|Introduction To Classical Mythology- Edith Hamilton
Greek and Roman mythology is quite generally supposed to show us the way the human race thought and felt untold ages ago. Through it, according to this view, we can retrace the path from civilized man who lives so far from nature, to man who lived in close companionship with nature; and the real interest of the myths is that they lead us back to a time when the world was young and people had a connection with the earth, with trees and seas and flowers and hills, unlike any-thing we ourselves can feel. When the stories were being shaped, we are given to understand, little distinction had as yet been made between
the real and the unreal. The imagination was vividly alive and not checked by the reason, so that anyone in the woods might see through the trees a fleeing nymph, or bending over a clear pool to drink, behold in the depths a naiad's face.The prospect of traveling back to this delightful state of things is held out by nearly every writer who touches upon classical mythology, above all by the poets. In that infinitely remote time primitive man could Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
And we for a moment can catch, through the myths he made, a glimpse of that strangely
and beautifully animated world. But a very brief consideration of the ways of uncivilized
peoples everywhere and in all ages is enough to prick that romantic bubble. Nothing is
clearer than the fact that primitive man, whether in New Guinea today or eons ago in the prehistoric wilderness, is not and never has been a creature who peoples his world with bright fancies and lovely visions. Horrors lurked in the primeval forest, not nymphs and naiads.
Terror lived there, with its close attendant, Magic, and its most common defense,
Human Sacrifice. Mankind's chief hope of escaping the wrath of whatever divinities were
then abroad lay in some magical rite, senseless but powerful, or in some offering made at
the cost of pain and grief.
This dark picture is worlds apart from the stories of classical mythology. The study of the
way early man looked at his surroundings does not get much help from the Greeks. How
briefly the anthropologists treat the Greek myths is noteworthy.
Of course the Greeks too had their roots in the primeval slime. Of course they too once
lived a savage life, ugly and brutal. But what the myths show is how high they had risen
above the ancient filth and fierceness by the time we have any knowledge of them. Only a
few traces of that time are to be found in the stories.We do not know when these stories were first told in their present shape; but whenever itwas, primitive life had been left far behind. The myths as we have them are the creation ofgreat poets. The first written record of Greece is the Iliad. Greek mythology begins withHomer, generally believed to be not earlier than a thousand years before Christ. The Iliad is, or contains, the oldest Greek literature; and it is written in a rich and subtle and
beautiful language which must have had behind it centuries when men were striving to
express themselves with clarity and beauty, anindisputable proof of civilization. The tales of
Greek mythology do not throw any clear light upon what early mankind was like. They do
throw an abundance of light upon what early Greeks were like—a matter, it would seem, of
more importance to us, who are their descendants intellectually, artistically,· and politically,
too. Nothing we learn about them is alien to ourselves. People often speak of "the Greek
miracle." What the [The Greeks, unlike the Egyptians, made their gods in their own image.] Illustration
Phrase tries to express is the new birth of the world with the awakening of Greece. "Old
things are passed away; behold, all things are become new." Something like that happened in Greece. Why it happened, or when, we have no idea at all. We know only that in the earliest Greek poets a new point of view dawned, never dreamed of in the world before them, but ever to leave the world after them. With the coming for-ward of Greece, mankind became the center of the universe, the most important thing in it. This was a revolution in thought. Human beings had counted for little heretofore. In Greece man first realized what mankind was. The Greeks made their gods in their own image. That had not entered the mind of man
before. Until then, gods had had no semblance of reality. They were unlike all living things.
In Egypt, a towering colossus, immobile, beyond the power of the imagination to endow
with movement, as fixed in the stone as the tremendous temple columns a representation
of the human shape deliberately made unhuman. Or a rigid figure, a woman with a cat's head suggesting inflexible, inhu-man cruelty. Or a monstrous mysterious sphinx, aloof from all that lives. In Mesopotamia, bas-reliefs of bestialshapes unlike any beast ever known, men with birds' heads and lions with bulls' heads and both with eagles' wings, creations of artists who were intent upon producing something never seen except in their own minds, the very consumma-tion of unreality.
These and their like were what the pre-Greek world wor-shiped. One need only place
beside them in imagination any Greek statue of a god. so normal and natural with all its
beauty, to perceive what a new idea had come into the world. With its coming, the universe
became rational. Saint Paul said the invisible must be understood by the visible. That was not a Hebrewidea, it was Greek. In Greece alone in the ancient world people were preoccupied with the
visible; they were finding the satisfaction of their desires in what was actually in the world
around them. The sculptor watched the athletes contending in the games and he felt that
nothing he could imagine would be as beautiful as those strong young bodies. So he made
his statue of Apollo. The storyteller found Hermes among the people he passed in the
Street He saw the god "like a young man at the age when youth is loveliest," as Homer
says. Greek artists and poets realized how splendid a man could be, straight and swift and
strong. He was the fulfillment of their search for beauty.
They had no wish to create some fantasy shaped in their own minds. All the an and all the
thought of Greece centered in human beings.
Human gods naturally made heaven a pleasantly familiar place. The Greeks felt at home in
it. 'They knew just what the divine inhabitants did there, what they ate and drank
and where they banqueted and how they amused themselves. Of course they were to be
feared; they were very powerful and very dangerous when angry. Still, with proper care a
man could be quite fairly at ease with them. He was even perfectly free to laugh at them.
Zeus, trying to hide his love affairs from his wife and invariably shown up, was a capital
figure of fun. The Greeks enjoyed him and liked him all the better for it. Hera was that stock
character of comedy. The typical jealous wife, and her ingenious tricks to discomfit her
husband and punish her rival, far from displeasing the Greeks, entertained them as much
as Hera's modem counter-part does us today. Such stories made for a friendly feeling.
Laughter in the presence of an Egyptian sphinx or an Assyr-ian bird-beast was
inconceivable; but it was perfectly natural in Olympus, and it made the gods
companionable. On earth, too, the deities were exceedingly and humanly attractive. In the form of lovely youths and maidens they peopled the woodland, the forest. the rivers. the sea, in harmonywith the fair earth and the bright waters.
That is the miracle of Greek mythology—a humanized world, men freed from the paralyzing
fear of an omnipotent Unknown. The terrifying incomprehensibilities which were worshiped
elsewhere. and the fearsome spirits with which earth. air and sea swarmed, were banned
from Greece. It may seem odd to say that the men who made the myths disliked the
irrational and had a love for facts; but it is true, no matter
how wildly fantastic some of the stories are. Anyone who reads them with attention
discovers that even the most non-sensical take place in a world which is essentially rational
and matter-of-fact.Hercules, whose life was one long combat
against preposterous monsters, is always said to have had his home in the city ofThebes.
The exact spot where Aphrodite was born of the foam could be visited by any ancient
tourist; it was just offshore from the island of Cythera. The winged steed Pegasus. after
skimming the air all day, went every night to a comfortable stable inCorinth. A familiar local
habitation gave reality to all the mythical beings. If the mix-true seems childish, consider
how reassuring and how sensible the solid background is as compared with the Genie who
comes from nowhere when Aladdin rubs the lamp and, his task accomplished, returns to
The terrifying irrational has no place in classical mythology. Magic, so powerful in the world
before and after Greece, is almost nonexistent. There are no men and only two women with
dreadful, supernatural powers. The demoniac wizards and the hideous old witches who
haunted Europe and America-ca, too, up to quite recent years, play no part at all in the
stories. Circe and Medea are the only witches and they are young and of
surpassing beauty-delightful, not horrible. Astrology, which has flourished from the days of
ancient Babylon down to today, is completely absent from classicalGreece. There are
many stories about the stars, but not a trace of the idea that they influence men's lives.
Astronomy is what the Greek mind finally made out of the stars. Not a single story has a
magical priest who is terribly to be feared because he knows ways of winning over the
gods or alienating them. The priest is rarely seen and is never of im-portance. In the
Odyssey when a priest and a poet fall on their knees before Odysseus, praying him to
spare their lives, the hero kills the priest without a thought, but saves the poet. Homer says
that he felt awe to slay a man who had been taught his divine art by the gods. Not the priest,
but the poet, had influence with heaven-and no one was ever afraid of a poet. Ghosts, too,
which have played so large and so fear-some a part in other lands, never appear on earth
in any Greek story. The Greeks were not afraid of the dead-"the piteous dead," the
Odyssey calls them.
The world of Greek mythology was not a place of terror for the human spirit. It is true that the gods were disconcertingly incalculable. One could never tell where Zeus's thunderbolt would strike. Nevertheless, the whole divine company, with a very few and for the most part not impor-tant exceptions, were entrancingly beautiful with a human beauty, and nothing humanly beautiful is really terrifying. The early Greekmythologists transformed a world full of fear into a world full of beauty.
This bright picture has its dark spots. The change came about slowly and was never quite completed. The godsbecome- human were for a long time a very slight improvement upon their worshipers. They were incomparably lovelier and more powerful, and they were
of course immortal; but they often acted in a way no decent man or woman would. In the Il-iad Hector is nobler by far than any of the heavenly beings, and Andromache infinitely to be preferred to Athena or Aph-
rodite. Hera from first to last is a goddess on a very low level of humanity. Almost every one
of the radiant divinities could act cruelly or contemptibly. A very limited sense of right and
wrong prevailed in Horner's heaven, and for a long time after.
Other dark spots too stand out. There are traces of a time when there were beast-gods.
The satyrs are goat-men and the centaurs are half man, half horse. Hera is often called
"cow-faced," as if the adjective had somehow stuck to her through all her changes from a
divine cow to the very human queen of heaven. There are also stories which point back
clearly to a time when there was human sacrifice. But what is astonish-ing is not that bits of
savage belief were left here and there. The strange thing is that they are so few.
Of course the mythical monster is present in any number of shapes, Gorgons and hydras and chimaeras dire,\but they are there only to give the hero his meed of glory. What could a hero do in a world without them? They are al-ways overcome by him. The great hero of mythology, Hercu-les,
might be an allegory of Greece herself. He fought the monsters and freed the earth from
them just as Greece freed the earth from the monstrous idea of the unhuman supreme over
Greek mythology is largely made up of stories about gods and goddesses, but it must not
be read as a kind of Greek Bible, an account of the Greek religion. According to the most
modem idea, a real myth has nothing to do with religion. It is an explanation of something in
nature; how, for instance, any and everything in the universe came into existence: men,
animals, this or that tree or flower, the sun, the moon, the stars, storms, eruptions,
earthquakes, all that is and all that happens. Thunder and lightning are caused when Zeus
hurls his thunderbolt. A volcano erupts because a terrible creature is imprisoned in the
mountain and every now and then strug-gles to get free. The Dipper, the constellation
called also the Great Bear, does not set below the horizon because a goddes
once was angry at it and decreed that it should never
sink into the sea. Myths are early science, the result of men's first trying to explain what they
saw around them. But there are many so-called myths which explain nothing at all. These
tales are pure entertainment, the sort of thing people would tell each other on a long
winter's evening. The story of Pyg-malion and Galatea is an example; it has no conceivable
connection with any event in nature. Neither has the Quest of the Golden Fleece, nor Orpheus
and Eurydice, nor many an-other. This fact is now generally accepted; and we do not have
to try to find in every mythological heroine the moon
or the dawn and in every hero's life a sun myth. The stories are early literature as well as
early science. But religion is there, too. In the background, to be sure,
but nevertheless plain to see. From Homer through the tragedians and even later, there is a
deepening realization of what human beings need and what they must have in their gods.
Zeus the Thunderer was, it seems certain, once a rain-god. He was supreme even over the
sun, because rocky Greece needed rain more than sunshine and the God of Gods would
be the one who could give the precious water of life to his worshipers. But Homer's Zeus is
not a fact of nature. He is a person living in a world where civilization has made an en-try, and of course he has a standard of right and wrong. It is not very high, certainly, and seems chiefly applicable to others, not to himself; but he does punish men who lie and
break their oaths; he is angered by any ill treatment of the dead; and he pities and helps
old Priam when he goes as a suppliant to Achilles. In the Odyssey, he has reached a
higher level. The swineherd there says that the needy and the stranger are from Zeus and
he who fails to help them sins against Zeus himself. Hesiod, not much later than the
Odyssey if at all, says of a man who does evil to the suppliant and the stranger, or who
wrongs orphan children, "with that man Zeus is angry."
Then Justice became Zeus's companion. That was a new idea. The buccaneering
chieftains in the Iliad did not want justice. They wanted to be able to take whatever they
chose because they were strong and they wanted a god who was on the side of the strong.
But Hesiod, who was a peasant living in a poor man's world, knew that the poor must have
a just god. He wrote, "Fishes and beasts and fowls of the air devour one another. But to
man, Zeus has given justice. Beside Zeus on his throne Justice has her seat." These
passages show that the great and bitter needs of the helpless were reaching up to heaven
and changing the god of the strong into the protector of the weak.
So, back of the stories of an amorous Zeus and a cowardly Zeus and a ridiculous Zeus, we
can catch sight of another Zeus coming into being, as men grow continually more conscious
of what life demanded of them and what human beings needed in the god they worshiped. Gradually this Zeus
displaced the others, until he occupied the whole scene. At last. he became, in the words of
Dio Chrysostom, who wrote during the second century A.D.: "Our Zeus, the giver of every
good gift, the common father and saviour and guardian of mankind."
The Odyssey speaks of "the divine for which all men long," and hundreds of years later Aristotle wrote, "Excellence, much labored for by the race of mortals." The Greeks from the earliest mythologists on had a perception of the divine and the excellent. Their longing for them was great enough to make them never give up laboring to see them clearly, until at last the thunder and lightning were changed .into the Universal Father.