When a literal reading of spatial geography is applied to the Homeric poems, the narrative quickly descends into chaos: the audience is presented with a jumbled mess of spatial and geographical contradictions that simply cannot exist in a physical reality. As a case in point, consider one of the more infamous instances of this issue: Hades’ localisation in the Odyssey. The epic's vision of Hades presents the realm of the dead as both a subterranean and superterranean locale at different points in the narrative.Footnote 1 Due to the discordant nature of such inconsistencies, these spatial contradictions tend (at least historically so) to be identified as the result of interpolation and thus ‘questionable’ passages are excised from the text.Footnote 2 But this need not be so: recent scholarship has recognised that spatial anomalies can result from the general fluidity of landscape creation in service to particular narrative demands from the act of poetic construction.Footnote 3 Within such a framework, epic topography can be read as hyperspatial and hyperphysical, resolving spatial inconsistences without requiring excisions to occur. To be clear, this is not to suggest that topographical inconsistencies be glossed over – far from it. Instead, the presence of such ‘contradictions’ can be accounted for via a deeper layer of meaning: meaning which is not strictly spatial in a this world-physical sense but is driven by a concern for narrative/thematic priority.Footnote 4
This paper seeks to further the study of epic topography's fluidity by considering a particular expression of dual localisation (whereby a single place might be located in two distinct spaces).Footnote 5 While there are many such instances within Homeric epic,Footnote 6 this paper has chosen a singular case study: Iliadic Tartarus. In doing so, this paper presents a novel hypothesis for consideration: the geographical descriptions of Tartarus in Books 8 and 14 present Tartarus as a fluid, liminal space by including alternative, superterranean imagery alongside its traditional subterranean localisation. The presence of these fluid topographies can be accounted for via a narrative/thematic reading of the text. Consequently, by removing the need for a strictly physical-spatial understanding of geography, a larger thesis is affirmed: descriptions of landscape can, in the hands of a skilled poet, serve as a tool to emphasise particular thematic or conceptual concerns and thus a more fluid understanding of spatiality must be brought to bear on such texts.Footnote 7
It must be acknowledged that this claim of a fluid, dual localisation is far from uncontroversial. The majority of scholarship has read the Iliad as presenting a singular and unified vision of Tartarus – i.e., as exclusively subterranean – including relatively recent work by Kirk, Albinus, and Wilson.Footnote 8 Yet, a minority has questioned this exclusivity of place: for example, Bowra specifically identifies Iliad 8.16 and 8.480 as providing contradictory localisations for Tartarus while, more recently, Jouanna has identified ‘ambiguous passages that may contradict the subterranean location of Tartarus in the Iliad’.Footnote 9 This paper builds upon such precedents in two significant ways: first, by providing a detailed reading of this ambiguous/contradictory material, in particular the presence of the superterranean imagery; and, second, rather than dismissing out of hand the issues that such duality raises – for example, Bowra was content to simply state that Homer ‘was not concerned with exactitude in such matters’Footnote 10 – to demonstrate how geographical fluidity is of narrative significance.
1. Iliad 8.1–27: Subterranean Tartarus and the Theme of Zeus’ Superiority
Iliad 8 provides the first extended description of Tartarus, its nature, and its locality. At the book's opening Zeus threatens the other Olympians in order to ensure that they adhere to his divine decree and do not interfere in the battle for Troy, outlining two potential consequences for those who dare to defy him (Il. 8.1–27). The first punishment is to be struck by lightning after which the offender, albeit in rather poor condition (οὐ κατὰ κόσμον), may return to Olympus (8.12).Footnote 11 The second fate, by comparison, is far worse:
Or I will grab hold of the culprit and throw them into murky Tartarus – far, far away – where the deep pit below the earth is located. That is the site of the gates of iron and the threshold of iron. It is as far below Hades as the heavens are distant from the earth.
The localisation presented here is unambiguously subterranean: Tartarus is explicitly described as below the earth (8.14: ὑπὸ χθονός) and even below Hades (8.16: τόσσον ἔνɛρθ’ Ἀίδɛω). Considering the equally clear subterranean localisation for Hades provided later in Book 20 (Il. 20.61–5) and given that this Tartarean localisation matches the Hesiodic description of the cosmos (according to which a bronze anvil would take ten days to fall from the sky to earth and then another ten from earth to Tartarus, Theog. 721–5), this vertical structuring of the cosmos has been understood to reflect a ‘typical’ archaic worldview and cosmology:Footnote 12 Tartarus is beneath Hades and earth; οὐρανός is above earth; and the distance between Tartarus and Hades is equidistant to that which separates earth and οὐρανός.
This picture of a vertical, hierarchical cosmos continues throughout the remainder of Zeus’ speech of which the above threats form the first half (Il. 8.7–17; cf. 8.18–27). While part one presents a sanguine attempt by Zeus to dissuade the other gods from challenging his wishes, the second part presents Zeus as a cynical figure against whom the other Olympians are an opposing force to be overcome.Footnote 13 Like its antecedent, this latter half utilises geographical imagery for rhetorical effect, retaining the hierarchical presentation of the cosmos albeit excluding any direct mention of Tartarus and is similarly focused on the theme of Zeus’ power. This theme is evident throughout both halves of Zeus’ speech since the god concludes each section by proclaiming himself to be ‘the strongest by far’ and ‘greatest of all the gods’ (8.17, 8.27), a boast which Athena confirms when she subsequently addresses her father as the ‘highest of lords’ (8.31: ὕπατɛ κρɛιόντων) and acknowledges his ‘irresistible might’ (8.32: τοι σθένος οὐκ ἐπιɛικτόν).
There is a clear relationship throughout the Iliad between powerful individuals and spatial height. In a general sense, height connotes regal power: for example, Mackie notes that the location of the houses of Priam and his family on the citadel of Pergamus is indicative of their social standing as the ruling family of Troy.Footnote 14 Further, of particular relevance to the divine sphere, the notion of ‘falling’ from the heavens equates to a quasi-death state for immortal beings within which the gods can be understood to ‘lose’ their immortality.Footnote 15 Thus, the act of throwing gods from extreme heights is a ‘favourite punishment’ of Zeus, one which comes to define Zeus’ superiority since he alone cannot be ‘pulled down’ towards the mortal condition.Footnote 16 This depiction of Zeus’ superiority is consistent with the Iliad's narrative concern in examining the relationship between Zeus’ divine providence and the events of the Trojan War (e.g., 1.524–7).Footnote 17 Thus, in the context of 8.13–16, the cosmic (geographic) and divine hierarchies serve as parallel images of this main theme: Tartarus is the domain of those at the lowest rung of the divine hierarchy (i.e., those who oppose the will of Zeus) and it is likewise located at the lowest point of cosmic-geographic hierarchy.
2. Iliad 8.477–83: Superterranean Possibilities and a Thematic Shift
Later in Book 8 Tartarus is referenced again but, alongside the expected, traditional subterranean material, this description includes alternative imagery connoting a localisation at the horizontal edges of the earth. When Zeus confronts Hera – who has been plotting to assist the Greeks in blatant disregard of his earlier warning (Il. 8.350–437) – he describes Tartarus via very different spatial language:
I am not concerned with your anger, not even if you were to go to the most extreme edges of the earth and sea. That is where Iapetus and Cronus are, sitting frivolously, unable to enjoy the light of the sun, nor the wind. Instead, deep Tartarus surrounds them. Even if you go there on your wanderings, I am not concerned with your anger…
While notably still ‘deep’ (481: βαθύς; cf. 414: βαθίστον), Tartarus's localisation is accounted for via its spatial relationship with the figures Iapetus (the father of Prometheus) and Cronus (the father of Zeus) whom Tartarus surrounds (481: ἀμφίς). These figures, in turn, are described as being located at τὰ νɛίατα πɛίρατα (‘the most extreme boundaries’) of γαῖα and πόντος (‘land’ and ‘sea’). With πɛίρατα γαίης serving as a common formula to identify the ‘boundaries of earth/land’ and given that πɛῖραρ is itself ‘a particularly complex indicator of edge-space’ with a multiplicity of physical and conceptual applications,Footnote 18 this phrasing becomes an important aspect for any reading of Tartarus’ present localisation.
2.1. Locating Tartarus’ Superterranean Connotations
Scholarship favouring an exclusively subterranean Iliadic Tartarus presents a very specific reading of the phrase τὰ νɛίατα πɛίρατα… γαίης καὶ πόντοιο that must be addressed before moving forward with our thesis of fluidity. Such traditional readings interpret Iliad 8 (notably as a single unit, rather than two distinct descriptions) via the external text of Hesiod's Theogony. For example, according to Kirk, πόντος reveals an intertextual link with the springs and boundaries found in Hesiod's subterranean Tartarus (Theog. 736–9, 807–10) and thus ‘the addition of καὶ πόντοιο shows that νɛίατα, after all, has its strict sense of “lowest”’.Footnote 19 Albinus pushes this conclusion further, stating ‘[this] instance so closely reflect[s] the instances in Hesiod that one cannot help thinking of the possibility of interpolation in the Homeric case’, and thus since Hesiod is most clearly subterranean Homer must follow suit.Footnote 20 On the one hand, this line of argumentation is correct in noting how certain aspects of the Iliadic description (especially 8.13–6) present Homeric Tartarus via language and concepts similar to that of the Hesiodic account. Consider, for example, the repetition of the adjective ‘murky’ (ἠɛρόɛντα: Hom. Il. 8.13, cf. Hes. Theog. 119, 682); the presence of the gates and threshold of iron (τɛ πύλαι καὶ χάλκɛος οὐδός: Hom. Il. 8.15≈Hes. Theog. 811); and the tripartite division of the universe into sky, earth and Hades/Tartarus (Hom. Il. 8.16≈Hes. Theog. 736–7 = 807–8). However, when these similarities are pushed further to suggest that subterranean imagery is consistently and exclusively utilised throughout Iliad 8 several issues arise.
First, strict intertextuality is only one possible explanation for these texts' commonalities and thus the presence of shared material should not be taken to infer that both poems share an identical geographical paradigm. For example, the ‘sharing’ of topographical imagery between Homer and Hesiod can also be understood via Currie's notion of ‘connotative allusion’ rather than strict interpolation.Footnote 21 This framework allows for the acknowledgment of shared material while also leaving room for the Iliad to move beyond an exclusively subterranean presentation simply because that is what the ‘original’ text presents. Indeed, Purves’ examination of the Hesiodic-Homeric link concludes that ‘although Il. 8.15–16 closely parallels Hes. Th. 811 and 720, the Theogony is much more interested than the Iliad in constructing an underground geography’.Footnote 22 Thus, while the Theogony's subterranean Tartarus reflects a deliberate choice on the part of that poet, embodying narrative and eschatological themes specific to that particular poem, it should not be expected that these are to be adopted automatically by the poet of the Iliad.Footnote 23
Another issue with approaches that are focused on strict intertextuality is that, while the presence of Hesiodic material is strongly felt within the first Iliadic description of Tartarus (Il. 8.13–16), the second Iliadic description (8.477–81) is less firm in its use of Hesiodic material. For example, Kirk places much emphasis upon the inclusion of καὶ πόντοιο (Il. 8.479) for his rendering of the otherwise flexible term νɛίατα.Footnote 24 Yet, from a strict intertextual perspective, it should be noted that the Theogony pairs πόντος with οὐρανός (Theog. 737) while the Iliad pairs πόντος with γαία (Il. 8.479). Thus, while both works clearly utilise a shared tripartite model of the cosmos, differing emphases are placed on certain aspects of said model at this point in the poem: it is not a given, as Kirk and Albinus suggest, that Homer's vision of space is strictly following Hesiod's ‘version’ of the tripartite model.Footnote 25 This further undermines the notion of a strict intertextual relationship according to which the Iliadic Tartarus at 8.477–81 is to be identified as exclusively subterranean.
Finally, the most pressing issue against such lines of argumentation is that the Hesiodic presentation of Tartarus does not necessarily exclude superterranean imagery. Nakassis, following his identification of the co-existence of uni-polar and bi-polar models of sun-movement in Archaic epic, draws upon Bergren's study of πɛίραρ to conceive of Hesiod's Tartarus as both cosmologically central and yet also at the edges of the earth (Theog. 731: ἔσχατα γαίης).Footnote 26 Further, Nakassis’ study identifies not two but three potential threshold localisations within Hesiod's presentation of Tartarus, each located along a unique axis: the horizontal, the vertical, and the temporal.Footnote 27 Such a reading calls into question whether Iliadic Tartarus should be identified as exclusively subterranean due to its reliance upon/similarity to Hesiodic material since the localisation of the latter is itself fluid.Footnote 28
Putting intertextual arguments now to one side, there are numerous internal reasons for identifying superterranean connotations within the phrase τὰ νɛίατα πɛίρατα… γαίης καὶ πόντοιο (8.478–9), beginning with the modifier νɛίατα. While commonly translated as ‘lowest’ and thus relating to positioning along the vertical axis (i.e., a subterranean reading), νɛίατος contains a broad semantic range within Homeric poetry which includes the more generic sense of ‘furthest’.Footnote 29 Indeed, elsewhere within the Iliad, νɛίατος consistently possesses a sense of ‘horizontal bounds’, rather than vertical distance, when utilised in geographical descriptions.Footnote 30 Consider the following examples. The first geographical use of νɛίατος occurs in a description of Zeleia during the catalogue of ships (2.824–7). This city, from which Pandarus’ troops hail, is described as ὑπαὶ πόδα νɛίατον Ἴδης (2.824: ‘below the furthest foot of Mt. Ida’). The poet also locates this city via an association with the river Aesepus which suggests a position some 70 miles ENE from Troy which – even Kirk agrees – can only be considered a part of Mt. Ida ‘in a fairly loose sense’ (see fig. 1).Footnote 31 While this phrase might be translated as the ‘lowest foot of Mt. Ida’ – as per the translations of Murray and Wyatt and of KirkFootnote 32 – this use of νɛίατος is contextually superterranean since the poet is describing the extreme horizontal distance of the city in comparison to the mountain's location. The next geographical occurrence of νɛίατος is in reference to the seven cities which Agamemnon promised as a dowry for Achilles in his (failed) attempt to placate the hero: Cardamyle, Enope, Hire, Pherae, Antheia, Aepeia and Pedasus (9.149–54, 291–9). These cities are collectively described with the single hexameter line πᾶσαι δ’ ἐγγὺς ἁλός, νέαται Πύλου ἠμαθόɛντος (9.153 = 9.295: ‘All are near the sea, [at] the edges of Sandy Pylos’). It is hardly appropriate to translate νέαται here as ‘lowest’ for, as Hainsworth has noted, this would contradict the political geography of the region and thus ‘the word must signify “just beyond the borders of”’ – again, a superterranean/horizontal context.Footnote 33 This interpretive issue was known even during antiquity for the Alexandrians suggested that, instead of ‘lower’ which would make little sense, perhaps this particular inclusion of νέαται was to be read as the third person plural of the verb ναίω (in reference to place, ‘to be situated’; with a construction similar to κέαται < κɛῖμαι).Footnote 34 Again, this implies that during antiquity the passage was envisaged as connoting a horizontal context, rather than a vertical one, for otherwise there would be no interpretative issue for which a solution would be required. A final occurrence of νɛίατος appears in the description of the city of Thryoessa: τηλοῦ ἐπ’ Ἀλφɛιῷ, νέατη Πύλου ἠμαθόɛντος (11.712: ‘[it is] far away on the Alpheus [river], the edge of Sandy Pylos’). In addition to the above reasoning – for 9.153b = 9.295b≈11.712b – νɛίατος is here paired with the complementary adverb τηλοῦ (‘afar’) which is utilised elsewhere in reference to the ‘furthest’ ends of civilization on the horizontal plane.Footnote 35 Thus, these examples provide a strong internal precedent for reading τὰ νɛίατα πɛίρατα as indicating horizontal (superterranean) boundaries, rather than vertical (subterranean) ones.
Similarly, the combination of πɛίρατα with γαῖα and πόντος (‘the boundaries of land and sea’), rather than with πόντος with οὐρανός as in Hesiod (Theog. 737), contains echoes of the well-established tradition of localizing liminal superterranean space via bodies of water. Archaic poetry is full of spaces/places which are both identified as πɛίρατα γαίης and are located by, or near, water: Hesiod's Garden of the Hesperides (Theog. 335, 518) and Islands of the Blest (Op. 163); the Odyssey's Elysian plain (4.563); the shore where Dawn takes immortal Tithonus (Hom. Hymn Aph. 5.227); and fragments from both the Cypria (fr. 10 West) and Orphic poetry, notably describing where the sun leaps up from (fr. 238 Kern), pair Oceanus’ stream with πɛίρατα γαίης.Footnote 36 Indeed, such is the strength of this association that every Hesiodic example of the ‘ends of the earth’ is located on or near the ocean stream with Hesiodic Tartarus being the only exception to this ‘rule’.Footnote 37 Thus, it may also be of some significance that the Hesiodic terminology for Tartarus’ ‘ends of the earth’ is ἔσχατα γαίης (Theog. 731), rather than πɛίρατα.Footnote 38
Finally, the pairing of Cronus and Iapetus must also be considered for its connotative load, since it is these individuals’ presence upon which Tartarus’ localisation is hung. Beginning with the figure of Iapetus, there is little comparative material to go on given that he is quite a rare figure within the Greek mythic tradition and that the majority of his appearances in extant texts occur in genealogical accounts establishing Prometheus’ parentage.Footnote 39 Yet there are a small number of noteworthy spatial connections which highlight the Titan's spatial fluidity. First, there may be a connection between Iapetus and subterranean punishment via a potential etymology for his name as ‘the one hurled down’ (from ἰάπτɛιν) – but this issue remains equivocal.Footnote 40 More definitive is that, as a Titan, Iapetus shares a definitive (albeit generalised) connection both with Cronus – his brother and fellow Titan – and with Tartarus-the-prison since these elements consistently feature within tellings of the Titanomachy and the Titans’ failed revolt against Zeus which, in turn, are associated with negative, subterranean contexts.Footnote 41 Yet, while these associations affirm Tartarus’ subterranean localisation and may be considered the more traditional aspects of the two Titans’ characterisations, they do not represent the complete picture. In contrast, there is another specific instance of Iapetus and Cronus’ coupling within the opening invocation of Hesiod's Theogony (18) – the only other direct comparative of its kind in extant literature – which places the pair in a positive context divorced from any notion of punishment (subterranean or otherwise).Footnote 42 Furthermore, with regards to the figure of Cronus – for whom in comparison to all the other Titans there exists a wealth of mythic material and cultFootnote 43 – there are two recurrent spatial themes relating to horizontal edge-space: (1) an association with a sea/island at the western/northern edges of the earth (in some instances connected with banishment/punishment);Footnote 44 and, (2) an exclusively positive association with an ‘Isles of the Blest’ cum ‘Golden Age’/utopian setting and an accompanying ease of life which is overseen/ruled by Cronus at the (mythical) edges of the earth.Footnote 45
The concept of a peripheral Cronian sea/island is affiliated with various peoples and/or places (in both the ‘real’ and mythic worlds) which themselves have clear superterranean, liminal localisations. For example, in Apollonius of Rhodes’ Argonautica, the ‘Cronian sea’ (i.e., Κρονίης ἁλός: 4.327, 509, 548) is connected with the Colchian and Phaeacian peoples – both of whom have a long history of association with the horizontal periphery;Footnote 46 in Plutarch, the ‘island of Cronus’ is another name for Ogygia which has a similar history of liminality and is also localised here at the setting of the sun (De fac. 26.941A, C);Footnote 47 in Strabo, a temple of Cronus and Heracles is associated with the city Gadeira/Gades (i.e., the island of Erytheia) which, in geographical thought, was identified for a long time as the western edge of civilisation (3.5.3);Footnote 48 likewise, following Bilić, Cronus’ association with the Adriatic Sea could also be read in light of the contemporary understanding that this was the then known edge of the world.Footnote 49
The Cronian-utopic environ, by comparison, contains even stronger connections with superterranean liminality. Both Hesiod (Op. 170–69) and Pindar (Ol. 2.70–8) utilise similar poetic imagery in describing a ‘blessed’ afterlife place that is associated with Cronus:Footnote 50 for Hesiod this is the ‘Islands of the Blessed’ (ἐν μακάρων νήσοισι) where Cronus is ‘king’ (τοῖσιν… ἐμβασιλɛύɛι); while for Pindar this is the ‘Isle of the Blessed’ (μακάρων νᾶσος) where the ‘tower of Cronus’ is located (Κρόνου τύρσιν).Footnote 51 While Hesiod is explicit in associating this place/space with the ends of the earth – literally, ἐς πɛίρατα γαίης (Op. 168) – Pindar should be understood as implicitly positioning this space likewise. Recent scholarship has interpreted Pindar's three afterlives as representing three distinct ‘levels’ within a geographical schema:Footnote 52 two linked subterranean (literally ‘beneath the earth’, κατὰ γᾶς: Ol. 2.59) underworld fates (‘a level of punishment, and a level of carefree existence’) and a third fate which, to quote Gazis, ‘appears to be located in a different space altogether’.Footnote 53 While the question of this latter group's localisation is certainly complex, there are good reasons for reading this as a superterranean, liminal setting. First, as Gazis notes, there is a clear contrast made between the former two groups who are explicitly positioned ‘beneath the earth’ and this third group whose mode of ‘living’ is unique and clearly resembles that of earth.Footnote 54 Further, there are numerous echoes here with other poetic/narrative descriptions of superterranean liminal phenomena:Footnote 55 e.g., the Homeric vision of the Elysian Plain (Od. 4.561–9: Ἠλύσιον πɛδίον); and various accounts of a prior ‘heroic’/Golden Age under the rule of Cronus in the works of Hesiod (Op. 109–20),Footnote 56 Cratinus (Ploutoi: frs. 172, 176, 363), and Plato (Plt. 271d–72b). While encompassing a broad spectrum of thematic and mythic connections, these places are all clearly located upon the horizontal plane if not explicitly at its edges.Footnote 57 Thus, Cronus is a figure with very clear connections to a variety of horizontal edge-space traditions which may be associated with his positioning at τὰ νɛίατα πɛίρατα… γαίης καὶ πόντοιο in Iliad 8.
2.2. Reading 8.477–83 via a Fluid Localisation
What then of the relationship between these superterranean connotations and the larger thematic/narrative context within which this fluid spatiality occurs? On the one hand, there can be little doubt that 8.477–83 is intended to recollect and renew Zeus’ earlier challenge(s) to the gods to test him (cf. 8.5–27) and the accompanying theme of cosmic/divine hierarchies. This second description of Tartarus occurs immediately after the climax of Book 8 wherein Hera and Athena unsuccessfully attempt to do exactly what Zeus had earlier prohibited (8.350–484) and thus, as Kirk concludes, this passage provides ‘final confirmation of the book's central theme, namely that Zeus’ will is paramount’.Footnote 58 Within such a reading, the geographical description of Tartarus as πɛίρατα γαίης may be explained as a simple rhetorical hyperbole in service to the Iliad's theme of Zeus’ sovereignty:Footnote 59 i.e., regardless of the lengths to which Hera might go – even if she were to go to the very ends of the earth – she is unable to bend Zeus’ will for he is the supreme divinity.
Yet, on the other hand, the careful crafting of this Tartarean description is evident in that Zeus’ remarks form a chiastic pattern: ‘I am not concerned with your anger, not even if you were to go to the most extreme edges… even if you go there on your wanderings, I am not concerned with your anger’ (8.477–8, 482–3).Footnote 60 This structural device emphasises the middle section (within which the description of Iapetus, Cronus and Tartarus occur: 479–81) and thus suggests not only that it is the result of deliberate compositional choices but also that it is of narrative significance.Footnote 61 This, in turn, affirms that these spatial inconsistencies do not need excision, but rather that further analysis is required as to identify their integration within the poem.
As already suggested, Tartarus, Iapetus and Cronus’ association with the πɛίρατα γαίης serves a rhetorical purpose; however, this is more than just acting as a radical hyperbole. These aspects of Zeus’ response to Hera colour the extremity of Hera's actions as negative in tone by connoting prior failed challenges against the sovereignty of Zeus.Footnote 62 While this connotative load does not relate directly to Tartarus’ localisation, that is itself significant: it illustrates that the emphasis here lies not in the geography's spatiality but in the thematic and mythic background that such imagery draws upon. This is notably different from the use of geographical imagery within the earlier description of Tartarus since, in that instance, spatiality was central to the image of mirrored cosmic and divine hierarchies. This change is what allows for the Tartarean localisation to ‘open up’ to superterranean imagery alongside the ‘traditional’ representation of ‘deep’ Tartarus.
A notable spatial-thematic shift has also occurred since Zeus’ earlier threats: the god is no longer situated on Mt. Olympus but has repositioned himself within the cosmos, far away from the other Olympians, on Mt. Ida (Il. 8.47–52). This spot is a significant one both temporally and thematically: according to Mackie, Zeus spends as much as a third of the entire narrative at this location;Footnote 63 and it is when he is positioned here that Zeus lends his support to the Trojans against the Greeks, apparently in contradiction to his own orders that the gods not interfere in the battle (cf. 1.493–527). On the one hand, Mt. Ida is an appropriate location for Zeus to enact such ‘patronage’ since it is the home of the Trojan cult to Zeus (8.47–52), representing a sacred space/place wherein the spheres of the immortals and mortals not only meet but interact.Footnote 64 Thus this space is notably a liminal one in its own right, similar in many regards to other peripheral places such as the land of the Ethiopians where gods and mortals interact (which are themselves superterranean).Footnote 65 Further, as Mackie notes, this shift in localisation has also had narrative consequences, for Mt. Ida is a place at which Zeus’ actions reflect his cosmic positioning: Zeus has separated himself from the other gods both physically (for they remain on Mt. Olympus) and behaviourally (for they are prohibited from interfering in the Trojan war).Footnote 66 This is itself a reflection of the recurrent theme of Zeus’ superiority for, as the god himself stated previously, he is the ‘greatest of all the gods’ (8.27) but here he demonstrates this reality via his interaction with the human sphere (which he alone is entitled to do), rather than the geographical display of a divine/cosmic hierarchy.
3. Iliad 14 (198–210, 271–80, 301–11): Further Descriptions of Tartarus
As a final demonstration of how localisation and thematic concerns might interact, one further presentation of Tartarus ought to be considered. During the Dios apate episode (14.153–377), Tartarus is described via subterranean imagery within a specific mythic content: the Titanomachy. The first two allusions to Tartarus are subtle and implicit, understood only after the fact, for the initial referent of the localisation is Cronus: first, Hera briefly relates how Cronus was ‘forced below (νέρθɛ καθɛῖσɛ) the earth and the unresting sea’ by Zeus (Il. 14.203–4); then, this is reiterated by Hypnos when he requires Hera to swear an oath invoking Styx and ‘the gods below (οἱ ἔνɛρθɛ θɛοί) with Cronus’ (14.274). Yet, when the poet reprises the swearing of this oath, the earlier localiser ‘below with Cronus’ (14.274) is replaced with ‘beneath [in] Tartarus’ (14.278–9: θɛοὺς… τοὺς ὑποταρταρίους). Not only does this firmly establish a connection between Cronus and Tartarus (14.277–80; cf. 14.271–6), but it defines the identity of ‘those below’ – the aforementioned θɛοί – as Titans (14.279: οἳ Τιτῆνɛω καλέονται) and provides a significant contextual reference to the Titanomachy.Footnote 67 This subterranean localisation is notable in that it reshuffles the positioning presented at 8.477–83. Once again, however, this fluidity of space/place illustrates the poet's larger concern with narrative/thematic matters, rather than a strict adherence to a set geographical paradigm.
This reference to the Titanomachy serves to re-accentuate the earlier theme of Zeus’ sovereignty. This focus is not surprising given that many extra-textual depictions of the Titanomachy also address this theogonic theme, which often culminates in the division of the cosmos and the granting of attributes to Zeus, Poseidon and Hades.Footnote 68 It also makes narrative sense to highlight this theme at this point in the poem: by reminding the audience of the fate of those who opposed Zeus, the poet is creating narrative tension to once again question Hera's loyalty and fate. Such is the strength of the motif of Hera's loyalty that Bray has suggested that 14.198–210 ‘almost form[s] an answer’ to the question posed by Zeus at 8.478–81.Footnote 69 Yet Tartarus’ localisation within the Dios apate is complicated by this deliberate echo of 8.477–81 since it draws attention to the contrasting localisation of Cronus himself.
As with Zeus’ speech in Book 8, Hera's use of the phrase πɛίρατα γαιῆς features as part of a carefully crafted rhetorical device. The poet describes Hera as acting δολοφρονέουσα (Il. 14.197: ‘with cunning intent’) which, as Budelmann and Haubold note, means that ‘we [should] expect a fair amount of rhetorical distortion’.Footnote 70 According to Hera, the reason for her visit to the edges of the earth is to fix Oceanus and Tethys’ marriage (14.205–10, 304–6). While the authenticity of the claims that this marriage is in jeopardy and of her intent to assist are questionable, elsewhere Hera's deceit is clearly identifiable: at 14.307–8 she goes so far as to falsify a verifiable fact, the location of her chariot.Footnote 71 Thus Hera's rhetoric must be interpreted as an elaborate ploy, the purpose of which is to sway the hearer to give in to her ulterior requests. These requests, in turn, will establish Hera in a favourable position to discretely turn the tide of the war in the Greeks’ favour by seducing Zeus (14.354–15.34): she first lies to Aphrodite (14.200–10) in order to obtain her girdle (14.214–21) and, following the success of this, to Zeus (14.301–11) with the intent of distracting him from the events of the war by bedding him (14.313–14).
What then is the rhetorical purpose of Cronus’ appearance within Hera's falsehoods, specifically that told to Aphrodite?Footnote 72 There is a symmetry between the two primordial couples that Hera references: Hera's birth parents, Rhea and Cronus; and the guardians who nursed her, Oceanus and Tethys.Footnote 73 These pairings set up a thematic contrast in light of the theogonic setting of the Titanomachy: those who threatened the Olympian order (or, in the case of Rhea, hark back to the prior rulership of the cosmos); and those who offer a safe haven and uphold it. There is, of course, an element of irony here since by her words Hera seeks to present herself as akin to Oceanus and Tethys – concerned with the state of their marriage and the impact this may have upon the status quo of the Olympian order; yet, in deed, she is far more like Cronus in that she seeks to actively challenge Zeus’ authority and will. Once again, this thematic contrast is expressed geographically, via the contrast of these primordial figures’ localisation. Oceanus and Cronus are both liminal figures located at the cosmic periphery; however, here their localisations occur on different cosmic axis. The traditional presentation of Oceanus is naturally a superterranean one, at the edges of the earth (cf. 18.607–8);Footnote 74 while Cronus – for whom there are multiple localisations – is located under the earth as appropriate to his present association with the Titans and Tartarus as a figure of cosmic rebellion (a return to the hierarchical geography of 8.1–27). Thus, these thematic reasons require the (spatial) separation of Oceanus and Cronus (inviting the latter to be repositioned away from the superterranean πɛίρατα) rather than maintaining a shared positioning simply for the sake of spatial consistency ‘required’ by the echoing of 8.477–83.
4. Tartarus’ Localisation in the Iliad: Deliberately Fluid
Each time Tartarus’ localisation is described within the Iliad the audience is presented not with a fixed geographical reality derived from an immutable space/place, but with a fluid realm that may draw upon multiple geographical traditions and associations depending upon the poet's present narrative requirements. Thus, a close reading of these descriptions uncovers Tartarus’ fluidity with traces of its displacement and (re)location across the vertical and horizontal axes of the cosmos – although notably always retaining a position at the periphery of these axes.
This paper has argued that, rather than deriving from a physical understanding of spatial geography, such examples of dual localisation are to be understood as resulting from narrative/thematic concerns. Thus, the traditional subterranean presentation of Tartarus at Iliad 8.13–16 reflects a vertical model of the cosmos which, in turn, embodies the theme of divine hierarchy. As an expression of the ever-present theme of Zeus’ divine will and sovereignty, those who defy Zeus are found at the bottom of the cosmic hierarchy/vertical axis, imprisoned in Tartarus. Next, the description of Tartarus’ localisation at 8.477–83 includes superterranean connotations alongside the more traditional, subterranean material. These connotations are permitted to ‘creep to the surface’ as a result of Zeus’ shift in positioning within the cosmos: now located on Mt. Ida rather than Olympus. While the thematic interest of the poet remains the same (i.e., Zeus’ superiority), this is expressed via Zeus’ unique ability to interact with the human sphere. By expressing this theme thus, the poet has shifted his focus away from the cosmic imagery of the vertical axis and allows for alternative connotations to be read from the localisation. Finally, Book 14 returns to the more traditional depiction of Tartarus’ localisation as ‘below’. Once again, the theme of Zeus’ divine will and sovereignty is at play with echoes relating to both earlier Tartarean passages. Hera's present deceit is a significant point of narrative climax, recalling her rebellious intent at 8.477–83, which sees a return to the subterranean imagery of cosmic/geographical hierarchies. This time, however, there is an additional thematic contrast between the primordial figures of Oceanus and Cronus which predicates their geographical positioning along alternative cosmic axes.
The analysis of these narrative concerns as they relate to the usage of both sub- and super-terranean Tartarus affirms two larger theses relating to landscape use in Homeric epic: (1) a multiplicity of space and place can exist within a text without resorting to explaining such contradictions via claims of interpolation; and, (2) this multiplicity can be understood as logical, not within a ‘this world’ physical-spatial paradigm, but within a framework which places physical geography as subservient to narrative/thematic matters. Thus, it is not necessary to explain away fluid localisations as the result of either an inconsistent/incompetent poet or an inauthentic/inaccurate textual tradition. Rather these can be understood as reflecting deliberate poetic choices which, once brought to the fore, can only enrich current understandings of these narratives.
