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ABSTRACT
This paper considers the figure of the realised or hypothetical effeminised
male in Homer’s Iliad , and discusses the impact of effeminacy upon idealised
masculine identity in the epic. The idea of effeminacy in the Iliad is explored
alongside several related but distinct concepts, such as cowardice, child-
ishness, dress, physical appearance and battle-field rebukes and insults. The
second half of this paper addresses more specifically the figure of Paris and
the comparisons drawn between Paris and his brother Hektor. I argue that
actualised or hypothetical effeminacy is constructed in the Iliad in order to
define, by contrast, a ‘proper’ masculinity, founded on concepts of martial
fortitude and civic responsibility, thoroughly antithetical to the ‘other’ which
the effeminised male symbolises.
Despite the growth in scholarship on the ideas of gender and identity in the
Homeric epics, it is somewhat surprising that the concept of effeminacy as it
pertains to the Iliad (or to epic generally) has received no large-scale
treatment.1 The Iliad is a poem deeply concerned with masculinity, a poem
which repeatedly asks its audience what it means to be a ‘man’. And yet, if
we are to try to conceptualise the dynamics of epic masculinity in the Iliad , I
suggest that it is useful and informative to examine the ‘other’, the man who
breaks the rules of masculinity and whose transgressions and excesses help
define ideal masculinity by providing a contrast against which the identity of
the ‘real’ man can be established. This effeminised man need not exist – but
there is an ever-present spectre of effeminacy that sits within the psychology,
the speech and the actions of the Homeric hero. In this article I wish to
examine the (real or hypothetical) effeminised man in the Iliad , focusing on
rebukes and insults, and the figure of Paris and the way in which his
characterisation is defined by contrast with his brother Hektor. I wish to
establish the idea that the concept of effeminacy is posited as ‘other’ in the
Iliad in order to construct the framework within which ‘proper’ epic
masculinity can operate. I will also look at some other related concepts of
‘otherness’ as they pertain to the construction of epic masculinity in the Iliad ,
* I would like to thank Elizabeth Minchin and Claire Jamset for their guidance on earlier
versions of this article. Later drafts were read by Paul Roche, Lindsay Watson and Elizabeth
Minchin, and their input is greatly appreciated. I would also like to thank Antichthon ’s
anonymous readers for their very useful comments and suggestions. For all remaining
deficiencies, I alone am to blame.
1
For the purposes of this article, I define effeminacy as the concept of a male being, acting,
speaking or seeming feminine or womanlike.
35
Antichthon 45 (2011) 35-57
36 Christopher Ransom
such as the ambiguous nature of male physical beauty, and the light this
sheds on both the characterisation of the effeminate male and on the portrayal
of masculine identity generally.
As the Iliad is a poem set in and around conflict, and as it involves such a
high percentage of direct speech, it is not surprising that insults, rebukes and
exhortations are common.2 To begin my discussion of effeminacy in the
poem, I will address rebukes and exhortations which lay charges of male
effeminacy, or in some way involve a counterpoint between the masculine
and the feminine. The simplest of these types of comments comes from
Thersites at Il. 2.235:
(‘you weaklings, poor disgraces, women, no longer men, of Achaia’) 3
and from Menelaos at Il. 7.96-8:
!
" $
# %
h me! You boasters, you women, no longer men, of Achaia!
Indeed this will be a matter for reproach, and shameful above all shame,
if none of the Danaans will now go face to face against Hektor.
Both examples, by explicitly effeminising the addressees, essentially accuse
the army of cowardice.4 Thersites calls the Greeks ‘women’, and tells them
that they should return home in their ships, and no longer allow Agamemnon
to lead them. In the second example, Menelaos rebukes the Achaians after no
one has answered Hektor’s challenge. Effeminacy is linked to shame in this
passage; if acting like a coward is a cause for shame, and prompts Menelaos
to call the Achaians ‘women’, then effeminacy is seen as shameful in the
context of the poem.5 The fact that Menelaos calls them
(‘boasters’) is also important. Their boastfulness is juxtaposed with their
inactivity; thus words are thematically set against action.
In the Iliad , childishness and effeminacy are often referred to in order to
define masculine identity. Women and children are naturally not operative in
the adult male world of warfare, and so can be clearly classified as ‘other’
within the martial sphere of battlefield insults. Masculine identity cannot be
formed in a vacuum, and so the feminine or the childish is posited as ‘other’
2
E. Minchin, Homeric Voices: D iscourse, Memory and Gend er (Oxford 2007) 151, gives a
useful table of the 35 occurrences of rebukes she identifies in the Iliad .
3
All translations are my own. The text is Monro and Allen’s 1920 3rd edn of the OCT . The
fact that it is Thersites leveling these charges against the Achaians complicates any
interpretation of the significance of the scene as a whole; however, that it is a rebuke which
levels a charge of effeminacy is my only concern here.
4
Cf. Il. 7.235, where cowardice is also associated with effeminacy: on which, see below.
5
On the concept of shame in the Iliad and its implications for characterisation and Homeric
(heroic) psychology, see D.L. Cairns, Aid s: The Psychology and Ethics of Honour and
Shame in Ancient Greek Literature (Oxford 1993).
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 37
6
See G.S. Kirk, The Iliad : A Commentary (vol. II: books 5-8) (Cambridge 1990) 266 on Il.
7.236-41: ‘the woman who does not know about martial matters is a convenient foil for
Hektor’s recital of all he knows.’ See also Hektor’s words to Achilles at Il. 20.431-3: here
Hektor presents himself as separate from the child frightened by words in order to define
himself. Note that Il. 20.431-3 = 20.200-2: see below.
7
See Kirk (n. 6) 310 on Il. 8.161-2.
8
E. Vermeule, Aspects of D eath in Early Greek Art and Poetry (Berkeley 1979) 101. On this
theme, see also S.L. Schein, The Mortal Hero (Berkeley and Los Angeles 1984) 77: ‘a
warrior who is killed has become in effect a subdued animal or subjugated woman.’
38 Christopher Ransom
9
There are, however, parallels between this notion and the passivity/activity model used for
describing Greek and Roman sexual politics: see David Halperin’s entry in S. Hornblower
and A. Spawforth (eds.), The Oxford Classical D ictionary, 3rd edn (Oxford 2003) 721, s.v.
‘homosexuality’. On the active/passive distinction in the discourse of ancient Greek
homosexuality, see K.J. Dover, Greek Homosexuality (London 1978) 16.
10
Note that Il. 20.200-2 ≈ 20.431-3 (see n. 6 above).
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 39
11
See M.W. Edwards, The Iliad : A Commentary (vol. V: books 17-20) (Cambridge 1991) 313,
ad loc.
12
Cf. Il. 13.292-3 (note that 13.292 = 20.244).
13
J.M. Redfield, Nature and Culture in the Iliad: The Tragedy of Hector (Chicago 1975) 14.
14
As C.M. Bowra, Heroic Poetry (London 1952) 4, writes: ‘. . . it is not enough for [the epic
hero] to possess superior qualities; he must realise them in action.’ The figure of Achilles
complicates this preoccupation with masculine activity. After all, the very subject of the
poem is Achilles’ withdrawal from the war, the which precipitated it, and the
inactivity which this initiates (I thank one of Antichthon ’s anonymous readers for pointing
this out to me). While an extensive examination of Achilles’ complex masculine identity is
beyond the scope of this paper, I would argue that any attempt to associate Achilles’
withdrawal from the war with effeminacy would be made difficult by other considerations,
such as the possibility that Achilles’ actions could be interpreted as (at first, at least)
motivated by a conventional masculine desire for , and the way in which he perceives
that his right to attain it has been transgressed. It is also important to note that, in stark
contrast with Paris, for example, Achilles is never explicitly described in effeminate terms,
nor are any accusations of effeminacy levelled against him by other characters. For more on
Achilles’ relationship with the terms of my argument, see n. 24 below.
15
See A.A. Long, ‘Morals and Values in Homer’, JHS 90 (1970) 121-39.
40 Christopher Ransom
16
W.G. Thalmann, ‘Thersites: Comedy, Scapegoats, and Heroic Ideology in the Iliad ’, TAPA
118 (1988) 1. On the other hand, see G.S. Kirk, The Iliad : A Commentary (vol. I: books 1-4)
(Cambridge 1985) 138-9, who argues that Thersites may not necessarily be a common
soldier. Addressing Kirk’s misgivings, see Thalmann, 1 n. 1 and passim .
17
On the possible pathology of Thersites’ appearance, see R.C. Simms, ‘The Missing Bones of
Thersites: A Note on Iliad 2.212-19’, AJP 126 (2005) 33-40; A.W. Beasley, ‘Homer and
Orthopaedics’, Clinical Orthopaedics and Related Research 89 (1972) 10-16; and E.L.
Altschuler, ‘Cleidocranial Dysostosis and the Unity of the Homeric Epics: An Essay’,
Clinical Orthopaedics and Related Research 383 (2001) 286-92.
18
J.B. Hainsworth, The Iliad : A Commentary (vol. III: books 9-12) (Cambridge 1993) 186 (ad
loc.). Hainsworth also points out the aptness of this ‘obviously invented’ name, meaning
‘sneaky’. On the meaning and symbolism of Thersites’ name, see G. Nagy, The Best of the
Achaeans: Concepts of the Hero in Archaic Greek Poetry , rev. edn (Baltimore 1999) 259-61,
and Kirk (n. 16) 138-9.
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 41
+ # & ;
For shame, you Argives, foul disgraces, admired for your looks!
Where have our boasts gone, when we called ourselves noble men?
Agamemnon’s speech extends the theme of beauty-as-cause-for-rebuke and
comments upon the juxtaposition between the Greeks’ fine looks, their
present cowardice and their boastfulness. The antithesis between words
proposed and action (un)realised is emphasised, but the message behind the
comment (‘admired for your looks’) is a little less transparent.
Clearly the tone is ironic, and the implication seems to be that the Greeks are
only with respect to their .21 Another more explicit example of
the beauty/cowardice theme occurs when Glaukos rebukes Hektor at Il.
17.142: $ # (‘Hektor, best
in looks, you fail greatly in your fighting’). Here, Glaukos directly contrasts
Hektor’s beauty with his (apparent) failings in warfare. While physical
beauty is by no means a universally negative quality in men, these insults
show that the idea of ‘empty’ beauty, that is, beauty devoid of other qualities,
is denigrated.
Paris is certainly the epitome of the idea of negative masculine beauty.22
The best example of the denunciation of Paris’ beauty comes in Book 3,
when Paris shrinks back from single combat with Menelaos, and Hektor
rebukes his brother for the first time:
"
! & !
19
Kirk (n. 16) 139.
20
See H. van Wees, Status Warriors: War, Violence and Society in Homer and History
(Amsterdam 1992) 78-9: ‘It is not just that [Homer] ignores the bravery, beauty and other
qualities of everyone but princes. He d enies that anyone but princes possesses these qualities.
Princes in general are said to have physical beauty that sets them apart from others.’
21
See R.J. Cunliffe, A Lexicon of the Homeric D ialect , 2nd edn (Norman 1968) s.v. ,
‘ (i.e., in that only)’, citing Il. 5.787 and 8.228; see also LSJ s.v. ,
‘wonderful in form only, as a reproach’, also citing both occurrences.
22
Which, of course, offers a pleasing symmetry. Helen, his wife, is surely the epitome of the
danger of feminine beauty.
42 Christopher Ransom
. # - 1 %
& #
& %%%
. & 4 ;
# & !
+ ! &
# # + %
*
) # # # %
Evil Paris, best in looks, woman-crazy, seducer,
I wish you’d never been born, or were killed before you married.
Indeed I could have wished it, and it would have been better by far,
rather than being such a disgrace, an object for others to scorn.
The long-haired Achaians laugh at us,
thinking that you’re our best fighter, because your
looks are fair, but there is no strength in your heart, no courage . . .
Would you not stand up against Menelaos, dear to Ares?
Then you would learn what sort of man he is, whose blooming wife
you’ve taken.
The lyre would not protect you then, nor the gifts of Aphrodite,
nor your locks, nor your beauty, when you roll in the dust.
But the Trojans are really cowards; otherwise already you would long since
have worn a robe of stones, because of all the evils you’ve done to us.
( Il. 3.39-45, 52-7)
Here we can see the expectation that fine looks would accompany other
attributes (and vice versa) – the Achaians would think that Paris was their
best fighter because he is the most handsome – but Paris confounds this
expectation. Rather, Hektor accuses him of lacking strength and courage.
Hektor addresses his brother as (‘best in looks’), which has the
same ironic and insulting quality of at Il. 5.787 and 8.228.
Again the suggestion is that Paris’ beauty is empty, and that he is lacking the
courage or other manly characteristics that would render it honourable. It is
also quite appropriate that the other two insults in the first line of Hektor’s
vocative address – (‘woman-crazy’) and
(‘seducer’) – focus on Paris’ relationship with women.23 It was, after all,
Paris’ skill as which began the Trojan War. Paris is set against
Menelaos, a ‘real’ man by implication, and he is told that his skill with the
lyre and his beauty would be no help to him then.24 This serves to
23
Hektor will repeat ‘" ’ when he rebukes
Paris later at Il. 13.769.
24
The reader’s mind may well be drawn to the beautiful, lyre-playing, battle-shirking Achilles
at this point. It is worth noting that when the poet depicts Achilles playing the lyre (Il. 9.185-
9), the hero has withdrawn from the world of war. Thus, his association with this non-martial
occupation, despite the fact that battle is taking place, does not necessarily lead to a
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 43
27
J. Griffin, Homer on Life and D eath (Cambridge 1980) 5. Paris changes into proper armour:
Il. 3.326-39.
28
Griffin (n. 27) 83.
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 45
29
It is unclear whether the description refers to Amphimachos or Nastes. Kirk (n. 16) 261 refers
to Aristarchus’ view from the scholia that Amphimachos is ‘grammatically more likely since
his was the last name to be mentioned.’ Griffin (n. 27) hedges his bets, calling him Nastes at
4 and Amphimachos at 115.
30
See Edwards (n. 11) 68.
31
See Griffin (n. 27) 4: ‘. . . this single allusion characterizes him with deadly finality.’ The
death of Amphimachos/Nastes is not mentioned in Book 21; we do not find the name in the
catalogue of men slain by Achilles in the river. Likewise, the death of the Trojan seer
Ennomos, referred to several lines earlier, is also not mentioned in Book 21: -
| ,+ ‘but he was brought down under the hand of
swift-footed Aiakides in the river’ (Il. 2.860-1 = 2.874).
32
See Cunliffe (n. 21) s.v. §3, who counts this usage under the meanings ‘childish,
foolish, thoughtless, senseless’.
46 Christopher Ransom
33
For example, cf. Hektor’s death at Il. 22.401-3.
34
R. Scodel, Listening to Homer: Tradition, Narrative, and Audience (Ann Arbor 2002) 96.
Scodel goes on to suggest that Euphorbos is a ‘doublet of Paris’.
35
Edwards (n. 11) 68. See also D. Fowler, ‘Vergil on Killing Virgins’, in Michael Whitby,
Philip Hardie and Mary Whitby (eds), Homo Viator: Classical Essays for John Bramble
(Bristol 1987) 185-98, at 187-8. Although Fowler reads Eurphorbos as effeminate, he
nevertheless views the scene as pathetic and sexually symbolic. He writes that the
‘comparison of Euphorbus’ hair to the Graces . . . makes Euphorbus like a girl’, and reads the
scene as a metaphor for ‘violently pathetic defloration’.
36
Il. 3.39-57; on this rebuke, see above.
37
See on Il. 24.23-30, as discussed above.
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 47
38
See below.
39
See Il. 15.506-8, 16.617, 24.253-62.
40
Kirk (n. 16) 322.
41
See below my discussion of Helen’s comment at Il. 6. 350-1; see also Cairns (n. 5) 77, and
Redfield (n. 13) 114-5.
48 Christopher Ransom
42
See Kirk (n. 16) 328: ‘Paris is evidently unperturbed by his experience and must be
complacently aware that it was Aphrodite that spirited him away.’
43
Cf. Il. 6.339, where Paris tells Hektor (‘victory shifts from
one man to another’); on this, see Kirk (n. 6) 204: ‘He thus attributes success in battle to
more or less random factors, discounting his personal responsibility and performance.’
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 49
dust and heat of battle. And now, while Paris’ mind is overcome with lust and
he goes to bed with Helen, Menelaos wanders about the host like a wild
animal (! ), looking for Paris (Il. 3.449). Menelaos’ bestial
masculinity, emphasised in two animal similes, is contrasted sharply with
Paris’ effeminacy, his preference for pleasure and his concern with dress and
appearance.
In order to define the noble and the admirable, the reader must also be
presented with an ‘other’, the ignoble, by contrast with which nobility and
honour can be identified. Nowhere is this definition-by-contrast more evident
than in the case of Paris and Hektor, nor has the notion that Hektor’s heroism
and nobility is constructed in direct opposition to Paris’ lack thereof escaped
the notice of commentators.44 I wish to focus this discussion more squarely
on the gender implications of this construction. It is in Book 6 of the Iliad
that Hektor is defined and characterised most completely, and unsurprisingly
it is in this book that Hektor and Paris are most explicitly contrasted.45 While
Hektor’s journey through Troy illuminates both the importance and the tragedy
of the hero’s duty, the depiction of Paris in Book 6 confirms his
characterisation and sets him unquestionably against his brother’s masculine
warrior ethos.46
44
J.T. Hooker, ‘Homeric Society: A Shame-Culture?’, G &R, 34.2 (1987) 121-5, at 122, writes
that Hektor ‘. . . is explicitly contrasted with his brother Paris and implicitly with the warriors
on the Achaean side.’ Redfield (n. 13) 113 writes that Homer ‘seems to have intended the
contrast between [Paris and Hektor] and to have marked it by certain parallel features . . .
they are introduced as a sort of pair. Their likeness, however, is that of opposites’; at 114-5
he argues that Hektor’s keen sense of and heroic duty is constructed in direct contrast
to Paris’ lack of ; and at 122 he writes that ‘Hector and Paris are a kind of opposite
pair.’ Griffin (n. 27) 6-7 sees the contrast between the Hektor/Andromache and Paris/Helen
relationships as indicative of the contrast between the characterisations of Hektor and Paris as
individuals. This notion has a long history, and the second century CE philosopher Maximus
of Tyre constructed the following antithesis (Max. Tyr. Or. 26.6):
... , & $
#
, $
# . , ' -
' - - - - -
%
Paris the licentious, Hektor the sensible. Paris the coward, Hektor the hero. You can
compare their marriages as well: one worthy of imitation, the other pitiable. One
cursed, the other praiseworthy. One adulterous, the other lawful.
I thank Jeroen Lauwers of K.U. Leuven for bringing this passage to my attention. The text is
from Trapp’s 1994 Teubner edition. On the contrast between Paris and Hektor in ancient
scholarship, see also the bT scholia on Il. 6.390.
45
As Hektor and Paris are contrasted most explicitly in Book 6, so too are Andromache and
Helen. The difference in the relationships between the two men and their wives serves to
reinforce the differences between the characters themselves; see Redfield (n. 13) 122: ‘As
Hector and Paris are a kind of opposite pair, so are Helen and Andromache. Andromache is
the faithful wife who completes and motivates the hero; Helen is a woman as a source of
danger and social disorder . . .’ See also Griffin (n. 27) 6, and T. Van Nortwick, ‘Like a
Woman: Hektor and the Boundaries of Masculinity’, Arethusa 34 (2001) 225.
46
See below my discussion of Helen’s comment at Il. 6. 350-1 below. See also Cairns (n. 5)
77, and Redfield (n. 13) 114-5.
50 Christopher Ransom
47
Kirk (n. 6) 164.
48
Hektor will use the phrase also at Il. 8.174, 11.287, 15.487 and 17.185. Others use it at Il.
5.529 (Agamemnon), 15.561 (Aias), 15.661 (Nestor), 15.734 (Aias) and 16.270 (Patroklos).
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 51
49
For contemporary theories of gender-as-performance, see J. Butler, Gend er Trouble:
Feminism and the Subversion of Id entity (New York 1990) 24-5, 33, 136-7; D.D. Gilmore,
Manhood in the Making: Cultural Concepts of Masculinity (New Haven 1990) 30-55; R.W.
Connell, Masculinities (Cambridge 1995) 21-7 and passim ; M. Simpson, Male Imper-
sonators: Men Performing Masculinity (London 1994) passim ; and K. Woodward (ed.),
Id entity and Difference (London 1997) 130-1, 219-20. For applications of these
contemporary theories to Greek and Roman literature, see E. Gunderson, Staging
Masculinity: The Rhetoric of Performance in the Roman World (Ann Arbor 2000) passim
and esp. 112-5; D. Wray, Catullus and the Poetics of Roman Manhood (Cambridge 2001)
57-63; M.W. Gleason, Making Men: Sophists and Self-Presentation in Ancient Rome
(Princeton 1995) passim ; and M.R. Christ, The Bad Citizen in Classical Athens (Cambridge
2006) 15-44.
50
In referring to the offers of Hekuba, Helen and Andromache as ‘temptations’, I am in no way
suggesting that the women act out of malice. Rather, the offers are made out of goodwill, but
the comfort and the prolongation of an absence from the battlefield which the acceptance of
these offers entails is a ‘temptation’ to be avoided if Hektor is to maintain his masculine,
heroic identity.
51
Hekuba, Il. 6.258-62; Helen, 6.354-8; Andromache, 6.431-9.
52
On this sequence, see Griffin (n. 27) 6-7.
52 Christopher Ransom
These are the proper words of a hero: his first thoughts are for his
(‘strength’) and his , the foundations of his heroic virtue.53 His second
thought is one of piety – it would not be proper to pour a libation to Zeus
with hands so encrusted with gore.54 To Helen’s offer, he replies:
!' $
- &
! &
* ( ! %
Don’t make me sit down, Helen, though you love me. You won’t
persuade me.
For already my heart is resolved that I must defend the Trojans,
who, when I’m away, miss me greatly.
(Il. 6.360-2)
Here, his thought is for the defence of his companions and their great need
for his presence. When Andromache asks him to remain on the wall with her,
Hektor responds:
* * + -
( & '
! ! !
* !
%
Indeed all these things concern me too, wife. But I would feel most terrible
shame before the Trojan men, and the Trojan women with their trailing robes,
if like a coward I were to shrink away from the fighting.
And my heart won’t let me, since I have learned always to be courageous
and to fight among the frontline of the Trojans,
seeking to gain great glory for my father and for me myself.
(Il. 6.441-6)
This is the greatest statement of Hektor’s heroic ethos. Although remaining
apart from the battle ( & %%% ) might be attractive, he is simply
unable to do so. He is motivated by the fear of shame, his sense of
responsibility to the Trojan people and the pursuit of . His statement
that he has learned to be courageous ( ! ! ) furthers the
notion of gender-as-performance; this masculine role, characterised by its
keen pursuit of heroic behaviour, is something that must be learned , rather
than an innate quality. In all three of Hektor’s responses, he stresses his ties
to the masculine sphere of battle.
53
Here I disagree with Kirk (n. 6) 196, who writes that ‘Hektor uses any available excuse, since
he is in a hurry.’ I argue that Hektor’s response fully encapsulates his heroic ethos and
contributes to his characterisation.
54
Of course, he could wash his hands, but in doing so he would be ridding himself of the traces
of war and symbolically removing himself even further from the battlefield; see Redfield (n.
13) 121, who writes that ‘although he is present in her home, he still belongs to the
battlefield.’
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 53
55
Van Nortwick (n. 45) 223.
56
Ibid. 225.
57
Ibid. 223.
58
Ibid. 227.
59
Il. 3.380-2 and 3.391-4; see above.
54 Christopher Ransom
dangerous ground. He holds the spear as if to fight off the temptation of the
feminine, the seductive lure which has so ensnared his brother.60 The tableau
presented as Hektor finds Paris is one of great significance:
0 ! + #
! , -&
$
- + ,
0 & %
And he found Paris in his chamber, handling his fine armour,
his shield and corselet, and polishing his curved bow;
while Argive Helen was sitting among her servant women,
directing her handmaidens at their splendid work.
(Il. 6.321-4)
Just as it was symbolic that in Book 3 Aphrodite deposited Paris in his
bedroom,61 so too is it symbolic that Hektor finds Paris once more in this sex-
locus, surrounded by women.62 Note also that Helen is identified as
$
- (‘Argive Helen’), which seems to intensify the inappropriateness of
the scene. As the women are going about their proper feminine work, Paris is
engaging in a shallow pantomime of manliness, polishing the symbols of
martial masculinity, presumably to impress the women.63 The language used
to describe the ways in which Hektor and Paris make use of their weapons is
illustrative of the juxtaposition between Hektor’s activity in Book 6, in
contrast with Paris’ passivity : at Il. 6.318-20 Hektor was ‘holding’ his
massive spear (the verb used is , ‘to have, hold, possess’), whereas here
Paris is merely toying with his arms, turning them over in his hands,
polishing them and busying himself with them (the verbs are # and -& ).
Hektor’s spear is a symbol of his connection to the martial and the public
spheres, whereas Paris is defined by the use of an entirely different spear in
the bedroom.64
Hektor rebukes Paris for staying away from the fighting, saying
! ! + (‘it’s no fine thing to store up this anger in
your heart’, Il. 6.326).65 Paris responds:
60
See Kirk (n. 6) 201: ‘. . . here the great spear is obviously designed, with its gleaming tip and
golden ring, to give him a special glow of authority as he confronts his unheroic brother.’ On
the symbolism of Hektor’s spear, see also Griffin (n. 27) 8, and Van Nortwick (n. 45) 225.
61
Il. 3.380-2; see above.
62
See Griffin (n. 27) 8: ‘. . . he finds Paris not in a respectable part of the house but in his
boudoir among the female servants . . .’; see also Van Nortwick (n. 45) 231: ‘[Paris] has
given himself over to the intimate venue that Hector avoids.’
63
See Griffin (n. 27) 8, and Schein (n. 8) 173.
64
On spears as phallic metaphors in both Greek and Latin poetry, see J.N. Adams, The Latin
Sexual Vocabulary (Baltimore 1982) 19-20; in Attic comedy, see J. Henderson, The
Maculate Muse: Obscene Language in Attic Comed y , 2nd edn (Oxford 1991) 44-5, 120-4.
65
Kirk (n. 6) 203 points out that it is perhaps surprising that Hektor blames Paris’ shirking on
(‘anger’): ‘. . . since he might be expected to mention cowardice, slackness or
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 55
%%% * +
# ! + ! ) ! %66
I was not sitting in my chamber so much out of anger or indignation
at the Trojans, but I wished to give myself over to grief.
(Il. 6.335-6)
This surrender to grief symbolically entails retreating from the battlefield and
entering into the feminine world. Thus, Paris’ preference for indulging his
emotions rather than continuing to fight is an instance of his giving into
feminine temptation. By apparently wallowing in his sorrow among the
women, Paris is seeking solace in the comfort of female company and
succumbing to the lures that Hektor strives so hard to deny in Book 6. Helen
then speaks to Hektor, and her denunciation of Paris encapsulates explicitly
his deviation from the masculine code of honour:
0 !
&
( ! %
+ . &
! %
But since the gods have decreed such terrible things as these,
then I wish I was the wife of a better man,
one who understood nemesis, and the many words of shame men say.
But the heart of this man is no firm thing, nor will it ever be
in the future. I think he will reap the fruits of his folly for this.
(Il. 6.349-53)
After minimising her own responsibility by blaming the gods, Helen once
more insults Paris to his face.67 This time, Paris has no right of reply. She
tells us that Paris simply has no concept of , or of the
(‘shameful things’) that people say about them. Thus Paris is portrayed as
fundamentally unaffected by or , the concepts which so shape
and define the psychology of the ‘real’ Homeric hero.68 Naturally, this is in
direct contrast to the portrayal of Hektor in Book 6, whose steadfast refusal to
succumb to feminine temptation, and whose constant assertions that he is
motivated by the fear of shame and by his sense of duty, characterise him as
the ideal hero. He is the ‘real’ man of the two.
effeminacy as his brother’s motive’; on this exchange, see also L. Collins, ‘The Wrath of
Paris: Ethical Vocabulary and Ethical Type in the Iliad ’, AJPh 108.2 (1987) 220-32.
66
There is an ambiguity here as to whether * is a subjective or objective genitive; whether
the and Paris mentions belongs to the Trojans, or is d irected at the Trojans.
Thus, Paris could be saying either ‘it was not because the Trojans hold and
towards me’ or ‘it is not because I hold and towards the Trojans.’ However,
since Hektor has suggested that Paris is holding in his heart (Il. 6.335-6, see above), I
believe it is more natural for Paris to be referring to his own and , rather than
that of the Trojans. See Kirk (n. 6) 203.
67
Cf. Il. 3.428-31.
68
On this, see especially Cairns (n. 5).
56 Christopher Ransom
The two brothers meet again at the closing of Book 6. In a long and
elaborate simile, Paris is compared to a horse breaking free of its tether and
galloping through pastures – head held high, mane flowing (Il. 6.506-11).69
For Van Nortwick, as the simile immediately follows the heart-rending
parting of Hektor and Andromache, it ‘captures brilliantly Paris’s shallow
insouciance, [and it is] almost brutal in the wake of the pain we have
witnessed.’70 Truly, the contrast is striking – the pathos and gravitas of the
Hektor/Andromache scene and the chilling image of his household mourning
his death while he is still alive, set immediately against the picture of a
glamorous and frivolous Paris prancing down the city streets, streaming with
sunshine, laughing aloud (Il. 6.512-4). Hektor’s rebuke of Paris, which closes
Book 6, gives us the final contrast between the two:
(
- ! !
! + !# - !
* ( # %
Strange fellow! No man, if he was being a fair judge,
would dishonour your work in battle, since you’re a strong fighter.
But you willingly shrink back, not wishing to fight. And for that my heart
is grieved in my breast, when I hear shameful things about you
from the Trojans, who suffer much trouble on your account.
(Il. 6.521-5)
Despite Paris’ skill in battle (he is, after all, , ‘strong’), his fault is
that he willingly shrinks from fighting.71 If gender is performance, Paris is
simply not playing his part; if ‘being a man’ requires a concerted effort and a
conscious choice, it seems as though Paris’ choices are in opposition to those
of his more heroic brother. While Helen tells Hektor that the shameful things
others say do not make their mark on Paris, Hektor feels them nonetheless on
his brother’s part. Thus Book 6 of the Iliad leaves us with a picture of the
indelible difference between the two men; one a fully actualised masculine
hero, motivated by shame, duty and the avoidance of criticism – the other
insensitive to all of the above, effeminised and effeminate, choosing glamour
over gravity, pleasure over duty, unable to reinforce the masculine
boundaries needed in order to realise a true epic masculine identity.
69
This simile will be repeated, but applied to Hektor at Il. 15.263-8, after Apollo has breathed
renewed strength into him.
70
Van Nortwick (n. 45) 229.
71
In Book 11 of the Iliad , we are presented with another side of Paris, one in which he is
largely successful in battle. At Il. 11.369-83, Paris shoots Diomedes in the foot with his
arrow, but Diomedes’ rebuke shows us that the former characterisation of Paris is still not far
from the mind of the poet. He addresses Paris in demeaning and effeminising language (Il.
11.385-7) and compares being struck by Paris’ arrow to being struck by the arrow of a
woman or a witless child (Il. 11.389-90). Still, his shooting does bring about Diomedes’
withdrawal from the battle. Likewise, at Il. 11.504-9, Paris shoots Machaon with an arrow,
which turns the tide of the battle.
Effeminacy and Masculinity in the Iliad 57