 05.08 05.10 05.12 06.01 06.11 07.06 anakalypsis 06.11 animal 02.23 04.01 banqueteur 02.22 05.08 bélier 02.46 bovin 02.34 06.02 bronze 02.15 02.35 Cavalier 02.04 02.07 Cerf 07.00 cheval 02.04 02.34 02.48 chien 02.46 07.00 chlamys 06.01 couronne 06.11 courotrophe 02.22 danseur 02.07 06.11 danseuse 06.09 fauve 02.46 femme 02.15 02.34 02.46 06.09 06.11 guerrier 02.35 hydrie 02.34 hydrophore 02.43 06.11 kausia 06.01 06.11 lion 02.07 moule 05.06 nourrisson 02.34 oiseau 02.07 02.41 02.46 peinte 06.02 plomb 06.11 porcelet 02.34 potnia theron 02.33 ; voir statue, statuette

368 fusaïole 06.11

369 genos 01.06 Konéidai 01.06

370 guerre de Troie 02.40

371 héros 02.40

372 historiographie 05.09

373 iconographie 05.10 05.13

374 inscription 01.02–04 01.08–10 01.13 01.18–19 02.12 02.22 02.29 02.31–32 02.34 02.40 02.43 04.01 05.12–13 06.01–02 06.04 06.06 06.10–11 07.02–04 07.06 07.09 13.03 dédicace 01.03 graffito 01.18 02.10–11 02.32 rupestre 01.06

375 jouet 13.03

376 lampe 01.04 02.46 04.01 06.11 13.03

377 libation 06.11 d’huile 02.02

378 marécages 02.31

379 masque 02.40 06.11 de théâtre 07.01

380 miroir 01.04

381 monnaie 02.32 02.34 02.41 04.01 04.04 05.12 06.11

382 monument chorégique 01.02 01.08

383 monument funéraire 07.11

384 mystères orphiques 07.04

385 navire panathénaïque 01.01

386 nécropole 04.01 05.13

387 nourrisson 06.11

388 oracle 02.02 04.01

389 os – objet 02.22

390 Panhellenion 07.06

391 Panthéon 05.03

392 peplos 02.34

393 personnages historiques Alexandre le Grand 06.03 Antigonos 06.01 Antonin le Pieux 01.00 Appia Regilla 02.40 Bryaxis (sculpteur) 01.03 Claude 01.19 Démétrios 06.01 Démétrios Poliorketes 04.04 Hadrien 01.00 Harmodios 01.01 Hérode Atticus 02.40 Jules César 07.06 Livie 01.19 Marc Aurèle 01.00 Nikias 01.02 Nikomachos 01.02 Pisistrate le Jeune 01.09 Trajan 01.00 Xeniades 01.17 Xenokrateia 01.17

Kernos, 27 | 2014 402

394 poids de métier à tisser 06.01 06.11 13.03

395 poupée 01.14

396 prêtre 01.00 01.05 06.04 07.08 Prêtresse 01.05

397 procession 02.35 06.00

398 protection des enfants 06.11

399 protection des villes fortifiées 07.06

400 raisins 06.01 07.06

401 relief 01.03

402 relique 06.00 06.11

403 remploi chrétien 01.21 02.06 02.24

404 repas rituel 13.03

405 représentation des défunts sous les traits de divinités 07.06

406 rite d’abandon 05.10 funéraire 05.13 de maturité 06.11 à mystères 02.04 de passage 01.11 13.03–04 prénuptial 13.04

407 rituel accompli sur le lieu de travail pour protéger les artisans et leurs entreprises 01.03

408 sacrifice 01.03 02.02 02.43 02.48 04.04 13.03 gâteau sacrificiel 02.40

409 sanctuaire, architecture, style et structures — abaton 04.04 abside double 02.48 acrotère 01.19 adyton 04.01 05.06 amphiprostyle 05.05 anathyrosis 04.00 antéfixe 06.11 architrave 01.20 baignoire 01.18 banc 01.20 06.11 barrière 04.01 base monumentale 04.04 en bois 02.45 06.11 bosquet 01.13 bothros 01.04 04.04 briques crues 02.48 06.11 13.03 bucrane 07.08 calcaire 02.50 canalisation 02.36 cavité 01.23 cavité mégarienne 01.23 cella 02.53 06.11 chambre 01.18 chambre creusée dans la roche 02.47 chambre souterraine 01.23 chapiteau 02.22 02.37 chapiteau d’ante 07.01 chenal 06.11 citerne 02.03 colonnade 04.01 06.11 colonnade intérieure 02.33 02.37 02.47 colonnade périphérique 05.05 colonne 01.10 02.48 06.11 colonne triangulaire 04.01 cour 01.18 crampon 04.00 cuvette 01.03 01.20 01.22 dallage 01.03 dalle 02.37 02.47 04.01 distyle in antis 02.07 dorique 02.35 02.37 02.48– 50 enclos sacre 04.02 enduit 06.11 enkoimeterion 04.04 entrée 06.11 escalier 01.20 01.23 eschara 04.04 06.09 06.11 euthynteria 02.37 exèdre 01.20 fontaine 01.20 fontaine monumentale 13.01 fosse 04.04 13.03 four de potier 02.40 foyer 06.05 frise 07.09 fronton 01.02 02.40 02.49 04.01 géométrique 02.48 grotte 01.14 01.18 01.20 02.10 04.01 06.12 hekatompedos 02.45 hestiatorion 02.17 hypèthre 04.04 06.11 ionien 02.34 07.09 07.11 ionique 07.06 katagogeion 04.04 kerkide 01.10 kotyliskos 04.04 krepis 02.34 02.37 02.45 05.08 lieux de stockage 02.04 lingot en plomb 02.47 loutron 04.04 maison de culte 06.09 métope 02.40 07.09 mosaïque 01.18 mur préhistorique 02.37 naïskos 01.20 04.04 05.05 naïskos in antis 04.04 naos 04.01 04.04 05.06 non périptère 05.05 06.07 oikos 06.11 07.05 13.03 opisthodome 02.37 orthostate 02.34 04.03 orthostate opisthographe 04.03 palmette 06.11 peinture murale 02.53 péribole 01.05 01.20 02.36 02.42 péribole double 04.02 périptère 05.05 13.01 péristasis 02.45 02.49 pernette tripode 04.02 pilier 01.03 pilier monolithique 01.23 plâtre 01.20 porte 01.16 04.01 portique 01.18 pronaos 02.37 02.47 04.01 04.04 05.06 06.11 prostasis 02.34 prostyle 01.16 07.11 pteroma 04.01 rampe 02.37 route 02.42 route pavée 06.11 sacellum 13.01 salle de banquet 05.08 sekos 02.10 02.34 02.37 02.42 02.47 semi-hypèthre 06.11 seuil 02.22 sol rouge 02.40 stoa 01.16 02.17 07.05 stockage d’aliments 06.11 stockage des offrandes 05.05 06.11 stylobate 02.47 temenos 01.02 01.20 02.19 04.01–02 06.11 terrassement 02.48 terrasse 02.26 terre crue 02.45 terre

Kernos, 27 | 2014 403

cuite architecturale 02.12 02.48 05.08 tétrastyle 01.16 toit 06.11 trésor 05.05 06.11 tripartite 06.00 trois nefs 02.47 trompe-l’œil 02.53 trou de poteau 06.11 tuf 02.47 tuile 01.06 01.11 02.17 02.20 02.37 04.02 04.04–05 05.11 06.11 13.03 tuile en marbre 02.49 tuyaux 01.02 vasque 13.01 voie en cailloutis 02.12

410 sanctuaires (événements) abandon 06.11 en construction 06.09 déclassement 05.05 incendie 02.04 02.37 02.46 restauration 01.03 séisme 02.05 02.37 02.46 06.11 transport d’une autre localité 07.06

411 sanctuaires (types) Artémision 05.01 05.08 05.12 Asclépieion 02.34 04.04 06.07 de confins 02.20 02.30 domestique 02.21 06.02 Éleusinion 01.01 Érechthéion 01.01 extraurbain 02.10 04.03 fédéral 02.39 Héphaistion 01.03 Héraion 02.03 Héroon 02.07 02.22 Mégaron 02.34 Mouseion 04.01 Nymphée 02.40 Palaimonion 02.04 périurbain 05.10 de plein air 02.33 Polyandrion 05.13 Pythion 01.07 01.12 Sarapieion 07.06 Sérapeion 04.03 de sommet 02.28 suburbain 02.10 Thesmophorion 06.01 Thesmotetéion 01.03 urbain 02.10

412 sceau 06.00 06.02

413 sculpteur 01.03

414 sculpture 01.01 01.03 02.21 02.40 06.03 07.06 atelier 06.03 exercice de sculpteur 01.03

415 signature 02.22

416 souveraineté 05.13

417 stade 02.12

418 statue 02.49 04.03 06.01 06.10 07.06 acrolithe 07.06 base 02.44 04.01 04.04 chiton 06.10 chryséléphantine 02.12 de culte 01.01–03 01.19 02.34 02.36 02.47 04.04 05.06 06.10 07.06 manteau 06.10 sphyrelaton 02.40

419 statue (iconographie) 01.03

420 statuette 01.03–05 04.01 06.03 07.06 13.01 bovin 02.40 bronze 06.01 07.01 lièvre 04.04 moule 05.06 porcelet 02.40

421 stèle 01.03 02.22 02.25 02.29 04.04 06.06

422 stoa 01.03

423 synœcisme 06.01

424 talisman 06.11

425 théâtre 01.10 04.06 05.05 05.10

426 tombe 01.05 tombe géométrique 02.24

427 torche 07.11

428 toupie 13.03

429 tumulus 01.20 02.07 05.13

Kernos, 27 | 2014 404

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Revue des livres

Kernos, 27 | 2014 405

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Revue des livres

1. Comptes rendus et notices bibliographiques

Kernos, 27 | 2014 406

Julia KINDT, Rethinking Greek Religion

Paraskevi Martzavou

REFERENCES

Julia KINDT, Rethinking Greek Religion, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2012. 1 vol. 15 × 23 cm, xiii+235 p. ISBN : 978–0–521–12773–8.

1 This book is a reworked version of previously published papers, with some additional material. Its main stated goal is “to explore ancient Greek religion beyond the polis” (p. 6). K. starts out by stating that scholarshipon ancient Greek religion is characterized by omissions and shortcomings, which K. aims to address in six chapters. Some of these supposed deficiencies are listed in the introduction: the limited extent of current research on religious beliefs and religious discourse, private religion, magic and mystery religion. Each chapter presents a different aspect of ancient Greek religion and of its study and sets out to remedy what is said to be the absence or mistreatment of this theme in earlier research.

2 In the first chapter, which bears the weight of the entire volume (p. 12–35), K. criticizes the so-called model of “polis-religion”; she considers the polis as a structuring principle but sees it as too simple, especially for the study of ‘personal religion’ and ‘mystery religions’. A second chapter (p. 36–54) analyzes visuality in Greek religion. It sets out to explore the ‘cognitive dimension’ of ancient Greek religion, related to the history of mentalities, as perceived and described in other disciplines. The third chapter (p. 55– 89) focuses on power and its symbolism in Greek religious rituals (the example is the ritual reuse of the property of the Thirty Tyrants in Athens); it examines religion as a symbolic order mapped onto the structures of Greek society. The fourth chapter (p. 90– 122) deals with the place of magic in the religious practices of ancient Greece. It aims to illustrate the complex relationships between magic and polis religion but it is critical concerning preconceived polarities. The fifth chapter (p. 123–154) goes through “local” and “universal” aspects of Greek religion; it aims to challenge the models of identities constructed through dedicatory and ritual activity in big sanctuaries; the sixth and most original chapter (p. 155–189) thinks through the construction of the divine during

Kernos, 27 | 2014 407

the Second Sophistic with the help of an approach based on the senses. It examines aspects of the corporeal representation of the divine in the religions of Greece and Rome. There is also a brief chapter of conclusions. The book is written in a lively prose and gradually constructs a number of anthropological models for the study of Greek religion.

3 This book surprises in more than one ways. In view of both recent and less recent scholarly work in Classics and in the history of religion, it is startling to learn that (p. 2) “… not so long ago, ancient Greek religion was regarded as a marginal topic, far removed from the surfaces of Greek life, Greek politics and society…”. More than once the author states the obvious, and one wonders if this is just a question of style. K. (p. 7) writes that “…it is not just the works of Homer and Hesiod that are obvious sources for the study of Greek religion-religious; beliefs and practices can also be found in the form of curse tablets…”, a statement that would not come as a surprise to generations of epigraphists, numismatists, papyrologists, at least since the end of the 19th century. K’s notion of Christianity as something immutable (p. 16 and 188) also gives pause. Finally, the use of term “Greek” throughout the book without chronological and geographical parameters is highly problematic.

4 The book is strikingly ambitious. From apparatus and bibliography, K’s intention emerges, namely to urge a more systematic application of anthropology (C. Geertz, D. Gellner) in the study of Greek religion (see mainly ch. 3), a positive effort in itself, since it broadens the horizons of scholarship, and creates the space for an interdisciplinary and cross-cultural perspective. Yet (without wanting to open a whole can of worms) one might wonder if anthropology per se solves what K. perceives as shortcomings of the “political” approaches to Greek religion (p. 80–89): anthropology comes with its own baggage, as a discipline shaped in colonial contexts and as a result of colonial encounters; anthropological approaches are themselves tainted by power relations and do not allow us to think ourselves away from power and politics.1 Anthropology might prove less useful here than a very firm sense of history and, indeed, of politics.

5 The main trope in the book is moving away from “polis-religion,” but K.’s own history of the scholarship on this topic is incomplete, and the historiographical account which is meant to support a “re-thinking” of Greek religion is brief, selective and subjective. K. puts much emphasis on Jane Ellen Harrison before moving to the next stage, “polis- religion”, which, is said to have found its principal mouthpiece in the person of Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood. For K., polis-religion is “… a more or less static and coherent cultural system provided by the polis and her institutions” (p. 191, Conclusion). This static picture may be less a problem with the model of polis religion than with K.’s own model and understanding of the polis. K.’s scholarship of the polis is hour-glass shaped, with items from the beginning of the 20th century and then jumping to the 80’s or 90’s — and ending there. Much of the recent continental scholarship on the polis (of extraordinary precision and dynamism) is missing.2 Methodologically, more problematic is K.’s dependency on works with an explicit focus on religion, which does not allow her to recognize the heuristic possibilities of a critical approach to the Greek polis as a formation in tension. The study of the polis and therefore of polis-religion, is much more nuanced than K. wants to believe. The polis is a reality and also a discursively constructed concept: any critical assessment of the polis-religion model for the study of religion should take into account the debates about the nature of the polis.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 408

6 Furthermore, differentiation between different historical periods is necessary, so that “ polis” religion must be related to the polis of a particular period: the Archaic polis is not the Classical, nor the Classical the Hellenistic, let alone the late Hellenistic or Roman polis.3 K. is of course well aware that the study of Greek religion has a history, but the history she provides is not the only possible one: the selective nature of her polis model means that the polis-religion model she presents is, largely, a straw-man, attacked with gusto, much preaching of principles and polemic, but few concrete examples or analysis of evidence. Her work is almost a manifesto. The tendency in building up and attacking straw men is unfortunately a constant feature of the work. When talking, for instance, about the symbolic value of rituals, K. writes (p. 82): “… A more dynamic approach is needed in classical scholarship that does not depict religious beliefs and practices merely as a disguise for ambitions in the political sphere…” The need has long been recognized, and it is difficult to imagine anyone, within the last generation at least, speaking of ritual as a mere disguise of political ambition. Recent work, notably on the “emotional turn”, the study of the construction and display of emotions in ancient sources, has taken matters much further.4

7 While the book invites us to rethink “Greek religion”,none of the chapters offers, or suggests, a chronological and geographical frame as the appropriate context for this process of “rethinking”. Greek religion and its study are not only considered as topics to think “beyond the polis,” since the reader practically ends up having to think beyond time and space. This is a misstep not only in the process of “re-thinking” but also in the process of merely “thinking” Greek religion. Chapter 6, which develops shrewd insights in the function of the divine as a point of reference in the exploration of love and sexuality (p. 169), has the term “Second Sophistic” in its title, but would have benefitted from a sketch of the significant features of this literary and political phenomenon, or even a deeper analysis of its historical specificity.Stripping the study of Greek religion of inquiries about historical processes and changes is not a remedy to any perceived failings of the study of Greek religion. Greek religion and its aspects are subject to history and to change as much as the polis as institutional formation and representation.

8 A further example of how this lack of historical awareness can affect the comprehension of Greek religion is the “laughless Parmeniscus” story, which is analyzed in chapter 2. K. uses the story to discuss themes such as the religious gaze, the form of divinity, the tension between experience and expectation, or cognitive visuality. Now the anecdote is known from a passage in Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae, a source dating from the 3rd cent CE, but the original story comes from a lost History of Delos by one Semos, dating from the 3rd cent BCE. Moreover, the protagonist Parmeniscus is perhaps to be identified with a dedicant (Parmiskos) in a Delian inventory of 156/5 BCE, and with a philosopher mentioned by Diogenes Laertius, a source of the 3rd cent CE. The problems are historicity, transmission and reception: whatever we choose to do with the chronological gap between the original source and Athenaeus in the 3rd cent CE, we cannot ignore it, because it poses the problem of where to locate our analyses of the anecdote, and to ascribe it to “Athenaeus/Semos” as K. does, only displaces the problem: are we dealing with religious mentality in the unspecified time of the anecdote, the time of the Hellenistic historian of Delos, or the third-century CE writer? Apart the story of the “laughless Parmeniscus” (p. 38–42), K. treats a small number of other case studies in her chapters: the procession displaying the property of the Thirty

Kernos, 27 | 2014 409

Tyrants based on a fragment of Philochorus (p. 83–89), the case of a hunting scene from the life of Apollonius of Tyana (p. 104–109), an example of agalmatophilia based on a fragment of a lost play by the poet Alexis (p. 155–156). In these case-studies, the bulk of the argumentation is based on secondary treatment of examples already constructed by other scholars and skimps on direct contact with a sufficient array of sources. The point is not just the analysis of structure and themes, but how to map these out on historical change and context. Religious history is still history, and thematic analysis, however fine, does not change this starting point.

9 Ideally the book is conceived [p. 8] “…as a critical evaluation of where research in Greek religion stands at present…” It is not easy to say, however, which kind of audience this book is targeting, and I am not entirely sure whether it does reveal where research in Greek religion truly stands. If this is a book conceived for beginners in the study of Greek religion — and indeed of Greek history and society — then the survey that it offers is too narrow in scope, and the examples treated are not properly contextualized historically and geographically. There is simply not enough emphasis on sources and their problems or on the historical awareness of the context and the sources treated. What is important in an introductory work is to unpack the kind and the nature of those sources we have, the challenges we face in the study of each type of source, where to be careful and of what: how we know as well as what. On the other hand, if this is a book destined to advanced scholars, then it somehow misses the target, because colleagues in the field are already familiar with the aspects of Greek religion addressed in the work. This study can be very useful to people who have an interest in Greek religion and would like to expand their bibliographical horizons towards anthropological perspectives. The critical evaluation of the research in Greek religion that this book offers, however, remains subjective and superficial since it offers no specific chronological, geographical, or historical background for the thoughts on Greek religion developed.

10 To “re-think” Greek religion is both a magnificent ambition and a serious challenge but the basic parameters of space and time should be introduced. It is the opinion of this reviewer that the historical approach of the Greek religion should be a sine qua non parameter, whatever the focus one choses to impose might be. We cannot think or rethink Greek religion but historically. The issue of theology that emerges at the end of the book as the ultimate question concerning Greek religion (p. 193), cannot be approached in a really satisfactory way without a serious focus on the sources. These have to be contextually and critically assessed. The interpretative turn, which the author claims as a ‘sacred’ principle (p. 58) is and will always be historical in its very essence.

NOTES

1. For a recent study deconstructing the uncritical use of anthropology within classics see V. AZOULAY, “Du paradigme du don à une anthropologie pragmatique de la valeur,” in P. PAYEN,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 410

E. SCHEID-TISSINIER, Anthropologie de l’antiquité. Anciens objets, nouvelles approches, Brepols, 2012, p. 17– 42. 2. P. Gauthier and others insisted on the crucial importance of contextual understanding of the polis in its historical, and also its geographical, diversity; see for instance a sample of his transformative work recently gathered in a volume (D. ROUSSET (ed.) Philippe Gauthier, Études d’histoire et d’institutions grecques, Genève, 2011); P. FRÖHLICH, Chr. MÜLLER, Citoyenneté et participation à la basse époque hellénistique, Genève, 2005 gives a sense of the debates and their evolution. There is no mention either of the fundamental work of epigraphists such as Louis Robert, which furthered our knowledge and understanding of numerous aspects of Greek religion and of the Greek polis, in micro-historical forms combined with a sweeping sense of big historical theme; See now his Choix d’écrits ed. by D. ROUSSET, I. SAVALLI (Paris, 2006). 3. As an example of a nuanced, contextualized study of polis religion for the Hellenistic period, see Fr. GRAF, “Bemerkungen zur bürgerlichen Religiosität im Zeitalter des Hellenismus,” in M. WÖRRLE, P. ZANKER, Stadtbild und Bürgerbild im Hellenismus, Munich, 1995, p. 103–114. For the “long Hellenistic Age”, see A. CHANIOTIS, “Staging and feeling the presence of God: Emotion and theatricality in the Greek East,” in L. BRICAULT, C. BONNET, Panthée: religious transformations in the Roman Empire, Leiden/Boston, 2013, p. 169–189. 4. See for instance books such as W. HARRIS, Restraining Anger: the ideology of anger control in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge Ma./London, 2001. See also A. CHANIOTIS, Ritual dynamics in the Ancient Mediterranean: agency, emotion, gender, representation, Stuttgart, 2011.

AUTHORS

PARASKEVI MARTZAVOU Corpus Christi College, Centre for the study of Greek and Roman Antiquity, Oxford

Kernos, 27 | 2014 411

Irene POLINSKAYA, A Local History of Greek Polytheism

Stéphanie Paul

RÉFÉRENCE

Irene POLINSKAYA, A Local History of Greek Polytheism. Gods, People, and the Land of Aigina, 800–400 BCE, Leiden/Boston, Brill, 2013 (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World, 178). 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, xxviii+660 p. ISBN : 978–900423404–8.

1 Le présent ouvrage s’inscrit dans la lignée des monographies régionales, abordant le système cultuel des anciens Grecs selon une perspective locale, c’est-à-dire en se centrant sur une cité, voire une région, délimitée. Cette approche présente une série d’avantages pour l’étude du fonctionnement du polythéisme grec. En se concentrant sur un objet d’étude circonscrit dans l’espace et — souvent — dans le temps, elle autorise notamment une recontextualisation des phénomènes religieux, permet d’analyser les choix posés par une communauté en des circonstances données et de retracer avec plus d’acuité les développements au cours du temps. Elle offre en outre un terrain d’expérimentation propice pour l’étude du fonctionnement des panthéons et des interactions entre les divinités qui les composent. C’est en l’occurrence sur l’île d’Égine au cours des périodes archaïque et classique que s’est portée l’attention de l’A.

2 L’ouvrage se divise en quatre parties de longueurs inégales, la première partie faisant office d’introduction générale. L’A. y aborde une série de questions conceptuelles et méthodologiques liées à l’étude du polythéisme grec et y livre en fait le résultat de la réflexion préliminaire menée lors de son étude des cultes d’Égine, ainsi que sa position sur les diverses approches théoriques en cours. On s’interroge sur la pertinence réelle d’un tel développement, dont la longueur (plus de cent pages) et le caractère très général détonent quelque peu dans une étude de ce type. Quelques points sont abordés de manière très succincte, comme c’est le cas notamment de la question des sources utiles à l’étude de la religion grecque (p. 52–59), qui fait peu de place à l’épigraphie, ou aux difficultés liées à l’interprétation des vestiges matériels et des offrandes votives. Un

Kernos, 27 | 2014 412

état des lieux de la situation documentaire d’Égine est, en revanche, absent. Parmi ces questions, la réflexion qui est directement liée aux spécificités de l’étude régionale s’avère être l’une des plus intéressantes. L’A. met en évidence un schéma triangulaire entre les communautés, le système cultuel et le territoire, ainsi qu’il est définit dans le sous-titre de l’ouvrage Gods, People and Land. La distinction entre divinités enchôroi, qui habitent le territoire, et les divinités patrôoi, ancestrales, illustre l’interaction entre ces trois éléments. Afin d’échapper à la rigidité du modèle de la polis-religion de C. Sourvinou-Inwood, elle utilise la notion de « mésocosme », empruntée à l’anthropologue Robert Levy, qu’elle définit comme un intermédiaire entre le niveau individuel et le macrocosme culturel (p. 34). À la notion de polis, qui renvoie à une entité politique bien particulière, l’A. préfère celle, plus souple, de « système religieux local ».

3 Les deuxième et troisième parties entrent dans le vif du sujet en abordant le système religieux d’Égine en trois chapitres distincts. Le premier constitue une présentation analytique des différents cultes attestés dans l’île et est fondé sur une approche synchronique, concentrée sur la seconde moitié du Ve siècle avant notre ère. Le choix d’une période aussi restreinte dans le cadre d’une étude régionale pourra poser d’autant plus question que la documentation à disposition n’est guère abondante et que certaines sources plus tardives comme Pausanias sont parfois invoquées au cours de l’exposé. Le choix de cette période spécifique n’est pas davantage justifié par l’A. Les divinités sont agencées par ordre alphabétique, évitant le caractère arbitraire d’un classement opéré selon une éventuelle importance. En guise de complément, un inventaire des cultes attestés dans l’île toutes périodes confondues est repris en annexe. Dans son étude, l’A. rend compte de son cheminement de pensée, envisageant — et souvent réfutant — toutes les hypothèses possibles, ce qui aboutit généralement à une analyse très approfondie et précise des sources, qu’elles soient littéraires, épigraphiques ou archéologiques. Ce procédé conduit parfois à des développements marginaux qui n’apportent pas grand-chose à l’exposé des cultes, comme c’est le cas notamment de la réflexion (p. 167–171) sur l’approvisionnement en eau à Égine à propos du culte d’Aphaia. L’A. porte une attention particulière à l’étude de ce qu’elle appelle le “rôle social” des divinités, à savoir les fonctions ou prérogatives qu’ils revêtaient au sein du panthéon local. Toutefois, le caractère souvent limité de la documentation, exploitée à son maximum, ou la difficulté d’interprétation qui s’y attache, rend parfois l’analyse assez périlleuse et conduit souvent à des apories. Par exemple, les conclusions sur les prérogatives d’Aphaia se fondent principalement sur le matériel votif découvert dans le sanctuaire, une méthode qui peut s’avérer trompeuse en l’absence de sources écrites. Ainsi, l’A. conclut à une palette très large des compétences de cette déesse qui toucheraient autant au domaine militaire qu’à la navigation, la kourotrophie, et aux rites de passages (p. 196). Par ailleurs, l’A. tente d’expliquer l’absence apparente d’un sanctuaire public de Poséidon à Égine par son appartenance à l’amphictyonie autour du sanctuaire du dieu à Kalaureia (p. 316–318). L’ argumentum a silentio s’avère ici très hasardeux. Le chapitre suivant, par une approche davantage conceptuelle, se fonde sur l’analyse des différents cultes afin d’en tirer des lignes de force du point du vue du fonctionnement du panthéon, d’évaluer les liens qui se tissent entre les diverses divinités, à la fois dans les récits mythiques et dans la pratique du culte, et d’en saisir le sens. L’analyse s’effectue à l’aune d’une série de modèles culturels (syngeneia, xenia, philia, synergeia), explore la distribution des prérogatives au sein du panthéon et le rôle des groupes sociaux à la base de la pratique

Kernos, 27 | 2014 413

cultuelle. Cette approche permet de mettre en évidence une série de divinités ou héros (Apollon, Aiakos, Zeus, Damia et Auxesia) liés de près à l’identité de l’île et qui répondent chacun à des circonstances particulières.

4 La troisième partie offre une étude diachronique du système cultuel, constituant le pendant de l’étude synchronique menée dans la deuxième partie. L’A. tente d’y déceler les grandes tendances des développements historiques des phénomènes religieux et isole trois grandes phases : 1) l’époque géométrique, où un petit nombre de cultes étaient situés à des emplacements topographiques proéminents ; 2) l’époque archaïque, qui voit l’introduction de nouveaux cultes accompagnés d’un discours idéologique, ainsi qu’un développement architectural autour des sanctuaires préexistants ; 3) le Ve siècle, où s’opère une spécialisation croissante des prérogatives des divinités.

5 La quatrième partie propose une contextualisation géopolitique du système religieux d’Égine. Le dixième chapitre envisage la position d’Égine au sein du Golfe Saronique. Les cultes d’Aiakos et des Aiakides, de Damia et Auxèsia, et de Poséidon servent de base à la réflexion tentant d’esquisser les contours d’un réseau cultuel qui mettrait en interaction les diverses communautés de cette région. L’accent se porte surtout sur les rivalités avec Athènes et les répercussions sur les configurations cultuelles. Enfin, le dernier chapitre explore la tension entre système religieux local et représentations panhelléniques, et met en évidence, plutôt qu’une polarité très claire, l’existence d’un spectre représentant la diversité de l’expérience religieuse.

6 Une conclusion vient résumer les différents chapitres, et l’ouvrage s’accompagne encore d’une bibliographie, de cinq annexes, dont deux sont consacrées à la topographie de l’île, d’un grand nombre d’illustrations et d’un index général. Un index des sources n’eût pas été superflu.

7 L’ouvrage aborde des questions fondamentales à notre compréhension du système religieux en Grèce ancienne, telles que le fonctionnement des panthéons locaux, les développements historiques des systèmes cultuels et la pertinence d’une conception panhellénique de la religion. L’analyse révèle également une solide connaissance de la bibliographie récente et une grande maîtrise des outils conceptuels et modèles théoriques, quoique, de ce point de vue, l’ouvrage aurait gagné à être allégé. Il faut encore souligner la volonté de l’A. d’échapper à un simple inventaire descriptif des cultes pour fournir une réelle réflexion de fond sur le fonctionnement du polythéisme en Grèce ancienne. Toutefois, le grand nombre d’écueils qui se posent lors de l’analyse des cultes, et le nombre d’hypothèses avancées qui aboutissent à des apories, posent la question de savoir si la matière documentaire, peu abondante, fait d’Égine un lieu idéal pour une étude régionale du polythéisme antique.

AUTEURS

STÉPHANIE PAUL F.R.S.-FNRS – Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 414

Richard BUXTON, Myths & Tragedies in their Ancient Greek Contexts

Ajda Latifses

RÉFÉRENCE

Richard BUXTON, Myths & Tragedies in their Ancient Greek Contexts, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2013. 1 vol. 14,5 × 22 cm, xii+280 p. ISBN : 978–0–19–955761–5.

1 Dans la seconde moitié du XXe siècle, l’étude de la mythologie grecque a connu, sous l’influence du structuralisme lévi-straussien, un profond renouvellement théorique et méthodologique, qui n’est cependant pas allé sans désillusions ni remises en question. La plus violente d’entre elles fut sans doute portée par l’ouvrage de Marcel Detienne, L’invention de la mythologie, publié en 1981. L’auteur y dénonçait les errances du structuralisme alors dominant, en insistant sur l’impossibilité de substantialiser le mythe pour le réduire à un ensemble de relations et d’oppositions binaires immanentes sans prise en compte de son contexte d’énonciation. Les mythes, rappelait M. Detienne, n’existent que dans la diversité de leurs versions et des formes énonciatives (langagières ou iconographiques) dans lesquelles elles apparaissent. Dès lors l’interprète, plutôt que de rechercher d’hypothétiques structures communes, se devrait de mettre en lumière les singularités de chaque version et la fonction particulière qui lui est assignée dans un contexte donné, défini à la fois en termes culturels et spatio- temporels (contexte extra-discursif), et en termes formels et génériques (contexte intra-discursif). C’est là la voie suivie par certains chercheurs, qui ont préféré tourner le dos à un structuralisme désormais suspect pour lui substituer une approche de type pragmatique. Mais le structuralisme n’en a pas moins continué à influencer, d’une manière plus ou moins consciente et assumée, bon nombre de travaux jusqu’à l’époque présente.

2 Sur ce fond d’incertitude théorique, le dernier ouvrage de R. Buxton (R.B.) offre le remarquable intérêt de mettre la réflexion théorique au cœur du discours, et de proposer une mise au point méthodologique à la fois claire, prudente et équilibrée,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 415

illustrée à travers des études de cas circonstanciés. Si le livre rassemble onze études publiées indépendamment entre 1987 et 2010, son unité lui vient d’une cohérence d’approche que l’auteur lui-même s’applique à mettre en valeur dans l’introduction, puis dans chacun des chapeaux introductifs qui ouvrent et coordonnent les chapitres successifs. D’une manière plus explicite et articulée qu’il ne l’avait fait dans son précédent ouvrage, La Grèce de l’imaginaire1, R.B. affiche ici le souci de concilier une approche structuraliste dont il réaffirme la validité, avec une attention rigoureuse et exigeante au contexte des versions mythiques étudiées. C’est, disons-le d’emblée, ce discours de la méthode en acte qui constitue le principal intérêt de l’ouvrage ; les conclusions auxquelles l’A. aboutit, quant à elles, demeurent souvent assez traditionnelles, mais ne s’en distinguent pas moins par leur sens de la nuance et de la circonspection.

3 Pour penser l’articulation et l’interaction entre le niveau de la structure et celui du contexte, l’A. recourt à une métaphore linguistique (particulièrement développée au chapitre 11) empruntée à la terminologie saussurienne — elle-même préstructuraliste — l’opposition entre « langue » et « parole ». À la suite de Claude Lévi-Strauss, il admet qu’une société puisse emprunter certains aspects du monde empirique environnant pour élaborer des paires d’oppositions binaires « bonnes à penser ». Ce système de représentations, qui conserve une certaine stabilité au cours de l’histoire grecque, constitue la « langue » du mythe, tandis que chacune de ses réalisations littéraires ou artistiques singulières apparaît comme une manifestation de la « parole ». La « langue » mythique, notons-le cependant d’emblée, ne se réduit jamais tout à fait chez R.B. au jeu schématique des oppositions binaires : dès l’introduction, il associe à l’approche rigoureusement structuraliste une approche thématique plus souple. Pour reconstituer au mieux la « langue » mythique, l’A. insiste en outre sur la fécondité méthodologique qu’offrent les rapprochements entre énoncés mythiques et énoncés considérés comme non mythiques (relevant par exemple du discours historique, médical ou botanique) : à la suite de L. Gernet, dont il cite l’exemple, R.B. affirme la « porosité » du mythe, qui ne saurait constituer un mode de pensée à part, dissociable d’une pensée prétendument rationnelle. Par ailleurs, afin de mieux comprendre comment se construisent les représentations mythiques, il souligne la nécessité de confronter les mythes aux realia de la société et de l’environnement grecs : ainsi intervient l’attention au contexte qui constitue l’autre élément-clef de la méthode de R.B.

4 Alors cependant que dans La Grèce de l’imaginaire, le contexte du mythe tendait à se réduire à la réalité du monde grec antique, R.B. affirme ici l’importance de prendre également en compte les moyens de la représentation mythique, c’est-à-dire les formes discursives et iconographiques dans lesquelles chaque « parole » mythique se déploie. L’attention portée au contexte doit prémunir contre deux écueils herméneutiques, d’une part le risque d’interpréter mécaniquement, en leur plaquant un sens tout fait, des récurrences structurales et thématiques en fait resémantisées dans chaque contexte singulier, de l’autre le mirage déconstructiviste d’une infinie ouverture du sens, en réalité toujours limité par les potentialités de la « langue » mythique comme par les choix que détermine le contexte. La prise en considération du genre, qui impose ses codes à la matière traitée et dicte un horizon d’attente au destinataire, remplit dans cette perspective un rôle majeur. Comme l’indique le titre même de l’ouvrage, Myths and Tragedies, c’est alors la tragédie attique qui fournit à l’auteur ses études de cas les plus développées. L’ouvrage s’articule ainsi en deux parties, intitulées respectivement « Themes in Myth » et « Myths in Tragedy ». La première présente cinq chapitres

Kernos, 27 | 2014 416

consacrés à l’étude de thèmes récurrents à travers les différents genres littéraires grecs ; la seconde, qui comprend six chapitres, inverse le focus pour saisir le traitement de quelques thèmes mythiques à l’intérieur d’un genre particulier, le genre tragique, et de quelques unes de ses œuvres singulières.

5 Les deux premiers chapitres s’intéressent à deux thèmes mythiques empruntés au monde naturel, géographique et zoologique : la montagne et le loup. Si la première de ces deux études s’inscrit dans une perspective plus nettement structuraliste, toutes deux s’attachent à montrer comment les représentations mythiques s’élaborent en sélectionnant, en déformant et en accentuant certaines données de l’observation empirique pour construire du sens. Ainsi, les représentations mythiques de la montagne tendent à faire de cet espace marginal et sauvage, potentiellement menaçant, le lieu par excellence de renversements radicaux de la norme culturelle et sociale. De même, l’observation et la réinterprétation biaisée du comportement des loups aboutissent à la construction de modèles pensés pour éclairer la nature de la société humaine et de ses rapports avec l’individu. Ces deux études accordent par ailleurs une place importante au rituel, comme point de convergence entre la réalité vécue et l’imaginaire des représentations mythiques. Le rite de la montée vers le sanctuaire de Zeus Aktaios au sommet du Pélion, qu’accomplissait, à l’époque hellénistique, un groupe choisi de notables arcadiens revêtus d’une peau de bétail2, actualise ainsi l’image du pasteur mythique. Le renversement spatial et social accompli par le rite demeure cependant, contrairement à ceux représentés par les mythes, temporaire et symbolique, et n’aboutit finalement qu’à une réaffirmation et à un renforcement de la norme. L’idée de marginalité et d’humanité inversée dont est porteuse la représentation mythique du loup peut être utilisée d’une manière comparable par le rite. C’est ce que montrent deux rituels arcadiens au cours desquels un des participants est supposé se transformer temporairement en loup3. R.B. interprète ces rites — d’une manière là encore toute traditionnelle — comme de probables rites de passage à l’âge adulte, où la transformation en loup symboliserait la situation de marginalité et d’inversion des normes à laquelle est soumis le jeune initiant.

6 Le troisième chapitre, qui se tourne pour sa part vers le traitement mythique d’une réalité toute culturelle, les noms propres, prolonge l’exploration thématique entreprise par les deux chapitres précédents dans la mesure où l’exemple développé, celui des noms masculins formés sur l’adjectif melas, « noir », a été associé, depuis les travaux de Pierre Vidal-Naquet, au monde de la montagne et du sauvage. C’est justement cette association que R.B. vient questionner, en montrant qu’un nom ne fait sens que dans le contexte narratif et thématique où il apparaît, et qui seul peut activer ou invalider les potentialités sémantiques contenues dans son étymologie. L’examen du contexte énonciatif, présent en mineure dans les deux premiers chapitres surtout soucieux des structures de l’imaginaire, passe désormais au premier plan, permettant de distinguer des cas où la noirceur morale et la dissimulation volontiers associées à la couleur noire semblent bien s’appliquer aux personnages dont le nom est formé sur melas, et d’autres où cette association ne semble pas pertinente.

7 Les quatrième et cinquième chapitres, où se confirme l’importance croissante donnée à l’examen du contexte énonciatif, sont unis par le resserrement du corpus mythologique considéré autour de la légende de Jason et Médée, et par une confrontation entre versions discursives et figurations iconographiques, dont l’ouvrage présente des

Kernos, 27 | 2014 417

reproductions. Le quatrième chapitre, consacré au personnage de Talos, géant de bronze crétois tué par Médée lors du retour des Argonautes, s’interroge sur la manière dont la figure mythique du géant aide à penser la définition de l’humain. L’ambivalence de Talos, situé au carrefour des catégories du divin, de l’animal et de l’humain, est soulignée par deux thèmes centraux dans le récit d’Apollonios, son unique point faible à la cheville, et l’ichôr — sang immortel des dieux ou épanchement pathologique précurseur de mort — qui s’écoule de sa blessure fatidique. L’effort de contextualisation, là encore, pousse à la prudence interprétative. Si l’utilisation de certains parallèles tirés de la médecine hippocratique (ses emplois du mot ichôr) peut ainsi éclairer la version d’Apollonios, d’autres associations (comme le lien, lui aussi médical, entre cheville et sexualité) ne sont pas pertinentes : la stratégie narrative du poème opère des choix au sein des représentations mentales disponibles. Le cinquième chapitre est pour sa part construit autour de l’opposition structurale mouvement/ immobilité, telle qu’elle se laisse saisir dans le même poème d’Apollonios. R.B. montre que cette dichotomie, récurrente dans la pensée grecque, est utilisée par le poète à une fin sémantique précise : il s’agit de mettre en contraste les deux facettes de son héroïne, en opposant une Médée en perpétuelle agitation, tourmentée par ses passions et en proie au déchirement intérieur, et une Médée magicienne concentrée dans l’effort d’envoûtement, maîtresse d’elle-même et des autres. Cet usage de l’opposition mouvement/immobilité, qui ne se retrouve dans aucune autre version poétique du mythe de Médée pourrait trouver, selon l’A., quelques parallèles — pas tout à fait exacts cependant — dans le langage figuré de la céramique attique et italiote.

8 La seconde partie de l’ouvrage, centrée sur la relation entre mythe et tragédie, s’ouvre sur trois chapitres de mise au point, destinés à saisir les singularités du genre tragique comme contexte poétique du mythe. Le sixième chapitre cible ainsi ce qui différencie le traitement du mythe dans la tragédie de celui qu’il reçoit dans d’autres formes narratives. La tragédie se caractérise d’abord par le type de sélection qu’elle opère au sein de la matière mythique. Plutôt que la représentation des glorieux exploits des héros, elle tend ainsi à privilégier celle des tensions et dilemmes de l’héroïsme, voire de l’effondrement du héros. La tragédie se singularise en outre par l’espace où elle se déroule : que celui-ci soit compris en termes géographiques, culturels, politiques ou mentaux, il s’agit toujours d’un espace des marges, de l’entre-deux. Elle se distingue enfin par la représentation qu’elle donne des dieux et de leurs relations avec les mortels, centrée sur les aspects conflictuels et sur l’impénétrabilité du divin.

9 Le septième chapitre approfondit la question du lieu tragique, en l’associant à celle du temps et de l’idéologie pour cerner ce qui fait de la tragédie un genre typiquement athénien. La tragédie, explique R.B., inscrit ces trois éléments dans une dialectique de la distance et de la proximité qui lui permet d’interroger les mythes anciens à la lumière des enjeux présents, mais aussi d’utiliser la matière héroïque pour ébranler, voire mettre en crise l’idéologie athénienne contemporaine. Ce genre poétique, selon l’A., fournit à la cité un outil qui lui permet d’éprouver, avec une pleine maîtrise et sans risque réel, les faiblesses de ses propres structures. Le chapitre 8, enfin, développe une ultime caractéristique commune à l’ensemble du genre tragique, celle qui consiste à accentuer le caractère inexplicable des événements, parfois présentés comme dépourvus de cause apparente : c’est par exemple le cas dans les Bacchantes d’Euripide, pour qui veut déterminer les raisons de la soudaine soumission de Penthée à Dionysos. La diversité souvent contradictoire des interprétations proposées par les spécialistes prouve que la recherche même de la cause est vaine, et que l’impossibilité

Kernos, 27 | 2014 418

interprétative est elle-même une constituante essentielle du sens, qui pointe vers le mystère et l’incompréhensibilité du divin. L’examen du contexte, montre R.B., est non seulement décisif pour l’élaboration de l’interprétation, mais aussi pour la délimitation de ses ambitions.

10 Les trois derniers chapitres, enfin, étudient le traitement de quelques thèmes et structures mythiques précis à l’intérieur d’œuvres tragiques singulières. Le neuvième chapitre tente ainsi de saisir l’usage sophocléen du thème de la cécité par rapport à celui qu’il reçoit dans les mythes grecs en général. L’examen du matériau mythique, d’Homère aux mythographes d’époque romaine, révèle qu’une faculté de vision supérieure, souvent liée par métaphore à une intellection supérieure, distingue les dieux des hommes, tandis que la cécité apparaît fréquemment comme un châtiment ou comme un défaut compensatoire chez des mortels qui ont transgressé les limites de leur humanité par des facultés de connaissances exceptionnelles. Dans un Ve siècle athénien passionné par la question de la connaissance humaine et de ses pouvoirs, Sophocle réactive et explicite cette association mythique entre cécité, intellection et limites humaines, tout en l’intégrant à son propre discours tragique, tourné vers les conséquences morales de la finitude humaine.

11 Le chapitre 10, centré sur l’Alceste d’Euripide, explore cinq questions — le motif de la porte, la frontière entre vie et mort, le rôle d’Héraklès, le caractère d’Admète et le ton de la pièce — en insistant sur la nécessité de replacer l’œuvre tragique dans son contexte culturel contemporain, notamment celui de la religion et des rites. Cette approche, qui s’inscrit dans la lignée de celles déployées par des chercheurs comme F. Zeitlin, R. Seaford ou H. Foley, tous attentifs à l’usage des thèmes et symboles rituels dans la tragédie, est particulièrement bien illustrée à travers l’étude de la porte. Cette dernière, qui matérialise l’opposition structurale et structurante, constitutive de la dramaturgie tragique, entre intérieur et extérieur, reçoit dans Alceste une fonction sémantique précise liée à des représentations rituelles impliquant à la fois les rites funéraires et les rites de mariage.

12 Le dernier chapitre enfin, consacré aux Bacchantes d’Euripide, s’intéresse à une opposition structurale mise à l’honneur par les gender studies au cours des dernières décennies, la distinction masculin/féminin et ses éventuels brouillages. Questionnant la féminisation qui affecte plusieurs personnages masculins dans cette tragédie, R. Buxton insiste une nouvelle fois sur la nécessité d’éviter toute interprétation monolithique, et d’opérer des distinctions. En ce qui concerne les dieux d’abord, le brouillage des genres, fonctionnel chez Zeus (qui, de sa cuisse, enfante Dionysos comme une mère), morphologique chez Dionysos, apparaît comme une marque de pouvoir élargi, susceptible de transcender les catégories. Pour le mortel qu’est Penthée en revanche, la féminisation à travers l’adoption d’un travestissement féminin est signe de faiblesse, et de soumission impuissante au pouvoir du dieu qui le manipule. Cette sémantique du brouillage des genres sexuels, propre au système de signification construit par les Bacchantes et à la logique du déroulement dramatique de cette pièce, ne se retrouve, selon l’auteur, dans aucune tragédie, mais rencontre en revanche certains parallèles dans la comédie aristophanienne, signe qu’Euripide, à la fin de sa carrière, aurait cherché à ébranler les frontières génériques.

13 On regrette par endroits que l’A. (peut-être faute d’espace nécessaire) n’aille pas tout à fait au bout de son exigence de contextualisation générique. Le rapprochement entre comédie et tragédie que nous venons d’évoquer, hâtivement mentionné à la fin de la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 419

dernière étude sans que soient réellement pris en considération les codes et enjeux propres au genre comique, en constitue un bon exemple. La recherche du rire, qui fait un usage abondant des costumes grotesques et des plaisanteries à contenu sexuel, confère au thème du travestissement et de la féminisation un traitement et des effets en réalité bien éloignés de ceux mis en œuvre dans la tragédie des Bacchantes. Une comparaison contrastive précise aurait dès lors pu, sur ce point, s’avérer fructueuse. Le même type de reproche peut être formulé à la lecture du chapitre 5, où le parallèle entre la poésie d’Apollonios et les représentations iconographiques sur céramique ne fait pas explicitement intervenir les spécificités et contraintes du langage pictural. Il n’en reste pas moins que globalement, la rigueur et la prudence méthodologiques déployées par l’A. tout au long de son enquête, ainsi que la finesse nuancée de ses analyses assurent à l’ouvrage une indiscutable force de conviction.

NOTES

1. La Grèce de l’imaginaire. Les contextes de la mythologie, Paris, La Découverte, 1996. Édition originale : Imaginary Greece: The Contexts of Mythology, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994. 2. Héraclide [sous le nom de Dikaiarchos], FHG, t. 2, p. 262. 3. Pausanias, VIII, 2, 6 ; Platon, Rép., 565d ; Pline l’Ancien, Hist. nat. VIII, 81.

AUTEURS

AJDA LATIFSES EHESS – ENS Ulm

Kernos, 27 | 2014 420

Renaud GAGNÉ, Ancestral Fault in Ancient Greece

Aurian Delli Pizzi

RÉFÉRENCE

Renaud GAGNÉ, Ancestral Fault in Ancient Greece, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 23,5 cm, x+556 p. ISBN : 978–1–107–03980–3.

1 Derrière un titre assez sobre, la structure de l’ouvrage de R. Gagné (R.G.) permet d’entrevoir son originalité. Loin de se contenter d’une brève circonscription du concept de faute ancestrale dans l’introduction, l’A. consacre les deux premiers chapitres à la réception et à la réinterprétation de cette notion après l’Antiquité. Il cherche ainsi à montrer par quels filtres successifs a transité la notion avant d’arriver jusqu’à nous. Ce n’est qu’après un exposé assez érudit sur les nombreux auteurs impliqués dans la réception de la notion que l’A. revient à Homère, Hésiode et aux auteurs grecs postérieurs. L’arc chronologique de l’étude s’étend ainsi sur près de trois mille ans.

2 Cette structure répond à une question centrale : la notion-même de faute ancestrale est-elle une construction grecque ou moderne ? Cette question amène l’A. à distinguer deux facettes de cette même notion, selon qu’elle soit envisagée par les Grecs ou par nous : l’ancestral fault, du point de vue grec, et l’inherited guilt, du point de vue moderne. Cette distinction, quoique pertinente sur le plan méthodologique, est très subtile, au point que, au fil de l’ouvrage, l’A. utilise parfois l’une pour l’autre. Il souligne d’emblée les limites d’une approche cognitive qui consisterait à s’interroger sur ce que les Grecs « croyaient » à propos de la faute ancestrale et préfère se concentrer, à travers différents cas d’étude, sur les contextes d’énonciation dans lesquels apparaît la notion (p. 9).

3 Dans le premier chapitre, l’A. étudie le traitement de la notion de προγονικὸν ἁμάρτημα dans un passage du De decem dubitationibus circa Providentiam de Proclus. Il montre que Proclus s’est librement inspiré du traité De sera numinis vindicta de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 421

Plutarque, en infléchissant les idées pour les appliquer au contexte néoplatonicien. Il suggère que la réflexion autour de la notion de faute ancestrale ne s’est pas développée chez les Grecs avant la période hellénistique. Par la suite, selon lui, la réception de la notion par les auteurs chrétiens s’est structurée autour de deux types de réactions : l’appropriation ou le rejet. Ainsi, le rapport entre hellénisme et christianisme diffère selon les modes de traduction. La traduction d’Isaak Sebastokrator vise à s’approprier le texte (domestication translation), en établissant des liens avec l’Ancien Testament et visant à christianiser la πρόνοια grecque. Cette démarche est parallèle à celle de Michael Psellos, dans le contexte de la renaissance byzantine du XIe s. En revanche, la traduction de Guillaume de Moerbeke cherche davantage à mettre en lumière les différences du texte de Proclus (foreignisation translation), notamment en évitant de traduire en latin les termes grecs de Proclus.

4 Le deuxième chapitre étudie la réception de la notion de faute ancestrale aux XVIe et XVIIe s., principalement à travers les éditions et commentaires concernant le traité de Plutarque. Ces travaux ont interprété le texte de Plutarque à l’aune du christianisme et ont contribué à façonner la notion d’inherited guilt, pendant moderne de l’ancestral fault. Hugo Grotius considère l’héritage de la culpabilité comme incompatible avec la liberté individuelle qu’il prône. Il distingue loi humaine et loi divine, et estime que la transmission de la culpabilité aux descendants n’est pas en adéquation avec la loi humaine. Jan Lomeier prend lui aussi Plutarque comme référence pour son traité sur les rites de purification. Bien qu’il distingue loi humaine et loi divine comme le fait Grotius, il considère que le péché originel ne peut être effacé que par la grâce divine, contrairement à la vision libérale de Grotius.

5 Après l’examen de ces deux auteurs, R.G. livre un aperçu de la recherche sur la notion d’inherited guilt après le XVIIe s. La tendance est à considérer le péché originel comme de plus en plus marginalisé et comme une curiosité spécifique au monde grec. Cela a pour conséquence que l’on va chercher à déceler les origines et évolutions de cette croyance. L’A. s’intéresse surtout à la chaîne formée par les travaux successifs de G. Glotz, E. Dodds et H. Lloyd-Jones. Le déclin de la faute ancestrale s’inscrit parfaitement dans la thèse de G. Glotz selon laquelle le γένος a perdu de son importance au profit du développement des institutions de la cité. Pour E. Dodds, la notion d’inherited guilt est caractéristique de la Grèce archaïque et entre dans la catégorie de l’irrationnel. Selon H. Lloyd-Jones, la notion est fondamentale dans la pensée grecque, même après la période archaïque.

6 Le troisième chapitre étudie l’ἐξώλεια, forme d’imprécation dirigée contre soi-même et contre son propre foyer, chez Homère et chez Hésiode. L’A. montre que, chez Hésiode, la culpabilité qui se diffuse aux générations suivantes est due au parjure. Le non respect d’un serment menace la continuité du foyer, tout en ayant un impact sur la cité. R.G. est bien conscient que la perspective dans laquelle s’insèrent ces serments, qui engagent les générations futures, est quelque peu différente du problème de la faute ancestrale à proprement parler. La faute ancestrale dans Les travaux et les jours se conçoit essentiellement en rapport avec la pratique rituelle du serment. L’A. fait une comparaison entre le parjure chez Hésiode et celui évoqué dans l’inscription de la fondation de Cyrène. Chez Homère, le grand serment des armées aux livres III et IV de l’ Iliade, où le parjure des Troyens va les conduire à leur perte, montre également que le serment qui étend la responsabilité aux générations ultérieures est, plus qu’une simple

Kernos, 27 | 2014 422

ἀρά ou ἐξώλεια, une expression de la justice divine dont l’action s’étend à travers les âges.

7 Le chapitre 4 aborde la faute ancestrale dans le contexte de la poésie récitée dans les banquets. Au VIe s. av. J.‑C., la faute ancestrale n’est plus confinée au registre des serments. Dans les poèmes d’Alcée, la culpabilité du tyran de Lesbos, Pittacos, est renforcée par l’attitude que son père et son grand-père ont eue avant lui, voire même par les fautes des Atrides, ses ancêtres, et son sacrilège est présenté comme susceptible d’avoir des répercussions sur ses descendants et sur sa cité. Les poèmes de Solon montrent tout le potentiel de l’implication des dieux dans la sphère humaine pour sévir contre une faute ancestrale : non seulement la notion de faute ancestrale s’étend au domaine de la cité entière, comme principe de gouvernance, mais des descendants peuvent être punis à la place de leurs parents. Enfin, malgré de fortes similitudes entre plusieurs passages de Solon et de Théognis, ce dernier se situe davantage dans la continuité d’Hésiode, avec une grande importance accordée au serment et à la notion d’intention, primordiale pour départager les responsabilités.

8 Après la poésie archaïque, la faute ancestrale n’est plus confinée au domaine du serment ou du banquet, mais s’étend dans différents domaines, comme le montre le chapitre 5. Elle sert comme élément narratif « to create an association between the past of the narrative and the present of the audience » (p. 306). L’épisode du serment de Glaukos, rapporté par Hérodote, mêle différentes problématiques pour illustrer l’impact d’un parjure sur les relations entre cités. Un autre cas est la colère du héros Talthybios, à Sparte, après que les Spartiates ont mis à mort des hérauts perses, colère qui a eu, selon Hérodote, des effets sur la guerre du Péloponnèse plusieurs décennies plus tard. L’épisode des Alcméonides est analysé à travers la représentation d’Hérodote, qui le présente comme un outil de manipulation par les autres cités à l’égard d’Athènes, et d’autres sources, comme la Constitution d’Athènes et la Vie de Solon de Plutarque, qui insistent davantage sur la purification. Enfin, Hérodote recourt à la faute ancestrale pour expliquer la chute de Crésus, malgré les avertissements d’Apollon et de Solon.

9 Dans les deux derniers chapitres, l’A. étudie le riche corpus des tragédies, en se concentrant sur deux familles : les Labdacides et les Atrides. Il procède à une étude au cas par cas, car il n’est pas possible de déceler une utilisation identique de la faute ancestrale dans toutes les attestations. La faute ancestrale est fort présente dans l’ensemble de la production tragique, contrairement à l’idée reçue qui voudrait qu’Eschyle, empreint d’archaïsme, en soit l’auteur le plus friand : ce point renforce l’affirmation de l’A. selon laquelle la faute ancestrale n’est pas un concept restreint à l’époque archaïque. Certes, la faute ancestrale est centrale dans l’Orestie d’Eschyle. C’est dans l’Agamemnon que les références au passé et au futur sont les plus riches. Clytemnestre cherche d’ailleurs à se décharger de sa responsabilité en accusant le démon qui l’a poussé à agir et qui est l’héritier des fautes antérieures. La notion est néanmoins beaucoup moins présente dans les Choéphores et dans les Euménides. La faute ancestrale est présentée dans Iphigénie en Tauride comme une menace que l’on peut maîtriser. Quant à l’Oreste d’Euripide, la notion de faute ancestrale y est régulièrement sollicitée pour se référer au passé de la famille.

10 La faute ancestrale n’est pas présente dans l’Œdipe Roi de Sophocle, mais est développée dans les interprétations qui ont été faites de la pièce. Les Sept contre Thèbes, en revanche, imposent la faute ancestrale comme élément central de l’histoire des Labdacides dans les autres traitements qui en ont été faits au cours du Ve s. L’Antigone

Kernos, 27 | 2014 423

de Sophocle utilise la faute ancestrale davantage pour caractériser le personnage de la protagoniste, sans en faire un facteur explicatif en soi. Les Phéniciennes d’Euripide en font un usage plus profond, puisque, pour la première fois, les déboires des Labdacides sont expliqués dans la pièce par le meurtre du dragon par Cadmos, causant la colère d’Arès envers la famille pour six générations. L’aboutissement de l’utilisation de la notion apparaît dans Œdipe à Colone, dernière pièce à appliquer la notion à l’histoire des Labdacides, qui formule de manière précise l’opposition entre volonté individuelle et faute ancestrale.

11 Cet ouvrage surprend son lecteur — dans le bon sens du terme — à plusieurs niveaux. Il va bien plus loin que ce que le titre laisse entendre et ne se limite pas à une simple étude de la punition divine. Au final, c’est un livre dense que nous présente R.G., qui fait preuve d’un haut degré d’érudition. D’un point de vue pratique, on regrettera qu’il ne soit pas toujours aisé de suivre l’analyse minutieuse d’un texte lorsque celui-ci n’est pas reproduit pour le lecteur. La grande force méthodologique de cet ouvrage est de ne pas analyser la faute ancestrale d’un point de vue strictement théologique, mais de toujours remettre en contexte l’utilisation de la notion, afin d’illustrer pourquoi un auteur l’utilise pour faire passer un message à son public. En d’autres termes, c’est l’« agency » de la notion qui est étudiée plus que sa définition.

AUTEURS

AURIAN DELLI PIZZI F.R.S.-FNRS – Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 424

Flore KIMMEL-CLAUZET, Morts, tombeaux et cultes des poètes grecs

Marie-Claire Beaulieu

RÉFÉRENCE

Flore KIMMEL-CLAUZET, Morts, tombeaux et cultes des poètes grecs. Étude de la survie des grands poètes des époques archaïque et classique en Grèce ancienne, Bordeaux, Ausonius, 2013. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, 530 p. (Scripta Antiqua, 51). ISBN : 978–2–35613–081–5.

1 Dans cette étude, qui procède d’une thèse de doctorat défendue à l’Université Lyon 3 en 2008, Flore Kimmel-Clauzet interroge la survie des grands poètes grecs dans l’imaginaire religieux, politique et culturel de l’Antiquité. C’est bel et bien de survie qu’il est question, puisque la présence des poètes dans la société grecque continue de se faire sentir longtemps après leur mort. En effet, les performances répétées de leur poésie les gardent au centre des préoccupations culturelles des cités. De plus, et c’est le sujet du présent ouvrage, de nombreux récits biographiques particulièrement centrés sur la mort et la mise au tombeau des poètes circulent tout au long de l’Antiquité et témoignent de la personnalité qu’on a voulu prêter aux poètes en rapport avec leurs œuvres. Cette personnalité se modifie au fil du temps et de l’évolution des mentalités, comme le montrent bien les variations de l’histoire de la mort des poètes au cours des siècles. Ces récits sont souvent assortis de manifestations religieuses et de cultes, dont l’importance est soulignée par la diversité aussi bien que par la longévité et la distribution géographique.

2 Lorsqu’il s’agit de biographie ancienne, la question de l’historicité des informations reçues se pose d’emblée. L’A. prend position et affirme à juste titre, tout au long de l’ouvrage, que les biographies des poètes témoignent de la représentation qu’on se faisait d’eux à différents endroits et en différentes époques bien plus que des événements réels de leur vie. L’A. souligne également que la biographie, en tant que genre littéraire, est avant tout liée à l’encomium et « sert à justifier un jugement porté sur l’individu » (p. 16). De plus, toujours selon l’A., la biographie est liée à la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 425

paradoxographie et sert donc également de plaisir littéraire alimentant les conversations des lettrés. En somme, et c’est une attitude maintenant bien ancrée dans la critique, on ne doit pas chercher la véracité historique dans les biographies, mais bien la raison pour laquelle on attribuait certains faits aux différents poètes. Toutefois, une certaine tension demeure au cœur du problème : certains des éléments rapportés sont liés à des faits historiques vérifiables et un grand nombre d’autres sont tout à fait vraisemblables bien qu’indémontrables. L’A. fait assez grand cas de ce problème et elle distingue les (rares) faits véridiques de ceux qui sont seulement vraisemblables ou probablement fictifs dans son analyse des documents. De façon plus importante, elle remet toujours les faits rapportés dans le contexte historique des sources, ce qui permet de juger de l’influence des différentes situations culturelles ou géopolitiques sur les informations biographiques transmises par les Anciens. En effet, puisque même l’existence réelle de certains poètes comme Homère et Hésiode est douteuse (bien que les Anciens n’en aient pas douté), alors que d’autres, comme les Tragiques, ont bel et bien vécu, il est important de considérer leurs biographies non pas dans le cadre d’une recherche d’historicité, mais bien d’une recherche de sens.

3 Le choix des poètes à traiter dans l’étude est crucial. Deux approches sont possibles. La première est une approche synthétique qui interroge la notion de poète en général et prend ses exemples au sein des faits biographiques concernant un grand nombre de poètes grecs. La deuxième approche, choisie pour l’ouvrage qui nous intéresse, consiste à définir un groupe spécifique de poètes et à examiner leurs dossiers respectifs en détail et en relation les uns avec les autres. L’A. sélectionne les poètes à étudier en suivant le critère aristotélicien de la mimesis. Pour être considéré poète, il ne suffit pas d’écrire en vers, mais l’appellation concerne plutôt le choix du contenu et le mode d’énonciation. Les auteurs des Vies des poètes ont eux-mêmes suivi cette classification à l’époque hellénistique et l’homogénéité du corpus ainsi formé dans les sources justifie le choix d’Homère, Hésiode, Archiloque, Pindare, Eschyle, Sophocle et Euripide comme poètes à traiter dans l’étude. Leur statut de classiques, en opposition à des poètes plus récents comme par exemple Callimaque, était déjà reconnu à l’époque hellénistique et les distingue de leurs confrères. L’approche par corpus a l’avantage de permettre une étude approfondie de la personnalité et des faits attribués à chaque poète, ce qui se révèle utile si on veut comprendre le dossier d’un poète ou d’un type de poète en particulier. Toutefois, le lecteur reste sur sa faim en ce qui concerne la notion même de poète, une notion qui aurait pu être informée et expliquée à l’aide des récits et cultes concernant d’autres types de poètes ou d’activité poétique, comme les mythes de héros musiciens ou les récits concernant des poètes peut-être historiques dont l’œuvre ne nous est pas parvenue. On pense par exemple à l’histoire d’Arion, qui aborde directement la relation du poète avec le divin et avec la mort, ainsi que la question de l’inspiration poétique. En fait, l’A. elle-même pose la question de savoir pourquoi les poètes d’un passé proche, par rapport à un passé mythique, sont l’objet de constructions qui les rapprochent de figures mythiques (p. 14). Cette question semble appeler le traitement détaillé de figures comme celles d’Orphée, Arion, Linos, Musée et bien d’autres, qui ont joué un rôle important dans la culture et la religion grecques longtemps après leur « mort ». On se serait attendu à les voir prendre une plus grande place dans le présent ouvrage, mais un tel traitement aurait signifié une approche différente.

4 Le choix d’une approche par corpus motive l’organisation de l’ouvrage. Les chapitres sont regroupés en trois grandes parties, soit la construction légendaire de figures

Kernos, 27 | 2014 426

d’exception, la mise au tombeau des poètes et finalement les cultes des poètes. Chacune de ces grandes parties comprend un chapitre organisé par sections dans lesquelles les dossiers des sept poètes sont examinés individuellement et un chapitre qui aborde les questions de fond qui sous-tendent le dossier. En particulier, le chapitre « Des hommes d’exception », sur la figure exceptionnelle des grands poètes dans la société et le chapitre « Honneurs et cultes : questions de lexique », sur la dénomination des cultes des poètes dans la langue grecque, donnent une bonne vue d’ensemble des problèmes abordés dans l’ouvrage tout en étant fermement ancrés dans l’étude des documents. De plus, certains chapitres s’ouvrent par une discussion générale du sujet abordé. La discussion de la mort comme un des facteurs déterminants du statut spécial accordé aux poètes est des plus éclairantes (p. 35–38). L’A. souligne à juste titre que le récit de mort « fonde ce que le mort apporte aux vivants » et explique ainsi l’importance donnée aux légendes concernant la mort des poètes. La question de l’importance politique des poètes auxquels on offrait un culte, souvent en relation avec leur tombeau, est également très bien traitée. C’est particulièrement le cas pour la discussion concernant Homère, dont la patrie était disputée, ce qui a donné lieu à de grandes controverses et compétitions entre des cités rivales. L’A. fait preuve d’une grande finesse d’analyse dans son traitement des épigrammes funéraires des poètes, qui sont des objets littéraires bien intégrés aux traditions grecques, tout en soulignant l’évolution des personnalités et du genre de mort prêtés aux différents poètes. Pour rendre compte de ces concepts dans toute leur complexité, l’A. décrit les épigrammes par la très belle expression de « funérailles littéraires ». Finalement, la discussion de la nature des cultes célébrés en l’honneur des poètes en relation avec les cultes traditionnels montre bien, comme l’A. le souligne, que ces phénomènes étaient complètement intégrés à l’ensemble des pratiques religieuses grecques.

5 L’attention accordée aux sources primaires tout au long du volume est évidente dans les tableaux comparatifs des documents concernant les variations dans les récits de mort des poètes Pindare et Euripide et les occurrences des mots de la famille de τιμή dans le corpus. Ces tableaux, ainsi que la discussion en profondeur des dossiers documentaires concernant chaque poète (incluant les sources épigraphiques et le matériel archéologique) permettent d’aborder les sources primaires dans toute leur complexité interne et en relation les unes avec les autres. Une telle attention est remise en valeur dans les annexes, qui sont très longues (elles occupent pratiquement la moitié du volume). L’annexe I offre un corpus complet de documents sur chacun des poètes étudiés. L’annexe II donne une présentation individuelle des Vies et finalement l’annexe III fournit un répertoire des sources sur d’autres poètes non étudiés dans l’ouvrage. Les cartes géographiques présentées en fin de volume et la bibliographie thématique sélective sont également fort utiles. L’insistance sur les sources primaires et la bibliographie très complète permettent au lecteur de se plonger dans l’étude de la question et d’évaluer les arguments présentés dans l’ouvrage avec tous les matériaux nécessaires en main.

6 En somme, cet ouvrage se révélera une référence obligée pour tout chercheur intéressé par la place du poète dans la société grecque. Le poète, et d’autant plus le grand poète mort, tenait une position de premier plan chez les Grecs en tant qu’instance de communication avec les dieux, éducateur et marqueur d’identité. Comme l’A. le démontre bien, les poètes jouaient ce rôle autant pour les individus qui pratiquaient

Kernos, 27 | 2014 427

leur culte que pour les communautés qui se regroupaient autour de ces figures d’exception.

AUTEURS

MARIE-CLAIRE BEAULIEU Tufts University

Kernos, 27 | 2014 428

Paulin ISMARD, L’Événement Socrate

Aurian Delli Pizzi

RÉFÉRENCE

Paulin ISMARD, L’Événement Socrate, Paris, Flammarion, 2013. 1 vol. 13.5 × 22 cm, 301 p. ISBN : 978–2–0812–8541–5.

1 L’ouvrage de P. Ismard (P.I.) cherche à comprendre « le poids de l’événement que représente le procès de Socrate dans la mémoire occidentale » (p. 11). Cet objectif repose sur trois angles d’approche : il s’agit de saisir les enjeux du procès comme tel, d’utiliser cet « événement » comme clé d’analyse des institutions athéniennes contemporaines du procès, et d’étudier la réception du procès aux époques ultérieures. L’analyse est structurée autour de neuf chapitres, dans un langage fluide et aisé à lire. La première partie traite du procès à proprement parler et donne lieu à une bonne synthèse au chapitre 6 (« Circonscrire l’énigme »). L’A. juge anachronique la volonté de chercher la cause unique du procès, tant il y avait une série d’éléments qui, aux yeux de chaque juge, pouvaient justifier une condamnation de Socrate. La seconde partie de l’ouvrage se concentre sur la réception du procès.

2 Dans le premier chapitre (« L’affaire Socrate »), l’A. allègue la naissance d’un « champ intellectuel » pour expliquer les prises de position qui ont précédé et suivi la mort de Socrate — en n’hésitant pas à comparer Socrate à François d’Assise, pour permettre de saisir l’ampleur du phénomène. Il précise à juste titre que tout texte pris en compte doit être remis en perspective autant que possible, tant de nombreux logoi sokratikoi ont été perdus. Contrairement à ce qui est généralement affirmé, P.I. conteste que l’image de Socrate véhiculée par Aristophane soit celle de « l’homme de la rue » et que la pièce Les Nuées ait une dimension politique. De même, il essaie de situer le portrait platonicien dans le contexte polémique qui a suivi la mort du philosophe. Quant au texte d’accusation Contre Socrate, rédigé ultérieurement par Polycrate, il semble se focaliser sur la dimension politique du procès, laissant de côté l’impiété. Enfin, Isocrate, un auteur généralement peu pris en compte dans l’étude de la question, est également sollicité pour tenter d’éclaircir le problème.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 429

3 Le deuxième chapitre (« La cité au procès ») s’ouvre sur la constatation d’un paradoxe : le procès de Socrate est présenté par la recherche moderne comme un modèle de fonctionnement des institutions athéniennes, alors qu’il constitue l’unique procès pour délit d’opinion clairement attesté dans les sources. L’A. décrit le déroulement du procès sans ajouter rien de bien neuf à ce que l’on sait déjà, mais en posant bien toutes les questions suscitées par toute la procédure. Il attire l’attention sur l’importance croissante de la loi à cette époque, en citant l’attitude de Socrate dans l’affaire des Arginuses et sa réaction face aux Trente qui exigeaient qu’il mette à mort Léon de Salamine. Il attribue même les différents échos de cette importance de la loi, que l’on trouve dans plusieurs textes au début du IVe s., au « produit de la réflexion née dans le sillage du procès de Socrate » (p. 80).

4 Il conclut que la condamnation a été faite sur base d’une décision politique, dans la mesure où la notion de séparation des pouvoirs n’existait pas en Grèce antique. Cependant, il nuance directement cette affirmation dans le troisième chapitre (« Socrate l’oligarque »), où il replace l’épisode dans le contexte des rapports entre Socrate et les Trente. À côté de la dimension politique, l’A. ajoute qu’il faut également tenir compte de l’échelle chronologique dans laquelle se situe l’événement, par rapport à la guerre du Péloponnèse. Il reste par ailleurs circonspect sur la notion de « crise morale » ou « religieuse » avec l’apparition des sophistes à cette époque, montrant davantage l’inadéquation entre les pratiques éducatives de ceux-ci et les pratiques traditionnelles. Plusieurs éléments tendraient à présenter Socrate comme une victime du parti démocrate. Malgré l’amnistie de 403, on sent que, en 401–399, les partisans de la démocratie, ayant le vent en poupe, cherchent à châtier les anciens oligarques. En outre, la technê politikê prônée par Socrate va à l’encontre des fondements de la démocratie athénienne, puisque, aussi bien à travers les filtres de Platon que ceux de Xénophon, Socrate affirme que l’autorité politique vient du savoir. Au final, néanmoins, ce n’est pas tant cette théorie politique qui est cause de sa condamnation que « son inscription dans un réseau de sociabilité singulier qui conférait une coloration oligarchique à son attitude » (p. 115).

5 Le quatrième chapitre (« l’impiété socratique ») envisage les aspects proprement religieux du procès. L’A. attire l’attention sur le fait que le procès de Socrate doit être interprété dans un contexte particulier : l’année 399 a connu successivement trois procès concernant l’impiété (à des degrés différents), intentés contre Nicomachos et contre Andocide. Son point de vue critique sur les « procès d’impiété » soi-disant intentés aux Ve et IVe s. est tout à fait justifié, car ceux-ci reposent pour la plupart sur des constructions d’époques hellénistique et impériale (il retient néanmoins Diagoras et Damon comme cas probables de poursuites à l’égard d’intellectuels).

6 S’il contextualise très bien l’affaire, le rapport au divin, tel qu’il le définit dans son analyse, manque parfois de précision. Il affirme que l’eusebeia doit être comprise comme le fait de respecter la place assignée à chacun dans la société, et non uniquement comme un rapport au divin. Pour le coup, il aurait pu évoquer la notion d’ hosios. De plus, l’explication de l’A. sur la non-reconnaissance des dieux athéniens et sur l’introduction de nouvelles divinités n’est pas tout à fait convaincante : assez étonnamment, selon lui, la combinaison de ces deux griefs est difficile à comprendre. Par conséquent, pour expliquer le recours à ces deux accusations, il suggère qu’il s’agit d’une formulation juridique standard nécessaire dans une graphê asebeias. Ce point de vue assez rigide ne tient pas compte du concept d’open texture en droit grec1, ni du fait

Kernos, 27 | 2014 430

que la formulation de l’accusation en trois volets entre justement dans une démarche de manipulation par les accusateurs de Socrate. Enfin, en insistant sur le fait que, par « démon » de Socrate, il faut entendre des theoi, il arrive à une conclusion paradoxale par rapport à sa conception initiale de l’eusebeia : après avoir annoncé d’emblée que la piété est fondée sur les relations sociales, il oublie peu à peu ce postulat pour se concentrer sur l’aspect purement théologique.

7 Le chapitre 5 porte sur la corruption de la jeunesse athénienne par Socrate. Il compare l’éducation promulguée par Socrate à l’éducation pythagoricienne. Socrate subordonne la philia à l’utilité et au savoir, ce qui constitue une inflexion par rapport à la conception traditionnelle des relations entre parents et enfants. L’enseignement de Socrate, dont la gratuité lui permet de choisir ses interlocuteurs, est conçu comme un évergétisme et comme une philanthropia. Mais le fait qu’il puisse être analysé dans la logique du rapport erastês-erômenos explique qu’il puisse également être vu comme subversif.

8 Les trois derniers chapitres portent sur la réception de l’événement aux époques postérieures. Il est d’abord question de : « Socrate christianos », du Ier au Ve s. Le procès de Socrate exerce une influence dans la littérature juive hellénophone du Ier s., alors que quelques épisodes du Nouveau Testament reprennent des arguments déployés dans les textes entourant l’affaire. Socrate apparaît notamment comme une préfiguration du Christ, surtout chez Justin. Ce rapprochement repose sur le fait que Socrate et le Christ sont vus comme des martyres volontaires, s’opposant à une cité qui ne veut pas entendre leur message. Toutefois, à partir du IIIe s., qui voit l’avènement de la littérature apologétique latine, la puissance conférée à Jésus est telle que Socrate ne peut plus être vu comme son équivalent. À la Renaissance, la portée chrétienne de la figure de Socrate s’atténue peu à peu (chapitre 8 : « Le gentilhomme démocrate »). Dans le contexte florentin du XVe s. (Bruni, Manetti, Ficin), on insiste moins sur le martyre de Socrate que sur sa qualité de citoyen exemplaire. Dans un contexte de controverses théologiques, Érasme va un pas plus loin : sans s’intéresser au procès de Socrate comme tel, il suggère de lire les Évangiles à l’aune de Platon, plus que l’inverse. Montaigne désamorce également la lecture chrétienne du procès. Enfin, au XVIIIe s., où l’on se concentre sur la liberté d’expression, Socrate est vu comme un personnage exceptionnel et sa mort comme une grande injustice. Voltaire cite les juges qui n’ont pas voté pour mettre à mort Socrate pour montrer que la mort du philosophe était un malentendu. La figure de Socrate est également sollicitée lors de la Révolution : Robespierre notamment y recourt pour montrer les dangers de la démocratie directe. Cette généralité connaît quelques exceptions, comme l’œuvre de Nicolas Fréret, qui présente une offensive à l’égard du philosophe et une réhabilitation de la démocratie athénienne.

9 L’ouvrage a une forte portée pédagogique, ce qui rend l’exposé particulièrement agréable à lire. Sur le plan formel, on relève quelques coquilles2. Les descriptions de la situation athénienne sont enrichies de nombreuses comparaisons avec des périodes plus récentes (Révolution française, occupation pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale, …). L’ouvrage ne prétend pas révolutionner notre connaissance du procès (est-ce seulement possible ?) mais apporte çà et là d’intéressantes hypothèses. Surtout, la mise en regard du procès comme tel et de sa réception aux époques ultérieures constitue une grande originalité. Ce livre est désormais un passage obligé dans la longue liste d’ouvrages sur le sujet.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 431

NOTES

1. Sur cette notion, voir E.M. HARRIS, « Open Texture in Athenian Law », Dike 3 (2000), p. 29–79. 2. Voir l’incohérence entre hê politikê (p. 20) et ta politica (p. 21) ; « nous pourrrons » (p. 24) ; « prend partie » (p. 116) ; « Oxyrrinchos » (p. 126). On se demande qui est cet intrigant « Kalliop », qui est censé être auteur de comédie (p. 31).

AUTEURS

AURIAN DELLI PIZZI F.R.S.-FNRS – Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 432

Giovanni CASADIO, Patricia A. JOHNSTON (ed.), Mystic Cults in Magna Graecia

Ilaria Battiloro

NOTIZIA

Giovanni CASADIO, JOHNSTON Patricia A. (ed.), Mystic Cults in Magna Graecia, Austin, University of Texas Press, 2009. 1 vol. 16 × 23,5 cm, xv + 372 p. ISBN : 978–0–292–71902– 6.

1 Il volume collettaneo presenta diciassette studi raccolti per sezioni tematiche, incentrati su una selezione di culti misterici della Magna Grecia. I contributi costituiscono i proceedings di un simposio sponsorizzato dalla Società Virgiliana e dalla Brandeis University, tenutosi nella Villa Virgiliana di Cuma nel 2002. Il libro è corredato da una eccellente introduzione (p. 1–29), in cui Giovanni Casadio e Patricia A. Johnston, organizzatori del convegno cumano e curatori del volume, offrono una concisa ma efficace sintesi dello stato della ricerca sui culti misterici nel mondo antico, allo scopo di contestualizzare i contributi raccolti debitamente presentati e discussi (p. 20–24). Le sezioni tematiche del volume sono tre: la prima dedicata a Dioniso e Orfeo, la seconda incentrata su Demeter e Isis, ed infine la terza destinata al culto di Mitra. Seguono una bibliografia generale (p. 325–357), un indice generale (p. 359–366), un Index Locorum (p. 367–369) ed un indice degli autori citati (p. 371–372).

2 Nel primo contributo del volume, “Dionysus in Campania: Cumae” (p. 33–45), G. Casadio offre nuovi spunti di riflessione sul culto di Dioniso e sulla religiosità orfica a Cuma. L’A. riprende così il più ampio tema del culto dionisiaco in Magna Grecia, su cui ha posto l’accento in un articolo del 1995, in cui esamina le evidenze letterarie e archeologiche del culto di Dioniso in Bruzio, Lucania e Apulia-Calabria1. Come spiegato all’inizio della trattazione, “the place where the most pagan of all the gods of Mediterranean paganism — Dionysus-Bacchus — might have liked to spend his third age, without

Kernos, 27 | 2014 433

renouncing his most deeply ingrained habits, can ideally be identified with Campania” (p. 33). In Campania, infatti, il culto di Dioniso è attestato dalla metà del VI secolo a.C. (Cuma) alla metà del V sec. d.C. (Nola). A Cuma troviamo la più antica testimonianza del culto di Dioniso, ovvero la famosa iscrizione databile alla metà del V secolo a.C. che cita il verbo bakcheuesthai. Secondo Casadio, questa iscrizione costituisce la prova indisputabile che “in fifth-century Cumae, as elsewhere in the Greek world in different epochs, individuals of both sexes were customarily allowed to join the family of bakchoi, or sectatores Liberi Patris, by a procedure unknown in its ritual details but intimately familiar to us in its essence through the literary evidence” (p. 36). L’A. prosegue analizzando le testimonianze letterarie che consentono di collegare la pratica cultuale menzionata nell’iscrizione con il culto dionisiaco attestato all’epoca del tiranno Aristodemo Malakos, incentrato su una “ritual realization — by typical Dionysian procedures well known to us through other textual and figurative sources — of an “inverted world” within the sphere of gender roles” (p. 39).

3 Il significato dei termini βάκχος e βακχεύειν costituisce l’oggetto del saggio di A.J. San Cristóbal, “The Meaning of βάκχος and βακχεύειν in Orphism” (p. 46–60). Nel contesto dionisiaco i termini si riferiscono allo stato di mistica e catartica esaltazione raggiunto dai seguaci di Dioniso Bacco. Una accezione diversa va invece attribuita ai termini in contesto orfico. Secondo San Cristóbal la violenza implicita nel rituale del bakcheuein, quale è attestata in altri contesti religiosi, va esclusa in contesto orfico. L’orfismo, infatti, rifiutava pratiche cruente: “Orphism, then, is different from other manifestations of Dionysism in that, for Orphics, βακχεύειν is not a transient action, a passing delirium, but a continuous exercise through which one can attain a permanent state of holiness” (p. 51). I βάκχοι si pongono allo stesso livello della divinità venerata, in una unione/identificazione tra divinità e devoto.

4 In “New Contributions of Dionysiac Iconography to the History of Religions in Greece and Italy” (p. 61–72), C. Isler-Kerényi analizza l’iconografia di Dioniso quale è attestata sui vasi greci di VII e VI secolo a.C. L’importanza di questi vasi per la ricostruzione della storia del culto di Dioniso sta nel fatto che la datazione degli stessi è molto precisa, il che consente “to establish a connection between the history of the images and the history of religions” (p. 61). L’A. sceglie di prendere in esame i temi iconografici che meglio contribuiscono alla ricostruzione del culto dionisiaco, evidenziando così il ruolo centrale svolto dal dio quale garante della stabilità della polis. Particolare attenzione viene prestata al ruolo giocato da Dioniso nella processione per le nozze di Peleo e Teti (tema che celebra la centralità dell’oikos nel sistema cittadino creato da Solone) quale “guarantor of the stability of the cosmos” e “peace-maker of the Olympic family” (p. 63). A partire dal terzo quarto del VI secolo l’iconografia di Dioniso cambia notevolmente e fornisce indicazioni preziose sui riti connessi al dio del vino, tra cui un rituale che vede protagonisti efebi di Atene ritornati nella città dopo un periodo di allontanamento.

5 I contributi di Edmonds e Bernabé sono entrambi incentrati sull’orfismo. Edmonds (“Who Are You? Mythic Narrative and Identity in the “Orphic” Gold Tablets” [p. 73–94]) si sofferma sulle componenti strutturali della narrazione delle tavolette orfiche: l’ostacolo che il defunto si trova a dover fronteggiare, la soluzione fornita dalla tavoletta che consente al defunto di superare l’ostacolo, e infine il risultato ottenuto. In particolare, l’A. analizza tre tavolette campione da Thurii, A1, A2 ed A3. Se in queste tavolette poca attenzione viene prestata alla descrizione della natura dell’ostacolo,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 434

centrale risulta invece la dichiarazione della identità del defunto quale soluzione all’ostacolo incontrato: il defunto si proclama puro e appartenente alla progenie degli dei.

6 Nell’articolo complementare al saggio di Edmonds (“Imago Inferorum Orphica” [p. 95– 130]), A. Bernabé esamina la documentazione testuale e iconografica relativa all’immagine dell’aldilà nella religione orfica. In particolare, l’A. mette in luce le differenze con la rappresentazione del mondo dei morti della religione olimpica. L’aldilà quale ci è descritto nei testi orfici è un luogo sotterraneo retto da Persefone. Dotato di edifici, è diviso in due parti: una strada conduce ad un locus amoenus ed un’altra, per non iniziati, conduce ad un luogo di terrore e punizioni corporali. A differenza di quanto sostenuto da M. Schmidt (“Orfeo e orfismo nella pittura vascolare italiota,” in Orfismo in Magna Grecia. Atti del Quattordicesimo Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto, 6–10 ottobre 1974, Napoli 1975, p. 129), Bernabé ritiene che l’aldilà, quale ci è descritto nei testi orfici, coincida con le rappresentazioni presenti sulla ceramica apula.

7 Nell’ultimo articolo della sezione dedicata a Dioniso e all’orfismo (“Putting Your Mouth Where Your Money Is: Eumolpus’ Will, Pasta e Fagioli, and the Fate of the Soul in South Italian Thought from Pythagoras to Ennius” [p. 131–136]), R.D. Griffith esamina il passo di Petronio in cui Eumolpo fa leggere il suo testamento davanti ai suoi eredi, chiedendo loro di mangiare il suo corpo in pubblico quale condizione per accedere all’eredità (Sat. 141). Questo passo del Satyricon costituisce il punto di partenza per discutere le dottrine pitagoriche sulla reincarnazione, che Griffith ritiene originarie dell’Italia meridionale.

8 La seconda sezione del volume, dedicata a Demeter e Isis, si apre con il contributo di G. Sfameni Gasparro “Aspects of the Cult of Demeter in Magna Graecia: The ‘Case’ of San Nicola di Albanella” (p. 139–160). Allo scopo di gettare luce su alcuni aspetti del culto di Demeter Thesmophoros in Italia meridionale, l’A. prende in considerazione le evidenze archeologiche dal santuario di San Nicola di Albanella a Posidonia-Paestum. L’analisi delle terrecotte votive consente di ricostruire la natura del culto prestato a San Nicola, che prevedeva una attiva partecipazione di fedeli di sesso maschile (in contrasto con quanto si riscontra nella Grecia continentale). Il caso di San Nicola conferma la varietà e la ricchezza delle forme rituali legate al culto di Demeter, che hanno originato “a dense constellation of cults deeply rooted in the territory that were able to adapt to the various socio-cultural and religious situations of the numerous communities in the Greek world” (p. 156).

9 Nel contributo seguente (“Landscape Synchesis: A Demeter Temple in Latium [p. 161– 189]) viene preso in esame un piccolo tempio ubicato fuori Roma e dedicato da Erode Attico alle dee Ceres e Ops/Nemesis, in occasione della morte di sua moglie Annia Regilla. Secondo l’A., la dedica di questo tempio costituisce un gesto di synchesis, in cui Erode ricollega se stesso alla dea delle leggi al fine di proclamare la propria innocenza nella morte prematura della moglie.

10 Sulla scia dei contributi di Edmonson e Bernabé, in “The Eleusinian Mysteries and Vergil’s ‘Appearance-of-a-Terrifying-Female-Apparition-in-the-Underworld’ Motif in Aeneid 6” (p. 190–203) R.J. Clark affronta il problema della topografia del mondo dei morti. In particolare l’A. analizza un passo dell’Eneide in cui Enea leva la spada contro le Gorgoni ed altre creature mostruose da lui incontrate nella casa di Pluto (Aen. 6.285– 294). Questo passo viene confrontato con altre descrizioni di discesa nel mondo dei morti, che Eduard Norden2 considera influenzate da una descrizione epica ormai

Kernos, 27 | 2014 435

perduta della discesa di Eracle Eleusinio nell’aldilà. Secondo Griffith il racconto virgiliano non può, tuttavia, essere associato ai misteri eleusini.

11 In “Women and Nymphs at the Grotta Caruso” (p. 204–216) B. MacLachlan si sofferma sulle attività rituali femminili attestate a Grotta Caruso (vicino Locri). Questo sito, infatti, “gives us a unique opportunity to view the centrality of women in Locri, and reveals their participation in areas we routinely associate with men, such as the theater or rituals celebrating a divinized hero” (p. 206). Dall’analisi del deposito votivo di Grotta Caruso si evince il ruolo giocato, oltre che da Persefone, dalle Ninfe, Pan e Dioniso (il cui culto è associato all’Orfismo). Il carattere ctonio del culto locrese è inoltre testimoniato dalla presenza dell’eroe locale Euthymos su alcune placche in terracotta rinvenute nel sito.

12 Il contributo successivo, “Great Royal Spouse Who Protects Her Brother Osiris”: Isis in the Isaeum at Pompeii” (p. 217–234), esamina il ruolo di Iside e Osiride nel pantheon romano. F. Brenk sottolinea la differenza tra Roma, in cui nel II secolo d.C. Osiride era una divinità di primaria importanza, e Pompei, in cui, al contrario, è Iside ad essere “the predominant divinity” (p. 217), come dimostrano i materiali provenienti dal tempio di Iside, che è uno dei primi edifici ad essere restaurati a Pompei dopo il terremoto del 62 d.C. L’A. ritiene che tale differenza vada attribuita alla immagine rivestita dalle due divinità agli occhi degli imperatori: se il tempio di Pompei “would have originally […] fit into the religious, social, and political currents of the Augustan age” (p. 219), Domiziano privilegiò invece per ragioni politiche il culto di Osiride.

13 Il culto di Iside in Italia meridionale costituisce l’oggetto anche del saggio seguente, “Aegyptiaca from Cumae: New Evidence for Isis Cult in Campania: Site and Materials” (p. 235–250). Il direttore degli scavi di Cuma, P. Caputo, presenta una breve sintesi dei risultati delle indagini svolte nel sito, che hanno rivelato la presenza di un complesso dotato di piscina da identificarsi con un Isaeum. L’analisi dei materiali rinvenuti corrobora la tesi secondo la quale il culto egiziano era praticato a Cuma e l’edificio menzionato era appunto dedicato a Iside.

14 Nell’ultimo articolo dedicato al culto di Demeter ed Isis, P.A. Johnston analizza le attestazioni dei culti misterici nelle Georgiche virgiliane (“The Mystery Cults and Vergil’s Georgics”[p. 251–273]). A differenza di quanto si riscontra nell’Eneide, infatti, nelle Georgiche troviamo una serie di riferimenti a culti egiziani ed isiaci. I riferimenti all’Egitto contenuti nell’Eneide hanno invece un tono generalmente negativo, atteggiamento probabilmente dovuto alla visione che Augusto doveva avere dell’Egitto all’indomani degli eventi bellici di Azio.

15 L’ultima, e più breve, sezione del volume è dedicata al culto di Mitra e si compone di tre contributi. I primi due sono entrambi incentrati sul Mithraeum di Capua Vetere. Nel primo articolo (“The Amor and Psyche Relief in the Mithraeum of Capua Vetere: An Exceptional Case of Graeco-Roman Syncretism or an Ordinary Instance of Human Cognition?” [p. 277–289]), L.H. Martin, applicando le teorie del cognitivismo agli studi sul Mitraismo, pone l’accento sulla natura sincretistica del culto di Mitra, testimoniata dal rilievo di Amor e Psyche rinvenuto nel Mithraeum di Capua Vetere, “the only known presence of these popular Greek figures in a sanctuary devoted to the Roman deity Mithras” (p. 277). Diversi elementi aiutano a rilevare come i rituali legati a questo culto si differenzino notevolmente a seconda del luogo in cui il culto è praticato.

16 Il contributo di R. Gordon, intitolato “The Mithraic Body: The Example of the Capua Mithraeum” (p. 290–313), presenta una analisi accurata degli affreschi del Mithraeum

Kernos, 27 | 2014 436

capuano allo scopo di gettare luce sulle partiche iniziatiche del culto di Mitra. In particolare, l’A. analizza le iconografie degli iniziati quali sono attestate negli affreschi capuani e istituisce un parallelo tra le figure degli iniziati degli affreschi analizzati e le raffigurazioni dei martiri cristiani.

17 Chiude la sezione dedicata al Mitraismo il saggio di F. Palmer “Why the Shoulder?: A Study of the Placement of the Wound in the Mithraic Tauroctony” (p. 314–323). Il tema del contributo è forse l’aspetto più studiato del culto di Mitra, ovvero la tauroctonia. L’A., tuttavia, si sofferma sugli aspetti più ‘tecnici’ del sacrificio e in particolare sulla ferita inferta alla spalla del toro (piuttosto che alla gola, come comunemente attestato nel sacrificio animale nel mondo antico). La spalla del toro compare anche in scene diverse dalla tauroctonia, per esempio nella scena in cui Mitra minaccia Helios con la zampa anteriore dell’animale come se fosse una clava. Secondo l’A., la zampa del toro diviene “a symbol of Mithras’ superiority over the other god” (p. 317). Tale simbolismo trova origine nella mitologia egiziana. Questo dato porta l’A. ad interpretare la scena di tauroctonia come “the initial stroke of the knife in the process of dismembering the bull’s leg” (p. 322).

18 L’opera curata da Casadio e Johnston, che raccoglie i contributi di un considerevole ventaglio di studiosi diversi per scuola e interessi, rispetta certamente l’intenzione dei curatori di “contribute new insights” (p. 20) alla ricerca nel campo dei culti misterici in Italia meridionale. Il merito principale del volume è nella varietà di approcci metodologici e tematiche affrontate. Inoltre, la presenza di numerosi saggi che offrono nuovi spunti di riflessione per ricerche future sui culti misterici nel mondo antico fa del volume un’opera indispensabile a quanti si occupano di “mystery religions” e di religione antica in generale.

NOTE

1. G. CASADIO, “Dioniso italiota: Un dio greco in Italia meridionale,” in Forme di religiosità e tradizioni sapienziali in Magna Grecia, Pisa/Roma, 1995, p. 79–107. 2. E. NORDEN, P. Vergilius Maro: Aeneis Buch VI, 3d ed., Leipzig and Berlin, 1926.

AUTORI

ILARIA BATTILORO Mount Allison University

Kernos, 27 | 2014 437

Angelos CHANIOTIS (éd.), Unveiling Emotions

Philippe Borgeaud

RÉFÉRENCE

Angelos CHANIOTIS (éd.), Unveiling Emotions. Sources and Methods for the Study of Emotions in the Greek World, Stuttgart, Franz Steiner Verlag, 2012. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, 490 p. (HABES, 52). ISBN : 978–3–515–10226–1.

1 Le programme exposé dans ce livre collectif est issu des travaux dirigés par Angelos Chaniotis à l’université d’Oxford dans le cadre d’une recherche sur « La construction sociale et culturelle des émotions. Le paradigme grec » (2009–2013). Ce livre a pour intention de proposer des sources et des méthodes ; il ne se présente pas comme la synthèse des résultats de cette recherche, mais bien plutôt comme une série de questions ouvertes, autant de pistes à suivre. On ne s’étonnera pas de voir cités, en exergue, quelques vers d’Anna Stavrakopoulou (traduits par Angelos Chaniotis, p. 7), et de retrouver, à l’intérieur, un très beau texte de Cavafy (non traduit, p. 91). L’historien de l’Antiquité classique apparaît destiné à son tour (après les médiévistes et les modernistes) à devenir (entre autres et lui aussi) un historien des émotions, emporté dans le vaste mouvement de redécouverte du corps et des sensations, de revalorisation de l’aspect charnel et humain qui, depuis le début des années 80, lui impose de ne plus privilégier les aspects simplement sociaux, politiques, économiques ou constitutionnels de la vie des cités.

2 « Dévoiler les émotions », cela revient à les débusquer là où on ne les attend guère. De nombreuses et très importantes études, depuis une quinzaine d’années, ont débroussaillé le terrain grec des émotions explicites rencontrées dans les domaines littéraires et philosophiques. Fortenbaugh, Konstan, Kaster et bien d’autres ont investigué les spécificités des vocabulaires grec et latin des émotions, les théories qui en rendent compte chez les philosophes, et l’histoire de leurs évolutions dans le monde antique1. Ce qui n’avait pas encore été fait, et ce que les A. de ce livre revendiquent haut

Kernos, 27 | 2014 438

et fort comme une nouveauté qui devrait s’imposer, c’est l’étude des émotions sur le terrain même de l’histoire des cités, dans la pragmatique du politique et aussi dans celle de la vie privée (quand on peut avoir l’impression d’y avoir accès, à travers la papyrologie notamment). En ce qui concerne les émotions « réelles » des Anciens, il s’agit d’un vœu pieux. Mais s’il est simplement question de rapprocher l’émotionnel de l’historique, dans un sens large, cela suppose seulement, et tel est le point de vue d’Angelos Chaniotis, d’élargir considérablement le champ d’investigation, du côté de l’épigraphie, de la papyrologie, de l’archéologie et aussi, s’agissant des documents littéraires, en direction de textes comme les Deipnosophistes d’Athénée, l’Anthologie de Stobée, les Paroemographi et les scholies. La prise en compte de ce type de documentation par les historiens des mœurs et des idées, est-il besoin de le dire, n’a pas attendu le « tournant affectif » (le so-called affective turn) pour exister. Mais elle peut apparaître nouvelle en effet, dans ce secteur particulier, lui-même nouveau, de cette nouvelle histoire que serait l’histoire des émotions.

3 Dans son essai introductif, Angelos Chaniotis souligne la nécessité d’élargir le champ documentaire, pour éviter de rester confiné dans une période relativement courte et surtout dans un espace restreint, essentiellement centré sur Athènes (p. 25). Il le fait en situant sa propre perspective dans le contexte des prises de position épistémologiques qui dominent actuellement le champ des sciences affectives. On remarquera que Chaniotis met en évidence la faculté politique de créer des émotions, de les théatraliser ou de les instrumentaliser. Chaniotis évite pourtant, en abordant ces phénomènes très importants pour l’historien, de se munir de définitions claires et définitives ; il n’hésite pas à considérer parfois sur le même plan ce qui constitue à proprement parler l’épisode émotionnel, un épisode de courte durée, aux implications physiologiques fortes, et ce qui peut être désigné comme un sentiment (feeling), ou une passion de longue durée. De même, alors que le projet tout entier de ce livre semble être une tentative de plonger dans la réalité vécue (en deçà des théories philosophiques et des réaménagements littéraires), on y évite, sauf dans l’essai final dû à une experte en linguistique, d’affronter sérieusement la question de l’inéluctable rupture entre la réalité de l’émotion et son expression, toujours médiatisée.

4 L’enquête proprement dite s’ouvre sur l’examen de dossiers papyrologiques entendus comme documents révélateurs du « théâtre des expériences humaines ». Chrysi Kotsifou (p. 39–90) présente quelques textes témoignant d’une large palette affective, où elle ne cherche pas à distinguer entre émotions et sentiments. Pour ne citer que quelques exemples, elle aborde la sollicitude d’une sœur pour sa cadette ; la reconnaissance par un vieillard, dans son testament, des soins reçus de son épouse ; les sentiments exprimés par un individu lors d’une procédure de divorce ou à l’occasion d’un récit de rêve. La question se pose de savoir si l’on peut discerner, dans la longue durée de la documentation papyrologique, des évolutions ou des transformations du champ affectif. L’A. relève une intensification des expressions émotionnelles à l’époque impériale, et quelques changements de vocabulaire avec le christianisme. Elle souligne l’importance de l’ethnicité, quand un individu évoque son origine grecque pour se plaindre d’avoir été humilié par une Égyptienne, où quand s’expriment mépris ou hostilité vis-à-vis des Judéens. La peur de l’humiliation est une constante. Les sentiments familiaux sont parmi les mieux documentés. La papyrologie permet ainsi une plongée dans l’univers affectif de l’Égypte ptolémaïque et romaine, mais l’émotion

Kernos, 27 | 2014 439

proprement dite, avec description de ses manifestations gestuelles, ne fait l’objet que d’une finale et brève analyse, dans ce chapitre (p. 81–85).

5 Angelos Chaniotis introduit la documentation épigraphique sous le beau titre de « Moving stones », par le rappel d’un texte de Cavafy (p. 91–129). L’émotion, en effet, c’est ce qui permet de rêver, avec le poète, l’impossible transformation de la pierre et de la mémoire figée de l’inscription en chair vivante et colorée. La peur et l’espérance dessinent dans le champ épigraphique un axe autour duquel se déploient les témoignages de reconnaissance, de deuil, de consolation, de confessions. L’émotion intervient alors comme un agent de persuasion. Exprimer une émotion revient à susciter chez le lecteur de l’inscription le sentiment d’un lien personnel avec l’absent, celui que l’on loue, qui souffre ou qui est mort. L’A. fait intervenir ici la notion d’ energeia (p. 107–109), qui renvoie à l’effort des orateurs ou des poètes pour créer chez l’auditeur ou le lecteur l’impression d’être un témoin visuel de la scène qui est décrite. Les normes culturelles, les conventions sociales agissent toutefois, il faut le reconnaître, comme des filtres par rapport à l’expression des émotions dans les inscriptions. L’A. nous invite à examiner la dynamique des relations entre émotions individuelles et normes collectives, leurs interactions mutuelles, qui entraînent la reconnaissance de « communautés émotionnelles ». Il faut aussi observer les transformations qui interviennent quand on change d’environnement, le rôle joué par les émotions dans les stratégies de persuasion, l’impact des interactions genrées, des classes d’âge, des différences de niveaux sociaux, etc…

6 La documentation archéologique (architecture, paysages, objets et œuvres d’art) fait l’objet d’une « introduction méthodologique » par Jane Masséglia (p. 131–150). On relèvera, avec elle, qu’un des termes pour désigner une statue, agalma, renvoie à la notion de plaisir lié à la pratique de la dédicace, le dédicant s’efforçant d’engendrer une réception positive de la part du dieu, dans le geste même où il se fait plaisir à lui-même. L’espace archéologique est lui aussi porteur d’émotions. Ne serait-ce que par la distinction qu’il opère entre un extérieur et un intérieur, via des zones liminales plus ou moins développées (comme les propylées). L’A. propose quelques indications de recherches, à accomplir à partir de l’identification de la communauté émotionnelle qui est à l’origine du monument, avant de donner deux exemples : celui de Rhénée dans son lien à Délos ; et le contexte qui permet d’interpréter, sous l’angle émotionnel, un carquois d’argent ciselé déposé dans une tombe à Vergina.

7 Les sources littéraires, et leur élargissement souhaité en direction des arts oratoires, de la biographie, des proverbes et des scholies sont présentés, à l’aide de quelques exemples, par Ed Sanders (p. 151–173).

8 Après ce parcours des « sources », la deuxième partie de cet ouvrage aborde les émotions dans le cadre des interactions entre dieux et mortels. Paraskevi Martzavou (p. 177–204) nous conduit à Épidaure, où elle analyse les récits de rêve comme des textes destinés à préparer émotionnellement le malade à l’expérience de l’incubation, en le persuadant d’espérer. Pour arriver à cette conclusion, l’A. tient compte à la fois de l’emplacement que les iamata occupent dans le sanctuaire (à l’entrée précisément de l’ abaton), et de leur composition (et recompositions successives), qu’elle soupçonne avoir été délibérée(s), et dont elle montre la progression narrative à travers les étapes de l’anxiété, du choc, du soulagement et de l’espoir.

9 Angelos Chaniotis réintervient alors, avec un essai synthétique sur la peur des dieux dans la documentation épigraphique, une peur conçue comme expérience constitutive

Kernos, 27 | 2014 440

de la croyance, qui s’exprime notamment dans les oracles, les règlements de sanctuaires, les stèles de confession et de commémoration d’une punition divine (p. 204–234).

10 Les appels à la justice (« Prayers for Justice »), étudiés par Irene Salvo (p. 235–266), prolongent ce dossier. Ce sont des appels adressés à un ou des dieux pour punir un coupable, et qu’il faut distinguer, à la suite de Henk Versnel, des defixiones, dans la mesure où, contrairement à ces derniers, ils sont de caractère narratif, exposant les tenants et aboutissants de la cause. Leur fonction, selon l’A., serait d’adoucir et de réfréner les sentiments de frustration et de colère appelant à la vengeance.

11 Paraskevi Martzavou poursuit cette enquête par un examen des arétalogies d’Isis comme source pour l’étude des émotions (p. 267–291). Elle construit son argumentation à partir d’un dossier limité et d’une notion quelque peu problématique, celle d’« initiation », qu’elle expose de manière imaginative en se référant au modèle des Métamorphoses d’Apulée (dont elle affirme, d’après Festugière, le caractère « autobiographique »), et en ignorant la documentation égyptienne pourtant bien connue et importante. L’enracinement égyptien des arétalogies d’Isis n’est pourtant pas contestable2. En opposant (p. 282), ce qui est une donnée égyptienne (la relation d’Isis à Osiris et à Horus), à ce qui serait une donnée sans fondement (Isis, fille de Cronos, invente l’agriculture), l’A. semble ignorer aussi l’interprétation classique d’Isis en Déméter, que les arétalogues exploitaient bel et bien quant à eux.

12 La suite de l’ouvrage reproduit la même répartition des chapitres, entre épigraphie, papyrologie et archéologie. La quatrième partie, consacrée aux émotions dans l’espace publique, s’ouvre sur une étude des acclamations publiques, telles qu’elles sont commémorées dans les inscriptions : Christina Kuhn (p. 295–316) les considère comme un témoignage à prendre à la lettre, la capture « d’un moment particulier d’interaction émotionnelle, et du sentiment de communauté et de solidarité » (p. 297). Les conventions formulaires ne seraient que des outils adaptables aux situations spécifiques. Par ailleurs, on observerait, au IIe s. de notre ère, un développement remarquable des procès-verbaux d’acclamation, ce qui serait à interpréter dans le sens d’une intensification de l’émotionnel dans la communication politique.

13 Une plaignante nommée Artémis s’adresse au préfet d’Égypte, en 280 de notre ère, dans une lettre que Chrysi Kotsifou présente (p. 317–327) comme révélatrice d’une stratégie de persuasion à examiner dans une approche « genrée ».

14 Jane Masséglia présente (p. 329–355), sous l’angle affectif, un dossier archéologique relatif au processus de décision lors de constructions, de destructions ou de réadaptations de monuments dans la cité d’Ephèse.

15 La quatrième partie réunit un ensemble assez hétéroclite, sous l’appellation d’« Emotions en communication interpersonnelle » : l’analyse des appels à la haine, des manifestations de colère et de ressentiment dans les plaidoiries des orateurs attiques, par Ed Sanders (p. 359–387), permet de préciser ce qui apparaît comme une technique de suscitation des émotions ; les lettres papyrologiques invitent Chrysi Kotifou (389– 411) à réfléchir sur l’expression du deuil et de la consolation ; deux variantes sculpturales de la vieille femme ivre (Musée du Capitole et Glyptothèque de Münich) font enfin l’objet d’un dernier chapitre, rédigé par Jane Masséglia (p. 413–430).

16 La conclusion générale est confiée, sous la rubrique « Envoi » (p. 431–468), à une linguiste, Maria Theodoropoulou, qui expose de manière très utile et précise, mais sans

Kernos, 27 | 2014 441

lien (sinon occasionnels) avec les chapitres précédents, la question de la différence entre émotion et sentiment, ainsi que celle, ô combien difficile, du rapport entre l’expérience émotionnelle et ses expressions littéraires, iconiques ou autres. Elle aborde explicitement, à l’aide de la linguistique mais aussi de l’anthropologie (un domaine insuffisamment exploré par les autres contributions), le problème de l’universalité des émotions, qui se heurte au relativisme des vocabulaires et des perceptions culturelles. L’A. insiste à juste titre sur l’importance des métaphores. Elle laisse percevoir qu’elle n’est pas toujours convaincue par les approches proposées par les auteurs de cette recherche (cf. notamment p. 443, où elle rappelle que les textes, auxquels les chercheurs se réfèrent comme à des témoignages, sont entre autres choses dépourvus d’éléments essentiels, de nature pragmatique, para-linguistique : voix, tonalité, rythme, etc.)

17 Il peut paraître surprenant que l’on doive attendre cet essai, venu de l’extérieur de la recherche proprement dite, pour voir posées de manière frontale les questions méthodologiques cruciales que soulèvent les outils conceptuels adoptés par les contributeurs, dans leur rapport aux documents abordés.

18 Cela explique pourquoi l’approche documentaire élargie proposée par Angelos Chaniotis, ce plaidoyer pour une histoire des émotions antiques, demeure finalement un essai collectif d’« histoire quotidienne des émotions antiques ». En tant que tel, ce livre ne manque ni d’intérêt, ni d’élégance.

NOTES

1. Voir notamment W. F ORTENBAUGH, Aristotle on Emotion, London, Duckworth, 1975 ; Robert KASTER, Emotion, Restraint, and Community in Ancient Rome, New York/Oxford, 2005 ; David KONSTAN, The Emotions of the Ancient Greeks: Studies in Aristotle and Classical Literature, Toronto, University of Toronto Press, 2006 (Collection The Robson classical lectures) ; Margaret GRAVER, Stoicism and Emotion, Chicago, Chicago University Press, 2008. 2. Outre la fameuse litanie de P. Oxyr. 1380 (Ier–IIe s. après), cf. les hymnes d’Isidore de Narmouthis (Iers. avant) chez Fr. VANDERLIP, The Four Greek Hymns of Isidorus and the Cult of Isis, Toronto, 1972 (American Studies in Papyrology, 12) ; les textes égyptiens de Philae : L.V. ZABKAR, Hymns to Isis in Her Temple at Philae, Hanover/London, 1988 ; Holger KOCKELMANN, Praising the Goddess. A Comparative and Annotated Re-Edition of Six Demotic Hymns and Praises Addressed to Isis, Berlin/New York, 2008 (Archiv für Papyrusforschung, Beiheft 15) ; Les cultes isiaques dans le monde gréco-romain, documents réunis, traduits et commentés par Laurent BRICAULT, Paris, Les Belles Lettres, 2013, p. 72–77.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 442

AUTEURS

PHILIPPE BORGEAUD Université de Genève

Kernos, 27 | 2014 443

Richard BOUCHON, Pascale BRILLET- DUBOIS, Nadine LE MEUR-WEISSMAN (éd.), Hymnes de la Grèce antique

Renaud Gagné

RÉFÉRENCE

Richard BOUCHON, Pascale BRILLET-DUBOIS, Nadine LE MEUR-WEISSMAN (éd.), Hymnes de la Grèce antique. Approches littéraires et historiques. Actes du colloque international de Lyon, 19– 21 juin 2008, Lyon, Maison de l’Orient et de la Méditerranée, 2012. 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, 408 p. (Collection de la Maison de l’Orient et de la Méditerranée, 50 ; Série littéraire et philosophique, 17). ISBN : 978–2–35668–031–0.

1 Ce volume rassemble les actes d’un colloque international tenu à Lyon en juin 2008. Le volume contient vingt-deux contributions organisées en trois sections : « Hymne et procédure hymnique », « Commenter un hymne homérique », et « Hymne, histoire religieuse et théologie ». Certains textes sont en français, les autres en anglais. Une copieuse bibliographie, une vingtaine d’images et figures, un index des auteurs et textes cités, un index des inscriptions, un index des noms propres, et un excellent index des notions complètent le tout. Exception faite de quelques inévitables coquilles et erreurs, le travail éditorial est impeccable. Le fait le plus important à noter est que le mariage des approches littéraires et historiques est largement réussi. La décision de mélanger les travaux consacrés aux hymnes du canon poétique avec ceux qui s’intéressent plus spécifiquement au matériel épigraphique permet d’encourager le dialogue entre des domaines qui restent encore trop souvent séparés dans la recherche. Plutôt que de viser un trop simple renversement de la situation en déconstruisant la traditionnelle opposition entre cultic hymns et literary hymns, les éditeurs du volume ont favorisé des travaux qui privilégient une remise en question raisonnée des limites souvent poreuses, mais tout aussi souvent justifiables qui séparent les hymnes du « culte » de leurs congénères moins intégrés à l’activité rituelle. Le résultat est une

Kernos, 27 | 2014 444

heureuse suite de raffinements apportés aux modèles en place. Ceci étant dit, la majorité des contributions s’attaque à des questions plus spécifiquement « littéraires » qu’historiques, et l’intérêt principal du volume est de proposer des lectures nouvelles de textes bien connus du canon poétique. Si certaines sources importantes, comme les hymnes isiaques ou le matériel de la tragédie, ne sont prises en charge par aucune contribution, c’est bien sûr qu’il aurait été impossible de tout couvrir dans un volume de cette taille. La part du lion revient aux Hymnes homériques, un choix qui se défend bien au vu de l’immense effort de recherche consacré à ce corpus dans les dernières années, et les pistes de la fine pointe du travail récent sont poursuivies dans le volume. La qualité des contributions est en général élevée. « Hymnes de la Grèce antique » n’est pas l’ouvrage d’une école ou d’un pays : la pluralité des points de vue représentés est étendue et rafraîchissante.

2 La section « Hymne et procédure hymnique » contient huit chapitres. Les quatre premiers, tous dédiés à des textes des époques archaïque et classique, s’attachent à des questions d’ordre énonciatif et générique. Dans « Commencer à chanter », Françoise Létoublon analyse les formules d’ouverture et de clôture des Hymnes homériques. S’appuyant sur une classification commentée du matériel, elle cherche à démontrer que la formularité des Hymnes homériques « repose sur une tradition poétique proche de l’épopée plutôt que sur les conventions de la prière ». Dans « À qui l’aède raconte‑t-il l’histoire du dieu ? Figures du narrataire dans les hymnes homériques », Christine Hunzinger vise à éclaircir le rapport entre deux régimes discursifs différents dans le corpus des Hymnes homériques : les récits à la troisième personne et les passages où un rapport privilégié entre le locuteur et le dieu est établi par l’apostrophe. À travers une suite de lectures serrées, centrées sur l’Hymne homérique à Apollon et l’Hymne homérique à Pan, elle questionne l’effet poétique de chaque mode de régime discursif sur l’économie du texte hymnique, et la logique des changements souvent abrupts qu’on peut y trouver d’un mode à l’autre. Avec « Procédures hymniques dans les vers des sages cosmologues : pragmatique de la poésie didactique », Claude Calame s’intéresse à la dynamique performative des invocations hymniques chez Hésiode, Théognis, Empédocle et Parménide. Sous le signe des euphêmois muthois kai katharoisi logois de Xénophane, il analyse les rôles particuliers que les formes de l’hymne jouent à l’ouverture de chaque texte. « Les dithyrambes de Pindare et Bacchylide sont-ils des hymnes ? », de Nadine Le Meur-Weissman, propose en première partie un excellent survol des définitions et taxinomies antiques du dithyrambe, notamment de ses liens avec Dionysos. Le reste du chapitre étudie ce qui différencie les fragments dithyrambiques de Pindare et Bacchylide, et ce qui les rattache.

3 Deux autres chapitres s’intéressent à diverses questions de réception et d’intertextualité. « Hermès : double divin du sophiste Protagoras ? Lecture intertextuelle de l’Hymne homérique à Hermès et de Protagoras de Platon », de Maria Vamvouri Ruffy, présente une lecture du dialogue qui lie le texte de Platon et l’hymne homérique. Cette contribution cherche à démontrer que la figure du jeune dieu de l’hymne peut être vue derrière le personnage de Protagoras dans le dialogue platonicien, et suggère un modèle de réception de l’hymne où le dieu peut être perçu comme un sophiste. Dans « Callimaque face aux Hymnes homériques », Benjamin Acosta- Hughes analyse les liens tissés entre les six hymnes de Callimaque et leurs prédécesseurs homériques. La disposition et l’organisation des hymnes de Callimaque en recueil, leur transformation du bagage mythologique, les jeux de la voix narrative,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 445

et l’évocation des échos du culte et de l’occasion de performance sont discutés tour à tour.

4 Les deux derniers chapitres de la première section se penchent sur la place du monarque dans l’hymne. Évelyne Prioux, dans « Représenter les dieux, représenter les rois : hymnes, enkômia et entre-deux », éclaircit les rapports complexes qui unissent la louange des dieux à celle du roi dans la cour de Ptolémée II. Les différents échos d’hymnes que l’on retrouve dans les Idylles de Théocrite sont ainsi mis en relation avec « une réflexion contemporaine sur l’art du portrait et sur la manière de représenter les rois », tirée de plusieurs images et épigrammes de Posidippe. Dans « Augustus and the Lord of Actium : A hymnic epigram of the 1st century », finalement, Jan Maarten Bremer offre une traduction commentée d’un hymne célébrant la victoire d’Auguste à Actium. Après une discussion des données papyrologique et des faits historiques, un commentaire détaillé des phrases et conventions hymniques du texte illumine les jeux du poème avec la tradition.

5 La deuxième section, « Commenter un hymne homérique », résultat d’une table ronde animée par Nicholas Richardson, rassemble les contributions de quatre auteurs de commentaires sur les Hymnes homériques. Dans « The Performance of the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite », Andrew Faulkner défend l’intérêt de localiser la performance originale de l’hymne et montre comment une interprétation du poème qui privilégie la performance originale de l’hymne et l’identification des descendants d’Énée comme ses destinataires premiers peut être réconciliée avec une lecture centrée sur les thématiques fondamentales du texte, notamment son exploration de la frontière entre l’homme et l’immortel. Dans « The Opening of the Homeric Hymn to Apollo », Mike Chappell propose une analyse des huit premiers vers de l’hymne et revient sur le débat qui divise les chercheurs au sujet de la force des temps verbaux dans le passage. Dans « Commentary as a Medium : Some Thoughts on Homeric Hymn to Hermes, 103–141 », Oliver Thomas juxtapose les perspectives différentes que trois écoles de pensée peuvent apporter à la scène sacrificielle de l’hymne à Hermès : le commentaire philologique traditionnel, la lecture structuraliste de type « école de Paris », et l’interprétation historico-étiologique centrée sur le culte. Détaillant les forces et les faiblesses de chaque perspective, Thomas plaide pour une approche pluraliste à l’écriture du commentaire aux grands hymnes, une flexibilité pluridisciplinaire capable de s’adapter aux demandes du texte plutôt que de tout subordonner au récit d’une question centrale. Dans « Commenting on the Homeric Hymn to Hermes: Philology and History », finalement, Athanassios Vergados passe au peigne fin toutes les tentatives de datation de l’hymne, critiquant au passage la validité des interprétations historicistes du texte, et propose comme alternative de privilégier l’étude de la logique interne du texte, notamment l’auto-référentialité du poème.

6 La dernière section du volume, « Hymne, histoire religieuse et théologie », rassemble sept contributions variées. Dans « Les épiclèses dans les Hymnes orphiques : l’exemple de Dionysos », Sylvain Lebreton analyse les rapports qui existent entre les épiclèses des Hymnes orphiques et le matériel épigraphique, pour démontrer que, loin de refléter la réalité des inscriptions micrasiatiques, les hymnes nous donnent à voir « la vie d’un polythéisme ‘interne’ à ces groupes de mystes ». Un utile tableau des épiclèses du corpus complète le chapitre. Dans « From Song to Monument: Sacred Poetry and Religious Revival in Roman Epidaurus », Robert Wagman offre une description détaillée des fragments de deux inscriptions des hymnes d’Épidaure, IG IV2 1, 129–131 et 132–134,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 446

avec une édition du texte. Enchaînant sur ce chapitre, William D. Furley s’attaque à plusieurs questions textuelles et interprétatives de l’hymne épidaurien à la Mère des dieux (IG IV2 1, 131) dans « The Epidaurian Hymn for the Mother of the Gods », notamment de ce que l’on peut comprendre des causes de sa colère, et du sens de τὰ τύμπαν’ ἐλάμβανε (l. 12). La conclusion offre une interprétation générale du contexte de l’hymne. Dans « Maître du ganos, le Zeus de Palaikastro est un Zeus comme les autres », Pierre Brulé rappelle le rôle fondamental de l’Hymne des Kourètes dans l’œuvre de Jane Harrison et les héritiers de « l’école de Cambridge », de même que le succès de l’idée qui voit dans ce texte du IVe–IIIe s. av. J.-C. des vestiges de l’âge du bronze crétois, pour démontrer que rien ne permet de répéter que le Zeus de cet hymne est différent des Zeus contemporains que l’on peut retrouver partout ailleurs dans le monde grec.

7 Les trois derniers chapitres de la troisième section quittent le domaine épigraphique pour retourner aux Hymnes homériques. Dans « Victory and Virility in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo: At Whose Expense ? », Nancy Felson propose une lecture « against the grain » du poème, considérant les actions du dieu du point de vue de ses « victimes » féminines (Telphousa, Délos, Héra), et de la réaction que leurs souffrances pourraient provoquer chez différents groupes d’auditeurs moins impressionnés que d’autres par la virilité d’Apollon. Dans « En matière de timê, j’obtiendrai la même hosiê qu’Apollon : l’Hymne homérique à Hermès comme réajustement du panthéon », Dominique Jaillard étudie le « réajustement des partages » divins mis en scène par les agissements du « petit dieu » dans l’Hymne homérique à Hermès et met en parallèle l’efficacité des logiques énonciatives de l’hymne chanté par Hermès dans le texte avec la performance du poème lui-même. Le but principal du chapitre est de « définir les pouvoirs que la tradition de l’Hymne homérique accorde à la parole hymnique ». Dans « Divine and Human in the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite », finalement, Seth L. Schein s’intéresse au rôle fondamental joué par la sphère humaine dans le poème, et l’utilisation unique faite par celui-ci du contraste mortel-divin dans son récit de l’histoire cosmique. Les nombreux contrastes établis avec la poésie épique archaïqueservent à démontrer à quel point l’ Hymne homérique à Aphrodite se démarque des autres textes de l’époque. Dans un épilogue riche et pénétrant, Jenny Strauss Clay s’attache à démonter les lectures des Hymnes homériques centrées sur la ponctualité du culte pour insister sur leur caractère pluriel et panhellénique, chez soi autant dans la performance du festival que dans la reperformance du symposium. Si les échos du culte y jouent bien sûr un rôle, c’est entièrement subordonné à la spéculation théologique. Un texte qui résonne avec les principales interrogations du volume, contribue à approfondir le dialogue entre les multiples approches qu’il contient, de même qu’à clarifier l’enjeu des contrastes qui les séparent. Si la valeur des différentes contributions est bien sûr inégale, et si l’intégration entre les différents chapitres aurait pu être renforcée, il reste que ce volume offre une collection souvent stimulante de textes originaux, qui seront plus qu’utiles à tous ceux qui s’intéressent aux hymnes grecs.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 447

AUTEURS

RENAUD GAGNÉ Pembroke College, Cambridge

Kernos, 27 | 2014 448

Samuel VERDAN, Eretria XXII. Le sanctuaire d’Apollon Daphnéphoros à l’époque géométrique

Michael Fowler

REFERENCES

Samuel VERDAN, Eretria XXII. Le sanctuaire d’Apollon Daphnéphoros à l’époque géométrique, Gallion, Infolio, 2013. 2 vol. 22 × 30 cm, 286 p. + pl. ISBN : 978–2–88474–411–9.

1 The work under review, the twenty-second installment of the Eretria series, reflects a revised version of the A.’s prizewinning doctoral dissertation, defended at the University of Lausanne in the autumn of 2011. The principal objective of the volume is twofold: first, to offer a synthetic presentation of the Geometric structural and artifactual remains uncovered during the Greek and, subsequently, Swiss campaigns conducted intermittently over the span of roughly one century in and around the sanctuary of Apollo Daphnephoros; and, second, to revisit existing theories on the origin and development of the sanctuary and to advance a new interpretation.

2 Verdan provides, by way of introduction (p. 27–35), a concise historical overview of fieldwork at and research on the sanctuary. Ever since Konstantinos Kourouniotis’ inaugural campaigns (1899–1911), excavations have uncovered abundant material, principally ceramics, as well as architectural remains dating to the Geometric period. The archaeological record from this period, albeit rich, presents certain challenges for the A.’s study: the finds from the Greek excavations are published only in brief reports; this situation is exacerbated by the (irretrievable?) loss of much of Kourouniotis’ unpublished records during his flight from Smyrna in 1922;1 and the documentation of these and the earliest Swiss campaigns left gaps in our knowledge about the structural remains, stratigraphy, and precise find spots of certain material assemblages. While the A. takes full account of the finds from the Greek excavations, the bulk of his evidence derives from the nineteen campaigns carried out under the auspices of the Swiss School

Kernos, 27 | 2014 449

of Archaeology in Athens between 1964 and 2003, including Sandrine Huber’s investigation of the sacrificial zone to the N of the sanctuary.

3 Scholarly understanding of the sanctuary’s nascent era has been shaped particularly by the rival theories of Claude Bérard and Alexandros Mazarakis Ainian. While the former scholar assigned a religious function to the earliest observable buildings on site, the latter argued instead that these were domestic structures and that the sanctuary came to replace what was initially a residential zone.2 The A. believes that the circumstances of the sanctuary’s genesis may be explained in other ways. Like the abovementioned scholars, Verdan must confront the difficulty of making functional distinctions among structures that exhibit similar architectural features (p. 33, 172). But before the A. can proceed to the interpretative stage of his study, he must begin by clarifying the chronological relationship between the various Geometric constructions.

4 Accordingly, in the first chapter (p. 37–63), the A. analyzes the extant structural remains and their relative stratigraphic positions in order to sketch a general outline of the site’s development. This task is complicated by numerous disturbances to the Geometric layers from antiquity to the earliest excavations as well as by the piecemeal nature of the archaeological exploration and documentation of the site. That said, in his own excavations in the SE area of the site (1998–2001), Verdan uncovered undisturbed strata, whose examination enabled him to identify three distinct phases of Geometric-era human activity. These phases provide a chronological scheme, which he attempts to generalize across the entire sanctuary zone. In order to do this, he must harmonize the patchy stratigraphy from earlier excavations with the layers uncovered in his own campaigns. The result of this exercise, Verdan admits (p. 37), is perforce schematic and open to question.

5 Before proceeding to a discussion of the Geometric structures, Verdan gives a résumé of what is known about the site’s earlier history, from the first detectable constructions in the Early Helladic II period to the performance of a primary cremation burial (Tb20) on the NE border of the sanctuary zone during the Subprotogeometric II (p. 39–42). Of the three partially excavated structures that seem to date back to the EHII, two (St250 and St236) rest on a layer of sand, indicating the sanctuary zone’s proximity to the shore. The zone transformed subsequently into an aquatic/marshy environment into which fluvial deposits were carried, forming over time a thick layer of clay on top of the Helladic remains.3 Sustained human habitation in the area would not have been viable until this marshland had been completely filled in (p. 41, 173). The stratigraphic situation of Tb20 indicates that this process had been completed by the SPGII. However, the filing of the marsh was followed by a new hydrological phenomenon that would affect building and organization of space in the sanctuary zone for the entirety of the Geometric period: repeated encroachments of fluvial overflow. This is attested particularly by the channel running along the NE border of the site, whose bed was cut deeply into the clay layer through the erosive action of recurrent flows, and by the numerous strata of sand and gravel in areas not shielded behind then existent walls.4

6 Among the first structures erected during the initial phase (MGII to the beginning of the LGI) were walls whose placement suggests that they were meant to block incursions of floodwater. By the end of this phase, buildings were standing in two adjacent sectors, each protected by walls: the central, containing three apsidal structures (Ed1, Ed9, Ed150), and the central-north, which housed a fourth curvilinear building (Ed5). Ed150 is differentiated from the other buildings by its orientation, opening to the east rather

Kernos, 27 | 2014 450

than the south, thereby placing it roughly on axis with a structure identified as an altar (St12). Although its three construction stages are tough to date on the basis of the available archaeological information, the altar — whatever its original form — should predate the first stage of Ed150. Given the additional anti-flood function that Verdan ascribes to the boundary walls (p. 45), the altar’s situation in a zone prone to fluvial overflow is indeed a “remarkable exception” (p. 49–51; the altar would remain unsheltered in Phase II, p. 60). The second phase (LGI–LGII) sees the leveling of certain structures (e.g. Ed9, Ed1, M107), the reconstruction of others (e.g. Ed150), a modest expansion of the site to the NE (with the building of M162, soon replaced by M19; both walls assumed the orientation and function of demolished M107), and the erection in the newly annexed space of two apsidal buildings (Ed17 and Ed2), the latter of which is monumental and aligned with the altar. Other new constructions include a partition wall (M10), which now divides the central sector into eastern and western parts. In the third and final phase (end of the LGII), the site is cleared of all constructions, apart from Ed2, Ed150, and St12. Although it evidently continued to be used for some time, Ed150 eventually disappears as well. Not long after, Ed2 is destroyed by fire, marking the end of the third phase.

7 The following three chapters consider the ceramic finds from various angles. In the first (Ch. 2; p. 65–94), Verdan discusses the ceramic assemblages that are most useful for determining the chronology of the site’s development as described in the preceding chapter. Individual constructions are difficult to date with greater precision than the stylistic period to which they belong: pieces found in association with them are limited in number (especially in comparison to the ample material recovered from the pits), their stratigraphic positions can be unclear, and, most critically, the chronological sequence of local ceramics is too broadly outlined at present. Because of this, the order of constructions within a given phase of the site cannot be established with certainty. Remaining sensitive to these limitations, the A. arranges the spatial modifications of the sanctuary zone into a plausible series.

8 Chapter Three (p. 95–107) turns to a qualitative account of the ceramics. Verdan here focuses on aspects of the material that could have been significant to ancient users, beyond the strictly functional dimension: importations, figural decoration, and inscriptions made prior to or after firing. Among the imports, the richest share originates from Attica. Three quarters of the Attic wares were recovered in contexts that date to the first phase of the site. They are set apart by their decoration, which offers the earliest examples of equine and human imagery on site. From Phase II on (i.e. the beginning of the LGI period), Attic imports are far less common. The A. sees this change partly as a consequence of the emerging availability of local products that rivaled their Attic counterparts, thereby reducing the appeal of importation. An important class of imports still awaiting detailed examination is the transport amphorae, which promise to shed further light on commercial relations entertained by those who frequented the sanctuary zone.

9 With respect to the figural imagery, Verdan notes that horses and humans are slightly more common in the sanctuary than in any other site in Eretria. It is interesting that the horse appears exclusively on vessels used for the consumption of wine and that, among the cup forms, it figures on kantharoi but not on the more common skyphos (p. 99–100). Representations of humans are far scarcer than horses. Although the scenes are hard to reconstruct on the basis of what survives, the ‘master of horses’

Kernos, 27 | 2014 451

motif, warriors, and perharps a musician, and dancers can be recognized. The A. singles out three unusual scenes for special mention (nos 374, 366, 367): respectively, a female hydrophoros; a fragmentary male figure holding over the head of a smaller male individual what may be a kantharos; and one, possibly two, figure(s) with raised hands flanking a cauldron-like object containing something rendered in vertical lines (liquid, fire?). Additional rarities for Euboea have been discovered, most remarkable among them a ship (no 333), depicted empty and outside a narrative context; this LGII vase was found in the apsidal space of the rebuilt Ed150, near the clay base which supported the monumental MGII/LGI krater. Verdan refrains from analyzing the meaning of these images until the ninth chapter, where they are integrated into the discussion of ritual and space.

10 Inscriptions on vases appear in each Geometric phase, though they are more common in Phases II and III. Small drinking vessels, followed by amphorae, were the most common bearers of inscriptions. The bulk of inscriptions were made after firing. A particularly interesting exception is a fragmentary inscription on a coarse-ware cauldron uncovered in a disturbed context in Building 2 (no 388: ]ι̣ερ[),̣ which may identify the vessel as the property of the sanctuary. Inscriptions securely identifiable as alphabetic were in the minority (slightly less than 25%) and roughly half of these are too fragmentary to be intelligible. Among these inscriptions, one (no 380) is certainly religious in nature: a monochrome cup from an unknown context that reads ]hιερε̣ [. To this may be added two further possibilities: the inscription on the aforementioned cauldron and that on a sherd perhaps from a Phase-I fluvial deposit (no 389: ]θοι̣[ ). If the reading θεῷ is indeed correct, Verdan suggests that the latter sherd likely served as a label accompanying an offering rather than as a dedication in itself. The A. concludes the chapter with an interesting exploration of physical traces related to moments in the use life of select vessels: repair (e.g. no 240), conservation and reuse (e.g. no 335), and destruction. It is noteworthy that whereas miniature hydriai were intentionally broken in the sacrificial area to the N, deliberate destruction of vessels has not been observed within the sanctuary zone itself (with the possible exception of the monumental krater no 335; p. 107 and infra p. 120).

11 In the fourth chapter (p. 109–123), Verdan breaks with more traditional approaches to ceramic material that concentrate on those vessels which are most useful for dating or are distinguished by some special aspect (e.g. frequency, function, quality). Instead, the A. conducts a quantitative analysis, in which the ceramics from the sanctuary zone are treated in the aggregate. Accordingly, the analysis concerns assemblages rather than choice specimens. After discussing matters of method, Verdan reports general statistics on the categories and forms of vessels for the entire site. Here we learn, for example, that fine ware constitutes the overwhelming majority of ceramics and that, within this category, small open vessels are most represented during all phases of the site. Of these vessels, the skyphos is the most common form. Vases not serving alimentary purposes are rare (p. 113). Next, Verdan offers a phase-by-phase discussion of the the ceramics and their general spatial distribution. In the individual phases, the pits (Phases I and II) or the fluvial deposits (Phase III) yielded the majority of the ceramic material. Finds from building contexts were in most cases too meager to be subjected to statistical analysis. These circumstances complicate the A.’s attempt to detect patterns or tendencies in the spatial distribution of ceramics by functional group. As Verdan himself acknowledges (p. 119–121), the original use context of a given vessel prior to its

Kernos, 27 | 2014 452

deposition in the pits cannot be reconstructed with certainty. Sherds discovered in outdoor contexts present a further challenge: do they represent primary or secondary depositions? While the statistics presented in the chapter are suggestive, they may be influenced by a number of factors, which the A. tries to mitigate through the use of a large sample and comparative analysis of multiple assemblages: for example, the ceramic material was gathered in accordance with different collection strategies, vase forms break at varying rates, and, as noted earlier, numerous areas of the site suffered stratigraphic disturbances.

12 Far less numerous are the non-ceramic objects (metal, glass, ‘faience’, bone/ivory, stone, terracotta, and unbaked clay objects), which are briefly reviewed in Chapter Five (p. 125–143). This is another respect in which the sanctuary zone differs from the sacrificial area to the N, where such finds are copious. As in the foregoing qualitative analysis of the ceramics, Verdan defers the discussion of the function (votive or not) and find contexts until the chapters on the origin of the sanctuary and cult activities. Iron objects form the largest and most uniform group, consisting almost entirely of weapons and other cutting implements. The bronzes furnish an additional fragment of weaponry. The paucity of defensive equipment, represented only by a possible bronze rim of a shield (no 405) and the bronze nose guard of a helmet (no 406), is noteworthy. While the two north-Syrian bronze blinders dating to the mid-9th century (nos 391 and 392) are most famous, the small finds include other interesting non-Greek productions, for instance, a nearly intact bronze statuette of a bald man (priest? worshipper?) dressed in a long belted tunic, seated on a four-legged chair, and raising in both hands before him a handleless conical vessel (no 394).

13 Given their functional coherence, the apparatuses and physical byproducts of metalworking are accorded their own chapter (Ch. 6; p. 145–151). The extant evidence suggests that three metals were worked within the sanctuary zone and in its immediate surroundings: bronze and, to a much more limited extent, iron and even gold. The act of bronze casting is best attested. Smelting was most likely not performed within the sanctuary zone itself; yet, concentrations of slag in the largely unexplored area to the W of the sanctuary zone points to the possibility that this and other metallurgical processes were performed in this vicinity (p. 148). Bronze working is also attested outside the SW limit of the sanctuary (M75). Within the sanctuary zone itself, various structures may have been used in connection with metalworking: Ed9 during Phase I and St268 and Ed5 during Phase II; the use of Ed17 (Phase II) for bronze working is well established. No structure can be associated with metalworking in Phase III.

14 Chapter Seven (p. 153–172) is divided into two parts, which address 1) the broader context of the sanctuary zone within eighth-century Eretria and the spatial organization of the zone, and 2) architecture and building materials. Although the archaeology of the Geometric city is presently too spatially discontinuous and thin for determining the sanctuary zone’s exact emplacement, it nevertheless appears that the zone initially occupied neither a central nor a peripheral position (p. 155). As for the various structures within the sanctuary zone, Verdan argues, in view of their topographic situation, that they formed a single, internally coherent site, enclosed within and demarcated by the persistent wall M75 to the SW and the sequence of walls (M107-M162-M19) to the NE (p. 156). While additional walls and perhaps — though less clearly — the rough N-S alignment of the Phase-I pits Fo195, Fo196, Fo197, and Fo221 were used to parcel the zone into distinct sectors, the A. has proposed the existence of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 453

apertures (e.g. in wall M8 and its Phase-II successor M72) that enabled communication between these spaces (p. 157, supra p. 43, 54). Verdan also remarks the dense concentration of hearths in the immediate vicinity of the altar (St12), which structure also served as the focal point for the Buildings Ed150 and Ed2 (p. 158–159). In the architectural part, the A. confines himself largely to the constructional elements for which there is direct archaeological evidence: plans and dimensions, entryways, walls, posts, and interior appointments. The reconstruction of roofing systems is necessarily a matter of conjecture due to an absence of preserved material. In the context of his discussion, a number of interesting features are identified that not only help to individuate the buildings but also to establish possible links between them. For example, we read that the first state of Ed150 may have be outfitted with a second door on its NE side, placing it in additional relation to Ed1 and Ed9, or the central sector more generally (p. 165; cf. pl. 35a);5 this building is further distinguished by three interior furnishings (St201 in Phase I; St210 and St186 in Phase II–III), whose functions are difficult to define (seating? bases? workbenches?). Ed1 is exceptional for the number and regular arrangement of paired posts (one on the interior, the other on the exterior) along the entire length of its socle, which may have assisted the mud brick walls in supporting the roof. Verdan also allows the possibility that the posts may have served primarily to convey the material wealth of the individual(s) who constructed the building (p. 169–170). An analysis of the activities that took place in the various spatial subdivisions and buildings of the sanctuary zone is reserved for the following chapters.

15 Having laid the necessary evidentiary foundations, Verdan moves to the bigger interpretative questions posed at the outset of the study. He opens with an examination of the MGII origins of the sanctuary zone and the function of the first buildings erected on the site during Phase I (Ch. 8; p. 173–198). On the basis of Ed150’s orientation toward the sacrificial space of St12 and the associated ceramic material,animal bones, and interior furnishings, the building is persuasively identified as a banquet hall, where communal sacrificial meals took place (p. 180). In the context of this discussion, I expected Verdan to comment on the second door, which he reconstructs at the NE side of Ed150. What might the reasons have been for this proposed entry, which would have granted direct access to and visual contact with the central sector and especially Ed1? This interesting architectural feature deserves further consideration, especially since it seems to disappear in the building’s complete reconstruction in Phase II, which roughly coincides with the demolition of Ed1 and Ed9. While the connection between Ed150 and St12 persists over time, might the disappearance of the second door hint at a change in some aspect of the building’s use from Phase I to II?

16 On the basis of the finds, Ed1 is considered another space where banquets transpired, though it is uncertain whether it was public or private (p. 182; p. 186; its comparatively richer architecture would fit both cases). The A. is inclined toward a communal, religious designation for Ed1, placing it in closer relationship with Ed150 than its neighbor Ed9. The only evidence that Verdan marshals in favor of this is the alignment of pits Fo195, Fo196, Fo197, and Fo221, which, he argues, constituted a line that divided the central zone into two functionally distinct sectors: residential/artisanal (west) and religious (east). He sees the course of the Phase-II wall M10, which was built over these pits, as support for this interpretation (p. 182 and supra 49). That the pits demarcated two different areas is, in my view, unlikely.6 The secondary door of Ed150 might instead have been used to argue a close connection with Ed1, without, however, suggesting the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 454

strict spatial separation of residential and religious. Verdan notes that preparation and consumption of meals also took place outdoors, particularly in proximity to the altar (p. 184–185). Given that sacrificial rituals and communal meals were already occurring during Phase I, the simultaneous absence in the entire sanctuary zone of objects securely identifiable as votives is striking, even if we admit the existence of offerings of perishable materials (p. 181). As for the identity of those who organized and carried out these rituals, Verdan rightly points to members of the elite (p. 185–187), who may have formed a distinct genos (p. 197).

17 While Ed1 is not regarded as a temple (contrary to Bérard’s early theory), neither is it clearly identifiable as an elite residence, as Mazarakis Ainian would have it (p. 190). While Ed1 could very well have been a communal space, I am uncomfortable with the suggestion that this building, in addition to Ed150, belonged to a distinct religious area whose boundary was defined by a series of pits. Assuming that no other form of boundary marker existed (such as a wooden fence: p. 49, 157), it seems rather that these buildings occupied the same sector as the residence Ed9. Verdan ultimately sides more with Bérard’s general theory in advocating the existence of a distinct sanctuary space from the earliest phase of the zone’s settlement where the broader community could gather, without excluding the involvement of the neighboring elites, who could have possessed special offices and perquisites in connection with the cult. In this scenario, Ed150 would have served to house certain elite participants and would thus have communicated their elevated status within the community (p. 197). If, however, the religious structures belonged to the same sector as the residential one, then the circumstances of the sanctuary’s formation could tend toward Mazarakis Ainian’s model.

18 In Chapter 9 (p. 199–229), Verdan shifts to a discussion of the zone during Phase II (Late Geometric I–II period), when the sacred space acquires more definition — with the disappearance of Ed1 and Ed9, the construction of internal partitions (like M10) — and surface area — with the modest annexation of land to the NE and the eventual erection of monumental Ed2 (interpreted as a hekatompedon ) on axis with the altar. Elite residences (Ed5 and Ed17) still exist in close connection to the sanctuary area and fulfilled a variety of functions: housing, banqueting, metalworking (p. 204–207). The rebuilt Ed150 seems to retain its primary function as a banquet hall. Ed2 is identified as a temple (p. 200–204). Based on its interior layout and associated artifactual finds, Verdan argues that Ed2 was multifunctional (p. 201). Given, for instance, the recent discovery of what may be the carbonized remains of a wooden cult statue before the W apse of the Geometric South Temple 5 at Kalapodi,it is possible that a cult image was housed near or in apse of Ed2; there is, however, no archaeological information available for this part of the building (p. 202–203). The functions for which we have direct material evidence rather concern the space’s use for the storage of an exceptional concentration of non-ceramic objects (votive objects) and perhaps banqueting (more uniform and modest drinking vessels and animal bones, the latter of which were unfortunately not kept by the excavators). That these non-ceramic objects were offerings is further supported either by their unparalleled nature (e.g. the abovementioned bronze blinders or the statuette of the seated bald man) or by the presence of similar objects near the altar, in the NE sector, and at the sacrificial area to the N (e.g. terracotta figurines of animals [n os 483–484 and 486] and faience [nos 447– 448]) (p. 201). The performance of animal sacrifices, commensal and sympotic gatherings in various areas of the sanctuary zone (perhaps divided by social group),

Kernos, 27 | 2014 455

and — from Phase II at least — the dedication of non-perishable objects (p. 207–210; 212–219) is well founded in the archaeological evidence. The reconstruction of other rituals (e.g. dancing, processions) is a hypothetical matter. While Verdan’s treatment of certain vase paintings as allusions to ritual reality (e.g. the fragmentary handle of a kantharos [n o 366] as a representation of a young man’s ritual admission into a banqueting context by an older man [p. 221–222]) is debatable, his reconstruction of a “parcours rituel” involving the miniature hydriai that linked the sanctuary to the N sacrificial area is compelling (p. 211–212; 225–228).

19 In the final chapter (Conclusion, p. 231–240), Verdan broaches a crucial question that can only be answered hypothetically on the basis of the available evidence: to which divinity did the Geometric sanctuary belong? Even though Apollo Daphnephoros isn’t attested until the mid-fourth century in epigraphic sources, the A. argues that the sanctuary belonged to this god from the beginning, adducing in particular the series of three superposed temples (Ed2–Ed3–Ed4) as evidence of continuity (p. 233). Drawing on images of women holding sprigs on vessels from the sacrificial zone to the N and on the proposed ritual connection between this zone and the sanctuary, he posits that the Daphnephoria were already being performed in the Geometric period (p. 235–236).

20 Four specialized scientific contributions follow the main text, each receiving its own appendix. In the first contribution (App. 1; p. 243–254), Sandrine Huber and Patrice Méniel publish the first results of an analysis of the osseous remains of land animals coming from various Geometric-era find contexts within the sanctuary zone. The statistics are impaired by the fact that bones were not exhaustively collected in excavations until the 1990s, leading, for instance, to a paucity of osteological data about all buildings apart from Ed150 (p. 244, with n. 11). Almost all the identifiable bones belong to domesticated animals (sheep, goat, cow, pig, horse, donkey, dog) and no clear criteria of selection could be detected with respect to sex or age (p. 245–246). The A.’s analysis establishes that caprines were sacrificed and that their thighbones and tails were burned on the altar (p. 252). The second appendix also contains an archaeozoological analysis — this time of marine fauna from the sanctuary zone (p. 255–266). In it, Tatiana Theodoropoulou highlights the predominance of the fan mussel (Pinna nobilis), especially during Phase I,when the presence of marine fauna is most pronounced. The principal use of the fan mussel was, like the rest of the marine species from the site, alimentary, though the A. wonders whether it might also have been valued for its byssus (sea silk) (p. 263–264).The final two contributions are written in English. Evi Margaritis analyzes the botanical remains from pit Fo221 (App. 3; p. 267– 269), most of which are carbonized. Olive pits were the most represented, followed by grape seeds, and grains. The material is considered the discarded remains from cooking/meals in Ed1 or Ed9; the olive pits could also have served as a fuel source. In the fourth and final appendix (p. 271–273), Nigel D. Meeks and Paul T. Craddock conduct a microanalysis of the gold globules contained in the vitrified surfaces of two pottery sherds (nos 527 and 529). They conclude that these sherds were each reused several times to melt small amounts of gold prior to assay (p. 272). The volume is completed by summaries of the main text in English, German, and Greek (p. 275–279) and an index (p. 281–286).

21 The second volume contains: catalogues of ceramic (organized by phase and find spot; p. 7–21) and other artifactual finds (p. 23–29); a series of tables giving a synthetic list of the graffiti (p. 31–32), statistical information on the ceramics (p. 33–41), and an

Kernos, 27 | 2014 456

inventory of all the structures found on site (p. 43–49); and plates. The plates comprise plans of Eretria and the sanctuary zone (p. 52–61) and of the spatial distribution of certain materials (pl. 62–67); excavation photographs, stratigraphic drawings and plans, and architectural reconstructions (p. 68–110); drawings and/or photographs of the ceramic (p. 111–154) and non-ceramic finds (p. 155–167); in addition to the statistical graphics, plans, and images pertaining to the contributors’ studies (p. 168– 182). The back flap of the second volume also includes a folded sheet with a detailed plan (scale 1: 100) of the sanctuary site, showing all excavated structural remains and the limits of the trenches.

22 The editorial quality of the text is excellent. The same can be said of the second volume containing the catalogue, tables, and plates. Overall, the A. succeeds in providing a thorough, reasoned account of the archaeological and documentary evidence, in spite of its great volume, numerous lacunae, and varying quality. His work will doubtless stimulate further scholarship on the early period of the sanctuary and its context within Eretria and the ancient Greek world more generally. Indeed, Verdan signals, at numerous points in his study, potential topics for future research: for instance, the religious aspect of metalworking (p. 239), the repair and retention of certain objects and the notion of antiques (p. 105–106; 126–127 [blinders]), and the impetus behind the possible contemporaneous construction (end of the 8th to the middle of the 7th cent. BCE) of ‘hundred-foot’ religious structures at geographically disparate sites: Eretria, the Samian Heraion, and Ano Mazaraki (p. 162).

NOTES

1. It is unclear what of the archaeologist’s excavation documents have been destroyed. While in the main text (p. 29) Verdan speaks of them as lost, in an associated footnote (n. 12) he states, “il semblerait que des documents ayant appartenu à K. Kourouniotis existent encore.” 2. A summary of these scholars’ positions appears on p. 187–189. 3. For more detail on the paleogeography of the sanctuary zone, including a chronology of morphological transformations, see now M. GHILARDI et al., “Mid- to Late Holocene shoreline reconstruction and human occupation in Ancient Eretria (South Central Euboea, Greece),” Geomorphology 208 (2014), p. 225–237. 4. Tb20, located in the immediate vicinity of the channel, was gradually concealed underneath layers of alluvial material; the precise relationship, if any, between the tomb and the first structures of Phase I cannot be determined, though Verdan prefers to see continuity between the SPGII and MGII (see Ch. 8, p. 176–178). 5. A mix-up in the numbering of the socles in the plans for Phases I and II–III of Ed150 (pl. 35a–b) may cause a bit of confusion for readers; the positions of M154 and M155 should be reversed. 6. S. Gimatzidis already voiced this criticism in his review of Verdan’s work in the Bryn Mawr Classical Review (2013.11.59), http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2013/2013–11–59.html . One may ask why a more durable boundary (M10) was set up only after Ed9, and possibly also Ed1 (cf. n. 1036), had already been demolished.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 457

AUTHORS

MICHAEL FOWLER Columbia University

Kernos, 27 | 2014 458

Gunnel EKROTH, Jenny WALLENSTEN (ed.), Bones Behavious and Belief

Jan-Mathieu Carbon

REFERENCES

Gunnel EKROTH & Jenny WALLENSTEN, Bones, Behaviour and Belief. The Zooarchaeological Evidence as a Source for Ritual Practice in Ancient Greece and beyond, Stockholm, Svenska Institutet I Athen, 2013. 1 vol. 22 × 27,5 cm, 275 p. (Acta Instituti Atheniensis Regni Sueciae, series in 4o, 55). ISBN : 978–91–7916–062–3.

1 This alliteratively titled assemblage is both attractive and absorbing. Far from the ossified remains one might dread from old texts, dry excavations, or sterile laboratories, the conference proceedings bring to light a variety of fresh data and new perspectives. We learn about such poorly understood but everyday life events as the extraction of marrow, bones as the chew-toys of dogs and rodents, not to mention the virtually ubiquitous presence of shells and little bits of fish. No one studying Greek sacrifice can now neglect the study of biological remains and all that it entails.

2 Zooarchaeology is a palpably emerging and dynamic field, and yet the bones are not cut and dried. Beyond being extremely informative, nearly all of the papers engage in important methodological, terminological and interpretative issues. For instance, several of the papers rightly stress that ritual deposits can occur in both a sacred and a domestic context, as can food preparation and waste deposits: the line between the sacred and the secular is often blurred or difficult to distinguish. Furthermore, there can sometimes be a disconnect between the textual sources and the practices of deposition which are physically in evidence. A solution, advocated throughout, is the methodical case-by-case study and contextual interpretation of the zooarchaeological finds.

3 The focus of the volume is not disproportionately on the Greek world, which might be taken as both a compliment and a failing.1 As the subtitle announces, there is a wealth

Kernos, 27 | 2014 459

of material from different cultures, from which any reader will benefit a great deal. It helps to think outside of the box, but it also takes us rather far afield from the Mediterranean and its sanctuaries. More critically, however, the research presented seldom reaches a level of stimulating cross-fertilisation or illuminating comparison. In fact, the lack of sustained effort to foster interdisciplinary research may be the volume’s single but crucial flaw.

4 Given the roots of the conference, there is an understandable predilection for Scandinavian and particularly Swedish archaeology. In the brief report of S. Sten, we learn about medieval burials well-appointed with a variety of sacrificial animals. M. Vretemark studies bone deposits in bogs or wells compared to those found in settlements. As mentioned, these papers have the added value of discussing terminology and methods of analysis. O. Magnell gives a nice précis of what a taphonomic investigation should consist in (p. 116–118), and concludes that this study of depositions “serves to reconstruct the chronology of the ritual” (to some degree, at least).

5 Methodological points are also manifest in the survey concerning Iron Age France by A. Gardeisen. The author well illustrates a large variety of practices ranging from “fagot” or bundle-style depositions, inhumations, and wholesale depositions, to burial (“viatique”) sacrifices. But the paper also tackles Greek sacrifice in a vague and unhelpful section (p. 46–48, without references in the footnotes). Perhaps the most coherent of these non-Greek papers is the investigation of P. Popkin, focussed on a single sacrifice (a 20 to 24 month-old male sheep) at Kilise Tepe. Building on the work of A. Mouton on Hittite rituals, it admirably advances the process of juxtaposing archaeological material with written sources (texts detailing foundation or purificatory rituals, etc), thus revealing the potential for elucidating both at the same time.

6 In an impressively wide-ranging and learned study which brings us to the Greek world, K. Trantalidou looks at a great number of sites and zooarchaeological finds, principally from the Aegean area during the Iron Age. As we would expect, sheep and goats form a sizeable majority of the data, across all zones and periods. Here too there are helpful scientific distinctions brought to the fore, for example the contrast between burial as form of sacrifice in and of itself, and deposition as a method of disposing of the remains of a completed sacrifice. But the paper oscillates between careful (p. 80) and bold interpretations, sometimes hurtling itself against the stumbling blocks of ‘behaviour’ and ‘belief’. Eyebrows are raised when reading, in the case of Akrotiri, that (p. 71): “Le choix des animaux mâles reflète les idées sous-jacentes de la zoo-mythologie universelles; bélier, bouc, taureau comme symboles de fécondité, de prospérité, emblèmes de pouvoir [etc]”. While there is often only a short jump between bones and behaviour, there is a precipitous leap from there to ‘belief’. Most of the contributions are commendably cautious on the first interpretative step. They are more shaky on the second, though understandably so.

7 Several specifically local or regional case-studies are included, together constituting a strength of the volume and at the same time leading us to somewhat firmer ground. V. Isaakidou and P. Halstead not only present burnt deposits of bones from Mycenaean Pylos, but also offer a good introduction to zooarchaeological method and its utility in the study of ritual behaviour. For instance, it will be compelling (though perhaps not surprising) for those who study later periods to read that it was likely an elite group (20 people or so) which regularly performed a sacrifice of cattle, from which followed a

Kernos, 27 | 2014 460

widespread distribution of meat, “so that palatial banqueting performed and reaffirmed the social structure and social relationships of the Pylian polity” (p. 93).

8 D. Mylona gives a synopsis of the incredibly wide variety of remains from a cistern in the sanctuary of Poseidon at Kalaureia, which contains some 13 000 elements, especially snakes and seashells, but many other bones and fish as well. In the hope of interpreting the behaviour at play, we are given short and helpful paragraphs with further bibliography on the unusual types of animals represented in the finds, but the result is an impossibly vague set of “common trends and associations” (p. 160–161), whose “broad frame of reference” (save perhaps the sacrifice of equids and fish to Poseidon, p. 157) remains elusive. T. Theodoropoulou studies the edible shells, chiefly cockles, found in the adyton of the Archaic to Hellenistic temple on the Middle Plateau in Kythnos. The paper examines fish sacrifices more generally and contains much useful material, but once again several generalising considerations on Greek sacrifice (p. 205–206), as well as speculation on the possible identity of the recipient (p. 208–211). The broad surveys proposed by Mylona and Theodoropoulou have the appearance of exhaustivity, but actually obfuscate the matters at hand. Both papers suitably conclude on the absence of definite conclusions and the need for further work. The editors, here and in a few other papers, should have sharpened their scissors or taken out their red pens.

9 H. Brun and M. Leguilloux provide a detailed analysis of the sacrifices which took place in the Sarapieion C on Delos. The vast majority consisted of poultry, which was consecrated as a holocaust, though the animals were probably decapitated before being deposited on the altar fire. There are also small portions of sheep and pigs, especially burned fragments of legs and heads. While the authors plausibly suggest practical reasons for this evidence — altars insufficient in size to burn larger animals completely — and economical ones too, it might also be thought that some larger sacrifices simply took place in a mode like a Greek thysia. Written sources attest to sacrifices of both birds (LSAM 36, lines 9–11, joint cult of Sarapis and Isis at Priene) and other animals, probably livestock, whose legs were extracted for priests of Sarapis as was customary (LSAM 34, lines 10–12, Magnesia-on-the-Meander).

10 D. Ruscillo provides an account of the finds in the Archaic to late Hellenistic sanctuary of Demeter at Mytilene. Any assessment of rituals for Demeter and Persephone should now take into account this set (and other similar bodies) of zooarchaeological material, though of course much still remains uncertain. There is a particularly good engagement with the substantial sources available for the festival of the Thesmophoria. Calcined bones of piglets have been found in a circular sacrificial pit (i.e. one of the megara), where there is also evidence for the burning of barley and grape seeds, along with other varied remains (again shells, fish, etc). The author notably proposes an intriguing hypothesis about the putrefaction of the piglets during the rites: it may have been rapidly caused through partial digestion by snakes found (infrequently) in the pits.

11 Whereas several contributions are primarily concerned with taxonomy, with M. MacKinnon’s study we zoom in on specific osteological details arising from clusters of finds in different contexts at the sanctuary of Zeus in Nemea. There are, for instance, very interesting notes on calcination and what it can tell us about the intensity of fires. Perhaps an even more scientific approach might be possible in the future, helping to further reconstruct this temporal dimension of rituals. The crucial finding is that the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 461

left thighbones of sheep were usually offered to the hero Opheltes/Archemoros at Nemea, but not the right and not the osphys that was offered to Zeus on his altar. MacKinnon has admirably drawn attention to this significant left or right aspect of bone remains and it will be now be an essential question to raise in future studies. But one may justifiably be skeptical of whether this sagittal distinction reflects an Olympian/Chthonian dichotomy, as the author tentatively claims (p. 140–141). MacKinnon is surely right to criticise Lupu (p. 141 with n. 33) who phrases a traditional but overly simplistic separation between divine (left leg) and priestly (right) portions. The point should be that greater nuance is needed. We need not be strictly dualistic about portions: since filleting occurred in some cases and the take-away from a thigh would then be a boneless “gigot mou” (Ekroth citing J.-L. Durand, p. 21 with fig. 8), and since the thighbone could be offered separately (wrapped in the omentum vel sim.) on the altar, both the god and the priest might share a single right or left leg, as the given case might be.

12 There are a few papers which attempt to build bridges across the specific areas of investigation. G. Forstenpointner, A. Galik, and G.E. Weissengruber’s note on experimental archaeology — i.e. recreating sacrificial practices and practical scenarios for the purposes of comparison — is a good but concise case. It points both to the attraction of this method and to its failings, namely circular reasoning. Yet what is striking is that the limits of enquiry are inherently visual. On Greek vases, the tail or curving osphys is immediately recognisable from its unique characteristics (p. 234–236), but undistinguishable bundles —wrapped thighbones? gallbladders? — are by nature a subject for conjecture (p. 237–238).

13 Akin to this danger of “foregone conclusions” is the wider problem which animates most papers in the volume: the difficulty of successfully interpreting the sacred or secular context of assemblages. In an enlightening complement to the issue, two papers by G. Ekroth and by S. Scullion respectively offer valuable perspectives on the question of eating “unsacrificed meat”, for example deer and dogs (p. 22–25 and 246–253).2 Taken together, they convincingly argue, in Scullion’s words, that “the Greeks sacralized selectively rather than universally” (p. 253). Ekroth and Scullion each advance a (too) small series of case-studies where zooarchaeological evidence can be confronted with other sources for Greek sacrifice. Reflecting a theme of the volume, the wider conclusion of Ekroth’s paper is that, as far as sacrifice is concerned, “different kinds of evidence speak of different kinds of realities” (p. 26). This is certainly valid to the extent that one needs to be cognisant of the diversity both of the facts and of investigative starting-points. But it would be preferable to reframe the notion in more positive and less relativistic or hyperskeptical terms: as students of Greek religion in a wide sense, it is the varied, but perceptible middle ground of realia which interests us first and foremost.

14 There is a struggle for such unity and coherence in these proceedings, but it is also inherent to the topic at hand. Though the volume brings us closer, we still struggle to grasp how all of the disiecta membra of sacrifices fit together. To take one specific example, several papers comment on the underrepresentation of footbones in assemblages (e.g. Isaakidou and Halstead p. 92; MacKinnon p. 139). The hypothesis proffered is that feet were often left attached to the hide flayed from the animal. That is probable in some cases, but what about the frequent mentions of feet as specific prerogatives in the textual evidence for Greek sacrifice, or the gigot mou depicted with

Kernos, 27 | 2014 462

the foot attached (cf. above)? As elsewhere in the volume, an effort to confront the osteological findings more closely and carefully with iconographic and textual material might have proven beneficial. In reality, then, constituting a sacrificial “wishlist” would be a much more comprehensive and systematic enterprise.

15 That being said, it is hard to not to commend and recommend such a book. It is finely produced, abundantly and richly illustrated, and with useful indices. There are lists of sources for each of the individual chapters, but the material is so rich that one would have hoped for a consolidated bibliography. Most importantly, all of the papers exhibit a buoyant commitment to science: a desire for greater precision and caution, and for the gradual accretion of data. The coda by S. Georgoudi, V. Mehl and F. Prost aptly affirms these strengths, and, with good reason, concludes that zooarchaeology substantially modifies many of the “idées reçues” about Greek sacrifice. It is now gradually becoming accepted that even a ‘standard’ procedure like a thysia could be modified depending on the circumstances. Though there were forms of unity in all of this diversity, there was perhaps no such thing as a ‘canonical model’ of Greek sacrifice (p. 259–260: indeed, we are encouraged to speak of “des sacrifices grecs” rather than “le sacrifice grec”). This conclusion also underlines the holistic approach necessary for further study. The introduction by the editors (p. 12–13) similarly pleads for continued scholarly collaboration and makes a few innovative proposals: a database of zooarchaeological deposits; additional interdisciplinary conferences. One can only wish the editors success on these praiseworthy endeavours, for which this volume is an excellent first step.

NOTES

1. In this review LSAM = F. SOKOLOWSKI, Lois sacrées d’Asie Mineure, Paris 1955. Cp. esp. the more geographically focussed volume by E. KOTJABOPOULOU et al. (eds.), Zooarchaeology in Greece, Recent Advances, Nottingham 2003. 2. Following the earlier work of R.C.T. PARKER, “Eating Unsacrificed Meat”, p. 137–145 in: C. CARLIER and C. LEROUGE-COHEN (eds.), Paysage et religion en Grèce antique, Paris 2010. See also now F.S. NAIDEN, Smokes Signals for the Gods, Oxford 2013, Chapter 6 – “Markets and Messes”.

AUTHORS

JAN-MATHIEU CARBON Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 463

Roberta RIZZO, Culti e miti della Sicilia antica e protocristiana

Nicola Cucuzza

NOTIZIA

Roberta RIZZO, Culti e miti della Sicilia antica e protocristiana, Roma, Salvatore Sciascia Editore, 2012. 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, 400 p. ISBN : 978–88–8241–387–3.

1 Cento anni dopo il volume di E. Ciaceri, Culti e miti nella storia dell’antica Sicilia (Catania, 1911), l’opera di Roberta Rizzo si presenta come un utile strumento di studio per chi voglia conoscere il versante siciliano della mitologia antica. Più di trecento lemmi, disposti in ordine alfabetico e divisi in capitoli per ciascuna lettera dell’alfabeto, trattano di divinità ed eroi che in qualche modo — più o meno direttamente — sono connessi alla mitologia ed ai culti documentati nella grande isola mediterranea (p. 13– 242): oltre alle più generali notizie relative a genealogie e miti, sono infatti ricordati i dati letterari, ma anche epigrafici, numismatici ed archeologici specificamente legati alla Sicilia. Ogni singolo lemma è corredato da note che rimandano alla fonte (antica o moderna) da cui sono desunte le informazioni: queste rinviano alla corposa bibliografia (p. 257–324) ed all’ampio elenco di fonti antiche utilizzate (p. 327–348). Chiude il volume una serie di indici: delle voci, dei nomi di personaggi reali e mitici menzionati nelle singole voci, dei luoghi (antichi e moderni) ed infine delle cose notevoli.

2 Come si desume dalle pagine introduttive — che seguono la Prefazione di Antonino Buttitta (p. 5–8) —, l’obiettivo dello studio è quello di fornire “una mappa della cultura religiosa della Sicilia antica fino all’affermarsi del cristianesimo” (p. 9). In verità, contrariamente a quanto lascerebbe intendere il titolo del volume, la trattazione riservata al cristianesimo si limita ad osservazioni relative alla continuità di prassi cultuali riscontrabili in alcuni casi fra le religioni pagane e quella cristiana. Inoltre, malgrado l’inserimento in una collana di studi archeologici, il taglio stesso dell’opera e la specifica sensibilità dell’A. portano a privilegiare nettamente l’utilizzo di fonti letterarie piuttosto che archeologiche. Il carattere essenzialmente divulgativo

Kernos, 27 | 2014 464

dell’opera giustifica qualche semplificazione (come quella del passaggio dalle pratiche cultuali pagane a quelle cristiane), alcune sviste ed omissioni bibliografiche (quasi inevitabili in un lavoro di così ampia portata, condotto da un’unica studiosa). Meno chiaro risulta l’inserimento di alcune annotazioni, come quella, ad esempio, della testa di Gorgone nella moderna bandiera della Regione siciliana (p. 134, 140, 226, 230). Anche se l’uso delle note a piè di pagina piuttosto che alla fine di ogni capitolo sarebbe stata preferibile da parte del lettore, l’articolazione in lemmi in ordine alfabetico facilita la consultazione, mentre l’indice dei nomi permette di rintracciare agevolmente le notizie riguardanti le figure che non sono state oggetto di una specifica trattazione.

3 Il volume, come detto, costituisce in ogni caso un prezioso punto di riferimento per chi voglia conoscere i miti della Sicilia antica: oltre che per il più vasto pubblico di appassionati, la ricchezza della documentazione analizzata lo renderà senza dubbio un utile strumento di lavoro anche per gli specialisti.

AUTORI

NICOLA CUCUZZA Università degli studi di Genova

Kernos, 27 | 2014 465

Caitlín E. BARRETT, Egyptianizing Figurines from Delos

Richard Veymiers

RÉFÉRENCE

Caitlín E. BARRETT, Egyptianizing Figurines from Delos. A Study in Hellenistic Religion, Leiden/ Boston, Brill, 2011. 1 vol. 16,5 × 24,5 cm, 731 p. + pl. (Columbia Studies in the Classical Tradition, vol. 36). ISBN : 978–90–04–20797–4.

1 Issue d’une thèse de doctorat soutenue en 2009 à l’Université de Yale, l’importante monographie que nous offre C.E. Barrett révèle tout l’intérêt de la culture matérielle, et en particulier de l’univers coroplathique, pour affiner notre connaissance de la lived religion à l’époque hellénistique, au-delà du concept monolithique de religion « domestique », de la dichotomie artificielle entre sphères « populaire » et « officielle ». Exceptionnel conservatoire archéologique, l’île de Délos a livré de très nombreux vases plastiques et figurines en terre cuite, dont près de 1500 exemplaires ont été jusqu’à présent publiés par A. Laumonier, A. Bovon et P. Hatzidakis1. Ce sont 82 monuments — soit environ 5 % du corpus — identifiés par l’A. comme égyptiens ou surtout égyptisants qui constituent le cœur matériel de cette enquête interdisciplinaire. Épousant une séduisante perspective anthropologique, l’A. cherche à réintégrer ces artefacts dans leur réseau de relations sociales — ce qu’on appelle par ailleurs l’agency — pour mieux comprendre les messages qu’ils véhiculent et les pratiques qu’ils recouvrent dans leurs contextes respectifs.

2 Cette étude qui vise à une meilleure compréhension de la société délienne et de son paysage religieux est précédée d’une introduction programmatique, faisant office de chapitre 1 (Egyptianizing Cult at a Crossroads of Hellenistic Trade), où il aurait été bienvenu de définir clairement ce qu’on entendait par « egyptianizing »2, puisque l’étiquette s’applique également ici aux sanctuaires isiaques et aux cultes qu’ils abritent. Si l’influence des Ptolémées se manifeste à Délos dès le protectorat accordé en 287 à la Ligue des Nésiotes, qui y instaure leur culte royal, les divinités « égyptisantes » font

Kernos, 27 | 2014 466

parallèlement — et indépendamment — leur apparition sur l’île à l’initiative d’un prêtre memphite, selon la célèbre « chronique »3 du plus ancien des trois Sarapieia4. Parmi la multiplicité des traditions religieuses égyptiennes, rappelée à juste titre par l’A., ce sont celles d’Alexandrie et de Basse-Égypte qui semblent émerger de ces terres cuites datant pour la plupart de la fin du IIe ou du début du Ier s. av. J.-C. Sans doute aurait-il été utile, pour les lecteurs non familiers avec les travaux de P. Roussel ou M.-Fr. Baslez entre autres5, d’inclure dans cette introduction un développement historique sur les cultes isiaques à Délos et leurs autres manifestations matérielles, afin d’éprouver davantage la pertinence de ces concepts d’« hybridité » et de « syncrétisme » si souvent sollicités au cours de l’ouvrage.

3 Les terres cuites égyptiennes et égyptisantes de Délos se prêtent à divers niveaux d’analyse, définissant autant de chapitres, une perspective totale conforme à l’approche anthropologique générale. L’A. examine avec grande minutie la composition des matériaux, les techniques de fabrication, le contenu iconographique et le contexte archéologique des monuments, passant ainsi du point de vue des producteurs à celui des consommateurs. Complément indispensable à l’analyse, un catalogue (Annexe B) regroupe toutes les données disponibles pour les artefacts6, en les classant selon l’ordre du numéro d’inventaire des musées archéologiques de Délos et de Mykonos. La plupart des monuments font l’objet de deux supports visuels réalisés par l’A. : un dessin agrémentant la fiche d’enregistrement et une photographie intégrée, avec une numérotation propre (D), dans des planches en couleur ou noir et blanc organisées thématiquement à la fin du volume — et qui auraient pu être aussi numérotées pour plus de commodité.

4 Afin de définir le cadre de production, c’est-à-dire l’origine géographique des terres cuites, et la tradition technologique dans laquelle s’inscrivaient leurs artisans, l’A. s’est attachée de manière très pertinente à comparer leurs caractéristiques matérielles et techniques à celles des figurines déliennes montrant des thèmes helléniques, mais aussi à celles d’autres répertoires coroplathiques soigneusement choisis. Ce sont les terres cuites du Musée du Caire, dont Fr. Dunand7 avait étudié un échantillonnage, et celles du Musée de l’Agora d’Athènes, jadis publiées par D.B. Thompson8, soit deux corpus authentiquement égyptien et grec, qui lui offrent les comparanda nécessaires. La démarche est à nouveau directe, puisque l’A. les a examinées de visu, parfois de tactu, nous fournissant les photographies noir et blanc de 75 et 96 exemplaires numérotés (C et A) dans le recueil de planches. Non autorisée à procéder à une analyse pétrographique ou chimique des terres cuites, elle fait dans le chapitre 2 (Fabric Analysis: Evidence for the Local Origins of the Majority of Egyptianizing Figurines on Delos) une description macroscopique des pâtes utilisées, tenant compte d’une série de critères, ce qui lui permet de distinguer plusieurs groupes dans chaque répertoire (tableaux 1–10). Cette comparaison visuelle lui permet de conclure à la production locale de la majorité des terres cuites déliennes, quelle que soit leur iconographie. On trouve diverses importations, dont trois égyptiennes, mais la plupart — soit au moins 65 réalisations égyptisantes — utilisent une pâte fine et rougeâtre intégrant une argile cycladique. Le chapitre 3 (Manufacturing Techniques, Technological Style, and the Question of Egyptian Coroplasts on Delos) examine à travers chaque corpus le « style technologique » des terres cuites, que détermine l’ensemble des choix faits consciemment ou non par les artisans au cours des grandes étapes marquant le processus de fabrication (tableaux 11–15). Destiné à un marché local, l’artisanat coroplathique délien se rattache pour l’essentiel aux traditions technologiques grecques, mettant l’accent sur la qualité

Kernos, 27 | 2014 467

esthétique des œuvres, alors que les terres cuites égyptiennes, produites plus rapidement à certaines occasions, festives notamment, sont moins soignées, accordant davantage d’importance à leur valeur religieuse.

5 Les terres cuites égyptiennes et égyptisantes de Délos présentent divers types iconographiques que l’A. analyse longuement au sein du chapitre 4 (The Eye of the Sun and the Inundation of the Nile: Iconographic Evidence for Egyptian Theology on Delos) en les rapportant au système théologique égyptien à grand renfort de parallèles textuels et figuratifs d’époques pharaonique et gréco-romaine. Toutes ces images « religieuses » se réfèreraient, selon elle, à une thématique commune : l’arrière-plan mythique des festivités célébrant l’Inondation du Nil et la Nouvelle Année. L’arrivée de la crue était mise en relation par les Égyptiens avec le retour depuis la Nubie de la déesse lointaine incarnant l’œil solaire, à laquelle ils identifiaient Hathor, puis Isis, célébrée à Dendara en tant que « maîtresse du début de l’année ». Au moins quarante-trois terres cuites sont ainsi considérées comme diverses manifestations de l’œil du Soleil : Isis ou reine lagide en Isis ; les soi-disant « Aphrodite orientale » ; les chiens sothiaques ; Arsinoé II et sa double corne d’abondance. Six autres figurines présentent un caractère sexuel, sinon érotique, qui ferait allusion au hieros gamos de la déesse lointaine au moment de l’inondation : Harpocrate ithyphallique ; les soi-disant « Baubo » ; le couple Agathos Daimon(-Shaï) et Agathè Tychè(-Renenoutet). Le fruit de cette union sacrée est un enfant solaire, assimilé au roi régnant, auquel se réfèreraient quatorze terres cuites montrant divers types d’Harpocrate, dont l’un assis dans un lotus. Une douzaine de figurines ou vases plastiques représentent des Nubiens au faciès caractéristique, certains dansant ou chantant, qui seraient autant de membres de l’entourage de la déesse lointaine. Diverses formes de Bès et de Ptah-Patèque figureraient sur quelques terres cuites en raison des liens qui unissaient ces dieux-nains à la naissance de l’enfant solaire. La prédominance des couronnes florales, les multiples allusions au vin et à l’eau dans ce corpus coroplathique semblent confirmer sa relation avec le monde religieux des fêtes. L’effigie d’un Nubien à demi-allongé avec lanterne et amphore pourrait ainsi évoquer les beuveries nocturnes célébrant le retour de l’œil solaire lors de l’inondation, de même que celle d’un masque de Dionysos-Botrys composé de grappes de raisin. Enfin, deux piliers hermaïques avec caducée et pschent reproduisent une forme égyptisante d’Hermès, équivalent à Thot, qui avait convaincu la déesse éloignée de rentrer en Égypte9. La richesse théologique de toute cette imagerie conduit l’A. à suggérer que les producteurs des terres cuites déliennes avaient une connaissance très fine de la religion égyptienne, tout comme certains de leurs utilisateurs. Les coroplathes auraient même été capables d’innover, de créer de nouveaux types, tel l’Hermès-Thot, en combinant divers symboles pour traduire certains concepts égyptiens dans un langage visuel compréhensible par le public délien. L’expression de cette théologie nilotique à travers les terres cuites reflèterait l’existence de festivités locales réinterprétant ce qui se faisait en Égypte. L’équivalence entre le Nil et l’Inopos établie par Callimaque dans son Hymne à Délos (v. 206–208) en serait un autre écho, de même que les structures10 hydrauliques identifiées dans les Sarapieia de l’île.

6 Stimulante et ingénieuse à maints égards, cette analyse iconographique n’emporte toutefois pas totalement la conviction. L’A. y reconstitue un système cohérent (tableau 16) qui présente surtout l’avantage de donner un sens commun à toutes les images. Cette recherche sémantique qui sous-tend la constitution de ce véritable modèle interprétatif ne risque-t-elle pas néanmoins de nous éloigner de la réalité antique ? La volonté de tout rapporter à une grille de lecture globale semble en effet conduire l’A. à

Kernos, 27 | 2014 468

forcer à plusieurs reprises l’interprétation des monuments qu’elle a sous les yeux, sans approfondir d’autres pistes possibles. Est-il nécessaire d’évoquer les serpents Shaï et Renenoutet pour une statuette fragmentaire à l’effigie d’une dyade à la corne d’abondance (D53) qui a pu correspondre au couple anthropomorphe grec Agathos Daimon et Agathè Tychè, tel qu’il figure sur d’autres médias11 ? Il paraît tout aussi audacieux d’identifier des terres cuites reproduisant des chiens assez communs (D36– 40) à des images allégoriques de l’étoile Sothis ou de considérer comme égyptisant un type de masque dionysiaque (D81) vraisemblablement originaire d’Amisos dans le Pont. Autrement dit, l’analyse iconographique souffre d’une approche quelque peu égypto- centrique. Il est certes éclairant de rechercher la signification originelle des thèmes égyptiens ou égyptisants véhiculés par ces terres cuites, mais peut-on l’appliquer telle quelle au milieu délien d’époque tardo-hellénistique, sans tenir compte des multiples filtres et relais par lesquels ont dû passer ces images ? L’appropriation de référents égyptiens au sein d’un autre contexte culturel est loin d’être un processus linéaire, direct entre core et periphery12. Ces éléments sont bien souvent resémantisés pour véhiculer de nouvelles valeurs, lesquelles n’étaient pas forcément toujours religieuses. Certains des types affichés par ces terres cuites sont nettement en rapport avec l’univers isiaque, qui avait bel et bien exporté hors d’Égypte une forme de théologie nilotique osirienne, y compris à Délos comme l’atteste entre autres l’Hydreion du Sarapieion C13. D’autres pourraient renvoyer à une sphère plus culturelle, à l’instar de ces scènes « nilotiques » auxquelles l’A. consacre un petit excursus, mais qui auraient sans doute mérité davantage, puisqu’elle posent des problèmes d’analyse similaires. Ainsi que l’a révélé M.J. Versluys14, ces paysages du Nil en crue figurés le plus souvent sur des mosaïques et des peintures issues d’un environnement privé peuvent se prêter à un large spectre d’interprétations. Aucune de ces scènes n’a toutefois jusqu’ici été mise au jour à Délos15, où l’on rencontre en revanche ces terres cuites qui en seraient en quelque sorte les « équivalents tridimensionnels ».

7 Centré sur les contextes de découverte, le chapitre 5 (A Contextual Analysis of the Findspots of Egyptian and Egyptianizing Terracotta Figurines on Delos) nous entraîne du côté des utilisateurs qui, comme le note justement l’A. malgré son postulat général, pouvaient percevoir diversement les terres cuites en fonction de leurs besoins, y reconnaissant par exemple des allusions politiques. Les publications antérieures étant généralement vagues sur les lieux de trouvaille, l’A. a procédé à une courageuse enquête archivistique à travers les carnets de fouille de l’École française d’Athènes (Annexe C), ce qui lui permit de repréciser le contexte de quarante-six objets. Il s’avère qu’une bonne moitié provient d’habitations et de rues implantées dans divers quartiers résidentiels de l’île, une large distribution indiquant qu’ils n’étaient pas propres à une communauté en particulier. Les maisons qui en ont fournis sont de toutes tailles, appartenant donc à des individus de divers statuts socio-économiques. Même pour celles dont on connaîtrait les propriétaires, telle la Maison de l’Hermès liée à la famille des Paconii, il est toutefois difficile, sinon impossible, d’identifier qui utilisait réellement ces artefacts. Cinq terres cuites ont été découvertes dans les ateliers coroplathiques du Quartier du Théâtre et de l’Agora des Italiens, détruits lors de l’un des sacs de l’île, tandis que quatre autres sont issues de boutiques commercialisant diverses catégories de produits. La nécropole de Rhénée a livré deux pièces importées d’Égypte dont le contexte exact demeure imprécis. Enfin, onze terres cuites sont originaires de sanctuaires authentiquement déliens, tels le hieron d’Apollon et l’ Archegesion, mais aussi d’autres lieux de culte comme le naiskos de Dionysos, le Kabirion/

Kernos, 27 | 2014 469

Samothrakeion et la Synagogue. Quant aux Sarapieia A et C, ils ont livré diverses figurines, mais aucune de type égyptisant, ce qui révèle combien ce genre de matériel est généralement peu fiable pour étayer l’attribution d’un sanctuaire.

8 Les terres cuites égyptisantes de Délos sont donc en rapport avec un large éventail de contextes (tableau 17) où elles avaient eu, à en croire l’A., essentiellement des fonctions religieuses. Certaines ont ainsi très bien pu être utilisées dans le cadre de rituels domestiques en prenant place dans les niches murales de demeures déliennes. Le postulat de lecture iconographique a toutefois conduit l’A. à considérer un peu abusivement que tous les utilisateurs de ces objets étaient des fidèles des cultes « égyptisants ». Tel a peut-être été le cas du ou des défunt(s) inhumé(s) avec des figurines d’Harpocrate ithyphallique, une iconographie véhiculant parfois une idée de renaissance16. Peut-on toutefois attribuer pour autant un symbolisme égyptien implicite au reste du mobilier de leur tombe alors qu’il n’a visiblement rien à voir avec l’Égypte ? Et supposer ainsi par exemple que des vases plastiques campaniens à l’effigie d’un poisson et d’un dauphin puissent renvoyer au culte délien d’Isis Pelagia — si tant est qu’il ait existé ? Faisant partie intégrante de la culture matérielle délienne tardo- hellénistique, les monuments égyptiens et égyptisants apparaissaient naturellement dans des ensembles diversifiés et hétérogènes. C’est ainsi que les deux ateliers repérés pouvaient produire conjointement des terres cuites de types grecs, égyptisants et/ou anatoliens. Toutes les associations n’étaient évidemment pas innocentes, en particulier lorsqu’il s’agit de figurines votives, telles celles de dieux-nains dans le sanctuaire des Cabires, lesquels, à en croire Hérodote (III, 37), épousaient parfois une apparence similaire. Mais les fidèles ne percevaient pas nécessairement les images traditionnelles d’Aphrodite, d’Éros ou d’Athéna qu’ils déposaient dans les Sarapieia comme des manifestations de divinités égyptiennes. Rien ne permet en effet d’envisager systématiquement pour les terres cuites, comme d’ailleurs pour les inscriptions, une telle lecture « syncrétique »17 en l’absence d’indices plus explicites. Il paraît naturel de rencontrer au sein des sanctuaires déliens des référents aux autres membres du paysage religieux local, d’autant plus lors de la seconde domination athénienne, où la société présentait un caractère très cosmopolite.

9 L’analyse des matériaux, techniques, images et contextes des terres cuites égyptiennes et égyptisantes de Délos amène l’A. à conclure dans son chapitre 6 (Conclusions: Syncretic Theology in Household Cult) que de nombreux habitants de l’île étaient loin d’avoir un intérêt superficiel pour la religion égyptienne. Recouvrant diverses pratiques, notamment votives et domestiques, ces petits artefacts véhiculeraient une théologie nilotique sophistiquée rendue accessible à une audience grecque par leurs concepteurs, suivant peut-être les conseils des prêtres, et reflèteraient l’existence de festivités locales en rapport à ce Nil délien que semble évoquer Callimaque. Les cultes « égyptisants » de Délos auraient ainsi intégré, transformé des traditions authentiquement égyptiennes en y impliquant des individus appartenant à divers milieux culturels. Les négociants y furent particulièrement sensibles, exportant leur dévotion à travers la Méditerranée tout en menant leurs affaires commerciales18. Délos apparaît ainsi à l’A. comme un lieu atypique, unique à maints égards, véritable pivot de la diffusion de ces cultes dans le monde romain à une époque de désintégration de la religion civique. Or cette perspective est aujourd’hui largement dépassée, voire totalement invalidée. Bien des dossiers documentaires ont révélé que la polis n’était nullement en déclin à l’époque hellénistique19, mais aussi que Délos était seulement un relais parmi d’autres20 de la propagation de ces cultes qualifiés par l’A.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 470

d’« égyptisants ». L’usage récurrent de ce label à travers l’étude pose la question de la perception de ces cultes par les Déliens à l’époque tardo-hellénistique, au moment donc où ils utilisaient ces terres cuites. Les concevaient-ils toujours comme « étrangers » ? C’est ce qu’invite à croire l’A. en imaginant des stratégies délibérées de la part de fidèles soucieux d’exprimer la compatibilité des traditions religieuses égyptiennes et grecques pour anticiper d’éventuels mouvements de contestation — ce dont il est sérieusement permis de douter21. Implantés dès la 1re moitié du IIIe s. av. J.-C., ces cultes semblent surtout s’être rapidement adaptés aux formes locales, même s’ils conservaient des spécificités, et donc des aspects « égyptisants », qui ont peut-être fini par nécessiter le recours à des « spécialistes » formés en Égypte, tel cet Hôros du Mont Casion signalé aux côtés du prêtre grec local dans l’enceinte du Sarapieion A22.

10 Outre les annexes et un recueil de planches de bonne qualité, intégrant également quelques plans et photographies des structures architecturales, l’ouvrage se termine par d’utiles index, dont un consacré aux termes égyptiens, ainsi que par une importante bibliographie où l’on regrettera notamment l’absence de la réflexion terminologique publiée en 2005 par M. Malaise23, tout en constatant la présence du RICIS de L. Bricault, auquel ne se réfère toutefois jamais le très riche corps de notes infrapaginales. Si l’analyse menée par l’A. aurait sans doute dû mettre les terres cuites davantage en perspective avec les autres types de monuments isiaques dans le paysage religieux délien, elle a le mérite d’avoir présenté sur le mode anthropologique une documentation souvent négligée dans les études historico-religieuses, en fournissant au lecteur tous les détails nécessaires pour adhérer ou non à la grille de lecture proposée. Ce travail de recherche n’est d’ailleurs pas sans susciter de stimulantes perspectives, révélant notamment la nécessité de constituer un répertoire général du matériel coroplathique isiaque qui mettrait en dialogue les terres cuites déliennes avec celles trouvées sur d’autres sites, comme Amathonte24 à Chypre, afin d’affiner notre connaissance des modes de formation, de lecture et d’utilisation de ce type de médias figurés.

NOTES

1. A. LAUMONIER, Les figurines de terre cuite, Paris, 1956 (EAD, 23) ; A. BOVON, « Chapitre IX. Les figurines », in Ph. BRUNEAU et al., L’Îlot de la Maison des Comédiens, Paris, 1970 (EAD, 27), p. 209–218 ; P. HATZIDAKIS, « Ειδωλιόμορφα σκεύη από τη Δήλο », in St. DROUGOU et al. (éd.), ΣΤ᾽ Επιστημονική Συνάντηση για την Ελληνιστική Κεραμική, Βόλος 17–23 Απριλίου 2000: προβλήματα χρονολόγησης, κλειστά σύνολα-εργαστήρια. Πρακτικά, Athènes 2004, p. 367–392. 2. Au-delà de la note 3 précisant que le terme désigne des terres cuites fabriquées à l’extérieur de l’Égypte en imitation consciente de figurines égyptiennes. 3. RICIS, no 202/0101. 4. Un qualificatif qui n’est toutefois pas attesté dans les inscriptions pour le Sarapieion B (contra p. 402). 5. Voir, en attendant la publication par H. Siard du volume de l’EAD consacré aux trois Sarapieia, les études toujours utiles de P. ROUSSEL, Les cultes égyptiens à Délos du IIIe au Ier s. av. J.-C., Paris,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 471

1916, et M.-Fr. BASLEZ, Recherches sur les conditions de pénétration et de diffusion des religions orientales à Délos : IIe-Ier s. avant notre ère, Paris, 1977, p. 35–65. 6. Dont deux inédits inventoriés 59-M-204 (variante du type dit d’« Aphrodite orientale ») et F120 (tête d’Isis), ainsi qu’un troisième issu des fouilles de l’Aphrodision (corps drapé avec nœud isiaque). 7. Fr. DUNAND, Religion populaire en Égypte romaine. Les terres cuites isiaques du Musée du Caire, Leyde, 1979 (ÉPRO, 76). 8. Voir les articles réunis dans D.B. THOMPSON, H.A. THOMPSON, Hellenistic Pottery and Terracottas, Princeton, 1987. 9. L’un de ces piliers est ensuite évoqué (p. 332), sans doute erronément, comme « Harpocratic herm ». 10. Décrits par l’A. (p. 132–133) comme imitant les « nilomètres » égyptiens, ce qui est techniquement inexact. 11. Fr. DUNAND, s.v. « Agathodaimon », LIMC I (1981), p. 278, no 3–4, comprenant un relief délien, où C.E. Barrett (p. 245–6) propose curieusement de reconnaître Isis et Sarapis encadrant le serpent Agathos Daimon assimilé à Harpocrate. Voir, à ce sujet, les remarques prudentes de M. MALAISE, Pour une terminologie et une analyse des cultes isiaques, Bruxelles, 2005 (Mémoires de la Classe des Lettres de l’Académie royale de Belgique. Collection in-8o, 3e série, 35), p. 162–163. 12. Voir, entre autres, les stimulantes remarques de M.J. V ERSLUYS, « Understanding Egypt in Egypt and Beyond », in L. BRICAULT, M.J. VERSLUYS (éd.), Isis on the Nile. Egyptian Gods in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt. Proceedings of the IVth International Conference of Isis Studies, Liège, November 27–29 2008. M. Malaise in honorem, Leyde/Boston, 2010 (RGRW, 171), p. 12–20. 13. H. SIARD, « L’hydreion du Sarapieion de Délos : la divinisation de l’eau dans un sanctuaire isiaque », in L. BRICAULT et al. (éd.), Nile into Tiber: Egypt in the Roman World. Proceedings of the IIIrd International Conference of Isis Studies, Leiden, May 11–14 2005, Leyde/Boston, 2007 (RGRW, 159), p. 417–447. 14. M.J. VERSLUYS, Aegyptiaca Romana. Nilotic Scenes and the Roman Views of Egypt, Leyde/Boston, 2002 (RGRW, 144). 15. Ce qui avait conduit P.G.P. MEYBOOM, The Nile Mosaic of Palestrina. Early Evidence of Egyptian Religion in Italy, Leyde/New York/Cologne, 1995 (RGRW, 121), p. 85–88, à considérer que le répertoire nilotique était parvenu en terre italienne par une autre voie que celle prise par Isis et les siens. 16. C.E. BARRETT, « Harpocrates on Rheneia: Two Egyptian Figurines from the Necropolis of Hellenistic Delos », in A. MULLER, E. LAFLI (éd.), St. HUYSECOM-HAXHI (coll.), Figurines de terre cuite en Méditerranée grecque et romaine. I : productions et diffusion. II : contextes, iconographie et fonctions (colloque, Izmir, juin 2007), vol. II, Paris/Villeneuve d’Ascq, 2014, sous presse. 17. Qui conduit l’A. à supposer aussi (p. 411) que certaines figurines à thèmes totalement helléniques pouvaient être lues en contexte domestique délien sous un mode égyptien. 18. Sur ces réseaux cultuels, voir récemment P. MARTZAVOU, « Les cultes isiaques et les Italiens entre Délos, Thessalonique et l’Eubée », Pallas 84 (2010), p. 181–205. 19. Cf. dernièrement N. DESHOURS, L’été indien de la religion civique. Étude sur les cultes civiques dans le monde égéen à l’époque hellénistique tardive, Bordeaux, 2011 (Scripta Antiqua, 30). 20. Comme Thessalonique (Chr. STEIMLE, Religion im römischen Thessaloniki: Sakraltopographie, Kult und Gesellschaft 168 v. Chr. – 324 n. Chr., Tübingen, 2008 [STAC, 47], p. 79–132 et 184–190) ou Rhodes (Ch. FANTAOUTSAKI, « Preliminary Report on the Excavation of the Sanctuary of Isis in Ancient Rhodes: Identification, Topography and Finds », in L. BRICAULT, R. VEYMIERS [éd.], Bibliotheca Isiaca II, Bordeaux, 2011, p. 47–63 [au sein d’un dossier documentaire consacré à divers sites de Grèce, p. 9–129]).

Kernos, 27 | 2014 472

21. C’est ainsi que l’A. interprète (p. 303–304) le sénatus-consulte assurant le maintien du Sarapieion A (RICIS, no 202/0195) qui reflète en fait davantage un conflit socio-politique que religieux au moment où l’île passe à nouveau sous contrôle athénien. Voir, en dernier lieu, P. MARTZAVOU, « “Isis” et “Athènes” : épigraphie, espace et pouvoir à la basse époque hellénistique », in L. BRICAULT, M.J. VERSLUYS (éd.), Power, Politics and the Cults of Isis. Proceedings of the Vth International Conference of Isis Studies, Boulogne-sur-Mer, October 13–15, 2011, Leyde/Boston, 2014 (RGRW, 180), p. 163–191. 22. RICIS, no 202–0197. 23. Voir supra, n. 30. 24. Voir le dépôt votif publié par A. QUEYREL, Amathonte. IV. Les figurines hellénistiques de terre cuite, Athènes/Paris, 1988 (Études chypriotes, 10), dont les statuettes isiaques, contemporaines de celles de Délos, ne sont pas évoquées par C.E. Barrett.

AUTEURS

RICHARD VEYMIERS UMR 8210 ANHIMA — Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 473

Beat NÄF, Testimonia Alt-Paphos

Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge

RÉFÉRENCE

Beat NÄF, Testimonia Alt-Paphos, Mainz, Philipp von Zabern, 2013. 1 vol. 23 × 31,5 cm, xviii+116 p. (Ausgrabungen in Alt-Paphos auf Cypren, 8). ISBN : 978–3–8053–4579–8.

1 Ce volume s’inscrit dans la série qui publie les fouilles dirigées par Franz Georg Maier à Palaipaphos dans l’île de Chypre depuis les années 1950. L’ouvrage reprend de manière systématique les testimonia littéraires évoquant Paphos, depuis la période archaïque jusqu’au tout début du XXe siècle. Chaque notice comprend l’auteur et le titre de l’œuvre, sa datation et le contexte du passage, la référence complète, le texte original, une traduction allemande, quelques éléments bibliographiques et un commentaire éventuel. Ces notices sont essentiellement réparties dans le chapitre III, qui regroupe chronologiquement les testimonia antiques (signalons que les scholiastes et commentaires suivent directement l’œuvre commentée, ce qui rompt la chronologie mais satisfait à la cohérence du propos), dans le chapitre IV, qui regroupe les mentions de Paphos depuis le moyen âge jusqu’au XVIIIe siècle, et dans le chapitre V qui voit se succéder les voyageurs, chercheurs et archéologues qui se sont arrêtés sur le site, plus ou moins longtemps selon les cas, depuis le XVIIIe siècle jusqu’aux évocations de Paphos par Max Ohnefalsch-Richter ou John Myres. Les chapitres précédents (I et II) reprennent respectivement des notices sur la géographie du lieu (I) et les Paphiens historiques, tout autant que certains aspects des mythes locaux (II). Dans cette dernière catégorie, on trouve, par ordre alphabétique, les protagonistes divins et héroïques associés au site (par ex. Adonis, Agapenor, Aphrodite, Kinyras…) tout autant que des aspects du culte (par ex. Opfer, Orakel, Pflanzen- und Tierwelt, Priester…). Les notices des sources invoquées à cet endroit peuvent être consultées dans les chapitres suivants.

2 Il s’agit d’un outil de travail soigneusement conçu et impeccablement édité. Il rendra d’incontestables services à ceux qu’intéressent le site de Paphos et le sanctuaire de sa « souveraine », en qui les Grecs ont vu très tôt une Aphrodite. Pour compléter le tableau de la documentation antique, il convient également de se reporter au volume

Kernos, 27 | 2014 474

IV (1986) des Ausgrabungen, dû à O. Masson et T.B. Mitford sur Les inscriptions syllabiques de Kouklia-Paphos, et d’attendre le volume d’A. Kolb, annoncé dans la même série, sur les inscriptions alphabétiques.

AUTEURS

VINCIANE PIRENNE-DELFORGE F.R.S.-FNRS — Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 475

Daniel BARBU, Philippe BORGEAUD, Mélanie LOZAT, Youri VOLOKHINE (éd.), Mondes clos. Cultures et jardins

André Motte

RÉFÉRENCE

Daniel BARBU, Philippe BORGEAUD, Mélanie LOZAT et Youri VOLOKHINE (éd.), Mondes clos. Cultures et jardins, Gollion, Infolio, 2013. 1 vol. 14,5 × 21,5 cm, 384 p. (Asdiwal, suppl. 1). ISBN : 978–2–88474–265–8.

1 Ce sont les Actes d’un colloque interdisciplinaire qui s’est tenu, en avril 2011, à l’Université de Genève. Comme l’indiquent les éditeurs scientifiques dans leur introduction, la rencontre avait pour but d’étudier, à travers différents contextes culturels et historiques, la manière dont l’homme pense l’espace clos des jardins et comment s’exprime, en l’occurrence, le rapport de la nature et de la culture. Dix-sept contributions concourent à ce projet et trois disciplines principales y sont représentées, la philologie, l’histoire de l’art et l’ethnologie. Le parcours est géographiquement et chronologiquement très ample, mais sont notoirement privilégiés l’Orient et l’Europe aux temps anciens. C’est ainsi qu’on est invité à visiter successivement le Japon, l’Inde, l’Égypte, Sumer, la Grèce, le monde juif du jardin d’Éden et la tradition chrétienne, représentée notamment par le thème médiéval du hortus conclusus, illustration paradigmatique de la première partie du titre de l’ouvrage. Les jardins grecsont droit à quatre contributions. Après quelques généralités, celle de Philippe Borgeaud, richement documentée (Sagesses de jardiniers, p. 105–118), nous conduit du divin jardin d’Alcinoos, dans l’Odyssée, au jardin de Zeus qu’évoque Plotin, en passant notamment par ce même jardinier que Platon met en scène dans le Banquet ; elle cite aussi plusieurs textes peu connus relatifs à la thématique des rapports entre philosophie, mantique inspirée et jardin. Les trois autres contributions au domaine grec portent sur des sujets beaucoup plus restreints : David Bouvier, Ulysse au paradis,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 476

sous le regard du perroquet, p. 119–137, Philippe Matthey, Les pommes d’amour des Hespérides, p. 139–163, et Anne-Françoise Jacottet, Paradis, création littéraire et conception du sacré : le jardin merveilleux de Dionysophanès dans les pastorales de Longos, p. 165–175.

2 Au simple énoncé de ces titres, on devine que la religion et la mythologie sont souvent concernées dans ces enquêtes, même si elles ne mobilisent pas l’attention principale des auteurs. Bénéficiant d’une édition soignée, l’ouvrage se lit très agréablement (on en oublie l’inconfort causé par le report des notes à la fin du volume…) et soutient l’intérêt par l’abondante diversité et, souvent, l’originalité des sujets traités : un parcours qu’on pourrait qualifier de kaléidoscopique. Du point de vue comparatiste cependant, l’absence d’un chapitre de conclusions et d’une relation des échanges auxquels la rencontre a pu donner lieu fait qu’on reste un peu sur sa faim, car, mettre en contact invite certes à la comparaison, mais n’est pas encore comparer, si du moins comparer veut dire faire apparaître les rapports de ressemblance et de différence. Cette abstention, à vrai dire, est bien consciente et voulue par les éditeurs, car « il appartient au seul lecteur, à chaque lecteur, en tant que sujet comparant, de réunir sous un seul regard (son regard qu’il ne nous appartient pas de prédéfinir), la richesse et la diversité des jardins que nous présentons ici » (p. 11). L’argument ne convainc pas totalement, car ouvrir des pistes de comparaison n’aurait nullement contraint le regard du lecteur et ne l’aurait pas empêché, le cas échéant, d’en concevoir d’autres. Mais qu’à cela ne tienne : les hellénistes ont ici une belle occasion de sortir des sentiers battus de leur domaine pour tenter de comparer l’incomparable…

AUTEURS

ANDRÉ MOTTE F.R.S.-FNRS — Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014 477

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Revue des livres

2. Actes de colloques, ouvrages collectifs et anthologies

Kernos, 27 | 2014 478

Revue des actes de colloques, ouvrages collectifs et anthologies

Actes de colloques, ouvrages collectifs et anthologies

AMPOLO Carmine (éd.), Sicilia occidentale. Studi, rassegne, ricerche, Pisa, Edizioni della Normale, 2012 (Seminari e Convegni, 29). L. Nigro, Scavi e restauri dell’Università di Roma ‘La Sapienza’ a Mozia 2007–2009: il Tempio del Kothon, il Temenos Circolare, il Sacello di Astarte e il Tofet, p. 207–218; M. De Bernardin, Per un’analisi della figura di Eracle in Sicilia: dal VII sec. a.C. all’età romana, p. 305–312; B. Lietz, Il santuario e la dea di Erice: una vocazione politica?, p. 313–318. AUGOUSTAKIS Antony (éd.), Ritual and Religion in Flavian Epic, Oxford, OUP, 2013. A. Augoustakis, Introduction: Representing Ritual and Religion in Flavian Epic, p. 1–13; M. Fucecchi, With (a) God on Our Side: Ancient Ritual Practices and Imagery in Flavian Epic, p. 17–32; G. Manuwald, Divine Messages and Human Actions in the Argonautica, p. 33–51; H. Lovatt, Competing Visions: Prophecy, Spectacle, and Theatricality in Flavian Epic, p. 53–70; A. Tuttle, Argive Augury and Portents in the Thebaid, p. 71–87; E. Manolaraki, ‘Consider in the Image of Thebes’. Celestial and Poetic Auspicy in the Thebaid, p. 89–107; A. Huber, Malae preces and their Articulation in the Thebaid, p. 109–126; F. Bessone, Religion and Power in the Thebaid, p. 145–161; R. Parkes, Chthonic Ingredients and Thematic Concerns: The Shapping of the Necromancy in the Thebaid, p. 165–180; N. Dee, Wasted Water: The Failure of Purification in the Thebaid, p. 181–198; R. Joy Littlewood, Patterns of Darkness: Chthonic Illusion, Gigantomachy, and Sacrificial Ritual in the Punica, p. 199–215; R. Cowan, Back Out of Hell: The Virtual Katabasis and Initiation of Silius’ Minucius, p. 217–232; N.W. Bernstein, Ritual Murder and Suicide in the Thebaid, p. 233–248; R. Ganiban, The Death and Funeral Rites of Opheltes in the Thebaid, p. 249–265; M.T. Dinter, Epitaphic Gestures in Statius and Silius Italicus, p. 267–283; A. Keith, Medusa, Python, and Poine in Argive Religious Ritual, p. 303– 317; Ch. Chinn, Orphic Ritual and Myth in the Thebaid, p. 319–334; V. Panoussi, Dancing in Scyros: Masculinity and Young Women’s Rituals in the Achilleid, p. 335–351. BONNECHERE Pierre, GAGNÉ Renaud (éd.), Sacrifices humains. Perspectives croisées et représentations /Human sacrifice. Cross-cultural perspectives and representations, Liège,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 479

Presses universitaires, 2013 (Collection Religions. Comparatisme – Histoire – Anthropologie, 2). P. Bonnechere, R. Gagné, Introduction. Le sacrifice humain : un phénomène au fil d’Ariane évanescent, p. 7–20 ; P. Bonnechere, Victime humaine et absolue perfection dans la mentalité grecque, p. 21–60 ; J. Mylonopoulos, Gory Details? The Iconography of Human Sacrifice in Greek Art, p. 61–85 ; J.N. Bremmer, Human Sacrifice in Euripides’ Iphigenia in Tauris: Greek and Barbarian, p. 87–100 ; R. Gagné, Athamas and Zeus Laphystios: Herodotus 7.197, p. 101– 118 ; A. Henrichs, Répandre le sang sur l’autel : ritualisation de la violence dans le sacrifice grec, p. 119–144 ; R. Parker, Substitution in Greek Sacrifice, p. 145–152. CALDERONE Anna (éd.), Cultura e religione delle acque. Atti del Convegno interdisciplinare ‘Qui fresca l’acqua mormora…’ (S. Quasimodo, Sapph. fr. 2,5) Messina 29–30 marzo 2011, Roma, Giorgio Bretschneider Editore, 2012 (Archaeologica, 167). C. Giuffrè Scibona, Osservazioni sul valore liminare dell’acqua nella religione greca, p. 35–49; C. Masseria, Verso un altro mare, con incerto tragitto. Hera e la metopa con ‘l’eroe sulla tartaruga’, p. 51–69; M. De Cesare, Le nymphai e l’acqua in Sicilia: l’imagerie vascolare, p. 141–168; E.C. Portale, Le nymphai e l’acqua in Sicilia: contesti rituali e morfologia dei votivi, p. 169–191; C. Greco, V. Tardo, A proposito dei santuari lungo il fiume Modione a Selinunte, p. 193–206; F. Pizzi, L’acqua delle Ninfe. Il caso ‘complesso’ di Locri, p. 221–234. CASTIGLIONE Marianna, POGGIO Alessandro (éd.), Arte-Potere. Forme artistiche, istituzioni, paradigmi interpretativi. Atti del convegno di studio tenuto a Pisa. Scuola Normale Superiore, 25–27 Novembre 2010, Milano, Edizioni Universitarie di Lettere Economia Diritto, 2012 (Archeologia e Arte antica). F. Santi, Myth and Images on the Acropolis of Athens in the Archaic Period, p. 87–95; C. Marconi, Altari e potere, p. 195–200. CUSSET Christophe, PRIOUX Évelyne, RICHER Hamidou (éd.), Euphorion et les mythes. Images et fragments. Actes du colloque international (Lyon, 19–20 janvier 2012), Naples, Centre Jean Bérard, 2013 (Études, 9). St. Wyler, Dionysos chez Euphorion, p. 17–39 ; F.-H. Massa-Pairault, Orion, p. 41–61 ; É. Prioux, Figures de devins et signes du destin, p. 63–90 ; C. Pouzadoux, Figures de devins et signes du destin dans la céramique apulienne, p. 91–109 ; N. Icard, A.-V. Szabados, Des couronnes pour Mélicerte, p. 111–140 ; R. Robert, Euphorion, entre Claros et Grynium, p. 143– 162 ; P. Linant de Bellefonds, L’ ‘ardente’ Sémiramis : fragments d’une image contrastée, p. 163–180 ; E. Magnelli, Myth and History in Euphorion’s Eastern Tales, p. 181–194 ; Ch. Cusset, B. Acosta-Hugues, Euphorion et Lycophron, p. 199–207 ; V. Gigante Lanzara, La ‘Musa sottile’ alla corte di Antioco, p. 209–224 ; E. Sistakou, The Dark Side of Euphorion, p. 225–246 ; J. Pagès Cebrian, Euphorion dans les scholies mythographiques à l’Iliade, p. 247– 264 ; J.A. Clúa, Serena : Euphorion, la malédiction mythique et le comique intentionnel, p. 267– 279 ; A. Kolde, Les chevaux d’Asbotos et les génisses de Téléboens : les fragments du Thrace comme échantillons de la poétique d’Euphorion, p. 281–298. CUSUMANO Nicola, GASPARINI Valentino, MASTROCINQUE Attilio, RÜPKE Jörg (éd.), Memory and Religious Experience in the Greco-Roman World, Stuttgart, Steiner, 2013 (Postdamer Altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge, 45). N. Cusumano, Memory and Religion in the Greek World, p. 17–19; N. Cusumano, Glaucus and the Importance of Being Earnest. Herodotus 6.86 on Memory and Trust, Oath and Pain, p. 21–53; I. Solima, The Perpetuation of Memory in the Myths and Cults of Artemis in the Peloponnese, p. 55–61; D. Bonanno, Memory Lost, Memory Regained. Considerations on the Recovery of

Kernos, 27 | 2014 480

Sacred Texts in Messenia and in Biblical Israel: A Comparison, p. 63–80; G.F. Chiai, The Origins and Deeds of our Gods: Inscriptions and Local Historical-Religious Memories in the Hellenistic and Roman World, p. 81–114; D. Motta, Heroic Memory and Polis: Achilles and Athens in Zosimus’ Historia Nova, p. 115–131. DENTI Mario, TUFFREAU-LIBRE Marie (éd.), La Céramique dans les contextes rituels. Fouiller et comprendre les gestes des anciens. Actes de la table ronde de Rennes (16–17 juin 2010), Rennes, Presses Universitaires, 2013 (Archéologie & Culture). M. Denti, Pour une archéologie de l’absence. Observations sur l’analyse intellectuelle et matérielle de la céramique en contexte rituel, p. 13–23 ; M. Tuffreau-Libre, La céramique dans les contextes rituels et religieux, p. 25–27 ; S. Huber, Le cratère, l’hydrie et la cruche à haut col. Des céramiques au service des premiers rituels à Érétrie (Grèce), p. 75–93 ; M. Denti, Dépositions de céramique et significations des contextes rituels à l’époque proto-archaïque en Italie méridionale, p. 95–112 ; G. Bron, Amphores et gestes rituels. Usages et fonctions d’une catégorie céramique aux périodes proto-archaïque au sein du monde grec, p. 113–126 ; J.- P. Morel, Des céramiques aux ‘gestes’, des ‘gestes’ aux rites. Impressions finales d’une table ronde, p. 203–213. FUNKE Peter, HAAKE Matthias (éd.), Greek Federal States and Their Sanctuaries. Identity and Integration. Proceedings of an International Conference of the Cluster of Excellence ‘Religion and Politics’ Held in Münster, 17.06.–19.06.2010, Stuttgart, Steiner, 2013 (Ancient History). P. Funke, Greek Federal States and Their Sanctuaries: Identity and Integration. Some Introductory Remarks, p. 9- 12; A.D. Rizakis, États fédéraux et sanctuaires : Zeus Homarios et la construction de l’identité achéenne, p. 13–47; P. Funke, Thermika and Panaitolika. Alte und neue Zentren im Aitolischen Bund, p. 49–64; K. Freitag, Die Akarnanen: Ein Ethnos ohne religiöses Zentrum und gemeinsame Feste?, p. 65–83; A. Ganter, A Two-Sided Story of Integration: The Cultic Dimension of Boiotian Ethnogenesis, p. 85–105; J. Roy, Olympia, Identity and Integration: Elis, Eleia, and Hellas, p. 107–121; M.P. Fronda, Southern Italy: Sanctuary, Panegyris and Italiote Identity, p. 123–138; G. Daverio Rocchi, Ethnic Identity, Cults and Territorial Settlement: East and West Locrians, p. 139–161; M. Hatzopoulos, Was Dion Macedonia’s Religious Centre?, p. 163–171; K. Buraselis, Confederacies, Royal Policies and Sanctuaries in the Hellenistic Aegean: The Cases of Nesiotai, Lesbioi and Kretaieis, p. 173– 183; J. McInerney, Making Phokian Space: Sanctuary and Community in the Definition of Phokis, p. 185–203; R. Bouchon, B. Helly, Construire et reconstruire l’État fédéral thessalien (époque classique, époque hellénistique et romaine). Cultes et sanctuaires des Thessaliens, p. 205–226; Th. Heine Nielsen, Can ‘Federal Sanctuaries’ Be Identified in Triphylia and Arkadia?, p. 227–244. GILDENHARD Ingo, ZISSOS Andrew (éd.), Transformative Change in Western Thought. A History of Metamorphosis from Homer to Hollywood, Oxford, Legenda, 2013. I. Gildenhard, A. Zissos, The Transformations of Ovid’s Medea (Metamorphoses VIII. 1–424), p. 88–130; S. Macrì, Lynx-stone and Coral: ‘Liquid Rocks’ between Natural History and Myths of Transformation, p. 131–152; M. Baumbach, Proteus and Protean Epic: From Homer to Nonnos, p. 153–162; Z. Jaques, Arboreal Myths: Dryadic Transformations, Children’s Literature, and Fantastic Trees, p. 163–182. KAJAVA Mika (éd.), Studies in Ancient Oracles and Divination, Rome, Institutum Romanum Finlandiae, 2013 (Acta Instituti Romani Finlandiae, 40). S.-I. Kittelä, Dodona and Neoptolemus: Heroic Genealogies and Claims of Ethnicity, p. 29–47; A. Lampinen, Θεῷ μεμελημένε Φοίβῳ — Oracular Functionaries at Claros and Didyma in the

Kernos, 27 | 2014 481

Imperial Period, p. 49–88; M. Buchholz, Questions to Oracles in Graeco-Roman Egypt: A Quantitative Approach to the Papyrological Evidence, p. 89–109. MARKANTONATOS Andreas (éd.), Brill’s Companion to Sophocles, Leiden/Boston, Brill, 2012. R. Rehm, Ritual in Sophocles, p. 411–427; J.D. Mikalson, Gods and Heroes in Sophocles, p. 429–446. MARTZAVOU Paraskevi, PAPAZARKADAS Nikolaos (éd.), Epigraphical Approaches to the Post- Classical Polis. Fourth Century BC to Second Century AD, Oxford, OUP, 2013 (Oxford Studies in Ancient Documents). S. Kravaritou, Thessalian Perceptions of the Ruler Cult: archegetai and ktistai from Demetrias, p. 255–275; A. Schachter, F. Marchand, Fresh Light on the Institutions and Religious Life of Thespiai: Six New Inscriptions from the Thespiai Survey, p. 277–299. NIEMEIER W.-D., PILZ O., KAISER I. (éd.), Kreta in der geometrischen und archaischen Zeit. Akten des Internationalen Kolloquiums am Deutschen Archäologischen Institut, Abteilung Athen 27.-29. Januar 2006, München, Hirmer Verlag, 2013 (Athenaia, 2). M. Melfi, The Lithos and the Sea. Some Considerations on the Cult of the Greek Sanctuary at Kommos, p. 355–365; O. Pilz, Die Kulte von Praisos in der spätgeometrischen und archaischen Zeit, p. 367–382; K. Sporn, Kretische Mythen versus Mythen über Kreta. Zur Einführung von Mythenbildern kretischer Thematik auf Kreta, p. 395–408; M. D’Acunto, The City Siege and the Lion. The Fortetsa Bronze Belt and Quiver between Near Eastern Models and Heroic Ideology, p. 471–487. PASCHALIS Michael, PANAYOTAKIS Stelios (éd.), The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel, Groningen, Barkhuis Publishing/Groningen University Library, 2013 (Ancient Narratives, suppl. 17). G. Rosati, The Loves of the Gods: Literature as Construction of a Space of Pleasure, p. 89–103; F. Létoublon, Mythological Paradigms in the Greek Novels, p. 127–145; M. Paschalis, The Basic Plot of Callirhoe: History, Myth, and Aristotelian Poetics, p. 161–177. PERRA Rosella (éd.), Il significato delle immagini. Numismatica, arte, filologia, storia. Atti del secondo incontro internazionale di studio del Lexicon Iconographicum Numismaticae (Genova, 10–12 Novembre 2005), Roma, Giorgio Bretschneider Editore, 2012 (Università degli Studi di Genova. Dipartimento di Scienze dell’Antichità, del Medioevo e Geographico-Ambientali. Serta Antiqua et Mediaevalia, 14). M. Caccamo Caltabiano, DEA e NYMPHE. L’ideologia della personificazione della Città nell iconografia monetale, p. 27–50; B. Lichocka, Aphrodite et les émissions monétaires Chypriotes, p. 51–67; S. De Pace, Le emissioni isiache: nuove riflessioni, p. 503–510. RÜPKE Jörg (éd.), The Individual in the Religions of the Ancient Mediterranean, Oxford, OUP, 2013. J. Rüpke, Individualization and Individuation as Concepts for Historical Research, p. 3–38; C. Bonnet, The Religious Life in Hellenistic Phoenicia: ‘Middle Ground’ and New Agencies, p. 41–57; J.A. North, Disguising Change in the First Century, p. 58–84; C. Ando, Subjects, Gods, and Empire, or Monarchism as a Theological Problem, p. 85–111; F. Graf, Individual and Common Cult: Epigraphic Reflections, p. 115–135; R. Gordon, The Religious Anthropology of Late-Antique ‘High’ Magical Practice, p. 163–186; K. Waldner, Dimensions of Individuality in Ancient Mystery Cults: Religious Practice and Philosophical Discourse, p. 215–242; N. Belayche, Individualization and Religious Rhetoric in Imperial Anatolia, p. 243–266.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 482

SCHUBERT Charlotte, WEISS Alexander (éd.), Amazonen zwischen Griechen und Skythen. Gegenbilder in Mythos und Geschichte, Berlin/Boston, de Gruyter, 2013 (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde, 310). A. Ivantchik, Amazonen, Skythen und Sauromaten: Alte und moderne Mythen, p. 73–87; Ch. Schubert, Amazonen und Transvestiten. Zur Konstruktion von Mythen, Riten und Krankheiten, p. 89–110; J. Fornasier, J.N. Burg, Der Amazonenmythos in der Kunst griechischer Schwarzmeerstädte, p. 185–219; R. Fleischer, Die Amazonen und das Asyl des Artemisions von Ephesos, p. 259–263. TOUMAZOU Michael K., KARDULIAS P. Nick, COUNTS Derek B. (éd.), Crossroads and Boundaries. The Archaeology of Past and Present in the Malloura Valley, Cyprus, Boston (MA), American Schools of Oriental Research, 2011 (Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research, 65) S. Fourrier, Pots for Goods and for Gods: the Iron Age Ceramics from the Malloura Sanctuary, p. 125–132; E.W. Averett, The Ritual Context of the Malloura Terracotta Figurines, p. 133–147; C.M. Cofer, Cypriot Pan at the Crossroads in Late Classical and Hellenistic Cyprus: the Evidence from Athienou-Malloura, p. 163–177; N.G. Blackwell, J.A. Johnson, Exploring Sacred Space: GIS Applications for Analyzing the Athienou-Malloura Sanctuary, p. 291–302. TRZASKOMA Stephen M., SMITH R. Scott (éd.), Writing Myth: Mythography in the Ancient World, Leuven/Paris/ Walpole (MA), Peeters, 2013 (Studies in the History and Anthropology of Religion, 4). R.L. Fowler, Herodotos and the Early Mythographers: The Case of the Kabeiroi, p. 1–19; K.A. MacFarlane, Choerilus Mythistoricus?, p. 21–35; D.W. Berman, Greek Thebes in the Early Mythographic Tradition, p. 37–54; J.N. Bremmer, Local Mythography: The Pride of Halicarnassus, p. 55- 73; L.E. Patterson, Geographers as Mythographers: The Case of Strabo, p. 201–221; C.A. Gibson, True or False? Greek Myth and Mythography in the Progymnasmata, p. 289–308. VAN DER STOCK Luc, TITCHENER Frances, INGENKAMP Heinz Gerd, PÉREZ JIMÉNEZ Aurelio (éd.), Gods, Daimones, Rituals, Myths and History of Religions in Plutarch’s Works. Studies Devoted to Professor Frederick E. Brenk by the International Plutarch Society, Málaga/Logan, Universidad de Málaga/Utah State University, 2010. B. Boulet, The Use of Myths and Superstition in Plutarch, p. 59–64; R. Caballero, La estructura tripartita del alma de los dioses en la tradición platónica: los testimonios de Alcínoo, Plutarco y Plotino, p. 85–110; G. D’Ippolito, Plutarco il mito dell’esule Cadmo, p. 137–142; J.A. Fernández Delgado, Héroes, enigmas y edad de los démones, de Hesíodo a Plutarco, p. 163–176; F. Frazier, Quand Plutarque actualise le mythe d’Er. Delphes, la Justice et la Providence dans le mythe de Thespésios ( De sera 22.563B-33.568A), p. 193–210; J. Geiger, Plutarch, Dionysus, and the God of the Jews Revisited (An Exercice in Quellenforschung), p. 211– 220; A. Georgiadou, Plutarch’s Amatorius: towards a Reconstruction of a Cult of Eros, p. 229– 254; D. Gigli Piccardi, Giuliano, Nonno e l’avvento di Dioniso, p. 255–264; I. Muñoz Gallarte, Ciencia y religión en conflicto: fantasmas y sucesos paranormales en Plutarco, p. 295–314; R. Scannapieco, Circe, la Luna e l’anima. Il frammento plutarcheo 200 Sandbach, p. 363–396. VIGNOLO MUNSON Rosaria (éd.), Oxford Readings in Classical Studies. Herodotus: Volume 2. Herodotus and the World, Oxford, OUP, 2013. J. Gould, Herodotus and Religion, p. 183–197; W. Burkert, Herodotus on the Names of the Gods: Polytheism as a Historical Problem, p. 198–209.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 483

Contributions particulières

BERNABÉ A., « The Sixth Definition ( Sophist 226a-231c): Transposition of Religious Language », in B. BOSSI, Th.M. ROBINSON (éd.), Plato’s Sophist Revisited , Berlin/Boston, 2013 (Trends in Classics, suppl. 19), p. 41–56.

BONNET Corinne, « Lorsque les ‘autres’ entrent dans la danse… Lectures phéniciennes des identités religieuses en contexte multiculturel », in P. PAYEN, É. SCHEID-TISSINIER (éd.), Anthropologie de l’Antiquité. Anciens objets, nouvelles approches, Turnhout, 2012, p. 101–119. CAIRNS Douglas, « Divine and Human Action in the Oedipus Tyrannus », in D. CAIRNS (éd.), Tragedy and Archaic Greek Thought, Swansea, 2013, p. 119–171. CAMIA Francesco, « Theoi Olympioi e Theoi Sebastoi: alcune considerazioni sull’associazione tra culto imperiale e culti tradizionali in Grecia », in E. FRANCHI, G. PROIETTI (éd.), Forme della memoria e dinamiche identitarie nell’antichità greco-romana, Trento, Università degli Studi di Trento, Dipartimento di Filosofia, Storia e Beni Culturali, 2012 (Quaderni, 2), p. 93–110. D’ORIANO R., PIETRA G., « Stratificazione dei culti urbani di Olbia fenicia, greca, punica et romana », in S. ANGIOLILLO, M. GIUMAN, Ch. PILO (éd.), Meixis. Dinamiche di stratificazione culturale nella periferia greca e romana. Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi ‘Il sacro e il profano’. Cagliari, Citadella dei Musei 5–7 maggio 2011, Roma, 2012 (Archaeologica, 169), p. 173–188. GASENT A., « Corònides i Asclepi. Un exemple d’intervenció divina a la Periègesi de Pausànies », in C. PADILLA, J. REDONDO (éd.), El sobrenatural a les literatures mediterrànies des de l’època clàssica fins a les societats actuals, Amsterdam, 2012 (Classical and Byzantine Monographs, 77), p. 127–140. MORGAN C., « Sanctuaries, the State and the Individual », in J. KÖNIG (éd.), Greek Athletics, Edinburgh, Edinburgh UP, 2013 (Edinburgh Readings on the Ancient World), p. 23–35. OSBORNE R., « Democracy and Religion in Classical Greece », in J.P. ARNASON, K.A. RAAFLAUB, P. WAGNER (éd.), The Greek Polis and the Invention of Democracy. A Politico-cultural Transformation and Its Interpretations, Chichester, 2013, p. 274–297. PALEOTHODOROS D., « Dionysus and the Tyrrhenian Pirates », in V. BELLELLI, Le origini degli Etruschi. Storia, archeologie, antropologia, Roma (Studia Archaeologica, 186), p. 455–485. PARRA M.C., FACELLA A., « L’area centrale di Entella tra spazio civico e spazio cultuale », in C. AMPOLO (éd.), Agora greca e agorai di Sicilia, Pisa, 2012 (Seminari e Convegni, 28), p. 239– 244. REINHARDT U., Mythische Mischwesen in Literatur und Kunst der Antike, in M. KUNZE (éd.), Vorsicht Lebensgefahr! Sirenen, Nixen, Meerjungfrauen in der Kunst seit der Antike. Katalog einer Ausstellung im Winckelmann-Museum vom 20. Oktober 2013 bis 19. Januar 2014, Ruhpolding/Mainz, 2013 (Ausstellungskataloge der Winckelmann-Gesellschaft), p. 11–14. SPORN K., « ‘Der göttliche Helikon’. Bergkulte oder Kulte auf den Bergen in Griechenland », in R. BREITWIESER, M. FRASS, G. NIGHTINGALE (éd.), Calamus. Festschrift für Herbert Graßl zum 65. Geburtstag, Wiesbaden, 2013 (Philippika, 57), p. 465–477. WEST St., « Divine Anger Management: The Greek Version of the Myth of the Sun’s Eye (P.Lond.Lit. 192) », in T. WHITMARSH, St. THOMSON (éd.), The Romance between Greece and the East, Cambridge, 2013, p. 79–90.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 484

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Revue des livres

3. Ouvrages reçus à la rédaction

Kernos, 27 | 2014 485

Revue des ouvrages reçus à la rédaction*

BELLELLI Vincenzo, MAZZI Marco, Extispicio. Una “scienza” divinatoria tra Mesopotamia ed Etruria, Roma, Scienze e Lettere, 2013. 1 vol. 15 × 21 cm, xiv+94 p.+ill. (Sacra publica et privata, 1). ISBN : 978–88–6687–031–9.

BORGEAUD Philippe et FABIANO Doralice (éd.), Perception et construction du divin dans l’Antiquité, Genève, Droz, 2013. 1 vol. 15 × 22 cm, 358 p. (Recherches et Rencontres, 31). ISBN : 978–2–600–01644–5. BRICAULT Laurent, VERSLUYS Miguel John (éd.), Egyptian Gods in the Hellenistic and Roman Mediterranean: Image and Reality Between Local and Global, Caltanissetta, Salvatore Sciascia Editore, 2012. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, viii+144 p. (Supplemento a Mythos, 3). ISBN : 978–88–8241– 418–4. Cadmo. Revista de História Antiga. Centro de História da Universidade de Lisboa, 22 (2013), Lisboa, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 23 cm, 342 p. ISSN : 0871–9257. CASSIMATIS Hélène, Éros dans la céramique à figures rouges italiote. Essai d’interprétation iconographique et iconologique, Paris, De Boccard, 2014. 1 vol. 15,5 × 24 cm, 588 p.+ill. ISBN : 278–2–7018–0342–5. DE MARCO Vittorio, Scholia in Sophoclis Oedipum Coloneum, Roma, Sestante Edizioni, 2012. 1 vol. 17,5 × 24,5 cm, 24+xxx+76 p. ISBN : 978–88–6642–081–1. DI DONATO Riccardo, Per una storia culturale dell’antico. Contributi a una antropologia storica, Pise, Edizioni ETS, 2013. 2 vol. 16 × 23 cm, 621 p. ISBN : 978–884673686–4. DUCOURTHIAL Guy, Petite flore mythologique, Paris, Éditions Belin, 2014. 1 vol. 15 × 20 cm, 246 p. ISBN : 978–2–7011–8282–7. EKROTH Gunnel & WALLENSTEN Jenny, Bones, Behaviour and Belief. The Zooarchaeological Evidence as a Source for Ritual Practice in Ancient Greece and beyond, Stockholm, Svenska Institutet I Athen, 2013. 1 vol. 22 × 27,5 cm, 275 p. (Acta Instituti Atheniensis Regni Sueciae, series in 4o, 55). ISBN : 978–91–7916–062–3. FERRIÈS Marie-Claire, CASTIGLIONI Maria Paola, LÉTOUBLON Françoise (éd.), Forgerons, élites et voyageurs d’Homère à nos jours. Hommages en mémoire d’Isabelle Ratinaud-Lachkar,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 486

Grenoble, Presses Universitaires de Grenoble, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, 552 p. ISBN : 978– 2–7061–1791–6. FONTANA Federica (a cura di), Sacrum facere. Atti del I Seminario di Archeologia del Sacro (Trieste, 17–18 febbraio 2012), Trieste, Edizioni Università di Trieste, 2013. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, viii+296 p. (Polymnia. Studi di archeologia, 5). ISBN : 978–88–8303–507–4. FOWLER Robert L., Early Greek Mythography. Volume 2: Commentary, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2013. 1 vol. 18 × 25 cm, xxi+825 p. ISBN : 978–0–19–814741–1. GAGNÉ Renaud and GOVERSHOPMAN Marianne (éd.), Choral Mediations in Greek Tragedy, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 23,5 cm, x+429 p. ISBN : 978–1– 107–03328–3. GAGNÉ Renaud, Ancestral Fault in Ancient Greece, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 23,5 cm, x+556 p. ISBN : 978–1–107–03980–3. GILLIS Anne-Catherine (dir.), Corps, travail et statut social. L’apport de la paléoanthropologie funéraire aux sciences historiques, Villeneuve d’Ascq, Presses Universitaires du Septentrion, 2014. 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, 212 p. (Archaiologia). ISBN : 978–2–7574–0767–7. GOUREVITCH Danielle, Limos kai loimos. A Study of the Galenic Plague, Paris, Éditions de Boccard, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, 171 p. ISBN : 978–2–7018–0336–4. HAWES Greta, Rationalizing Myth in Antiquity, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2014. 1 vol. 14,5 × 22 cm, xiv+280 p. ISBN : 978–0–19–967277–6. HEIDMANN Ute, VAMVOURI RUFFY Maria, COUTAZ Nadège (dir.), Mythes (re)configurés. Création, dialogues, analyses, Lausanne, Université de Lausanne, 2013. 1 vol. 16,5 × 23 cm, x+270 p. (Collection du CLE). ISBN : 978–2–8399–1292–1. KALOGERΟPOULOS, Kοnstantinos. Το ιερό της Αρτέμιδος Ταυροπόλου στις Αλές Αραφηνίδες (Λούτσα), Athènes, Académie d’Athènes, 2013. 2 vol. 124 p – 221 p., 169 pl. (Πραγματείαι της Ακαδημίας Αθηνών, 71). ISBN : 978–960–404–272–2. KOWALZIG Barbara & WILSON Peter (éd.), Dithyramb in Context, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2013. 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, xviii+488 p. ISBN : 978–0–19–957468–1. LEFKA Aikaterini, “Tout est plein de dieux”. Les divinités traditionnelles dans l’œuvre de Platon, Paris, L’Harmattan, 2013. 1 vol. 15,5 × 25 cm, 562 p. ISBN : 978–2–343–00939–1. LLOYD Alan B., Ancient Egypt: State and Society, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2014. 1 vol. 15,5 × 23 cm, xxiv+364 p. ISBN : 978–0–19–928619–5. MASSA Francesco, Tra la vigna e la croce. Dioniso nei discorsi letterari e figurativi cristiani (II- IV secolo), Stuttgart, Franz Steiner Verlag, 2014. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, 328 p. (Postdamer Altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge, 47). ISBN : 978–3–515–10631–3. MURGIA Emanuela, Culti e romanizzazione. Resistenze, continuità, trasformazioni, Trieste, Edizioni Università di Trieste, 2013. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, 495 p. ISBN : 978–88–8303–478–7. PAKKANEN Jari, Classical Greek Architectural Design: A Quantitative Approach, Helsinki, 2013. 1 vol. 17,5 × 25 cm, ii+127 p. (Papers and Monographs of the Finnish Institute at Athens, 18). ISBN : 978–952–67211–6–3. PEDRUCCI Giulia, L’allattamento nella Grecia di epoca arcaica e classica, Roma, Scienze e Lettere, 2013. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, xviii+318 p. + ill. (Sacra publica et privata, 3). ISBN : 978– 88–6687–038–8. PENNANEN R.P., POULOS P.C., THEODOSIOU A., Ottoman Intimacies, Balkan Musical Realities, Helsinki, Foundation of the Finnish Institute at Athens, 2013. 1 vol. 17,5 × 25 cm,

Kernos, 27 | 2014 487

xxx+173 p. (Papers and Monographs of the Finnish Institute at Athens, 19). ISBN : 978–952– 67211–5–6. POLINSKAYA Irene, A Local History of Greek Polytheism. Gods, People and the Land of Aigina, 800–400 BCE, Leiden/Boston, Brill, 2013 (Religions in the Graeco-Roman World, 178). 1 vol. 16 × 24 cm, xxviii+660 p. ISBN : 978–900423404–8 POUZADOUX Claude, Éloge d’un prince daunien. Mythes et images en Italie méridionale au IVe siècle av. J.-C., Rome, École Française, 2013. 1 vol. 21 × 28 cm, xi+403 p. ISBN : 978–2– 7283–0937–5. SUÁREZ DE LA TORRE Emilio, PÉREZ JIMÉNEZ Aurelio (éd.), Mito y Magia en Grecia y Roma, Barcelona, Libros Pórtico, 2013. 1 vol. 17,5 × 24,5 cm, 335 p. (Estudios de Astrología, Magia y Religión Antiguas, 1). ISBN : 978–84–7956–114–7. TRAVAINI Lucia e ARRIGONI Giampiera (a cura di), Polis, urbs, civitas: moneta e identità. Atti del convegno di studio del Lexicon Iconographicum Numismaticae (Milano, 25 ottobre 2012), Roma, Edizioni Quasar, 2013. 1 vol. 15 × 21 cm, 244 p. (Monete, 6). ISBN : 978–88–7140– 537–7. VERGER Stéphane et PERNET Lionel (dir.), Une odyssée gauloise. Parures de femmes à l’origine des premiers échanges entre la Grèce et la Gaule, Arles, Éditions Errance, 2013. 1 vol. 22 × 28 cm, 400 p. (Archéologie de Montpellier Agglomération, 4). ISBN : 978–2–87772–538–5. ZOGRAFOU Athanassia, Papyrus Magiques Grecs : Le mot et le rite. Autour des rites sacrificiels, Ioannina, Université de Ioannina, 2013. 1 vol. 17 × 24 cm, 160 p. (Δωδώνη, Παράρτημα 85).ISBN : 978–960–233–211–5.

NOTES

*. Nous mentionnons dans cette rubrique tous les ouvrages reçus, en nous réservant la possibilité de ne pas en produire de compte rendu si le sujet n’entre guère dans la thématique de Kernos. Quant aux revues que nous recevons, leurs articles qui concernent la religion grecque, et eux seuls, sont repris dans la Revue des Revues.

Kernos, 27 | 2014 488

Chronique des activités scientifiques

Revue des revues

Kernos, 27 | 2014 489

Revue des revues

Stéphanie Paul

AHEARNE-KROLL Stephen, « The Afterlife of a Dream and the Ritual System of the Epidaurian Asklepieion », ARG 15 (2013), p. 35–51 [Mnémosyne joue un rôle dans le souvenir de l’action guérisseuse d’Asclépios lors de l’incubation, souvenir qui dépasse parfois les limites du sanctuaire et témoigne plus largement de l’action divine dans la sphère humaine (voir aussi infra)].

AHEARNE-KROLL Stephen, « Mnemosyne at the Asklepieia », CPh 109 (2014), p. 99–118 [étude du dossier épigraphique des Asklepieia d’Épidaure, de Pergame et du Pirée qui atteste l’invocation à Mnémosyne précédant l’incubation ; l’intervention de la déesse se produirait dans la faculté, pour le patient, de se souvenir du rêve à son réveil, puis d’ordonner ses idées afin de pouvoir le transmettre clairement, mais également dans la création littéraire des iamata destinés à en conserver la mémoire]. ALLAN Arlene L., POTTER Jamie A., « Loxias and Phoebus in Tragedy : Convention and Violation », AJPh 135 (2014), p. 1–27 [l’analyse des tragédies appartenant au cycle d’Œdipe montre que le choix de l’utilisation des noms Loxias ou Phœbus pour Apollon n’est pas interchangeable : en accord avec l’étymologie, le premier signale l’obscurité de l’oracle rendu par le dieu, qui suscite quelques doutes, tandis que le second en indique la clarté, ainsi que la confiance des protagonistes envers le dieu]. ALLEN Nick, « Heroes and Pentads: Or How Indo-European is Greek Epic? », BICS 57 (2014), p. 1–19 [étude des héros achéens de l’épopée homérique par une comparaison avec la tradition sanskrite et à l’aune du modèle des cinq fonctions, adapté du modèle trifonctionnel dumézilien]. AMELING Walter, « Ein Altar des Maussollos in Labraunda », ZPE 187 (2013), p. 215–219 [commentaire sur le culte de Mausole, à partir de la mention dans une inscription honorifique de Labraunda, d’un autel installé dans le sanctuaire de Zeus]. ASSAËL Jacqueline, « L’Helène d’Euripide, un drame initiatique », PP 383 (2012), p. 81–103 [interprétation “mystérique” de la présence de l’eidôlon d’Hélène dans cette tragédie d’Euripide]. AUGIER Marie, « Prêtresse et ἀρχή en Attique : une aporie ? Un règlement de l’époque impériale », Ktèma 38 (2013), p. 293–304 [le fait que les prêtresses étaient soumises en

Kernos, 27 | 2014 490

Attique aux mêmes contrôles que les magistrats, à savoir la dokimasie et la reddition des comptes, montre que les prêtrises féminines étaient considérées comme des magistratures]. BACHVAROVA Mary R., « Io and the Gorgon: Ancient Greek Medical and Mythical Constructions of the Interaction between Women’s Experiences of Sex and Birth », Arethusa 46 (2013), p. 415–446 [les mythes d’Io, de la Gorgone, de Ion et d’Électre, tels que racontés dans les tragédies d’Eschyle et d’Euripide, sont utilisés, en combinaison avec les traités de médecine antique, pour illustrer l’anxiété du mariage, de la sexualité et de l’accouchement dont les femmes faisaient l’expérience, ainsi que les interactions entre naissance, mort et mariage]. BARRE Romain, « Les Antigonides avaient-ils des cornes ? Sur l’utilisation d’un attribut divin dans les représentations d’une dynastie hellénistique », DHA 39/2 (2013), p. 125– 145 [examen de la sémantique des cornes taurines et caprines comme attribut iconographique des représentations des Antigonides et leur rapport avec les divinités auxquelles elles sont associées]. BAUMER Lorenz E., « Entre dieux et mortels – Le contact visuel sur les reliefs votifs grecs classiques », Pallas 92 (2013), p. 43–54 [le jeu de regards entre dieux et humains sur les stèles votives répond à des règles différenciées ; alors que le cas le plus fréquent est celui où les personnages évitent le regard des uns et des autres, une série à part est constituée par les scènes de guérison, qui ont la particularité de représenter des rêves]. BELTRAMETTI Anna, « Le sacrifice des trois princes perses et l’assassinat d’Éphialte : Plutarque réécrit l’histoire des pères de la démocratie athénienne », Pallas 91 (2013), p. 95–110 [le récit par Plutarque, citant Phanias de Lesbos, de ce sacrifice à Dionysos Omestes dans la Vie de Thémistocle évoque en toile de fond l’histoire du sacrifice d’Iphigénie dans les versions d’Eschyle et d’Euripide]. BLODGETT Michael D., « Your Gods, They Have Deserted You. Sicily and Carthage from Gelon to Timoleon », AncW 44 (2013), p. 177–195 [l’intégration par Carthage du culte de Déméter et Korè démontre le soutien de cette cité envers l’aristocratie sicilienne et contre le tyran Denys]. BONNECHERE Pierre, « Oracles et grande politique en Grèce ancienne. Le cas de l’orgas sacrée et de la consultation de Delphes en 352/351 avant J.-C. (1re partie) », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 263–288. BONNECHERE Pierre, « Oracles et grande politique en Grèce ancienne. Le cas de l’orgas sacrée et de la consultation de Delphes en 352/351 avant J.-C. (2e partie) », Mètis 11 (2013), p. 289–302 [l’étude en deux volets sur le décret IG II 2 204 réfute l’hypothèse d’éventuels enjeux politiques sous-jacents à la consultation de l’oracle à propos de la mise en culture d’une terre sacrée, mais montre que les préoccupations étaient avant tout d’ordre religieux]. BONNET Corinne, « “Comme des nœuds qui les unissaient tous ensemble” (Voltaire). Le processus d’interpretatio en Phénicie à l’époque hellénistique », CRAI (2012), p. 503–515 [le cas du sacrifice à Héraclès par Alexandre le Grand lors de la prise de Tyr permet de poser le problème de l’interpretatio entre dieux grecs et phéniciens]. BOULIC Nicolas, « Procuste et son lit dans la littérature et la céramique antique : lectures symboliques », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 229–250 [ce lit, qui fait son apparition assez tardivement dans la tradition, revêt diverses significations en lien avec le rôle civilisateur de Thésée, la question de l’altérité et la reproduction].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 491

BRANCACCIO Ida, « Parentele mitiche e rapporti geopolitici tra Attica e Grecia continentale. L’eroe Kephalos e il filone attico », ASAA 90 (2012), p. 9–32 [l’étude des généalogies mythiques autour de la figure de Xouthos et sa descendance révèle l’existence de connections entre Athènes, l’Attique et des régions de Grèce centrale, comme l’Eubée, la Béotie et la Phocide ; ces liens, exploités dans la politique du tyran Pisistrate, remontent probablement à une époque antérieure]. BREMMER Jan N., « Divinities in the Orphic Gold Leaves: Euklês, Eubouleus, Brimo, Kybele, Kore and Persephone », ZPE 187 (2013), p. 35–48 [étude de ces divinités, qui entretiennent pour la plupart un lien étroit avec le culte de Déméter et Korè ; c’est toutefois Perséphone qui occupe la place la plus importante dans les tablettes ; celles-ci révèlent une certaine intimité dans la relation entre la déesse et les initiés, loin de la représentation redoutable de reine des Enfers]. BRETIN-CHABROL Marine, « Des arbres au féminin : la nymphe, les fruits, et le grammairien », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 307–327. BROUILLET Manon, « Que disent les mots des dieux ? », Métis 11 (2013), p. 147–181 [analyse des passages de l’épopée homérique où des réalités sont désignées par un nom spécifiquement divin et un nom humain ; cette double dénomination est révélatrice des rapports entre les hommes et les dieux]. BRUIT ZAIDMAN Louise, « Déméter-Mère et les figures de la maternité », Métis 11 (2013), p. 93–108 [le mythe de l’enlèvement de Korè et la dynamique de séparation et retrouvailles entre la mère et la fille structurent la célébration des Thesmophories et trouvent un écho dans l’expérience vécue par les femmes grecques]. BULTRIGHINI Ilaria, « “Twin Inscriptions” from the Attic Deme of Myrrhinous », ZPE 186 (2013), p. 141–151 [à propos de deux inscriptions votives à Apollon Pythios et Zeus Phratrios ; les deux piliers étaient probablement destinés à être érigés côte à côte dans le sanctuaire d’Apollon Pythios dans le dème de Myrrhinous]. CALAME Claude, « Les Hymnes homériques comme offrandes poétiques : relations musicales et rituelles avec les dieux », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 51–76. CALDERÓN DORDA Esteban, « El concepto de religión en Esquilo: reflexión terminológica », Emerita 81 (2013), p. 295–313 [étude du vocabulaire dans les tragédies d’Eschyle exprimant la notion de “religion” ; c’est la notion d’eusebeia qui parait exprimer le mieux la relation avec le divin]. CAMIA Francesco, « A Note on the Athenian Hiereus of Drusus Hypatos », Tekmeria 11 (2012), p. 37–50 [la disparition de la prêtrise de Drusus, associée à l’archontat éponyme, aurait été provoquée par la visite d’Hadrien à Athènes en 111/112 ap. J.-C., année où il a exercé l’office d’archonte]. CAMIA Francesco, « Political Elite and Priestly Posts in Athens during the Roman Imperial Period: Some Considerations », ZPE 188 (2014), p. 139–148 [sur base des données épigraphiques et prosopographiques, un lien étroit est établi entre l’exercice des plus hautes magistratures de la cité d’Athènes et celui de la prêtrise du culte impérial dès le milieu du Ier s. de notre ère].

CANEVA Stefano G., « Arsinoe Divinizzata al fianco del re vivente Tolemeo II: uno studio di propaganda greco-egiziana (270–246 A.C.) », Historia 62 (2013), p. 280–322 [étude des sources textuelles et iconographiques grecques et égyptiennes qui montre que la représentation posthume d’Arsinoé Philadelphe divinisée en tant que protectrice de

Kernos, 27 | 2014 492

son époux et de sa politique est une création de la propagande lagide ; publication en annexe d’une stèle représentant le couple royal]. CARASTRO Marcello, « Fabriquer du lien en Grèce ancienne : serments, sacrifices, ligatures », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 78–107 [le serment et les pratiques rituelles qui l’accompagnent — sacrifices et libations — sont envisagés dans leur fonction de créateurs de lien social ; l’exemple du serment de Cyrène vient étayer les réflexions proposées]. CARBON Jan-Mathieu, « Dolphin-Pillars », EA 46 (2013), p. 27–34 [mise en relation du culte d’Apollon Delphinios avec les offrandes de dauphins posés sur un pilier, tels qu’on en trouve notamment sur une dédicace de Mylasa ; les gylloi, objets servant de bornes pour la procession des Molpes à Milet, pourraient avoir appartenu à cette catégorie]. CARBONI Romina, « Divagazione sul tema del sandalo: significato e valenza tra la sfera celeste e quella ctonia », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 113–131 [analyse des significations symboliques des sandales dans la tradition grecque, qui met particulièrement en exergue le cas de la sandale dorée de Déméter et des sandales d’or et de bronze d’Hécate ; les dernières sont reliées aux phases lunaires et à la dimension chthonienne de la déesse]. CASTRUCCI Greta, « La favola bella della τροφή satiresca: precettori bucolici e prodigi pedagogici: l’infanzia nel mito sulla scena ateniese », SIFC 10 (2012), p. 154–190 [enquête sur l’importance du thème de la trophè des dieux et des héros dans le genre du drame satirique]. CERRI Giovani, « La place de la Gorgone : où est passée la tête de la Méduse ? (Odyssée, XI, 627 et suiv.) », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 13–42 [l’épisode où la tête de la méduse sert de repoussoir à ceux qui tentent d’accéder à l’Hadès constitue un unicum absent de la tradition postérieure et qui déconcertera les commentateurs antiques]. CIAMPA Silvana, « Lo sguardo di Atena e la violenza di Aiace su Cassandra. Da Alceo ai poeti tardoantichi », PP 384 (2012), p. 198–215 [parcours des témoignages littéraires de l’enlèvement de Cassandre se concentrant sur le regard d’Athéna ; la déesse est représentée dans la poésie alexandrine comme détournant le regard, signifiant par là sa désapprobation de l’impiété commise en sa présence]. CLO Magdeleine, « La panoplie de Persée : fonctions de l’objet-attribut », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 43–58 [par l’exemple de Persée, l’A. montre comment l’objet-attribut, qui trouve sa fonction dans la narration et en résonnance avec l’ensemble des autres objets, participe à la construction d’un personnage mythique]. CRUCCAS Emiliano, « Tra mito e culto. Antropologia del vaso nei miti di fondazione dei culti dei Cabiri e dei Grandi Dei », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 279–303 [l’analyse d’un ensemble de vases est mise en regard de la complexité et de la diversité du culte des Cabires et des Grands Dieux]. CURSARU Gabriela, « Le mythe de Dédale et d’Icare et le thème du vol des mortels en corps vivant », Phoenix 66 (2012), p. 298–334 [mise en évidence des motifs présents dans le mythe du vol d’Icare et de la perception négative par les anciens du thème de l’ascension des mortels vers le ciel]. CURSARU Gabriela, « Les πτερόεντα πέδιλα de Persée », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 95–112 [étude des fonctions symboliques des sandales ailées de Persée, en regard notamment des

Kernos, 27 | 2014 493

sandales hermaïques : les unes comme les autres sont étroitement reliées à l’idée de passage d’un monde à l’autre]. CUVELIER Pierre, « Objet de valeur, objet de désir et signes de pouvoir : “l’épaule” de Pélops et la marque des Pélopides », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 191–210 [sur les diverses symboliques attachées à l’épaule de Pélops, qui renvoient à la notion de pouvoir et de distinction]. CYRINO Monica S., « Bows and Eros: Hunt as Seduction in the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite », Arethusa 46 (2013), p. 375–393 [analyse des stratégies de séduction d’Aphrodite, qui impliquent l’appropriation de l’imagerie de la chasse propre à Artémis]. DANA Madalina, « Entre Crimée et Bosphore : d’une Parthenos à l’autre », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 289–308 [mise en regard du culte de la Parthenos à Chersonèse et de la Phosphoros à Byzance, qui se concentre sur le contexte cultuel davantage que sur l’identité de la divinité]. DASEN Véronique, « Healing Images. Gems and Medicine », Oxford Journal of Archaeology 33 (2014), p. 177–191 [propose une interprétation de l’iconographie des gemmes médico-magiques et s’interroge sur l’utilisation de ces images comme vecteurs de savoirs et de pratiques orales.]. DAVIES Malcolm, « The Hero at the Crossroads: Prodicus and the Choice of Heracles », Prometheus 39 (2013), p. 3–17 [le récit de la rencontre d’Héraclès avec Areté et Kakia à un carrefour comporte plusieurs motifs de contes populaires, tels que les trois frères à un carrefour, la mise à l’épreuve du héros ou encore l’attribution des destins par des figures féminines au berceau]. DE LA GENIÈRE Juliette, « “Vase des Lénéennes” Cent ans après », REG 126 (2013), p. 21–48 [réévaluation des deux ensembles de vases dits “des Lénéennes” : tandis que les lécythes étaient destinés à être employés en contexte funéraire par des Grecs, les stamnoi étaient achetés par de riches clients étrusques ou campaniens, infirmant ainsi l’hypothèse d’un lien avec ces fêtes attiques]. DE SANCTIS Dino, « “Quando Eracle giunse ad Erythia…” Gerione in Esiodo, Stesicoro ed Ecateo », SCO 57 (2011), p. 57–72 [sur la double représentation de Géryon dans la Théogonie, tantôt comme un monstre à trois têtes, tantôt comme un héros aux caractéristiques humaines]. DEACY Susan, « From “Flowery Tales” to “Heroic Rapes”: Virginal Subjectivity in the Mythological Meadow », Arethusa 46 (2013), p. 395–413 [partant des récits de l’enlèvement d’Europe et de Perséphone, explore la question du désir féminin dans les scènes de viol de jeunes filles par des dieux]. DELATTRE Charles, « Pentaméron mythographique. Les Grecs ont-ils écrit leurs mythes ? », Lalies 33 (2013), p. 77–170 [exposé sur la mythographie qui vise à réévaluer la complexité et la diversité de ce qui a été constitué comme un genre littéraire à la fin du XIXe s.].

DIGNAS Beate, « A Property Transaction between Kindye and Mylasa. I.Mylasa 11 reconsidered », EA 46 (2013), p. 1–26 [commente notamment la relation entre Zeus Osogōllis et Zenoposeidon à Mylasa]. DOWNIE Janet, « Narrative and Divination: Artemidorus and Aelius Aristides », ARG 15 (2013), p. 97–116 [mise en parallèle de deux sources commentant l’herméneutique de l’oniromancie et de leur position respective sur l’élément narratif des rêves].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 494

ECKHARDT Benedikt, « “Bloodless Sacrifice”: A Note on Greek Cultic Language in the Imperial Era », GRBS 54 (2014), p. 255–273 [étude de l’évolultion du terme ἀναίμακτος, “non-sanglant”, de son application cultuelle assez tardive et de son lien avec le domaine de la guerre]. EHMIG Ulrike, « Entwaffnete Götter. Überlegungen zur Interpretation antiker Waffenweihungen », Tyche 28 (2013), p. 41–50 [considérations sur l’interprétation d’offrandes d’armes miniatures]. FARAONE Christopher A., « At the Limits of Efficacious Speech : the Performance and Audience of Self-Curses in Ancient Near Eastern and Greek Oaths », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 120–133 [explore les cas où la malédiction qui clôt le serment s’accompagne d’une action rituelle visant à accroître l’efficacité de la parole]. FERNÁNDEZ URIEL Pilar, « Le regard d’Actéon », BAGB (2013), p. 67–90 [interprétation du mythe à travers les sources littéraires et iconographiques, de l’Antiquité jusqu’à nos jours, et mise en évidence du thème du viol du tabou de la divinité]. FERRARI Franco, « From Orpheus to Teiresias: Solar Issues in the Derveni Papyrus », ZPE 186 (2013), p. 57–75 [commentaire religieux des vers col. 8, 4–5]. FRANKEN Norbert, « Ein ägyptisches Bronzerelief der Göttin Mut aus dem Athena- Heiligtum », AK 56 (2013), p. 3–11 [analyse d’un relief en bronze représentant la déesse égyptienne Mut, et provenant du sanctuaire archaïque d’Athéna à Milet ; le relief serait un support à la fabrication de feuilles d’or ou d’argent et aurait été dédié par des particuliers plutôt que par des personnes de haut rang]. FRONTISI-DUCROUX, « À propos de l’autel : le bomos, un capteur graphique », Pallas 93 (2013), p. 81–95 [le rapport entre texte et image est exploré à travers l’exemple de l’autel]. GANGLOFF Anne, « Le langage des statues : remploi et resémantisation des statues grecques sous le Haut-Empire (Dion de Pruse, Or. XII et XXXI) », Métis 11 (2013), p. 303– 326 [envisage notamment la fonction de la statue de Zeus Olympien par Phidias selon le Discours olympique de Dion]. GEHRKE Hans-Joachim, « Theoroi in und aus Olympia. Beobachtungen zur religiösen Kommunikation in der archaischen Zeit », Klio 95 (2013), p. 40–60 [envisage l’institution de la theoria et de la theorodokia en regard de la formation identitaire aux niveaux local, régional et panhellénique]. GEORGOUDI Stella, « L’alternance de genre dans les dénominations des divinités grecques », EuGeStA 3 (2013), p. 25–42 [reprend le dossier complexe des cas où le nom du dieu est accompagné d’une épiclèse formée sur le nom d’une déesse — et inversement : Zeus Heraios, Damatrios, Aphrodisios, Athéna Areia et Aphrodite Areia]. GIUMAN Marco, « L’adamantino dono di Ermes. L’harpe di Perseo : uno strumento divino al servizio dell’eroe », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 59–79 [l’arme de Persée a connu une évolution dans la description de sa forme, évolution qui va de pair avec une transformation de sa signification symbolique]. GOTTESMAN Rachel, « The Wanderings of Io: Spatial Readings into Greek Mythology », Métis 11 (2013), p. 239–263 [dans la mesure où les récits mythiques permettent d’articuler les structures et représentations spatiales, l’article propose, par le biais du mythe des errances d’Io, la construction d’un modèle spatial grec centré sur la mer Méditerranée].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 495

GOUËSSAN Antony, « La τρυφή ptolémaïque royale », DHA 39/2 (2013), p. 73–101 [met en relation la pratique de la tryphè des Lagides avec le dieu Dionysos ; le décalage entre l’idéal de cette pratique et sa représentation dans les sources principalement romaines est mis en évidence]. GRAF Fritz, « Dangerous Dreaming: The Christian Transformation of Dream Incubation », ARG 15 (2013), p. 117–142 [argumente contre l’hypothèse d’une continuité entre la pratique de l’incubation païenne et chrétienne]. GRAML Constanze, « Eine neue Ehreninschrift der Thiasotai der Artemis Ἀρίστη καὶ Καλλίστη », ZPE 190 (2014), p. 116–126 [distingue ce culte d’Artémis de celui d’une Artémis Sôteira, toutes deux honorées par des associations, et rapprochées à tort]. GRASSI Giulia Francesca, « Due parole semitiche nelle iscrizioni del santuario della dea siriana a Delo », ZPE 186 (2013), p. 171–175 [commentaire sur les noms d’origine sémitiques τὸν ειγαν dans l’inscription ID 2234 et τὸν ναμαραν dans les inscriptions ID 2240 et 2241, tous deux désignant l’objet de dédicaces provenant du sanctuaire de la déesse syrienne à Délos : le premier serait l’équivalent du mot syriaque īgā, désignant un ruisseau ou une fontaine sacrée ; le second pourrait désigner une insigne cultuelle]. GREEN Lucca Daniel, « On The Suppliants’ Sprint: The Socioreligious Context of Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannus 1–3 », CJ 109 (2013/14), p. 129–137 [relecture des vers 1–3 du prologue de cette tragédie : le verbe θοάζετε signiferait “se hâter”, plutôt que “être assis”, et décrirait donc le mouvement d’approche par les suppliants de la personne à qui ils vont adresser leur supplication]. GYSEMBERGH Victor, « Le tirage au sort des provinces divines chez Homère (Iliade 15, 185– 199) et ses antécédents mésopotamiens : un état de la question », REG 126 (2013), p. 49– 64 [étude comparative du mythe de la répartition du monde entre Zeus, Poséidon et Hadès, attesté pour la première fois dans l’Iliade, et le récit mésopotamien intitulé Atram-Hasīs, dont il pourrait tirer son origine]. HOLTON John Russel, « Demetrios Poliorketes, Son of Poseidon and Aphrodite. Cosmic and Memorial Significance in the Athenian Ithyphallic Hymn », Mnemosyne 67 (2014), p. 370–390 [l’interprétation de la parenté de Démétrios Poliorcète est abordée en regard du contexte historique et intellectuel de ses interactions avec Athènes ; tandis que l’association des deux divinités est à mettre en relation avec la victoire navale à Salamine de Chypre, Poséidon représente le pouvoir sur les mers et Aphrodite, dans son aspect d’Ourania, fait écho aux éléments cosmiques qui entourent la figure de Démétrios]. HORNBLOWER Simon, « Lykophron and Epigraphy: the Value and Function of Cult Epithets in the Alexandra », CQ 64 (2014), p. 91–120 [la confrontation des épiclèses divines attestées dans ce poème, aux témoignages épigraphiques démontre que celles- ci renvoient pour la plupart à de multiples contextes cultuels du monde grec]. HUBBARD T.K., « The Irreducibility of Myth: Plato’s Phaedrus, Apollo, Admetus, and the Problem of Pederastic Hierarchy », Phoenix 67 (2013), p. 81–106 [analyse du mythe d’Apollon au service d’Admète du point de vue de la relation entre l’eromenos et l’ erastes]. JIM Theodora Suk Fong, « The Nature of the Religious Dispute in Thucydides 1.25.4 », CQ 63 (2013), p. 537–542 [nouvelle lecture de ce passage selon laquelle les Corcyriens

Kernos, 27 | 2014 496

auraient refusé à Corinthe, leur cité-mère, l’honneur d’accomplir les rites d’ouverture du sacrifice lors de fêtes panhelléniques]. JIM Theodora Suk Fong, « Aparchai in the Great List of Thasian Theôroi », CQ 64 (2014), p. 13–24 [la première et la seconde ἀπαρχή dans l’intitulé de la liste des théores de Thasos ne font pas référence à une magistrature, mais doivent être interprétées en contexte religieux : il s’agirait de théores envoyés par la cité pour apporter une offrande aux dieux ; hypothèses sur la destination de ces aparchai (Delphes, fêtes panhelléniques, la cité-mère de Paros, ou encore le sanctuaire des Theoi Megaloi de la Samothrace voisine)]. KALLET Lisa, « Thucydides, Apollo, the Plague, and the War », APh 134 (2013), p. 355–382 [analyse des procédés narratifs mis en place par Thucydide visant à attribuer à Apollon la cause de la peste qui toucha Athènes durant la guerre du Péloponnèse]. KAMPAKOGLOU Alexandros, « Glimpses of Immortality : Theocritus on the Apotheosis of Queen Berenice I », RFIC 141 (2013), p. 300–334 [dans sa dépiction de l’apothéose de Bérénice, Théocrite s’est inspiré du phénomène de l’héroïsation, particulièrement du mythe d’Iphigénie, et fait écho aux représentations et rituels funéraires égyptiens]. KATÓ Peter, « Von der Verlosung zum Verkauf des Priestertums oder umgekehrt? Bemerkungen zu einer lex sacra aus Antimachia (Kos) », ZPE 187 (2013), p. 211–214 [à propos du mode d’attribution de la prêtrise de Déméter à Antimachia, dème de Cos, qui aurait été pour un temps mise à la vente, avant d’être de nouveau tirée au sort]. KNOEPFLER Denis, ACKERMANN Guy, « Phulè Admètis : un nouveau document sur les institutions et les cultes de l’Érétriade trouvé dans les fouilles de l’École suisse d’archéologie en Grèce », CRAI (2013), p. 905–949 [commentaire de cette inscription nouvellement découverte qui comporte une discussion sur le culte d’Admète, héros éponyme de l’une des tribus d’Érétrie]. KOSTUCH Lucyna, « The Warrior Queen. The Cult of Hellenistic Female Rulers as the Basis of their Symbolic Participation in Military Acts », AAntHung 52 (2012), p. 193–201 [l’association des reines avec les victoires militaires est une conséquence, plutôt qu’une cause, de leur divinisation]. KOURSOUNIS Sokrates S., « Έν Δέραις καλουμέναις τῆς σφετέρας· Αναζητώντας μία αρχαία θέση και ένα ιερό στην βόρεια Μεσσηνία », Tekmeria 11 (2012), p. 1–16 [possible identification d’un sanctuaire d’Artémis Dereatis/Eleia, mentionné par Pausanias et Strabon, avec un temple dorique daté de la période archaïque ou classique, et mis au jour récemment près du mont Tetrazi]. KRÖLL Nicole, « Schwimmen mit Dionysos. Wasser und Badeszenen als Kompositionselemente in den Dionysiaka des Nonnos von Panopolis », WS 126 (2013), p. 67–100 [les scènes de bain dans les Dionysiaca de Nonnos de Panopolis doivent être mises en relation avec la naissance des attributs de Dionysos que sont la vigne et le vin, ainsi qu’avec l’intégration du dieu parmi les Olympiens, deux thèmes au centre de cette œuvre].

KRULAK Todd C., « ΘΥΣΙΑ and Theurgy: Sacrificial Theory in Fourth- and Fifth-century Platonism », CQ 64 (2014), p. 353–382 [les théories néoplatoniciennes sous-jacentes au sacrifice sont examinées par le biais d’une approche comparative entre les quatre auteurs Jamblique, Sallustius, Julien et Proclus, afin de déceler quel rôle jouait la pratique sacrificielle dans la pensée théurgique].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 497

KYRIELEIS Helmut, « Pelops, Herakles, Theseus. Zur Interpretation der Skulpturen des Zeustempels von Olympia », JDAI 127–128 (2012–2013), p. 51–124 [analyse approfondie de la sculpture du temple de Zeus au début de la période classique, qui met celle-ci en perspective avec l’histoire mythique de la cité d’Élis, et plus largement avec les représentations du monde grec au Ve s. avant notre ère].

LANÉRÈS Nicole, « La notion d’ἄγαλμα dans les inscriptions grecques, des origines à la fin du classicisme », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 135–171. LATIFSES Ajda, « Ruse divine de Dionysos et construction du drame à Mèchanèma dans les Bacchantes d’Euripide », Lalies 33 (2013), p. 291–304 [la mise en scène dramaturgique de la ruse de Dionysos dans cette tragédie s’écarte des ruses traditionnelles du fait de sa nature divine, son caractère imprévisible et polymorphe]. LINCOLN Bruce, « Oaths, Vows, and the Gods : Religious Attempts to Stabilize Language », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 9–20. LÓPEZ-RUIZ Carolina, « Sacrifice and the City: Administration and Religion in the Eastern Mediterranean Bronze Age », Asdiwal 8 (2013), p. 59–82 [approche comparative entre les pratiques sacrificielles dans la Grèce mycénienne et l’Âge du Bronze levantin ; mise en évidence de l’importance, souvent sous-estimée, de ces pratiques à une époque avancée et de la responsabilité dans l’accomplissement de ces rituels des rois, dont la négligence pourrait avoir des conséquences sur la communauté entière]. LOWE Dunstan, « Herakles and Philoktetes (Palaiphatos 36) », Hermes 141 (2013), p. 355– 357 [brève note qui amende un passage de Palaiphatos à propos d’une maladie et guérison d’Héraclès : Φιλοίτης doit être corrigé par Φιλοκτήτης, ami d’Héraclès, dont la présence fait davantage sens]. MARTIN Michaël, « “Que la Colchidienne fasse bouillir le chaudron d’airain” : rôles et fonctions du chaudron de Médée », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 171–189 [le chaudron de Médée revêt des symboliques différentes dans ses diverses interventions : tantôt lieu de mélange, tantôt moyen par lequel s’opère un changement d’état, il pourrait également intervenir dans le cadre de rituels de légitimation de la fonction royale]. MASSA Francesco, « La guerre des vérités entre IIe et IIIe siècles : stratégies chrétiennes de représentation de la fiction païenne », Pallas 91 (2013), p. 121–134 [analyse du discours chrétien visant à présenter les récits mythiques et pratiques rituelles gréco-romains comme “faux”, par contraste avec la vérité du message chrétien]. MATSUMOTO Mallory, « Divine Intervention: Invocations of Deities in Personal Correspondence from Graeco-Roman Egypt », CW 106 (2013), p. 645–663 [sur base d’une étude des lettres privées conservées sur papyrus et ostraca du IIIe s. av. J.-C. au milieu du IVe s. ap. J.-C., l’A. suggère que l’identité des divinités invoquées ne répond pas à une piété personnelle, mais est une donnée variable en fonction du lieu et des circonstances de l’auteur]. MEYER Elizabeth A., « Inscriptions as Honors and the Athenian Epigraphic Habit », Historia 62 (2013), p. 453–505 [l’habitus épigraphique athénien à la période classique doit notamment sa spécificité à la fonction revêtue par les inscriptions comme marque d’honneur envers les dieux]. MOORE Mary B., « The Princeton Painter, Athena and Poseidon », AK 56 (2013), p. 26–36 [attribue au Peintre de Princeton les fragments d’une amphore attique à figures noires (c. 540 av. J.-C.), représentant Athéna sur la face A, et, sur la face B, la scène suivant la

Kernos, 27 | 2014 498

dispute d’Athéna et de Poséidon pour la possession de l’Attique, dont le vase constituerait la représentation la plus ancienne]. MÜLLER Christel, PROST Francis, « Un décret du koinon des Ioniens trouvé à Claros », Chiron 43 (2013), p. 93–126 [publication et commentaire d’une inscription comprenant la réponse du koinon des Ioniens aux Colophoniens à propos de la restauration de la panégyrie et des concours en l’honneur d’Apollon Claros]. MÜLLER Frank, « Usages sournois du don et objets mortifères chez Sophocle », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 251–278 [analyse des symboliques attachées aux dons à travers plusieurs exemples issus de tragédies de Sophocle : don de l’épée dans l’Ajax, du péplos dans les Trachiniennes, de l’urne dans l’Électre, de l’arc dans Philoctète]. NEILS Jenifer, « Salpinx, Snake, and Salamis. The Political Geography of the Pella Hydria », Hesperia 82 (2013), p. 595–613 [le joueur de salpinx dépeint sur une hydrie attique à figures rouges découverte à Pella et accompagné d’un serpent est identifié au héros Kychreus de Salamine ; cette identification permet de préciser la portée du message véhiculé par ce vase]. NIEMEIER Wolf-Dietrich, MANIATIS Yannis, « Der ‘Heilige Baum’ und Kultkontinuität im Heraion von Samos », MDAI (A) 125 (2010), p. 99–117 [les recherches autour de l’arbre sacré dans l’Héraion de Samos indiquent qu’il s’agissait non pas d’un arbre qui aurait grandi à cet endroit, mais plutôt d’une souche placée au centre du sanctuaire comme un marqueur cultuel ; les fouilles à l’emplacement de l’arbre ont révélé de la céramique indiquant l’origine minoenne du sanctuaire]. NIETO IZQUIERDO Enrique, « IG IV2.1, 141: a New Interpretation », ZPE 186 (2013), p. 176– 180 [tentative de lecture de cette dédicace qui serait émise par des magistrats (emphrouroi) ; le nom ἄνφοξυν, hapax, ne serait pas une épiclèse d’Athéna, comme cela a été suggéré, mais plutôt l’objet de la dédicace]. PELLIZER Ezio, « La kíbisis di Perseo : brevi riflessioni narratologiche », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 81–93 [analyse de la fonction de la bourse de Persée à l’aune de la relation émetteur- destinataire et de la communication d’objets tels que conceptualisés dans les théories du récit]. PETIT Thierry, « The Sphinx on the Roof: the Meaning of the Greek Temple Acroteria », ABSA 108 (2013), p. 201–234 [la présence de sphinx en combinaison avec des motifs végétaux dans l’architecture des temples est mise en relation avec le thème iconographique levantin des chérubins gardant l’arbre de la vie, parvenu en Égée via l’île de Chypre ; une association similaire des sphinx avec d’autres figures telles que des cavaliers, des gorgones ou Nikè confirmerait cette signification d’ordre eschatologique]. PETRILLI Aurore, « Le trésor du dragon : pomme ou mouton ? », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 133–154 [mise en parallèle du mythe des pommes d’or du jardin des Hespérides et du vol de la Toison d’or par Jason ; parmi les similitudes observées, les deux objets, pommes et toison, revêtent une signification symbolique identique]. PICCININI Jessica, « Rethinking Epirote Religion. A Survey of Recent Scholarship on Epirote Cults and Sanctuaries », ASAA 90 (2012), p. 318–326. PICCININI Jessica, « A Forgotten Votive Plaque from Dodona: a Brief Addendum to P.A. Hansen, Carmina Epigraphica Graeca », ZPE 187 (2013), p. 69–71 [la dédicace par un

Kernos, 27 | 2014 499

Chypriote d’un instrument de musique fait référence aux concours panhelléniques qui devaient s’exercer dans le sanctuaire de Zeus à Dodone]. PIRENNE-DELFORGE Vinciane, PIRONTI Gabriella, « Ilithyie au travail : de la mère à l’enfant », Métis 11 (2013), p. 71–91 [met en évidence la complexité des prérogatives d’Ilithyie, dont la compétence ne se limite pas à l’accouchement, mais se prolonge au-delà, et envisage les associations divines qui entourent la déesse (Artémis, les Moires, et Héra)]. PLATZ-HORSTER Gertrud, « Herakles in Brabant. Die Amethyst-Gemme aus Sint- Oedenrode », BABesch 88 (2013), p. 191–203 [découverte en 2009 d’une gemme hellénistique représentant une tête d’Héraclès inspirée d’un type de statue comme l’Héraclès de Lansdowne ; le diadème en laurier sur la tête du héros indique une assimilation avec un souverain]. PLICHON Caroline, « Sous la peau de bête », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 155–170 [sur les diverses valeurs symboliques attachées à la dépouille animale, avec une analyse plus attentive de la Dolonie (Iliade X ; Euripide, Rhésos)]. POLINSKAYA Irene, « “Calling Upon Gods as Witnesses” in Ancient Greece », Mètis 10 (2012), p. 23–37 [le fait de prendre des dieux à témoin, bien que fonctionnant différemment du serment, n’est pas pour autant une parole dépourvue d’efficacité]. PRIGNITZ Sebastian, « Zur Identifizierung des Heiligtums von Kalapodi », ZPE 189 (2014), p. 133–146 [publication du dossier d’inscriptions découvertes lors des fouilles à Kalapodi et qui permettent l’identification du sanctuaire mis au jour avec le temple d’Apollon oraculaire d’Abai mentionné par Pausanias]. PUCCI Luca, « Oreste, Ifigenia dalla Tauride e la statua di Artemide Orthia », Métis 11 (2013), p. 265–287 [le passage de Pausanias sur le sanctuaire d’Artémis Orthia à Sparte rendrait compte d’une influence attique, qui s’inscrit dans une tendance de la cité à s’approprier des traditions mythiques extérieures ; dans ce cas, le phénomène daterait de la fin du Ve siècle et trouverait sa source dans l’Iphigénie en Tauride d’Euripide].

PUGLISI Dario, « Ritual Performances in Minoan Lustral Basins. New Observations on an old Hypothesis », ASAA 90 (2012), p. 199–211 [comparaison entre les bassines lustrales découvertes à Théra et en Crète au moyen d’une analyse architectonique ; reconstruction de pratiques rituelles autour de ces objets, qui sont interprétées comme rites de passage féminins]. RAPPOLD Adam, « The Stuff of Dream. An Aesopic Critique of Dream Interpretation », ARG 15 (2013), p. 83–96 [sur base d’un passage de la vie d’Ésope, mise en évidence d’une opposition entre croyance en une fonction divinatoire des rêves, propre à une élite culturelle, et scepticisme caractéristique d’une culture plus populaire]. REDFIELD James, « Dreams from Homer to Plato », ARG 15 (2013), p. 5–15 [discussion de l’évolution de la perception des rêves dans les sources littéraires]. RENBERG Gil H., « The Greek and Demotic Sources for the Career of Eirenaios Son of Nikias (Pros.Ptol. VI 14912/15262) », ZPE 188 (2014), p. 199–214 [comporte la réédition et un commentaire d’une dédicace pour Ptolémée VI et Cléopâtre II aux Megaloi Theoi ; un doute sur l’identité de ces divinités subsiste : il pourrait s’agir des Dioscures ou de divinités égyptiennes]. RIOUAL Gaëlle, « Pourquoi Hespéros ? Considérations sur les vers 7 à 17 de l’Hymne à Déméter de Callimaque », AC 82 (2013), p. 11–27 [le rôle tenu par Hespéros en tant

Kernos, 27 | 2014 500

qu’hôte de Déméter dans l’Hymne de Callimaque serait un procédé narratif de l’auteur visant à placer l’action en Libye et ainsi lier le mythe à la dynastie des Lagides].

ROLLINGER Robert, « Aiolos, Odysseus und der ΑΣΚΟΣ », Hermes 142 (2014), p. 1–14 [l’askos, cadeau d’Éole à Ulysse dans l’Odyssée, trouverait sa source dans un objet originaire du Proche-Orient : une peau enflée utilisée pour traverser les cours d’eau]. ROMANO MARTÍN Sandra, « Banqueting Gods in Valerius Flaccus Arg. 5.690–5 », Mnemosyne 66 (2013), p. 666–681 [en reprenant le thème du banquet des dieux, Valerius Flaccus s’écarte du modèle épique latin et s’inspire directement de la tradition grecque et de l’épopée homérique]. ROPARS Jean-Michel, « Hypnos et Héphaistos : le cerveau rêvant et le créateur », BAGB (2013), p. 145–171 [comparaison des deux figures divines]. ROUSSET Denis, « Sacred Property and Public Property in the Greek City », JHS 133 (2013), p. 113–133 [commente une série de textes épigraphiques où les terres sont définies comme à la fois “sacrées” et “publiques”, montrant ainsi que la frontière entre les deux domaines n’est pas toujours aussi étanche qu’on a voulu le croire]. SALVO Irene, « Ristabilimento della pace civica e riti di purificazione a Dikaia », ASNP 4 (2012), p. 89–102 [la prononciation de serments et l’accomplissement de rites purificatoires permet de consolider le processus de paix après une guerre civile]. SAUGE André, « Du safran pour Artémis », Asdiwal 8 (2013), p. 99–109 [relecture d’un passage d’Aristophane visant à éclairer la signification de l’arkteia ; la mention de teinture de safran est interprétée comme une métaphore signifiant le sang menstruel]. SCHIRRIPA Paola, « Tucidide “creatore di miti” (2, 14–16). Teseo tra crisi eroica e reinvenzione politica », ASAA 90 (2012), p. 119–135 [relecture des chapitres de Thucydide consacrés à Thésée, qui, à travers une re-contextualisation au sein de l’œuvre, met en évidence les difficultés inhérentes à la fondation de la polis]. SEBO Heather, « Strife and Starvation: Euripides’ Helen », Arethusa 47 (2014), p. 144–168 [mise en parallèle de deux thèmes développés dans cette tragédie, la guerre et la famine, qui soulignent le contraste entre volonté divine et ignorance humaine]. SELS Nadia, « Ambiguity and Mythic Imagery in Homer: Rhesus’ Lethal Nightmare », CW 106 (2013), p. 555–570 [discussion des représentations mythiques des songes et de l’ambiguïté qu’ils entretiennent avec la réalité et la mort dans l’épopée homérique, afin d’élucider des vers controversés dans l’épisode de la mort de Rhésos]. SFORZA Ilaria, « L’eroe affidato alle acque: valenze dell’arca dall’epica al mito », Gaia 16 (2013), p. 211–228 [analyse du terme larnax et des diverses significations de l’arche, attachée à la survie des héros, dans les mythes grecs]. SHARPE Heather F., « Bronze Statuettes from the Athenian Agora: Evidence for Domestic Cults in Roman Greece », Hesperia 83 (2014), p. 143–187 [deux dépôts de statuettes en bronze découverts sur l’agora d’Athènes et représentant des divinités grecques, romaines et égyptiennes, sont interprétés comme témoignages des cultes domestiques à Athènes à l’époque impériale romaine]. SMITH Tyler Jo, « Myth, Cult, and Performance: Sir John Soane’s Cawdor Vase », BICS 57 (2014), p. 96–123 [analyse de ce vase qui dépeint plusieurs moments du mythe de la course de Pélops contre Oinomaos].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 501

STEINER Deborah, « The Priority of Pots: Pandora’s pithos re-viewed », Métis 11 (2013), p. 211–238 [l’étude de la production et de la stylistique des pithoi à l’époque archaïque permet d’apporter un nouvel éclairage sur le mythe de Pandore raconté par Hésiode]. STOCKING Charles Heiko, « Genealogy, Gender, and Sacrifice in Hesiod’s Theogony », Métis 11 (2013), p. 183–210 [le sacrifice de Prométhée, re-contextualisé au sein de l’ensemble du poème et rapproché des fêtes des Apatouries, est interprété à l’aune d’une idéologie patriarcale]. STROCKA Volker Michael, « Die Athena-Marsyas-Gruppe des Myron in Stuck », AA (2013), p. 85–94 [réinterprète un relief d’Éphèse comme représentant le groupe d’Athéna et Marsyas de Myron de l’Acropole d’Athènes, contrairement aux interprétations précédentes qui y voyaient Dionysos et Aphrodite, Orphée et Eurydice, ou Mars et Vénus ; la scène, installée dans une salle de banquet, aurait eu pour fonction d’inviter les participants à la tempérance]. STROHMAIER Gotthard, « War Herakles ein Epileptiker? », LEC 80 (2012), p. 127–134 [l’expression “maladie héracléenne” pour désigner l’épilepsie trouverait son origine dans les récits mythiques attachés au dieu phénicien Melqart]. STRUCK Peter, « Plato and Divination », ARG 15 (2013), p. 17–34 [Platon rapproche la divination d’une forme d’intuition]. SZIDAT Sabine, « Diopetes oder Endoios? Zum Kultbild der Artemis in Ephesos », JDAI 127–128 (2012–2013), p. 1–50 [un passage des Actes 19, 35 a été classé à tort parmi les témoignages concernant la statue de culte d’Artémis à Éphèse, en raison d’une mauvaise interprétation du nom διοπετής : plutôt que “statue tombée du ciel”, le mot signifierait “César” ; commentaire sur l’apparence de la statue, figure féminine assise et vêtue d’un manteau]. TAGLIABUE A., « Thrason’s work in the Ephesian Artemision: an Artistic Inspiration for Xenophon of Ephesus’ Ephesiaca », Hermes 141 (2013), p. 363–377 [la présence de Pénélope et d’Euryclée dans ce roman trouve son inspiration non seulement dans l’épopée homérique, mais également dans la statuaire du sanctuaire d’Artémis à Éphèse, qui accueillait, selon Strabon, un groupe sculpté par Thrason représentant ces deux figures]. TASAKLAKI Marina, KOUTSOUMANIS Matthaios, « Συμβολὴ στὴν μελέτη τῆς νομισματοκοπίας τῆς Πλωτινοπόλεως· ἕνας νέος εἰκονογραφικὸς τύπος », Tekmeria 11 (2012), p. 17–36 [un octassarion en bronze de l’époque de Caracalla atteste le motif iconographique de l’enlèvement de Korè par Hadès pour la première fois en province romaine de Thrace ; les parallèles, provenant d’Asie mineure, semblent faire écho à un lieu de culte de Pluton attesté dans la région]. TÖPFER Kai M., « Amphiaraos als paradigmatischer Held im klassischen Athen », MDAI (A) 125 (2010), p. 199–219 [étudie la manière dont les représentations de la figure d’Amphiaraos dans la céramique attique l’érigent en modèle pour les Athéniens du Ve s.]. USTINOVA Yulia, « To live with Joy and die with Hope: Experiential Aspects of Ancient Greek Mystery Rites », BICS 56 (2013), p. 105–123 [les cultes à mystères sont abordés du point de vue de l’expérience personnelle des initiés, par une approche neuropsychologique qui place au centre de l’expérience l’état altéré de conscience].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 502

VAN DER HORST Pieter W., « The Omen of Sneezing », AncSoc 43 (2013), p. 213–221 [étude de la valeur mantique de l’éternuement, perçu comme un signe envoyé par les dieux, en Grèce et à Rome]. VAN RIEL Gerd, « De privé-god van Socrates », Lampas 47 (2014), p. 17–29 [sur la religiosité de Socrate et les raisons qui ont mené à sa condamnation : le caractère personnel de son daimon aurait été perçu comme blasphématoire, tandis que selon Platon il est présenté comme une marque de piété]. VEYMIERS Richard, « Sarapis et Neôtera élus parmi les dieux », RA 57 (2014), p. 37–56 [nouvel examen d’une plaquette en bronze appartenant à un bracelet et représentant une assemblée de 28 divinités, séparées en 2 registres, accompagnée de deux acclamations pour Sarapis et Néôtera ; ces deux divinités apparaissent chacune au centre d’un registre, entourées de leur panthéon]. VLASSOPOULOU Christina, « La double offrande de Lysias et Évarchis recomposée au musée de l’acropole », BCH 135 (2011), p. 119–135 [analyse stylistique d’un groupe statuaire composé de deux Korè de moyenne et petite tailles, dont la base atteste une double offrande de Lysias, en guise d’aparchè, et d’Évarchis, en guise de dekatè ; l’objet témoignerait du processus de “démocratisation” de la consécration d’offrande sur l’Acropole d’Athènes à la fin du VIe s.].

WAMSER-KRASZNAI Waltrud, « Wie man sich bettet… Lager und Lagern in antiken Heil- Heiligtümern », LEC 80 (2012), p. 55–72 [mise au point, à travers les sources littéraires et archéologiques, sur les aspects pratiques de l’incubation et sur l’équipement des sanctuaires à cette fin]. WIJMA Sara M., « The “Others” in a lex sacra from the Attic Deme Phrearrhioi (SEG 35.113) », ZPE 187 (2013), p. 199–205 [l’ouverture de rites de type éleusiniens pratiqués par les habitants du dème des Phrearrhioi à d’autres participants doit être envisagée par le biais de la question des dynamiques de la religion des dèmes et de la polis ; cette ouverture permet notamment au dème d’affirmer une identité “supra-régionale”]. YATES David, « The Persian War as Civil War in Plataea’s Temple of Athena Areia », Klio 95 (2013), p. 369–390 [les divergences dans le processus de commémoration des guerres médiques selon les différentes cités auraient été plus profondes que ce qui est généralement postulé ; le cas de Platées est abordé, où le programme architectural du temple d’Athéna Areia présente l’évènement comme une guerre civile entre les cités grecques, une vision qui contraste fortement avec celle d’Athènes qui y voit une victoire contre l’envahisseur barbare]. ZISKOWSKI Angela, « The Bellerophon Myth in Early Corinthian History and Art », Hesperia 83 (2014), p. 81–102 [analyse de l’évolution du mythe de Bellérophon dans la Corinthe archaïque ; alors qu’au VIIe s. le mythe est intimement lié à l’identité ancestrale et territoriale de la cité, il entrera en concurrence à partir du VIe s. avec celui d’Héraclès dont la portée est davantage panhellénique].

Kernos, 27 | 2014 503

AUTEUR

STÉPHANIE PAUL F.R.S.-FNRS – Université de Liège

Kernos, 27 | 2014