The Aithiopika by Heliodorus

General:

Thought to have been written in either the third century, or late fourth century, by a
writer about whom little is known, except that which can be deduced from the story
itself. J.R.Morgan refers to the report by the ecclesiastical historian Soktrates to say
that Heliodorus was, ‘a Christian bishop at Trikka in Thessaly who enforced celibacy
on his clergy.’ Morgan goes on to point out that Byzantine historians tell that
Heiodorus was forced to choose between ‘disowning the novel of his youth and
resigning his see: romantically he chose the latter.’ The prestige of the Aithiopika has,
it seems, dwindled over the years, having been at one time ‘ranked alongside Homer
and Virgil’. Morgan suggests that the reason for this fall from grace lies in its
perception by recent centuries as, ‘too artificial, too precious..’

Plot Summary:

The plot is vast and by no means straightforward. It is primarily told in a non-

sequential manner by various internal narrators, and stitched together by the actions
and events described via the meta-narration of the author. As the pace quickens
towards the end, the author sustains a more linear form, as many of the strands come
together. This does not mean however, that there ceases to be room for surprises.
Throughout the work the reader is reminded that every person and action has
significance and will somehow play a part in the overall outcome.

Briefly then, the story concerns a pair of lovers who face all manner of difficulties in
succeeding in being together. They pass through the hands of various bandits and
rulers of nations, are separated and reunited, become in embroiled in the politics of
families and the wars of nations, to eventually end up in Ethiopia, destined to be
sacrificed to the gods. Through the revelation of the girl’s secret heritage and the
concatenation of various events the lovers are freed and able to marry at last, so
ending the work on a satisfying and celebratory note.

Quotations Exposing Narrative Features:

1. Size

As Morgan says,

‘..the most obvious fact about it is its length. This is a work on an altogether grander scale than any
other extant Greek novel, a work whose structure and execution express an ambition to be considered
at the highest level.’ (Reardon, B.P., Ed., Collected Ancient Greek Novels. California: CUP, 1989,
pp.349.)

The author is fully aware of how long and convoluted his tale is and humorously plays
with the fact via his characters and their attitudes to hearing long tales,

‘ “The last thing I want to do, Knemon,” replied Kalasiris, “is to bore you with such irrelevancies, so I
was confining myself to the central theme of my tale and the answers to your original questions. But
your interest in incidental spectacle only confirms my impression that you are a true Athenian!..”’ (Ibid.
pp.409)

Overall the author is confident in the quality of his tale to entertain such that its great
length should be considered a boon,

‘ “I cannot agree with Homer, Father, when he says that there is satiety of all things, including love. In
my estimation, one can never have a surfeit of love, whether one is engaged in its pleasures or listening
to tales of it. And if the story being told is the love of Theagenes and Charikleia, who could be so
insensitive, so steely-hearted, that he would not be spellbound by the tale, even if it lasted a whole
year? So please continue.”’ (Ibid. pp.426)

2. Accuracy

Heliodorus was at pains to set his story in a verifiably real world, one in which the
events that unfold could have happened without hindrance by gross geographical,
physical or even political errors. As such, the work is laden with such scenic detail as
the following description of a section of the Nile,

‘There was a sort of promontory in the bank of the Nile, where the water, prevented from flowing
straight ahead, meandered through a semicircle, until it returned to a point in line with the place where
the detour began […] Here Bagoas and his men made their camp, the canopy of the trees serving them
as a tent.’ (Ibid. pp.532)

Unfortunately, this desire for authenticity at times leads Heliodorus to make mistakes,
as when his desire to locate his fictions in a believable world puts familiarity
before anachronism. In this example the reference to the Monument of the
Epicureans in Athens serves the purpose of audience appreciation at the expense
of accuracy, for the dramatic date of the plot as evinced from the political
references made throughout contradicts the existence of a monument that
existed much later,
‘ ‘ “You know where the Monument of the Epicureans is?” she said. “Go there this evening and wait
for me.”’’ (Ibid. pp. 367)

3. Theatricality

Throughout the novel Heliodorus makes use of stage related concepts as a means of
expressing the dramatic effects of the plot. As such it is easy to imagine the book
working as a play, or indeed, a contemporary film.

‘So without a moment’s delay they led them away, after mounting them on horseback, Bagoas because
he was hurt, Theagenes and Charikleia because their chains made them unable to keep up with the
rapid pace that was set. The scene was like the preliminary appearance and introduction of the
characters in the theatre before the play begins:..’ (Ibid. pp. 535)

In the next example we see a very popular device for Heliodorus, that of the
comparing the unexpected appearance (or disappearance) of a character to the effect
produced by a piece of stage equipment, such a mechanical crane. It is interesting to
note that he puts the comparison into the mouth of his character, as opposed to
imposing the thought from an objective point of view,
‘Charikleia was astounded. “It is not possible, Knemon!” she said. “How can someone suddenly be
spirited away by a sort of theatrical special effect, out of the heart of Greece to the remotest parts of
Egypt? (Ibid. pp.383)

4. Narrator as Tantalizer

Heliodorus goes about telling his tale from the position of an all-knowing narrator
who gives up information to his reader as it is revealed to his characters. We know
that the narrator knows, but the narrator is not telling, except via obtuse hints that are
directly comparable with the dreams and prophecies experienced by the characters
within the story. The narrator’s hints are as open to misinterpretation as the oracles
experienced by the characters prove to be. We are led along by the presentation of
effects of which we don’t know the cause, and causes that we don’t realize are going
to have the effects they do. In this first example, found at the very beginning of the
story, we are given a mass of details to try and interpret and unravel. It will take us, as
readers, the length of the entire novel to fully understand this opening picture.

‘…a group of men in brigand gear….This is what they saw: a merchant ship was riding there, moored
by her stern, empty of crew but laden with freight [...] But the beach! – a mass of newly slain bodies,
some of them quite dead, others half-alive and still twitching, testimony to the fighting that had only
just ended. […] There were tables still set with food, and others upset on the ground […] They stood on
the mountainside like the audience in a theatre, unable to comprehend the scene..’ (Ibid. pp.353-4)

And so we too watch as the audience, as perplexed as the brigands. At least we will
have the opportunity to discover the whole truth by following the mazy course of the
book, an opportunity the brigands are never allowed. The next example shows the
writer’s approach of hinting at his omniscience as a means of tantalizing the reader, a
technique which can be infuriating given the otherwise naturalistic revelation of
information in the story.

‘…strangers in a foreign land, prisoners in chains who a moment ago had been haunted by a vision of
their own violent death, were now being sent not so much led as escorted in captive state, guarded by
those who were soon to be their subjects. Such was the position of Theagenes and Charikleia..’ (Ibid.
pp.535)

In this last example, Heliodorus as puppet-master plays his full hand, revealing an
objective perception of the fictitious events as ‘story’, (with its wholeness still to be
discovered), and giving this perception through the words of his protagonist, to
emphasize the separation of creator, created and audience.

‘But Charikleia replied: “My darling, great ends can only be achieved by means of equal greatness. A
story whose beginnings heaven has made convoluted cannot be quickly resolved. In particular it may
be dangerous to reveal abruptly things that the passing years have made obscure, especially when the
central figure of our entire story, the key to the whole tangled web of complexity and recognition, is
missing…’ (Ibid. pp.555)

5. The Ambiguous Nature of Religion

Religion plays a prominent part in the work, but its status in the author’s eyes is
opaque. Certainly as Morgan points out, its presence in the tale is not to serve any
evangelical purpose, it is “..to give the plot a sense of direction, purpose and eventual
closure, rather than a statement of belief to instruct..” (Ibid. pp.351) But more than
this it could be seen that the author raises some general issues with pagan religions as
a whole via his emphasis on the human element of supposedly supernatural
interventions, the outright immorality of certain necromantic practices and ultimately
the rejection out of hand of human sacrifice as a form of worship. Perhaps Heliodorus
had something of an agenda to teach after all? Here follow a few examples of
Heliodorus’s presentation and use of religious practices to both further the plot and, to
my mind, suggest his own opinions.

‘ “Having secured our privacy, I launched into a sort of stage performance, producing clouds of incense
smoke, pursing my lips and muttering some sounds that passed for prayers, waving the laurel up and
down […] for all the world like some old bedlam.”’ (Ibid. pp.427)

‘Before Kalasiris could finish, the corpse spoke, its voice a hoarse whisper, sinister and cavernous, as if
rising from some infernal abyss.
“Till now I have been merciful to you mother,” it said. “I tolerated your transgression of the law of
man’s nature, your affront to the ordinances of destiny, your use of the black arts to move the
immovable, for even in the afterlife we continue to respect our parents so far as we may. But […] not
content with the first sin of compelling a dead body to stand upright and nod its head, you are taking
your sinfulness to the extreme of extorting speech from me as well.”’ (Ibid. pp.487)

‘ “Sire,” replied Sisimithres, […] “it seems that a surfeit of joy can cloud even the most intelligent of
minds. You ought to have realised long ago that the gods have no desire for the sacrifice you are
making ready to offer: […]Let us not be blind to the miracles the gods have wrought; let us not thwart
their purpose; let us abolish human sacrifice forevermore and hold to purer forms of offering!”’
(Ibid.pp.587)

6. Comparisons

The Aithiopika abounds with references to other writers both directly, as in the
discussion of the religious interpretation of Homer, and indirectly, as in the echoing of
numerous phrases and expressions from diverse works. I myself was struck by the
number of Old Testament parallels that could be drawn from the text: Potiphar’s
wife’s attempt to seduce Joseph as compared to Arsake’s of Theagenes; or again, the
climactic delivery of Charikleia for sacrifice by her father recalling Abraham’s
bringing of Isaac to be made an offering to the Lord. Whilst the significance and
interpretation are different, the basic patterns are similar.