INTRODUCTION
Diogenes Laertius' list of Aristotle's works includes a Homeric Puzzles (Ἀπορημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν) in six books (5.26, no. 119), as does the list in the biography of Aristotle attributed to Hesychius (no. 106).Footnote 1 This latter also includes a Homeric Problems (Προβλημάτων Ὁμηρικῶν) in ten books (no. 147), which appears to be the same as an item in the biography (extant in Arabic) attributed to Ptolemy al-Gharib (no. 104).Footnote 2 The later and more derivative Vita Marciana attributes to Aristotle a Homeric Questions (Ὁμηρικὰ ζητήματα).Footnote 3 The only other reference to the title of such a work by Aristotle is from the anonymous Antiatticista, a second-century a.d. lexicon (s.v. βασίλισσα): ‘They say Alcaeus the comic poet and Aristotle in Homeric Puzzles said this.’Footnote 4 Finally, Poetics 25 – which begins περὶ δὲ προβλημάτων καὶ λύσεων – is a summary, with examples, of just such a work, and a description of how to undertake such an inquiry.
I proceed on the assumption that Aristotle wrote one work, in at least six books, presenting and solving puzzles and problems related to the epics of Homer.Footnote 5 (I refer to this work hereafter as Homeric Puzzles.) The two most recent collections of the fragments of Aristotle include nearly 40 fragments each from (or testimonia about) this work (frr. 366–404 Gigon/142–79 Rose).Footnote 6 The vast majority of these texts are drawn from the numerous scholia in the manuscripts of the Iliad and the Odyssey Footnote 7 – though many or most of these, in turn, come from Porphyry's Homeric Questions.Footnote 8 Along with Poetics 25, these texts are clearly our best source for information about the Homeric Puzzles. This material, however, would likely fill, or represents the content of, less than one book; but Aristotle's Homeric Puzzles consisted of multiple books. I think it worthwhile to explore other ways of determining the content of this lost work.
Aristotle cites Homer nine times in the History of Animals. In the biology as a whole, he cites him eleven times. In what follows, I examine all of the Homeric references in the biological works, and argue that, taken together, they likely provide additional evidence about the content of the Homeric Puzzles. And at the very least, these passages give us a better idea of how Aristotle would have approached some of the debates engaged in by Homeric scholars in antiquity.Footnote 9 So far as I know, no one has suggested this source.Footnote 10
Before proceeding, I need to present a couple of basic points from Poetics 25, which should help in understanding the biological excerpts I discuss.Footnote 11 First, according to Aristotle, the standard of correctness in mimetic art is not simply the way things were or are; an artist may also (properly) imitate or represent what is said or thought to be to the way things were or are.Footnote 12 The best example would be any story involving the Olympian gods: Aristotle does not believe such beings exist, though most people at the time did and of course most playwrights made use of stories about them.Footnote 13 A second (and related) point: even if an artist has committed an error – has imitated or represented something that does not conform to what is true, or what is said or thought to be true – it is not necessarily an aesthetic error. In fact, some errors are justified on the grounds that they better achieve some legitimate aesthetic aim. For instance, a beautiful, well-executed painting of a running horse, which fails to make the placement of the legs match the reality of equine motion, commits an error in knowledge of a particular field of study, but not (necessarily) an error in the mimetic art in question, namely painting.Footnote 14 The same would be true, Aristotle says, of a beautiful painting of a doe with horns. Such factual errors are not grounds for a major aesthetic criticism.Footnote 15If a painting could have been well executed and factually accurate about such equine or cervine details, then it would have been even better; however, if some legitimate aesthetic end is met by ignoring or contradicting such details – even if the result is impossible – that is justified on aesthetic grounds, and should not be criticized. For example (mine, not Aristotle's): if a poet portrays a horse leaping an impossibly wide distance or clearing an impossibly high wall, and such a portrayal better conveys grandeur or heroic stature – without straining credulity too much and becoming ridiculous – then such an impossibility is aesthetically justified.
HOMER IN ARISTOTLE'S BIOLOGY
I follow the standard order of appearance in the corpus Aristotelicum: nine passages from the History of Animals,Footnote 16 and then one each from the Parts of Animals and Generation of Animals.Footnote 17 For each Aristotle-text, my method is the following (though not always in this order): (1) to set the Homeric context, quoting the relevant text;Footnote 18 (2) to present the Aristotle-text and provide its context; (3) to attempt to formulate the kind of puzzle the Aristotle-text might have been connected to, and, if possible, Aristotle's solution; (4) if possible, to provide evidence from other ancient works that the relevant Homeric text in fact was the subject of debate in antiquity.
1. Hist. an. 3.3, 513b24–8: on Il. 13.545–7
The account of the gruesome death of Thoön at the hands of Antilochus, in Iliad 13, includes an unusual anatomical description (545–7):
In Hist. an. 3.3, Aristotle turns to describing ‘the great vessel’ (ἡ μεγάλη φλέψ, 513b1) – i.e. the vena cava. At one point, he quotes Homer approvingly (513b24–8):
ἡ δ' ἐπὶ τὸν σφόνδυλον τοῦ τραχήλου τείνουσα φλὲψ καὶ τὴν ῥάχιν πάλιν παρὰ τὴν ῥάχιν τείνει, ἣν καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐν τοῖς ἔπεσιν εἴρηκε ποιήσας “ἀπὸ δὲ φλέβα πᾶσαν ἔκερσεν, ἥ τ' ἀνὰ νῶτα θέουσα διαμπερὲς αὐχέν' ἱκάνει”.
The vessel extending to the vertebra of the throat and to the backbone extends back again along the backbone, which [vessel] Homer too portrayed in these lines, saying: ‘he cut through all the vessel which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck.’
Aristotle's identification of the vessel mentioned by Homer with the vena cava is not unproblematic; and just as modern Homeric scholars continue to debate the identity of this vessel,Footnote 20 ancient scholars likely did as well. At least one scholiast clearly agrees with Aristotle.Footnote 21 Aristarchus flagged the passage, and Aristonicus' explanation of what is supposedly objectionable in it survives: it includes πᾶσαν where one would expect ὅλην (the whole vessel, not all the vessel), and it does not successfully convey what had happened to Thoön: ‘he had fallen after the strike owing to the spinal vessel having been loosened and no longer being the enduring sinew’. Aristonicus (presumably following Aristarchus) may have identified this vessel with the spinal cord and not the vena cava, and the same could be said for the D-scholiast.Footnote 22
There is further evidence for ancient debate about how anatomically accurate this Homeric passage is, in an interesting passage from Galen's commentary on the Hippocratic On the Nature of Man. In On the Nature of Man 11, which discusses ‘the thickest of the vessels’ (αἱ παχύταται τῶν φλεβῶν), the author states not that there is one major vessel running along the spine, but two pairs of vessels. Galen in his commentary claims that this is so obviously wrong that ‘someone has added the account to the Hippocratic treatise’ (εἰς Ἱπποκράτειον σύγγραμμα παρενέθηκέ τις τὸν λόγον). A few lines later he adds:
The [nature] of the greatest vessel is so clear that anyone who is able to learn something from dissection would not be able to overlook it, and this has been agreed to by everyone to such an extent that even the poets themselves know it. In any case, Homer says: ‘he cut through all the vessel, which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck’. He knew, then, that there is a single one, as indeed there is, not four …Footnote 23
One may merely speculate that Aristotle too would have defended Homer against the Hippocratic (or pseudo-Hippocratic) account, and in general taken part in this debate.
2. Hist. an. 3.12, 519a18–20: on Il. 20.73–4
At the opening of Iliad 20, Zeus informs the other gods that they may now take part in the war, each helping the side he or she supports. The gods pair off in battle: Poseidon against Apollo, Ares against Athena, Hera against Artemis, Leto against Hermes (67–72). Our passage follows (73–4):
The topic of Hist. an. 3.12 is animals changing colour, especially owing to changes in their environment. At 519a9, Aristotle turns to discussing change in hair colour ‘following changes to their waters’ (κατὰ τὰς τῶν ὑδάτων μεταβολάς) – presumably their drinking-water – with a focus on lambs. He provides a few examples, concluding the discussion:
δοκεῖ δὲ καὶ ὁ Σκάμανδρος ποταμὸς ξανθὰ τὰ πρόβατα ποιεῖν· διὸ καὶ τὸν Ὅμηρόν φασιν ἀντὶ Σκαμάνδρου Ξάνθον προσαγορεύειν αὐτόν.
In fact the Scamander River is thought to make lambs yellow; and this is why they say Homer calls it Xanthus instead of Scamander.
There certainly was, in antiquity, a dispute over this Iliad passage: over why the Scamander was also called Xanthus, and why the gods called it the latter. As is usually the case, most of the evidence comes from fairly long after Aristotle – though his ‘they say’ (φασιν) indicates that this question was already a topic of discussion and that the river's purported capacity to turn things yellow (or lambs, at any rate) was one reason given for why it was called Xanthus.Footnote 24 In fact, to judge from the other evidence, every explanation involved this capacity. Eustathius (drawing on other sources)Footnote 25 mentions three such claims in his commentary on the Iliad:
It is called Xanthus, since, they say, it yellows especially those who bathe in it, as the Lycian XanthusFootnote 26 does as well; or also, when it swells it whitens the crops growing beside it, and in this way [makes them] yellow … Or because Aphrodite, before the Judgment [of Paris], by bathing in it, acquired yellow hair.Footnote 27
If this was a problem that Aristotle discussed in his Homeric Puzzles, what might his solution have been? That he writes ‘they say’ seems to suggest that that was not his own answer – that he was simply using this alternative answer as an opinion supporting his claim about changing waters transforming the hair colour of certain animals, and not as a key to explaining Homer. Of course, it may also have been his own solution, and he was simply being non-committal in the context of the Hist. an.-discussion of lambs. Or, it could be that his own answer was a more obvious one (which had nothing to do with lambs): the river was called Xanthus because it looks yellow. (At Il. 21.8 it is described as ἀργυροδίνην, ‘silver-swirling’.)Footnote 28 But his answer might not have been that straightforward – at least, there might be a good reason for someone to suggest a less obvious explanation. As I indicated, the original problem was likely not simply why the river is called Xanthus but why it is called that by the gods. An explanation in terms of special transformative powers was thus arguably more suitable.
3. Hist. an. 6.20, 574b29–575a1: on Od. 17.326–7
In a poignant scene in Odyssey 17 (290–327), a disguised Odysseus, talking to Eumaeus, recognizes an old dog lying nearby on a dung heap: it is Argos, whom Odysseus had raised as a pup. Whereas no one else has recognized Odysseus, Argos pricks up his ears at his master's voice. Odysseus and Eumaeus talk about the dog briefly and then exit, at which point (326–7):
In Hist. an. 6.20, Aristotle presents assorted information about dogs, with particular attention to the Laconian breed. Towards the end of the chapter, he discusses the age of the Laconian dog (574b29–575a1):
ζῇ δὲ τῶν Λακωνικῶν κύων ὁ μὲν ἄρρην περὶ ἔτη δέκα, ἡ δὲ θήλεια περὶ ἔτη δώδεκα, τῶν δ' ἄλλων κυνῶν αἱ πλεῖσται περὶ ἔτη τετταρακαίδεκα ἢ πεντεκαίδεκα, ἔνιαι δὲ καὶ εἴκοσιν· διὸ καὶ Ὅμηρον οἴονταί τινες ὀρθῶς ποιῆσαι τῷ εἰκοστῷ ἔτει ἀποθανόντα τὸν κύνα τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως.
Of the Laconian dogs the male lives about ten years, the female about twelve, whereas of the other dogs most of the females live around fourteen or fifteen years, but some even twenty; and this is why some believe that Homer correctly portrays the dog of Odysseus dying in the twentieth year.
Once again, Aristotle's own words – ‘some believe’ (οἴονταί τινες), etc. – indicate that at the time he wrote this, people were debating, in connection with Argos, whether it was possible for a dog to live for twenty years or more. One interpretation, it seems, was that Homer is accurate: some dogs live past twenty, and therefore Argos could have. This is confirmed by Eustathius, who again provides a clue to some of the parties of the debate. After quoting Od. 17.326–7, he refers to ‘the inquiry into how long Argos was strong enough to live’ (τὴν ἱστορίαν ἐπὶ πόσον ὁ Ἄργος ἐξήρκεσε ζῶν). The first interpretation he presents, which seems to be his own, is roughly the sort of interpretation mentioned by Aristotle: some side with Homer, who is accurate, ‘because dogs can live even 24 years’ (ὅτι δὲ καὶ εἰκοσιτέσσαρα ζῶσιν ἔτη κύνες).Footnote 29
What would Aristotle have made of this interpretation? He might have balked at using the longevity of some female dogs as support for Homer's portrayal of Argos (a male). Aristophanes of Byzantium (c. 257–180 b.c.), a Homeric scholar in his own right, discussing Hist. an. 6.20 in his Epitome of Aristotle's History of Animals, either criticizes Aristotle or (more likely) tries to distance him from this interpretation: ‘The [male] Laconian [dog] lives ten years, the female twelve; but the other females live to fourteen. But the myth being made about the dog of Odysseus, that he lived twenty years, is among the things believed in in vain.’Footnote 30 There is other evidence, however, that Aristotle defended at least one aspect of the accuracy of this Homeric passage (and perhaps more importantly, that he discussed this issue in his Homeric Puzzles). Here is fr. 400 Gigon:
Ἀριστοτέλης φησὶν ὅτι πρεσβύτης ἦν ἤδη σφόδρα ὁ κύων καὶ ὑπὸ τῆς ἡδονῆς τῆς πρὸς τὸν Ὀδυσσέα ἐτελεύτησεν εἰκότως· αἱ γὰρ σφοδραὶ ἡδοναὶ καὶ ἰσχυραὶ διαλύουσι. διὸ καὶ τὸν κύνα ἐποίησεν ἀναγνωρίσαντα καὶ ἡσθέντα ἀποψῦξαι.Footnote 31
Aristotle says that the dog was already a very old one and it is reasonable that he was killed by his pleasure with regard to Odysseus: for very strong pleasures undo [us]. And this is why [Homer] portrayed the dog as recognizing [him] and so being content to die.
This answers a different (but related) question: was it reasonable to portray Argos dying shortly after seeing Odysseus? But the age of Argos, and how plausible such an age was, would likely have been brought in to answer this question.
The other interpretation Eustathius mentions also combines the age of Argos and the cause of his death. I think the implication in what follows is that even if it were the case that Argos lived an unnaturally long life, he did so because his long life and the manner of his death were used by the gods to send a good omen to Odysseus:
The ancients say Argos died so quickly under the pleasure of the recognition, for little weight puts to rest ancient bodies, according to Sophocles, often at least when they are overcome by stronger things – like violent pains, and similarly [violent] pleasures. But the action, it is said, was an omen auspicious for Odysseus. For the dog was perhaps white, as was written before,Footnote 32 and everything white is a good omen. Now as a dog both weak through old age and dying at the same time as the sighting of Odysseus, it revealed the shamelessness and weakness of the suitors and their not being long for this world, even if otherwise they themselves were gladdened with high expectations.Footnote 33
Both Poetics 25 and the fragmentary evidence of the Homeric Puzzles reveal that Aristotle prefers straightforward explanations or interpretations, if possible, and not allegorical ones or appeals to the divine – though divine intrusions into a story are fine, he thinks, if necessitated by the plot (see n. 13). He discusses omens, however, only when they are an explicit part of Homer's story.Footnote 34
I think one other interpretation was likely concerning this passage – one which may well have prompted the debate over it in the first place. Zoilus of Amphipolis was known as Ὁμηρομάστιξ, ‘Scourge of Homer’. He lived in the fourth century b.c. and so may well have been known to Aristotle. He appears to have focussed on and been hypercritical about what many would regard as non-essentials.Footnote 35 One can imagine Zoilus (or someone like him) criticizing Homer for unrealistically extending the life of Argos.
Such a criticism would not have impressed Aristotle, however. Even if the facts of canine biology did not support Homer, that would have been little cause for concern; for, as we have seen, such factual errors are tolerable if some legitimate aesthetic end is achieved, and I believe that that condition is met here: this touching scene connects Odysseus with his past life in Ithaca, and underscores all that was absent or lost in the intervening twenty years. Stretching the longevity of Argos slightly beyond what was likely or possible (if that is what Homer did) to cover Odysseus' twenty-year absence was a small price to pay.
4. Hist. an. 6.21, 575b4–7: on Il. 2.402–3 & 7.313–5 and Od. 19.418–20 & 10.19–20
In three passages, Homer mentions a five-year-old bull:
In a fourth passage, however, the age of a bull is said to be nine seasons:
Much ancient Homeric scholarship or interpretation was concerned with explaining apparent contradictions – or, in the case of Homer's more severe critics, pointing out contradictions. For example, why does Homer at one point say that Crete has 100 cities (Il. 2.649) but elsewhere 90 (Od. 19.172–4)?Footnote 37
The first three passages do not necessarily contradict the fourth, but some critics apparently thought they did or thought Homer needed to be defended against such a charge. Aristotle was aware of this issue. In Hist. an. 6.21, he presents assorted information about cattle; and after a brief description of their usual longevity, he writes (575b4–7):
ἀκμάζει δὲ μάλιστα πεντετὴς ὤν, διὸ καὶ Ὅμηρόν φασι πεποιηκέναι τινὲς ὀρθῶς ποιήσαντα “ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον” καὶ τὸ “βοὸς ἐννεώροιο”· δύνασθαι γὰρ ταὐτόν.
[The bull] is at its prime especially when five years old, and this is why some say Homer portrayed them well, writing ‘male and of five years old’ and ‘bull of nine seasons’; for [they say these] can be the same.Footnote 38
This brief passage might actually indicate two Homeric questions or puzzles: (1) Was Homer right that a bull is, at five years, in its prime (and so ideally suitable as a sacrifice to Zeus)? (2) Does Homer equate ‘five years’ and ‘nine seasons’, and if so, was he justified in doing so? I have, however, encountered no (other) evidence for the first of these questions. Aristotle at any rate answers it in the affirmative.
He appears non-committal about the second question, however: some say that ‘five years’ and ‘nine seasons’ mean the same thing. So far as I have been able to determine, without exception the ancient lexical and etymological works, as well as the Homeric scholia, all take ‘nine seasons’ to mean ‘nine years’.Footnote 39 On this view, Homer did not equate ‘five years’ and ‘nine seasons’. One obvious approach, then, for those who equate ‘nine seasons’ and ‘nine years’, is to say that the first three passages all describe ritual sacrifice (or, in the third case, ritual meal preparation), and so require a bull in its prime (i.e. five years old), but that nothing rules out a wineskin, divinely crafted to contain the winds, being made out of the hide from a nine-year-old bull. Another approach would be to claim that Homer did equate the two, but that he was wrong to do so.
Eustathius does not offer any direct help with our passage (though it is perhaps noteworthy that he quotes Hist. an. 6.21 in support of Homer).Footnote 40 He does make a relevant comment on Od. 10.390, however, which describes Odysseus' encounter with what look like ‘nine-season’ (ἐννεώροισιν) pigs – in fact his comrades, transformed by Circe. One interpretation, which Eustathius prefers, is that ‘nine-season pigs’ (ἐννέωροι σύες) refers to ‘nine-year-olds’ (οἱ ἐνναετεῖς). But an alternative, he says, is to take ἐννέωροι to mean ‘nine of the seasons’ (οἱ ἐννέα ὡρῶν), and so ‘two years and one month’ (ἐτῶν δύο καὶ ἑνὸς μηνός).Footnote 41 This approach seems useless for anyone attempting to make five years equal nine seasons; but it may be further evidence of the sort of mathematical manipulation Homeric scholars engaged in to fix what they took to be contradictions. For example, Aristotle's longest and most complicated extant solution to a Homeric problem is his answer to the following question (reported by Porphyry):
To begin with, the following is agreed to be one of the old inquiries, in which [Homer] says: ‘and the stars have advanced, and more than two parts of the night have passed on, and yet a third part remains’ [Il. 10.252–3]. For how, if these two parts and yet more of them as well have run out, does the third part remain but not part of a third?Footnote 42
Whether Aristotle similarly accepted the challenge and tried to equate five years and nine seasons is impossible to determine, though in Hist. an. 6.21 he attributes to other people the view that five years and nine seasons are the same.
5. Hist. an. 6.28, 578a32–b5: on Il. 9.538–9 and Od. 9.190–1
What follows are two (seemingly) unrelated passages, one describing a wild pig, the other the Cyclops Polyphemus:
The connection between these two passages is entirely accidental: Aristotle's quotation of this description of the wild pig combines parts of both passages. Apparently, his text (of Il. 9.538–40) was different from that of the manuscript tradition (but see n. 44).
In Hist. an. 6.28, Aristotle presents assorted information about wild pigs. Here is the second half of this brief chapter (578a32–b5):
τῶν δ' ἀρρένων καὶ ἀγρίων [sc. ὑῶν] οἱ τομίαι μείζους γίνονται καὶ χαλεπώτεροι, ὥσπερ καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐποίησεν “θρέψεν ἔπι χλούνην σῦν ἄγριον· οὐδὲ ἐῴκει θηρί γε σιτοφάγῳ, ἀλλὰ ῥίῳ ὑλήεντι.” γίνονται δὲ τομίαι διὰ τὸ νέοις οὖσιν ἐμπίπτειν νόσημα κνησμὸν εἰς τοὺς ὄρχεις· εἶτα ξυόμενοι πρὸς τὰ δένδρα ἐκθλίβουσι τοὺς ὄρχεις.
Of the male wild [pigs], the castrated ones become largest and fiercest, as Homer too wrote: ‘[Artemis] reared against [him] a chlounês wild pig: not like a bread-eatingFootnote 43 beast, but like a wooded peak.' They become castrated because an infliction involving itching befalls them, when they are young, in the testicles; then, scratching themselves against trees, they squeeze out their testicles.
That Aristotle's text of the Iliad was different may be an indication that this passage received scholarly attention;Footnote 44 but the major controversy concerned the meaning of χλούνην. To judge from the scholia and from Eustathius, in antiquity other meanings offered for this mysterious word were: ‘solitary’, ‘fierce’, ‘strong’ and ‘living in the wild’.Footnote 45 Aristotle, however, clearly thinks it means ‘castrated’, otherwise his quotation from Homer would be unconnected to his discussion of castrated wild pigs. Little else can be said about the nature of the debate.
6. Hist. an. 7(8).28, 606a18–21: on Od. 4.85
In Odyssey 4, Telemachus is in Sparta to speak with Menelaus, who tells him about the many lands he visited during the Trojan expedition, like Cyprus, Egypt, Ethiopia (85):
In Hist. an. 7(8).28, Aristotle discusses a variety of animal kinds, and how they differ from one location to another. Libya receives a lot of attention. For example (606a18–21):
καὶ ἐν μὲν Λιβύῃ εὐθὺς γίνεται κέρατα ἔχοντα τὰ κερατώδη τῶν κριῶν, οὐ μόνον οἱ ἄρρενες ὥσπερ Ὅμηρός φησιν ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ ἆλλα· ἐν δὲ τῷ Πόντῳ περὶ τὴν Σκυθικὴν τοὐναντίον· ἀκέρατα γὰρ γίνονται.
And in Libya the horned rams are born straightaway having horns – not only the males, as Homer says, but the others as well; whereas in the Pontus, around Scythia, it is the opposite: they are born hornless.
According to the manuscript tradition, Aristotle must be assuming that in the Iliad passage ἄρνες (‘lambs’) refers to males only,Footnote 46 and using τὰ ἆλλα (‘the others’) to refer to female lambs. Many editors have found this problematic.Footnote 47 Bekker therefore emended ἄρρενες to ἄρνες (from Od. 4.85) – a plausible revision accepted by most editors since (Balme being an exception). For this emendation to work, however, κριῶν (‘rams’) must be emended as well. I think the best suggestion is Dittmeyer's κτηνῶν,Footnote 48 which, with τὰ κερατώδη, yields ‘the horned herd animals’. Consequently, τὰ ἆλλα would have to refer to the other horned herd animals, which arguably makes more sense than ‘the females’.Footnote 49 But whether such lingering textual issues reflect ancient debates over the meaning of Od. 4.85 is impossible to determine.
To judge from Hist. an. 7(8).28 and Hdt. 4.29, as well as from the scholia and Eustathius,Footnote 50 the following were the main points of debate or discussion concerning Od. 4.85: (1) Was Menelaus' claim intended to be limited to males or applicable to all lambs? (2) What precisely did Homer mean by ἄφαρ (‘at once’)? Is he saying that Libyan lambs are born with horns, or that they begin to grow horns immediately at birth, or merely that they grow them earlier (and perhaps more quickly) than in other places? (3) What is special or significant about Libya? And (however one answers these questions) (4) is Homer's claim true?
Regarding the third question, the closest Aristotle comes to answering it is to say, in Hist. an. 7(8).28, in connection with all of the differences he has discussed, that the cause in some cases is the food (606a25–6), in others the climate (606b2–3).Footnote 51 He is more explicit about the other issues: Homer's claim about Libyan lambs was accurate, as far as it goes – but he should not have limited the claim to males (or to lambs, depending on how one reads the text). Further, contrasting Libya and Scythia makes clear that Aristotle took Homer to be saying that the animal in question is born with horns; and here too he believed this to be accurate. (Note that Aristotle does not write ‘as some people say’ or the like.) This is a lot to pack into one brief passage, and I find it entirely plausible that these issues were discussed by Aristotle at greater length in his Homeric Puzzles.Footnote 52
7. Hist. an. 8(9).12.615b5–10: on Il. 14.289–91
In Iliad 14, the god Sleep settles in a tree on Mt Ida, in the form of a bird, which, like the river Scamander, has two names (289–91):
Hist. an. 8(9).7–36 is a lengthy set of descriptions of the attributes and behaviour of many kinds of birds. In 8(9).12, Aristotle writes (615b5–10):
ἡ δὲ κύμινδις ὀλιγάκις μὲν φαίνεται, οἰκεῖ γὰρ ὄρη, ἔστι δὲ μέλας καὶ μέγεθος ὅσον ἱέραξ ὁ φασσοφόνος καλούμενος, καὶ τὴν ἰδέαν μακρὸς καὶ λεπτός. κύμινδιν δὲ καλοῦσιν Ἴωνες αὐτόν· ἧς καὶ Ὅμηρος μέμνηται ἐν τῇ Ἰλιάδι εἰπὼν “χαλκίδα κικλήσκουσι θεοί, ἄνδρες δὲ κύμινδιν”.
The kumindis rarely appears, for it dwells in mountains, and it is black and as large as the hawk called the pigeon-killer, and its form is long and narrow. Ionians call it kumindis; indeed, Homer mentions it in the Iliad, saying ‘the gods call [it] chalkis, and men kumindis’.
The ancients may have discussed which bird this in fact is, though there is little evidence about the nature of such a discussion. At Birds 1181, Aristophanes includes it among a group of taloned birds: ‘kestrel, buzzard, vulture, kumindis, eagle’ (κερχνῄς, τριόρχης, γύψ, κύμινδις, αἰετός). One Homeric scholar adds, at the end of a fairly lengthy scholion, τινὲς δὲ τὴν γλαῦκα (‘and some [say it is] the owl’), and this identification is almost certainly correct.Footnote 53 Also discussed was whether the noun κύμινδις was masculine or feminine, though there is no evidence about the precise nature of this debate.Footnote 54
Most of the discussion of this passage centred around why this bird received two names, and especially why it received these two names.Footnote 55 First, the divine name: one plausible suggestion is that the name chalkis comes from its having bronze (χαλκός) colouring.Footnote 56 Another suggestion is that this bird is given ‘the sweet-sounding name [chalkis] by the gods’ (τὸ εὔφωνον ὄνομα τοῖς θεοῖς) and that it ‘is inspired by the Muses’ (ὑπὸ Μουσῶν καταπνεόμενος); but, again, no connection specifically to the name chalkis is indicated.Footnote 57 This same scholiast, however, mentions a couple of mythological explanations that have been offered, and these allow us to make the (or a) connection:
Some say that it is Harpalyce, who had intercourse with her father Clymenus by force, and boiling their son Presbon she served [Presbon] to him. Or that she coupled with Zeus, and Hera turned her into a bird; but she [first] spent time in Chalcis being a human. And some say Chalcis is the mother of the Corybantes.Footnote 58
This passage contains, among the mythology, an actual explanation of the name chalkis: the bird was in some way associated with the city of Chalcis (in Euboea). And if Chalcis (a mythological woman) was mother of the Corybantes, who are connected to music and dancing, that could explain why this is the bird's divine name.
As for the human name: this bird, we are told, is called kumindis either from the sound it makes (which means, I take it, that the name is onomatopoetic),Footnote 59 or because of its connection to sleep (e.g. κοίμημα)Footnote 60 or to concealment (κρύψις).Footnote 61 These last two (false) etymologies are no doubt based on the Homeric passage.
The brief Hist. an. 8(9).12 passage does imply that Aristotle would have taken a stand in the debates on this passage: he claimed to know which bird it is; he described it (however unhelpful that description is now); he may have offered an explanation as to why it had more than one name (though the explanation does not refer to the gods): ‘the Ionians call it kumindis’ (the implication being that other Greeks – and perhaps non-Greeks – called it chalkis). Aristotle defends the accuracy of Homer's account, at least to this extent: Homer places the bird on Mt Ida and has it cover itself behind branches; Aristotle says this kind of bird dwells in the mountains and therefore is rarely seen.
8. Hist. an. 8(9), 32.618b18–30: on Il. 24.315–16
In the final book of the Iliad, Priam prays to Zeus and asks for a bird-omen – ‘dearest of birds, with the greatest power’ (φίλτατος οἰωνῶν, καί εὑ κράτος ἐστὶ μέγιστον, 24.311) – as a sign that he may safely go to Achilles to appeal for Hector's corpse. Zeus responds (315–16):
As we shall see, the key issues in antiquity surrounding this passage were: the identity of this eagle, whether it is identical to other eagles mentioned in the Iliad, why it is called morphnos,Footnote 64 and whether Homer was right in naming it the most powerful eagle.
Aristotle discusses the morphnos in Hist. an. 8(9).32, in his account of the kinds of eagles (618b18–30):
τῶν δ' ἀετῶν ἐστὶ πλείονα γένη, ἓν μὲν ὁ καλούμενος πύγαργος· οὗτος κατὰ τὰ πεδία καὶ τὰ ἄλση καὶ περὶ τὰς πόλεις γίνεται· ἔνιοι δὲ καλοῦσιν νεβροφόνον αὐτόν … ἕτερον δὲ γένος ἀετοῦ ἐστὶν ὃ πλάγγος καλεῖται, δεύτερος μεγέθει καὶ ῥώμῃ· οἰκεῖ δὲ βήσσας καὶ ἄγγη καὶ λίμνας, ἐπικαλεῖται δὲ νηττοφόνος καὶ μορφνός· οὗ καὶ Ὅμηρος μέμνηται ἐν τῇ τοῦ Πριάμου ἐξόδῳ. ἕτερος δὲ μέλας τὴν χρόαν καὶ μέγεθος ἐλάχιστος καὶ κράτιστος τούτων· οὗτος οἰκεῖ ὄρη καὶ ὕλας, καλεῖται δὲ μελανάετος καὶ λαγωφόνος. ἐκτρέφει δὲ μόνος τὰ τέκνα οὗτος καὶ ἐξάγει. ἔστι δ' ὠκυβόλος …
Of the eagles there are many kinds, [1] one is what is called white-rump; this occurs throughout the plains and the groves and the cities; and some call it fawn-killer …Footnote 65 [2] There is another kind of eagle, which is called plangos, second in size and strength; it dwells in valleys and hollows and lakes, and is nicknamed duck-killer and morphnos; and Homer mentions it in the Expedition of Priam.Footnote 66 [3] And another is black in colour and smallest in size and strongest of them; this dwells in mountains and forests and is called black-eagle and hare-killer. This one alone completes the rearing of its young and leads them out. And it is quick-striking …
Aristotle describes three other kinds: dark-winged (περκόπτερος), sea-eagles (ἁλιαετοί) and true-breds (γνησίους); the true-bred is ‘the largest of all of the eagles’ (μέγιστος τῶν ἀετῶν ἀπάντων) (618b31–619a12). So, of the six kinds of eagles, Aristotle identifies the morphnos – the one Homer mentions in Iliad 24 – with the plangos (also known as the duck-killer). Aristotle may also be correcting Homer: the morphnos is not the most powerful; the third is.Footnote 67
Porphyry makes it clear that Il. 24.315–16 was a topic of discussion among Homeric scholars, and particularly the identity of the eagle mentioned therein:
It was questioned what sort of eagle Homer mentions here [i.e. Il. 24.315–16]: the white-rump or the AphroditeFootnote 68 or [the] dusky – about which he speaks in Iliad 10Footnote 69 – and again, [the one] ‘with the swoops of the black eagle, the hunter’, about which he speaks in Iliad 21. But this is the same, called morphnos by name, and it too is black, about which Aristotle says ‘black in colour and smallest in size and strongest; it dwells in mountains and forests and is called black-eagle and hare-killer; and it is quick-striking.’Footnote 70
Porphyry equates the morphnos of Iliad 24 with the eagle referred to in Iliad 21; and this is plausible. He then goes on to identify this eagle with the third one mentioned by Aristotle (whereas Aristotle identifies it with the second). One explanation is that Porphyry is confused. But I think it is just as likely that he is indicating his disagreement with Aristotle on this issue, and using Aristotle's own discussion to attempt to refute him – on the grounds that the third is black (see Il. 21.252) and the strongest, whereas Aristotle's choice is ‘second in size and strength’ and its colour is not specified.
One might argue that the fact that Porphyry quotes from the History of Animals, and not from the Homeric Puzzles (which he quotes or paraphrases often), implies that Aristotle did not discuss this issue in the latter. But that does not follow. Aristotle could have written about the eagle of Iliad 24 in both works: a fuller presentation of the problem and his solution in the Homeric Puzzles, but a very different presentation – with a passing reference to Homer (perhaps lifted straight from his Homeric Puzzles) – in his account of eagles in the History of Animals.
9. Hist. an. 8(9).44, 629b21–4: on Il. 11.552–4 & Il. 17.661–3
Homer twice in the Iliad uses identical lines to describe a lion, which in turn is used as a metaphor in two different contexts: once to describe Ajax responding to the attack of the Trojans (11.551–3), and once to describe Menelaus, frustrated in his pursuit of Patroclus (17.661–3):Footnote 71
In Hist. an. 8(9).44, Aristotle commences a discussion of ‘the characters of animals’ (τὰ ἤθη τῶν ζώτων), for instance courage and cowardice (what would be ethical virtues or vices in humans). He begins with a long account of lions, which includes the following (629b21–4):
ἀληθῆ δὲ καὶ τὰ λεγόμενα, τό τε φοβεῖσθαι μάλιστα τὸ πῦρ, ὥσπερ καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐποίησεν “καιόμεναί τε δεταί, τάς τε τρεῖ ἐσσύμενός περ”, καὶ τὸ τὸν βάλλοντα τηρήσαντα ἵεσθαι ἐπὶ τοῦτον.
What is said [about the lion] is true, both that what it fears most of all is fire – as indeed Homer portrayed: ‘and the flaming torches, and these he shrinks from despite his zeal’ – and that it watches the man throwing [the spear] and rushes at that one.
There was discussion in antiquity of the meaning of unusual words in this Homeric passage, and especially δεταί (= λαμπάδες, ‘torches’).Footnote 72 And there was debate over the propriety (in Iliad 11) of comparing Ajax first to a lion (548–57), and then straightaway to a donkey (558–62).Footnote 73 But I have discovered no evidence (aside from the Hist. an. passage itself) that there might have been discussion concerning the accuracy of Homer's account of lions and their fear of fire. All one can do further is speculate that, if Aristotle did take part in such a discussion or debate, he offered a straightforward defence of Homer.
10. Part. an. 3.10, 673a10–17: on Il. 10.457 and Od. 22.329
The following line is found once each in the Iliad and the Odyssey to describe a decapitation in battle – in the one case, Diomedes killing Dolon (Il. 10.457), in the other, Odysseus killing Leodes (Od. 22.329):
In the course of his discussion of the diaphragm or midriff (ὑπόζωμα, φρένες), in Part. an. 3.10, Aristotle quotes this Homeric line, dismissing one interpretation of it (673a10–17):
συμβαίνειν δέ φασι καὶ περὶ τὰς ἐν τοῖς πολέμοις πληγὰς εἰς τὸν τόπον τὸν περὶ τὰς φρένας γέλωτα διὰ τὴν ἐκ τῆς πληγῆς γινομένην θερμότητα. τοῦτο γὰρ μᾶλλόν ἐστιν ἀξιοπίστων ἀκοῦσαι λεγόντων ἢ τὸ περὶ τὴν κεφαλήν, ὡς ἀποκοπεῖσα φθέγγεται τῶν ἀνθρώπων. λέγουσι γάρ τινες ἐπαγόμενοι καὶ τὸν Ὅμηρον, ὡς διὰ τοῦτο ποιήσαντος· “φθεγγομένη δ' ἄρα τοῦ γε κάρη κονίῃσιν ἐμίχθη”· ἀλλ' οὐ, “φθεγγομένου”.Footnote 74
They say laughter also results in the case of blows to the area around the midriff in battle, owing to the heat coming from the blow. In fact those saying this are more trustworthy to listen to than the people telling the one about the head, which, having been cut off, speaks. For some even bring in Homer, saying that because of this he wrote: ‘while it was speaking, his head was mixed with the dust’ – but not ‘while he was speaking’.
Aristotle is willing to accept some anecdotal evidence about certain blows received in battle producing unexpected sounds (blows to the midriff producing laughter), but there are limits to what ought to be believed: for instance, a severed head continuing to talk.
Aristotle was aware of the received text and a proposed emendation: φθεγγομένου and φθεγγομένη. He defends the former (which is the reading of the manuscripts) on the grounds that this one alone saves Homer from an unacceptable impossibility. (It should be mentioned that even the text that Aristotle favours is often misinterpreted as referring to a talking severed head.)Footnote 75 But whereas the subject of φθεγγομένη would (it was claimed) have to be the head (κάρη),Footnote 76 the subject of φθεγγομένου could (grammatically) be either the killer or the killed, which makes possible a more plausible reading (from the viewpoint of anatomy, according to Aristotle): ‘while he [Diomedes/Odysseus] was speaking, the head [of Dolon/of Leodes] mixed in the dust’.
To judge from the scholia and Eustathius, however, there were attempts in antiquity to defend the portrayal of a severed head talking, given the context of both scenes and on the grounds of what was taken to be the nature of the mechanics of human speech. One scholiast claimed that φθεγγομένου refers to the beginning of speech, when the sound is first released but before it has becomes articulate speech.Footnote 77 Eustathius (or the unknown scholars whose views he is reporting) stresses that, in both cases, the victim was not killed in active combat, but was on his knees in supplication (οὐ μαχόμενος ἀλλὰ γουνούμενος); and, recognizing that the end might well be near, the victim was hyper-talkative (ὑπερλαλήσαντος) in appealing for his life. In this context, at least, the argument runs, it is plausible that the flow of words begun before the decapitation could continue briefly afterwards.Footnote 78 Such interpretations receive support, some thought, from the nature of human anatomy. For instance: ‘the breath goes up to the mouth and filling it pours out, and yet the head has been cut [off], such that – the tongue still being moved – the head lying below seems to speak’.Footnote 79
I think it probable that, contemporary with Aristotle, when the decapitation line was discussed, this sort of appeal to anatomy was already being deployed in defence of Homer. Aristotle would likely have had something to say about that. Or, alternatively, Aristotle got this line of argument started by appealing to human anatomy in defence of his own interpretation (against the talking severed head), and others tried to respond in kind. In any case, Aristotle clearly thought that a talking severed head was an impossibility not justified by the plot of the Iliad or other aesthetic considerations. I would speculate that he thought such a spectacle is more comical than grand, and would have undercut the seriousness appropriate to epic. Rather than criticize the line, however, he (correctly) interpreted Homer in a way that saved him from criticism.
11. Gen. an. 5.5, 785a11–16: on Il. 8.83–4
In Iliad 8, Homer describes an arrow striking Nestor's horse. The animal was struck (83–4)
In Gen. an. 5.5, continuing a discussion of grey hair in men, Aristotle turns to why such a change in hair colour is not (as?) evident in other animals. The reason, Aristotle says, is that their brains are smaller and less fluid than those of humans. He adds (785a11–6):
τοῖς δ' ἵπποις πάντων ἐπισημαίνει μάλιστα ὧν ἴσμεν ζῴων ὅτι λεπτότατον τὸ ὀστοῦν ὡς κατὰ μέγεθος ἔχουσι τὸ περὶ τὸν ἐγκέφαλον τῶν ἄλλων. τεκμήριον δ' ὅτι καίριος ἡ πληγὴ εἰς τὸν τόπον τοῦτον γίγνεται αὐτοῖς· διὸ καὶ Ὅμηρος οὕτως ἐποίησεν· “ἵνα τε πρῶται τρίχες ἵππων κρανίῳ ἐμπεφύασι, μάλιστα δὲ καίριόν ἐστιν”.Footnote 80
Of all the animals that we know of, this is most marked in horses, because the bone they have surrounding the brain is much thinner in proportion to size than that of other [animals]. Proof is that a blow to this spot is mortal to them; and this is why Homer portrayed [a horse being killed] in this way: ‘where the first hairs of horses grow on the skull, and it is especially mortal’.
So far as the surviving evidence suggests, this passage did not generate much discussion among ancient scholars.Footnote 81 Eustathius indicates that some debated whether πρῶται τρίχες (‘the first hairs’) refers to the horse's mane (χαίτη) or to its frontal tuft of hair (προκόμιον), though he thinks it is clearly the latter – as did the D-scholiast before him.Footnote 82 There may also have been discussion of why this part of the head was so vulnerable.Footnote 83
CONCLUSION
In conclusion, I wish to say a few words about the relative dates of the Homeric Puzzles and the biological works (especially the History of Animals), then summarize the roles played by the Homeric passages in the biological works, and finally speculate about a possible connection between these passages and the Homeric Puzzles.
Stephen Halliwell, in a discussion of the date of the Poetics, wisely comments: ‘Aristotelian chronology is a minefield from which the prudent keep their distance.’Footnote 84 I plan to take a few tentative steps into this minefield – safely stepping only where others have trodden – in the hope of making some progress in discovering the relationship, if there is one, between Aristotle's Homeric Puzzles and his biological works.
David Balme has made a strong case for the History of Animals having been written after the other biological treatises, and (more tentatively) for Aristotle having begun that work during his Lesbos period (around 344 b.c.).Footnote 85 Elsewhere he writes that the History of Animals ‘remains unfinished, with evidence that new items were constantly being added’.Footnote 86
For Aristotle's poetical works, Halliwell's brief appendix on the date of the Poetics provides an excellent analysis of all of the evidence, with proper caution against any but the most tentative conclusions – which he offers as follows:
I would tentatively suggest that the Poetics has its roots in Aristotle's early thought, the period of his direct contact with the wonderful stimulus of Plato's passionate moralism, and that it actually contains some material first drafted before 347; but that it also received later attention from the philosopher.Footnote 87
On the relationship between Poetics 25 and the Homeric Problems (as he calls it), he writes:
Poetics 25 has the look of being a compressed summary of an already worked out scheme of problems and their solutions. But I am not aware of any clear evidence for the date of the Homeric Problems … The Homeric Problems, containing a mass of material on a very large number of issues, would in any case appear a peculiarly suitable work to have been compiled over a protracted period of time.Footnote 88
It would not be overly speculative to claim that Aristotle began both his study of animals and his Homeric Puzzles relatively early in his career (or at least not late in it), and that he worked on both continually, over a long stretch of time, and conceivably at the same time (at least some of the time). Or to put it another way: there is no reason to think that one of these works was written before the other, in any meaningful sense, and certainly not that one – the Homeric Puzzles, say – was shelved and forgotten by the time Aristotle began his work in biology.
If Aristotle was working on his biological works and the Homeric Puzzles at the same time or during the same period, then it is perhaps less surprising that he would refer, in the former, to Homer and Homeric scholars. But what purpose do these passages serve? And why do so many (relative to the rest of the corpus) appear in the History of Animals?
In five of the eleven passages that I have examined, Homer himself is quoted or cited in support of the point Aristotle is making: Hist. an. 3.3, 513b24–8 (on the great vessel); Hist. an. 6.28, 578b1 (on castrated wild pigs); Hist. an. 7(8).28, 606a18–21 (on Libyan lambs); Hist. an. 8(9).44, 629b21–4 (on the lion's fear of fire); and Gen. an. 5.5, 785a11–16 (on the skull of horses).Footnote 89 In one of these passages (on wild pigs), the support from Homer requires or implies an interpretation of the meaning of the cryptic word χλούνην; in another (on Libyan lambs) the support is conditional, in that it requires that Homer be partially corrected.
In three passages, what some people say about Homer is cited in support of the point Aristotle is making: Hist. an. 3.12, 519a18–20 (on waters producing change in colour); Hist. an. 6.20, 574b29–575a1 (on the age of female dogs); and Hist. an. 6.21, 575b4–7 (on when a bull is in its prime).Footnote 90 In none of these cases is it made clear whether Aristotle agrees with the opinion presented (though perhaps we should assume that if he had agreed he would simply have cited Homer).
In the remaining three passages, the Homeric citation does not (and I assume was not meant to) support Aristotle's claim, and so its purpose is unclear: Hist. an. 8(9), 12.615b5–10 (on the bird kumindis); Hist. an. 8(9), 32.618b18–30 (on the eagle in Iliad 24); Part. an. 3.10, 673a10–17 (on a severed head speaking).Footnote 91 In this third case, Aristotle takes the opportunity to criticize an opinion some had about Homer; and his purpose might have been to remind the reader (or listener) that there are limits to what anecdotal evidence he is willing to take seriously. But in the first two cases, Aristotle merely states that the bird he is discussing is mentioned in Homer, and so I do not see what purpose these passages serve (aside from adding colour to a biology lecture).
David Balme noted that one significant difference between the History of Animals and the rest of the biology is the abundance of references to expert opinion: ‘The other treatises contain little specialist knowledge, whereas Hist. an. quotes extensively from fishermen, stock farmers, bee keepers, eel breeders, bird fanciers, etc.’Footnote 92 For example, midway through Hist. an. 8(9).40, Aristotle's long chapter on bees, he provides an account of animals that are a threat: wasps, three kinds of birds (titmouse, swallow and bee-eater), frogs and toads (626a7–b1). He mentions that the bee-keepers (οἱ μελισσεῖς) hunt the frogs and remove the wasps' nests and the nests of the swallows and bee-eaters that are nearby (626a9–13). He ends this account (626a30–b1):
ἀπόλλυσι δὲ καὶ ὁ φρῦνος τὰς μελίττας· ἐπὶ τὰς εἰσόδους γὰρ ἐλθὼν φυσᾷ τε καὶ ἐπιτηρῶν ἐκπετομένας κατεσθίει· ὑπὸ μὲν οὖν τῶν μελιττῶν οὐδὲν δύναται κακὸν πάσχειν, ὁ δ' ἐπιμελόμενος τῶν σμηνῶν κτείνει αὐτόν.
The toad too destroys bees; for coming to the entrances [of the hives] it blows, and looking out for them it eats them as they fly out. Now it can suffer no harm from the bees, but the man tending the hives kills it.
I think it is safe to assume that the reports from beekeepers do not merely confirm certain conclusions Aristotle came to independently; they are likely his source for that information. Similarly, consider this account of the anthias, a kind of fish (Hist. an. 8(9).37, 620b33–5):
ὅπου δ' ἂν ἀνθίας ᾖτ οὐκ ἔστι θηρίον· ᾧ καὶ σημείῳ χρώμενοι κατακολυμβῶσιν οἱ σπογγεῖς, καὶ καλοῦσιν ἱεροὺς ἰχθῦς τούτους.
Wherever the anthias is, there is no beast [i.e. shark]; and the sponge-divers use it as a sign that they can dive, and so they call these sacred fish.
Again, it is highly likely that information about the anthias gained from interviewing sponge-divers does not merely confirm this account, but makes it possible – is its source.
That Aristotle relies on specialist knowledge more in the History of Animals than he does in the other biological works might explain why this work contains far more references to Homer or Homeric scholars. But these citations are generally quite different from the reports from other specialists. The eight Homer-references that support the point Aristotle makes merely offer opinions that act as a kind of independent confirmation. They add no new information. For example, recall these two passages:
The vessel extending to the vertebra of the throat and to the backbone extends back again along the backbone, which indeed Homer presented in these lines, saying: ‘he cut through all the vessel which runs up the back continuously till it reaches the neck’. (Hist. an. 3.3, 513b24–8)
Of the Laconian dogs the male lives about ten years, the female about twelve, whereas of the other dogs most of the females live around fourteen or fifteen years, but some even twenty. And this is why some believe Homer correctly portrays the dog of Odysseus dying in the twentieth year. (Hist. an. 6.20, 574b29–575a1)
In all eleven cases, one could remove the reference to Homer or what people say about a Homeric passage, and the point Aristotle is making would remain intact. None of them (even those that offer some support) is essential to Aristotle's discussion; none is tightly integrated to the context in which it appears. This is especially true of the three passages that mention Homer, but offer Aristotle no support. And note that in one passage that does offer some support (Hist. an. 6.21, 575b4–7, on when a bull is in its prime), Aristotle mentions – completely unnecessarily, in the context of that chapter – that people say that in Homer ‘five years’ and ‘nine months’ could be the same.
Most of the Homer-references could well be excerpts from somewhere else – information plucked from another source, in which they are a much better fit. But what source? I think there are two possibilities. First, Aristotle's notebooks. Allan Gotthelf explains that
the full Aristotelian scientific inquiry must be thought of as having three stages: the collection of data, the organization of data, and the explanation of data … There is no surviving treatise at [the collection] stage. This is the notebook stage, where Aristotle records observations and reports, evaluates them, deciding which to accept and which to reject; looks for shared features across different kinds; etc.Footnote 93
Second, the six or more books of the Homeric Puzzles.Footnote 94
Of course, I cannot rule out in every case the possibility that Aristotle copied relevant passages directly from (his memory of) the Homeric epics into his notebooks or into the specific biological treatise; and in some cases perhaps that is what he did. (I mention a couple of examples shortly.) But I think that, based on the evidence I have provided, in all eleven cases it is at least possible that the source was the Homeric Puzzles – that Aristotle was, directly or indirectly, drawing on that work.Footnote 95 Moreover, in every case the discussion of animals is more helpful in interpreting Homer than the citations from Homer or Homeric scholars are in illuminating some point about biology. That is, for example, his observations-based discussion of the age of dogs is more helpful and ‘at home’ in a discussion of the age of Odysseus' dog Argos than the reference to what some say about the age of Argos is in the History of Animals' account of the longevity of dogs. This is suggestive.
Now in two cases only do I think the possibility of a connection to the Homeric Puzzles is slight: (9) Hist. an. 8(9).44, 629b21–4 (on the lion's fear of fire) and (11) Gen. an. 5.5, 785a11–16 (on the skull of horses). These passages would not, I think, be worth considering if not for the other Homeric passages and for the fact that Aristotle wrote a Homeric Puzzles. In these two, Aristotle does not refer to what others say about the passage, and there is no evidence of any complications in the text of Homer and little evidence of any debate in antiquity. If these were the only references to Homer in the biology, I would assume that they came from Aristotle's intimate knowledge of Homeric epic (though I would still wonder why he included them).
But I do not think one should say the same about the other nine passages: with these, there is a higher probability that they came not simply from Aristotle's knowledge of the Homeric epics, but from his sustained work on the epics in the context of ancient Homeric scholarship. There are more complexities involved, and there is more evidence that the passages were the subject of debate in antiquity. I believe that that is clear from my discussion of them. And if I had to name passages that I thought went beyond the possibility of coming from the Homeric Puzzles and rose to the level of probability, I would mention these three: (3) Hist. an. 6.20, 574b29–575a1 (on the longevity of Odysseus' dog Argos), (8) Hist. an. 8(9), 32.618b18–30 (on the morphnos eagle of Iliad 24) and (10) Part. an. 3.10, 673a10–17 (on a severed head speaking).
If I am right, then the biological works, and especially the History of Animals, give us further insights (beyond the ‘fragments’ and Poetics 25) into the nature of the Homeric Puzzles – and particularly into some of the puzzles Aristotle likely addressed, and in some cases how he might have solved them.Footnote 96 The passages I have examined also confirm what we know from the other sources: that Aristotle respected and revered Homer, and sought whenever possible to defend him, but that this reverence did not amount to uncritical approval.
APPENDIX: THE CORPSE-EATING FISH OF ILIAD 21
In Iliad 21, while Achilles is slaughtering Trojans alongside the Scamander River, he encounters Lycaon, who pleads for his life. Achilles ignores his plea, kills him, and then tosses his corpse into the river, declaring (126–7):
The discussion of these verses in the first book of Porphyry's Homeric Questions on the Iliad contains the only quote from or paraphrase of Aristotle in the part of this work that survives in manuscript form,Footnote 98 and its source is not the Homeric Puzzles:
εἰ δ' “ὑπαλύξει” γράφοιτο, φησὶ Πολύκλειτος τὸν νοῦν τοιοῦτον ἔσεσθαι· καταδύσεται μὲν εἰς τὸ βάθος τοῦ κύματος ὁ ἰχθῦς φεύγων τῆς φρίκης τὴν ψυχρότητα. καὶ γὰρ αὐτῷ πολεμιώτατον· τοῦ γοῦν χειμῶνος ἐκ τοῦ πελάγους εἰς τὴν γῆν καταίρουσι. πολλοὺς δὲ αὐτῶν καὶ φωλεύειν κατὰ βάθους διὰ τὴν αὐτὴν αἰτίαν ἱστορεῖ καὶ Ἀριστοτέλης ἐν τῷ ζʹ Περὶ ζώων φύσεως· ψυχροτάτη δ' ἡ φρίκη, καὶ μάλιστα ἂν βόρειος ᾖ. γενόμενος δ' ἐν τῷ βάθει τοῦ Λυκάονος ἔδεται τὸ λίπος. (§8, pp. 42–3 Sodano)
But if ‘ὑπαλύξει’ was written, PolycleitusFootnote 99 says that the intention will be this: the fish will plunge to the depths below the waves, escaping the cold of the rippling-water. Indeed, [the cold] is quite hostile to it; at least, in winter [fish] move in from out of the open sea towards the land. Aristotle, in Book 6 [or 7]Footnote 100 of On the Nature of Animals, reports that many of them even hide in the depths for the same reason: the rippling-water is quite cold, and especially if it is northern.Footnote 101 And being in the depths it will eat the fat of Lycaon.
Neither Rose (3rd edn) nor Gigon include this text in their collections of fragments, and for good reason:Footnote 102 this is almost certainly a reference to Aristotle's History of Animals (Τῶν περὶ τὰ ζῶα ἱστοριῶν), for the seventh bookFootnote 103 includes a discussion of fish hibernating, especially in winter (see Hist. an. 7[8].15).Footnote 104 Although it is unclear as presented whether the reference to the fish eating the fat of Lycaon was meant to be part of the report from On the Nature of Animals, there is no reason to think that Aristotle wrote a work with this title, in which he discussed the corpse-eating fish of Iliad 21.
