F is for Fabulae

Well, F isn’t a Greek letter, so I toyed around with writing about the English name for some Greek concepts (groups?) like the Fates (Moirai) or the Furies (Erinyes), or using a name starting with phi, the nearest equivalent of F, but then I thought of the Fabulae while I was working on B is for Bellerophon (on account of the magnificent Etruscan bronze of the Chimera on the cover of my copy) and decided to switch things up a little here.

So, instead of talking about a character from a myth, I’m going to talk about the Fabulae, a work by the Roman mythographer Hyginus.  A mythographer, for those who don’t know, is someone who writes myths down.  They don’t write the myths–technically, no one writes a proper myth–and they don’t alter them in any way, they just write them down, preserving and compiling them.  I pretty much only ended up with a copy of the Fabulae by accident, because it was in the same book as the much more famous and highly regarded Library of Apollodorus.  (Or, more accurately, the Library attributed to Apollodorus.  Its actual author is unknown.)  Apollodorus is a go-to text if you want to get the biggest possible picture of the Greek myths in the smallest possible package of authentic, ancient text, despite that the tail end of the Library is lost, and we have only an epitome for final sections, including the Trojan War.  Hyginus, on the other hand, is not so often consulted.

And why is that?  Well, while we have no firm dates for either work, the Library is Hellenistic (and written in Greek) and the Fabulae is Roman (and written in Latin).  Furthermore, the Library goes into greater detail, and exists in a more complete fashion.  Perhaps the most important part is that as the Fabulae was in Latin, all those Medieval scholars could read it and re-copy it and introduce their own changes–whether intentional or accidental–and thus, as the translators said in the introduction of the copy I have, “the collection of myths we possess under the name Fabulae is likely so far removed from the author’s original that, we suspect, he would have scarcely recognized it as his own.”  (Page xlii.  If you’re interested in checking it out, btw, you can find the book here.)

We don’t, honestly, know exactly who wrote it, or when, either.  (Though the same can be said of the Library.)  There was a freedman in the service of Augustus Caesar named Hyginus, and it has in the past often been assumed that he was the author, but–while possible–it isn’t a certain thing.  (The author of the Fabulae, whoever he was, was definitely familiar with Ovid’s work, which may have led to the association with the freedman Hyginus, who was a known associate of Ovid himself.  However, for the sake of composing the Fabulae, simply knowing Ovid’s works would be sufficient, and those have remained well-known and well-read pretty much ever since they were first written.  Though only in a bowdlerized version during the Middle Ages and early Renaissance…)  The Fabulae was referenced about AD 200 as something that was “famous,” though, so it was probably written at least a few decades before then, and most likely earlier than that.

But what is the Fabulae, you ask?  It’s a collection of myths, not so much intended as light reading to tell people the stories, but as a reference book for poets and other authors so they can get names straight and get all the details of the various tales right.  (By the Roman imperial period, they would have been expected not only to know all the major works of Greek and Roman literature, but also several centuries of Roman history, as well as major events in Greek history like the Persian Wars, the Peloponnesian War and the conquests of Alexander the Great.  So it’s hardly surprising that they might want some help with the more obscure names. )

Some of the Fabulae is what you’d expect, and what you get from the Library:  brief encapsulations of the myths, with all the major events told, albeit in a sentence–or a mere clause–apiece.  But in the Fabulae you also get lists.

Just plain lists.

That’s what I love about it.

And, although it’s not Wednesday, I’m going to quote some of them now.  First, one of the earlier lists, that’s still in the “trying to tell the stories” part.  (Obviously, since this is from a Latin source, all the names have the Roman spellings.)  This list is about the Trojan War, btw.  Though I’m sure you’d have caught on to that almost immediately anyway…

112 Challengers and Participants in Fights  Menelaus vs. Alexander:  Venus rescued Alexander.
Diomedes vs. Aeneas:  Venus saved Aeneas.
The same vs. Glaucus:  they withdrew after they realized they had ties of hospitality.
The same vs. Pandarus and a different Glaucus:  Pandarus and Glaucus were killed.
Ajax vs. Hector:  they withdrew, giving gifts to each other.  Ajax gave Hector the war-belt by which he was dragged, and Hector gave Ajax the sword with which he committed suicide.
Patroclus vs. Sarpedon:  Sarpedon was killed.
Menelaus vs. Euphorbus:  Euphorbus was killed but later he became Pythagoras and remembered that his soul had passed into different bodies.
Achilles vs. Asteropaeus:  Asteropaeus was killed.
The same vs. Hector:  Hector was killed.
The same vs. Aeneas:  Aeneas was put to flight.
The same vs. Agenor:  Apollo saved Agenor.
The same vs. the Amazon Penthesilea, the daughter of Mars and Otrera:  Penthesilea was killed.
Antilochus vs. Memnon:  Antilochus was killed.
Achilles vs. Memnon:  Memnon was killed.
Philoctetes vs. Alexander:  Alexander was killed.
Neoptolemus vs. Eurypylus:  Eurypylus was killed.

Notice how there’s only one Greek death on there?  I’m not sure why he skipped over various other Greek deaths, like that of Patroclos or Tlepolemos.  (I get leaving out Achilles’ death, considering there wasn’t a proper fight.)  The next section, “The Deaths of Illustrious Men and Their Killers” added Achilles’ death, still left out Patroclos, and changed Antilochos’ killer from Memnon to Hector.  Which, now that I think about it, is probably cited by those eager to prove that before he was Patroclos’ eromenos in the Homeric tradition, Achilles was previously known as Antilochos’ erastes, and thus Hyginus accidentally fused the two conflicting versions, changing which lover got slain by Hector.  That fits with the kind of errors made by other Romans compiling these sorts of things.

Oh, btw, the bit about Euphorbos (the man who stabbed Patroclos in the back after his armor fell off, but was still scared of him and ran away to leave Hector to finish him) later being reincarnated as Pythagoras?  Allegedly, Pythagoras really made that claim.  Though none of his writings survive, so we have to take the word of later writers.  Ovid devoted a chunk of time to that in the Metamorphoses, though.

Anyway, I want to quote the section after that now.

114  How Many Each Achaean Killed  Achilles, 72.  Antilochus, 2.  Protesilaus, 4.  Peneleus, 2.  Eurypylus, 1.  Ajax son of Oileus, 24.  Thoas, 2.  Leitus, 20.  Thrasymedes, 2.  Agamemnon, 16.  Diomedes, 18.  Menelaus, 8.  Philoctetes, 3.  Meriones, 7.  Ulysses, 12.  Idomeneus, 13.  Leonteus, 5.  Ajax son of Telamon, 28.  Patroclus, 53.  Polypoetes, 1.  Teucer, 30.  Neoptolemus, 6.  The number totals 362.

I hope he means how many they killed in the course of works of literature, not how many he thinks they killed across ten years of war.  ‘Cause, uh, if so, they spent a very, very, very long time not fighting.  (The translators note that the total is not 362, but 329, btw.)  Mainly, I wanted to quote this for two reasons.  1)  Patroclos has the second highest total.  Because Patroclos is awesome.  (Have I mentioned yet that I’m a Patroclos fan-girl?)  2)  Teukros, archer and half-Trojan, half-brother of Aias of Salamis (aka Ajax son of Telamon), on this list has more kills than his brother, despite that his brother is supposed to be the second greatest warrior in the Achaian forces, only barely outmatched by Achilles.  I love the crazy disparity there.  (BTW, the Eurypylus on this list is not the same one killed by Neoptolemos on the earlier list.  This one is a…I think he’s one of Diomedes’ Argives, but I’d have to look it up to be sure.  The one Neoptolemos killed was the son of Telephos of Teuthrania, son of Heracles.  Yet, despite his descent from Heracles, enemy of Troy, that Eurypylos was a Trojan ally.)  The next section of the Fabulae, btw, is how many men each Trojan killed, and the highest numbers are Hector’s 31 and Aineias’ 28.  They’re the only ones who made it above 4.  (Seriously!)

On the lists of children of the gods, I find it amusing the first one he lists under “Mercury” is Priapus, rather than, say, Autolycos (who isn’t even on the surviving list) or Hermaphroditus (ditto).  And on the list of Apollo’s children, the surviving text says that Apollo, the god, was the father of the playwright Euripides.  Though the translators note that probably there’s missing text so that he was actually going to say that “Euripides said that” and then go into a variant parentage for Asclepius.  (I like the idea that a Greek playwright was accorded divine parentage by the Romans, though.  That’s freakin’ awesome.)

But what I really wanted to quote were some of the lists that seem to be compiled purely for the aid of poets/playwrights looking for just the right name to wow their audiences with their esoteric knowledge:

246 Those Who Ate Their Own Sons at Meals  Tereus son of Mars:  Itys, his son by Procne.
Thyestes son of Pelops:  Tantalus and Plisthenes, his sons by Aerope.
Clymenus son of Schoeneus:  his son by his daughter, Harpalyce.

247 Those Who Were Devoured by Dogs  Actaeon son of Aristaeus
On the island of Delos, Thasius son of Apollo’s priest Anius; this is why there are no dogs on Delos.
Euripides the writer of tragedies was devoured in a temple.

And there are several other lists like that in that area; people killed by boars, chariots that caused the deaths of their riders, deadly torches, people who committed incest, all sorts of things.  But this is one of my favorites:

270  Especially Handsome Men  Iasion son of Corythus; the story goes that Ceres loved him, and this very fact is given credence in the histories.
Cinyras son of Paphus, the Assyrian king.
Anchises son of Assaracus, whom Venus loved.
Alexander Paris, the son of Priam and Hecuba, whom Helen accompanied.
Nireus son of Charops.
Cephalus son of Pandion, whom Aurora loved.
Tithonus, the son of Laomedon, who was Aurora’s husband.
Parthenopaeus, the son of Meleager and Atalanta.
Achilles, the son of Peleus and Thetis.
Patroclus son of Menoetius.
Idomeneus, who loved Helen.
Theseus, the son of Aegeus and Aethra, whom Ariadne loved.

You can probably guess why I love that one!  But of course Patroclos was handsome if the most beautiful man in the Achaian forces was in love with him!

Ahem.

Yes, calming down now.

I find the inclusion of of Idomeneus on this list somewhat surprising.  It’s sort of out of nowhere, you know?  He’s not among the men described by Helen on the wall (and every single one of those men is described as handsome, except for Odysseus, with Aias coming off as the most handsome of them, yet he’s not on this list).  And describing him as loving Helen also seems odd.  Yes, he was one of her suitors, but he–like the rest of them–married another woman after she married Menelaos and seemed perfectly content with her in that he fathered kids on her.  (Well, how else are we gonna tell?)  I’m guessing there must have been some Roman work well known at the time this list was composed in which Idomeneus was a tragic, romantic lead, doomed by his unrequited love or something.  The following section is “Especially Handsome Teenagers” which has the usual assortment of boys known for being some man’s eromenos (Ganymede, Hyacinthos, Hylas) but also has some one would usually think of as being grown men (Adonis, Endymion, Narcissus, Hermaphroditus) and it also confuses Theseus with Laius.  Quite the mistake!  But it’s talking about Laius’ abduction of the beautiful son of Pelops, and Theseus was known for abducting an underage Helen, so that’s probably where the confusion came from.  Somehow.

Anyway, long story short, I find the Fabulae–for all the flaws in the text–to be well worth the time it takes to have a look at the book.  Again, the copy I have includes the Library of Apollodorus, and you can get it on Amazon.  (And probably other places, just as easily.  But this is the link I have for it.)  Oh, and since I spent so long quoting from it, I should probably give direct credit to the translators R. Scott Smith and Stephen M. Trzaskoma here, instead of just by way of the “go buy it” plug.  So, there’s the direct credit.