At the beginning of the Pseudo-Hesiodic Shield of Heracles, Zeus seduces Alcmene, the mortal woman who will give birth to Heracles, the hero of the poem. Zeus's decision to approach Alcmene and his plan to do so are described with the following lines:
The verb βυσσο-δομεύω (Sc. 30 = Hes. Frg. 195.37 M.–W.), separated by Glenn Most in his translation as ‘planning in the depth’, appears to be composed of a noun βυσσός (‘depth’) and a verbal root *δέμ- (‘[to] construct’),Footnote 2 thus literally meaning ‘(to) build in the deep’.Footnote 3 There is no instance in our extant texts where this compound verb is employed literally in reference to an act of construction, and to the best of our knowledge it is exclusively used metaphorically in early epic diction to describe a mental process (see also Hom. Od. 4.676; 8.273; 9.316; 17.66, 465, 491; 20.184).Footnote 4
The methodological problem of positing metaphorical usage – that is, deviation from literal usage when no instance of literal usage is attestedFootnote 5 – is precluded by the fact that, as a compound, the literal, ‘ordinary’ meaning can be ascertained etymologically through the basic senses of its two constituents, whose literal meanings are undisputed. As a result, since compounds may reasonably be supposed to reflect the meanings of their elements, the basic meaning of βυσσο-δομεύω must be assumed to be ‘(to) build in the deep’, even though there are no extant instances of this ‘normal’ usage (if there ever were any).Footnote 6 The contextual sense of the verb in Sc. 30 as referring to a mental process is deviant from this posited basic meaning, but can be understood in comparison with it, which is a criterion for metaphor identification.Footnote 7 Judging from its transparent etymology, βυσσοδομεύω must be interpreted as a metaphor and its usage (as well as the conceptualizations upon which this usage is based) can be examined accordingly.
The verb is always used transitively and, based on the contexts in which it appears, it seems as if it had predominantly negative connotations.Footnote 8 From the repeated occurrences in early Greek epic poetry, we can conclude that the phrasing of the collocation (ἐνὶ) ϕρεσὶ βυσσοδομεύων is formulaic, conventional, and probably non-deliberate,Footnote 9 with comparatively low metaphoricity.Footnote 10 While the assessment of the literary value of the metaphor and its metaphoricity are beyond the scope of this study, in the following discussion I will demonstrate the complex cognitive processes and preconceptions involved in understanding this seemingly simple verb and the richness of the metaphorical notions underlying its constituents.
The phrase (ἐνὶ ϕρεσὶ) βυσσοδομεύων belongs to the wealth of metaphorical expressions that the ancient Greeks employed to denote intellectual activity, a field which is abstract and difficult to describe literally and where it is accordingly natural to resort to metaphors.Footnote 11 It has been an insight of recent studies in the theory of metaphor, especially from the field of cognitive linguistics, that metaphor is not an aberrant way of using language or the mere substitution of a literal phrase, but a common and essential process of human thought and cognition by which we can think, speak, and make sense of our environment and our existence. The human conceptual system relies on metaphors:
Metaphor is for most people a device of the poetic imagination and the rhetorical flourish – a matter of extraordinary rather than ordinary language. Moreover, metaphor is typically viewed as characteristic of language alone, a matter of words rather than thought or action. For this reason, most people think they can get along perfectly well without metaphor. We have found, on the contrary, that metaphor is pervasive in everyday life, not just in language but in thought and action. Our ordinary conceptual system, in terms of which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical in nature.Footnote 12
Furthermore, it has been proposed that metaphors cannot fully be explained and interpreted in isolation, but need to be examined in context with other, similar metaphors: each individual textual metaphor has a linguistic form, but may be an instantiation of an underlying conceptualization shared by other individual linguistic metaphors. These underlying conceptualizations are called ‘conceptual metaphors’ in cognitive linguistics and consist of a (usually more concrete) ‘source domain’ being mapped onto an (abstract) ‘target domain’.Footnote 13 The focus of cognitive linguistic metaphor research is the detection and explanation of conventional instantiations of conceptual metaphors (which often have only low metaphoricity and were often rejected by traditional approaches to metaphor as ‘dead’ metaphors), and thus this approach has been opted for in order to explore the phrase (ἐνὶ ϕρεσὶ) βυσσοδομεύων.
Cognitive linguists have argued that metaphor is a fundamental and indispensable pattern of human thought and language, and occurs particularly often in cases where the target concept is abstract and thus difficult to comprehend literally and concretely.Footnote 14 From a phenomenological point of view, the concept of ‘thought’ and the domain of thinking are not perceptual, and, as a result, are difficult to imagine: in the absence of any possibility to determine objectively or subjectively how and where ‘thinking’ happens there emerge intersubjective, culturally specific ideas of mental activity and cognitive processes.Footnote 15 Before detailed anatomical and neurological knowledge became accessible, what goes on when human beings think and where it happens was a matter of interpretation.
We now know that thinking happens through neurons in the brain and the vertebrate spinal cord transmitting electrochemical signals, and our folk notion also locates mental activity in head, but for the ancient Greeks the brain (ἐγκέϕαλος, ‘that which is in the κεϕαλή’) played no role in cognitive processes. The ϕρένες (‘mind’) and also the θυμός (‘spirit’), the ultimately untranslatable ‘mental organs’ where thought is often located in Greek epic diction, are commonly assigned to the upper part of the body and thus one can have ‘thoughts in the chest’ (e.g. Il. 24.40–1: νόημα … ἐνὶ στήθεσσι).Footnote 16 One way to imagine contemplation and decision-making is through a conversation with one's θυμός or κραδίη (‘heart’) (see the θυμός-speeches in Il. 11.401–13, 17.90–107, 21.552–72, and 22.98–131, and Odysseus’ κραδίη-speech in Od. 20.17–21):Footnote 17 ‘speaking to one's θυμός’, as well as the synonymous variation ‘speaking to one's κραδίη’, is a metaphor for deliberation, whereby the internal and invisible act of thinking is concretized as speaking, albeit in the form of a (silent) inner discussion. However, there is not one metaphorical model of how thinking is conceptualized in Ancient Greek, but rather metaphors can be drawn from different perceptual concepts to describe the fundamental but non-perceptual concept of thinking. Thus, it is necessary to collect and examine the evidence of other metaphors used in Ancient Greek to imagine mental activity and the bodily processes involved in thinking.
To return to the case with which the discussion originated, the bipartite compound βυσσο-δομεύω affords two starting points, since it requires investigation if and how both its constituents might be linked figuratively to ideas about thinking and planning. First, it has been noted that the first part of the compound, βυσσός (‘depth’), literally refers to the depth of the sea,Footnote 18 which underscores the metaphoricity of the verb: it would be absurd to attempt a literal interpretation of the collocation δόλον ϕρεσὶ βυσσοδομεύων as ‘building a ruse in the depth (of the sea) in/with (?) one's lungs’.Footnote 19 Rather, the whole phrase requires an interpretation which accounts for its metaphorical character, and the notion of depth must be understood more immediately in conjunction with the dative locative ϕρεσί, denoting the metaphorical space (‘mind’) in whose depth the thought process is being located.Footnote 20 The exact identification and location of the ϕρένες where human cognitive functions are often said to happen in Ancient Greek epic diction has been a matter of debate. However, from the point of view of the cognitive linguistic approach the question to be asked is rather whether they can or even need to be located, since they are regularly used in a non-biological, figurative way as the ‘space’ or ‘location’ in the human body where thinking ‘takes place’: presumably, the association originated as a metonymical relationship with the ϕρένες denoting the seat of thought through contiguous association, but the original bodily meaning as an organ in the torso (see Il. 16.481, 504; Od. 9.301) has largely receded behind the figurative meaning in contexts referring to mental processes.Footnote 21
In any case, the notion of ‘depth’ in reference to a physical organ in the body does not produce good literal sense and thus needs to be taken metaphorically in reference to an abstract space, the ‘mind’, in terms of either the intensity of the thought process or its secrecy. Both of these readings of the notion of depth in reference to thinking are ultimately based on the common conceptual metaphor seeing is knowing:Footnote 22 something which cannot be seen or understood ‘at first glance’ is not merely ‘superficial’Footnote 23 but either possesses a certain ‘profundity’ or is hidden from sight and thus secret. In the case of [Hes.] Sc. 30–2, the notion of the secrecy of Zeus's planning is also compounded by the fact that he moves in the night, and thus unseen and, by metaphorical extension, unknown (Sc. 32: ἐννύχιος). The image of ‘deep thought’ or ‘pondering in the depth of one's mind’ appears to be common in early Greek poetry and several examples from other archaic poets are readily available (see Solon Frg. 33.1 West; Thgn. 1051–2; Pind. Pyth. 2.79–80, Nem. 7.1; Aesch. Cho. 651, Sept. 593, Supp. 407–9, 956, 1057–8).Footnote 24
After the discussion of βυσσός as the metaphorical location of thought, we turn to the second constituent of the verb, *δομεύω, whose basic meaning as an o-grade formation from the verbal root *δέμ- (‘[to] build’, ‘[to] construct’) is uncontroversial. Clearly, the usage of a verb with the basic meaning ‘(to) build’ in reference to a mental process requires additional explanation in the wider context of early Greek epic poetry and language use.Footnote 25 As has been stated initially, even though it is possible to refer to the act of thinking literally (with verbs such as ϕρονέω/ϕροντίζωFootnote 26 or μερμηρίζωFootnote 27 ), the abstract domain of thought and mental activity is a concept where one is likely to find metaphors drawn from more physical domains.
The metaphorical transfer of a verb denoting physical movement or activity to describe the more abstract process of thought is not an isolated instance, and is indeed to be expected: examples for verbs originally describing physical actions being used metaphorically for mental activity include ὁρμαίνω (literally ‘[to] turn over’, ‘[to] revolve’)Footnote 28 (e.g. Il. 1.193, 10.507, 11.411, 14.20, 17.106, 18.15, 21.64, 21.137, 22.131; Od. 4.120, 5.365, 5.424, 6.118, 18.345) and (ἐμ-)βάλλω (ἐνὶ ϕρεσί) (literally ‘[to] throw’, ‘[to] cast around’ [in one's mind])Footnote 29 (e.g. Il. 1.297, 4.39, 5.259, 9.611, 10.447, 23.313; Od. 11.454, 16.281, 16.299, 17.548). Again, the metaphorical space in which thoughts are contemplated by being moved about is denoted as either ϕρήν/ϕρένες or θυμός. The objects which are metaphorically moved in thinking are plans or thoughts (see Il. 23.313: μῆτιν ἐμβάλλεο θυμῷ), but are often not explicitly stated. Similarly, μῆτις (‘thought’, ‘plan’) can be traced back to a root with the basic meaning ‘(to) measure’,Footnote 30 and the verb derived from μῆτις, μητιάομαι, is used exclusively metaphorically for processes of thinking (‘measuring thoughts’, ‘measure mentally’). These examples are barely recognizable as metaphors because of their conventionality and low metaphoricity,Footnote 31 but they demonstrate the basic principle of using vocabulary for concrete actions metaphorically, more particularly the acts of moving or measuring physical objects as metaphors for contemplating, ‘moving thoughts in the mind’ and ‘measure mentally’, both of which presuppose the conceptual ontological metaphors the mind is a container and thoughts are objects.Footnote 32 By the same token, a difficult decision between two options can be imagined as ‘splitting (a thought) in two’ (Il. 14.20–1: ὅρμαινε δαϊζόμενος κατὰ θυμὸν / διχθάδι’).Footnote 33
The conceptualization of ‘moving thoughts’ seems to be employed when a person is thinking about possible, preconceived courses of action, while for the more creative process of contriving ideas and devising plans verbs that literally denote craftsmanship and physical creativity are used (thinking is crafting Footnote 34 ). Complex thoughts are conceptualized as intricate physical objects which need to be crafted – for example, the case of the verbs ὑϕαίνω (literally ‘[to] weave’)Footnote 35 or ῥάπτω (literally ‘[to] stitch’),Footnote 36 from the domain of textile manufacture, which often function as metaphors for complex mental processes in epic diction (ὑϕαίνω: Il. 3.212, 6.187, 7.324, 9.93; Od. 4.739, 5.356, 9.422, 13.303, 13.386; Sc. 28; ῥάπτω: Il. 18.367; Od. 3.118; 16.379, 421–2, 423). Concerning the choice of craft, weaving is an appropriate metaphor for the cognitive effort of devising a plan: just like different and originally distinct threads are interwoven in an orderly manner to form a complex texture, planning consists of combining thoughts to form a coherent scheme. Penelope's ploy of pretending to weave a shroud for Laertes in order to postpone her impending second wedding (Od. 2.93–106, 19.137–51) is probably an artful play on this conventional metaphorical usage of ὑϕαίνω, which combines the literal performance of the craft with its figurative meaning of deceit. Similarly, stitching is an apt metaphor for the mental effort of combining disparate thoughts or ideas into a meaningful and coherent composition – a metaphor which is also employed to denote the craft of the poet, who composes a new song out of pre-existing formulaic phrases and is thus famously called ῥαψ-ῳδός, literally ‘stitcher of song’ (Hes. fr. 357.2 M.–W.; see also Pind. Nem. 2.1–2: Ὁμηρίδαι / ῥαπτῶν ἐπέων…ἀοιδοί [‘Homeridae, the singers of stitched verses’]).Footnote 37
So far, examples for the use of verbs denoting physical actions as source domain for mental activity have been verbs referring to setting in motion in general (ὁρμαίνω, βάλλω) or to textile crafts (ὑϕαίνω,Footnote 38 ῥάπτω). Regarding the conceptualiziation (complex) thinking is crafting, early Greek epic diction obviously favours textile metaphors,Footnote 39 but the compound βυσσο-δομεύω, with which the discussion originated, draws on a different, but comparable sphere of physical construction and manufacture. The basic meaning of its second constituent, δέμω (with the derivative forms δομάω, *δομέω, and *δομεύω) usually refers to construction with clay and bricks, such as the building of houses (Od. 6.9; see also the compound οἰκο-δομέω, ‘[to] build a house’), walls (Il. 7.436, 9.349, 14.32), or whole cities (Il. 21.446). In this regard, the conceptualization is familiar to us, for, in modern languages, words from the source domain of construction are also used metaphorically in reference to thought processes and particularly to presenting arguments. A complex and elaborate conceptual metaphor based on this primary notion that is often cited in cognitive linguistic studies of metaphor is theories are buildings.Footnote 40
To conclude, upon closer inspection the verb βυσσο-δομεύω reveals intensive and complex use of metaphorical notions which are still familiar and thus present no problems of comprehension for modern recipients of ancient epic poetry. It brings together two otherwise unrelated conventional metaphorical conceptualizations: first, the notion of mind as a space, in which depth indicates ‘profundity’ or secrecy of thought, that is, ‘deep thoughts’ (note how English employs the same metaphorical conception); and second, the conceptual metaphor of thought processes as physical acts of construction (thinking is crafting). Both notions are familiar and conventional and, as a result, the metaphor which results from the combination of the two conceptualizations is easily accessible and understandable.Footnote 41 However, what makes the compound βυσσοδομεύω especially intriguing and deserving of close examination is the fact that the combination of the two metaphorical notions distinguished above produces a verb which must necessarily be comprehended and interpreted as a metaphor, since its literal meaning, ‘(to) construct in the depth (of the sea)’, has no sensible application to the early Greek living environment (hence the lack of extant instances of literal, ‘ordinary’ usage). In its form as a poetic, epic compound, the metaphor βυσσοδομεύω is certainly extravagant (compared to other simplex verbs denoting crafts used metaphorically for mental processes, such as ὁρμαίνω, ὑϕαίνω, or ῥάπτω). However, its etymology is semantically transparent and the resulting metaphoricity attests to the natural and vibrant use of metaphorical language in reference to mental activity in our earliest sources of Ancient Greek literature.Footnote 42
Thus, this particularly salient (and inevitably metaphorical) example of a metaphor for mental activity in epic diction serves to demonstrate that Homeric Greek and early Greek epic poetry were already using a fully developed metaphorical model of the mind.Footnote 43 Metaphor is, and has always been, a necessary and indispensable part of human thought and cognition. The metaphoricity of many expressions regarding ideas about the mind in Ancient Greek, some of which have been quoted above as parallels, but which are less conspicuous than βυσσοδομεύω, needs to be recognized and may be helpful in order to explain how words can have the meanings they do and account for certain phrases in philological and literary studies of ancient texts.Footnote 44