Among
the parerga of Herakles was the slaying
of Busiris, a mythical Egyptian pharaoh. (A parergon was a subsidiary or
minor labor that the hero undertook while performing his major ones, i.e., the
canonical twelve.) Like Herakles’
encounters with Nereus and Antaios, the killing of Busiris took place during his eleventh
labor, the acquisition of the Golden Apples in the Garden of the Hesperides
(cf. the post for 3/16).
When
Egypt was ravaged by drought, Busiris sought advice from a seer, who told him
that he could insure himself against calamity every year by sacrificing a
stranger. The seer himself hailed from
outside Egypt, so Busiris put the seer’s claim to the test by sacrificing him! And the trick worked: no drought that year,
no famine. So the next year when Busiris
began looking for another victim, is so happened that a certain stranger showed
up as though on cue. You guessed it:
that stranger was Herakles. When he was
led to the altar and realized what his hosts intended to do to him, Herakles
broke free from his bonds and slew Busiris and his son.
The
earliest extant depiction of this story on a complete pot is on this black-figure
hydria from Caere belonging to the second half of the sixth century BC. Here Herakles is a huge, dark figure who with
his bare hands hurls around numerous dark- and light-skinned, white-clad Egyptian
priests in front of the altar. He
tramples two even as he chokes two more in the crook of his arms, strangles a
third, and grasps a fourth by the ankle. The other Egyptians are doing their best to escape.
Most
scholars regard this and similar later depictions as a parody of Egyptian
monuments showing Pharaoh smiting or trampling his enemies. The great J. D. Beazley saw it this way as
early as 1910. “The wit in the painting,”
writes Susan Woodford, “comes from fitting the style to the subject; Herakles
turns the tables on the Egyptians, the artist turns the tables on the Egyptian style!”
Such
parody presupposes familiarity with Egypt. At the end of the eighth century Greeks were serving as mercenaries in
Egypt, and they were influenced by the monuments there. They had a trading post at Naucratis in the
Nile delta from the seventh century BC. Contacts
between Greece and Egypt were regular. “It
is hardly conceivable,” concludes Martin Robertson, “that the painter of the
Busiris vase had not himself seen Egyptian monuments.”
Another
illustration of the myth, the earliest complete one in Attic vase painting, is
this one by the Swing Painter from the second half of the sixth century
BC. Here the figure that has fallen over
the altar must be Busiris. Herakles,
wearing the lionskin, holds a white-clad Egyptian by the ankle and is about to use
him to club Busiris, while another priest expresses his dismay. The others flee.
The
story of Herakles and Busiris is popular in Attic red-figure vase painting
during the first half of the fifth century. On this pelike by the Pan Painter from about 460 BC Herakles encounters
more opposition than he did on the two vases considered above. One Egyptian is poised to strike the hero
with an ax. For his part, Herakles has
grabbed another by both ankles, prepared to meet the ax with a human weapon,
even though his club is within easy reach.
The
basic type is constant in these and other Attic depictions of Herakles and
Busiris for most the fifth century: in the center Herakles attacks Busiris in
front of the altar, while priests and attendants flee for their lives. Then, toward the end of the century, the type
vanishes from Athens.
Carpenter,
T. H. Art and Myth in Ancient
Greece. 1991. 128.
Robertson,
Martin. A History of Greek Art. 2
vols. 1975. 2.139.
Woodford,
Susan. Images of Myth in Classical Antiquity. 2003. 73-76.
- Ryan Summers
- Ryan Summers
No comments:
Post a Comment