10 Matching Annotations
  1. May 2026
    1. Joseph’s time in Egypt is even more tumultuous than his life in Canaan. The Ishmaelite traders sell him as a slave to Potiphar, a wealthy Egyptian merchant. Joseph finds great fortune with Potiphar, but his promotion through Potiphar’s household attracts the attention of Potiphar’s wife, who repeatedly tries to seduce him. When her attempts fail, she accuses Joseph of rape, which lands him in prison.

      In the story of Joseph, gender and heroism are connected through power, temptation, and morality. Joseph is presented as honorable because he resists the advances of Potiphar’s wife and remains loyal to his values. His heroic identity is connected with self-control, wisdom, and faith rather than physical strength or war. Potiphar’s wife, however, is often presented as dangerous and emotional, reflecting a common pattern in ancient stories where female desire becomes a source of conflict and punishment. This creates a strong contrast between the “pure” male hero and the woman who is blamed for temptation.

      Different retellings of Joseph’s story focus on different aspects of the characters. Some versions portray Potiphar’s wife as manipulative and sinful, while others present her with more sympathy and complexity. The language used in religious and historical retellings reflects the values of the culture and time in which they were written. In many traditional versions, masculine virtue is connected with discipline and leadership, while female desire is treated as threatening to social and moral order. CC BY 4.0

    1. §1. In The Ancient Greek Hero in 24 Hours, 20§57, I focus on the painterly passage in the Hippolytus of Euripides where Phaedra, in an erotic reverie, puts herself into the picture, as it were. Into a picture of what? She pictures herself as Hippolytus hunting in the wilderness. But it can also be said that she pictures herself as Artemis hunting in the wilderness. Here is how Phaedra expresses her passionate desire (Hippolytus 219–222): ‘I swear by the gods, I have a passionate desire [erâsthai] to give a hunter’s shout to the hounds, |and, with my blond hair and all (in the background), to throw | a Thessalian javelin, holding (in the foreground) the barbed | dart in my hand’. In my translation here, I have added within parentheses the cues ‘in the background’ and ‘in the foreground’. That is because, in her painterly imagination, Phaedra even poses herself in the act of hurling a hunting javelin that is foregrounded against the golden background of her blond hair flowing in the wind. Holding this pose, as I argue in H24H, Phaedra can thus become the very image of Artemis. §2. We can actually see such a pose in the ancient visual arts. Here, for example, is a mosaic showing an Amazon hunting on horseback: <img decoding="async" class="wp-image-7382" src="http://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/16457721812_5d9d9fb07a_o_1280-1024x679.jpg" alt="Detail of mosaic pavement depicting hunting Amazons in the Nile Festival House, early 5th century CE, Sepphoris (Diocaesarea)." width="500" height="332" srcset="https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/16457721812_5d9d9fb07a_o_1280-1024x679.jpg 1024w, https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/16457721812_5d9d9fb07a_o_1280-300x199.jpg 300w, https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/16457721812_5d9d9fb07a_o_1280-125x83.jpg 125w, https://classical-inquiries.chs.harvard.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/16457721812_5d9d9fb07a_o_1280.jpg 1280w" sizes="(max-width: 500px) 100vw, 500px" />Detail of mosaic pavement depicting hunting Amazons in the Nile Festival House, early 5th century CE, Sepphoris (Diocaesarea). Image via Flickr, under a CC BY-SA 2.0 license. §3. When Phaedra sees Hippolytus for the very first time in the narrative of Pausanias 2.32.3, as I noted in the posting for 2018.06.21, she is already falling in love with the youthful hero. In that posting, I was worrying about the translation ‘fall in love’ for erân/erâsthai in the “present” or imperfective aspect of the relevant verb used by Pausanias—and for erasthênai in its aorist aspect, as he uses it elsewhere. In the present posting, 2018.08.03, I still worry about that translation—and I continue to prefer the wording ‘conceive an erotic passion’ as a more accurate way to capture the moment—but now I worry more about the actual moment of erotic passion in Pausanias 2.32.3. As we will see, that moment is really a recurrence of moments. The storytelling of Pausanias points to an untold number of moments for experiencing the erotic passion—as expressed by the “present” or imperfective aspect of the verb, erân, and by the imperfect tense of the verb apo-blepein ‘gaze away, look off into the distance’. Further, there is a divine force that presides over all these moments, embodied in the sacralized role of Aphrodite as the kataskopiā, ‘the one who is looking down from on high’. §4. Here is the relevant passage in Pausanias, where our traveler speaks of the enclosure containing the space that is sacred to both Hippolytus and Phaedra as cult heroes: {2.32.3} In the other part of the enclosure [peribolos] is a racecourse [stadion] named after Hippolytus, and looming over it is a shrine [nāos] of Aphrodite [invoked by way of the epithet] kataskopiā [‘looking down from the heights’]. Here is the reason [for the epithet]: it was at this very spot, whenever Hippolytus was exercising-naked [gumnazesthai], that she, Phaedra, feeling-an-erotic-passion-for [erân] him, used-to-gaze-away [imperfect of apo-blepein] at him from above. A myrtle bush [mursinē] still grows here, and its leaves—as I wrote at an earlier point [= 1.22.2]—have holes pricked into them. Whenever Phaedra was-feeling-there-was-no-way-out [aporeîn] and could find no relief for her erotic-passion [erōs], she would take it out on the leaves of this myrtle bush, wantonly injuring them. {2.32.4} There is also a tomb [taphos] of Phaedra, not far from the tomb [mnēma] of Hippolytus, and it [= the mnēma] is heaped-up-as-a-tumulus [kekhōstai] near the myrtle bush [mursinē]. The statue [agalma] of Asklepios was made by Timotheus, but the people of Troizen say that it is not Asklepios, but a likeness [eikōn] of Hippolytus. Also, when I saw the House [oikiā] of Hippolytus, I knew that it was his abode. In front of it is situated what they call the Fountain [krēnē] of Hēraklēs, since Hēraklēs, as the people of Troizen say, discovered the water. §5. Before further comment on Pausanias 2.32.3, I note a detail in my translation of 2.32.4. I take it that Pausanias here is guardedly indicating that he saw the tomb of Hippolytus himself, situated next to the tomb of Phaedra. Our traveler is guarded because, as he said earlier at 2.32.1 about the hero cult of Hippolytus, the people of Troizen ‘do not show [apophainein] his tomb [taphos], though they know where it is’. In the wording of Pausanias, oikiā ‘house’ can refer to the ‘abode’ of a cult hero, that is, to his tomb. And he ostentatiously uses this word here at 2.32.4. A telling parallel is the wording at Pausanias 2.23.2, where he refers to the tomb of the cult hero Adrastos as an oikiā while he calls the nearby tomb of Amphiaraos simply a hieron ‘sanctuary’—and while, even more simply, he refers to the nearby tomb of Eriphyle, wife of Amphiaraos, as a mnēma, the literal meaning of which is ‘memorial marker’. This same word mnēma is used by Pausanias here at 2.32.4 with reference to the tomb of Hippolytus. Other examples where oikiā refers to tombs of cult heroes include 2.36.8, 5.14.7, 5.20.6, 9.11.1. 9.12.3. 9.16.5. 9.16.7. §6. Returning to Pausanias 2.32.3, I conclude by arguing that the role of the goddess Aphrodite in the visualization of Phaedra’s recurrent erotic passion complements the role of the goddess Artemis in a visualization that we saw being brought to life in the poetry of Euripides. Whereas the role of Aphrodite is to be always available as the agent of erotic desire, the corresponding role of Artemis is to maintain her eternal unavailability as the object of that desire. Always unavailable, Artemis thus becomes the very picture of what is erotically desirable.

      In the story of Phaedra and Hippolytus, gender plays an important role in the construction of both desire and heroism. Hippolytus is presented as pure, disciplined, and devoted to Artemis, rejecting love and sexuality. His identity as a heroic male figure is connected with control, chastity, and distance from women. Phaedra, however, is controlled by forbidden desire and emotional suffering. This creates a contrast between masculine self-control and feminine passion that appears often in ancient literature. At the same time, Phaedra is also trapped by the expectations of honor and shame inside a patriarchal society.

      Different versions of the myth present Phaedra differently. In some versions she appears manipulative and dangerous, while in Euripides’ version she becomes more tragic and human because Aphrodite curses her with desire. This changes how readers judge her actions. The language and focus of each retelling reflect the values of the culture and time in which the story was written or translated. Ancient and later versions often place blame on female desire, while male heroism remains connected to purity, honor, and public reputation. CC BY 4.0

    1. I Now Beowulf bode in the burg of the Scyldings, leader belovéd, and long he ruled .mw-parser-output .wst-pline{color:#2E8B57;font-size:83%}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-default2{margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-r{float:right;text-indent:0;margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-l{float:left;text-align:right;margin-left:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-or{float:right;text-align:right;margin-right:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-n{font-style:normal}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-i{font-style:italic}55 in fame with all folk, since his father had gone away from the world, till awoke an heir, haughty Healfdene, who held through life, sage and sturdy, the Scyldings glad.[1] Then, one after one, there woke to him, 60 to the chieftain of clansmen, children four: Heorogar, then Hrothgar, then Halga brave; and I heard that —— was ——’s queen,[2] the Heathoscylfing’s helpmate dear.

      In this version of Beowulf, heroism is again connected with fame, war, leadership, and family bloodline. The male figures are described as strong rulers and warriors, showing how masculinity in the poem is tied to honor and power. Hrothgar receives “glory of war,” which presents battle and military success as important qualities of the heroic male identity. At the same time, the queen is described mainly as a “helpmate,” showing how women are often placed in supportive roles around male heroes rather than being central figures themselves.

      Francis Barton Gummere’s translation uses formal and poetic language such as “glory of war” and “chieftain of clansmen.” The elevated style creates a legendary and heroic atmosphere. Compared to the Morris and Wyatt translation, Gummere’s wording feels slightly clearer and more direct, but both translations glorify masculine power and warfare. The language also reflects older cultural values where men are associated with leadership and public honor, while women are connected with loyalty, marriage, and support inside the heroic society. CC BY 4.0

    1. IN the burgs then was biding Beowulf the Scylding,Dear King of the people, for long was he dwellingFar-famed of folks (his father turn'd elsewhere,From his stead the Chief wended) till awoke to him afterHealfdene the high, and long while he held it,Ancient and war-eager, o'er the glad Scyldings:Of his body four bairns are forth to him rimed;Into the world woke the leader of war-hosts.mw-parser-output .wst-pline{color:#2E8B57;font-size:83%}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-default2{margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-r{float:right;text-indent:0;margin-left:1em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-l{float:left;text-align:right;margin-left:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-or{float:right;text-align:right;margin-right:-3em;width:2.5em}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-n{font-style:normal}.mw-parser-output .wst-pline-i{font-style:italic}60 Heorogar; eke Hrothgar, and Halga the good;Heard I that Elan queen was she of Ongentheow,That Scylding of battle, the bed-mate behalsed.

      In this passage from Beowulf, heroism is connected with kingship, war, family lineage, and masculine strength. The men are described as “war-eager” and “leaders of war-hosts,” showing how male identity in the poem is built around battle, honor, and power. The heroic image is passed from father to son, making masculinity and leadership appear connected to bloodline and inheritance. At the same time, the queen is mainly introduced as a “bed-mate,” showing how women in the poem are often defined through marriage and their relationship to male rulers instead of through independent action.

      The translation by William Morris and Alfred John Wyatt uses old-fashioned and poetic language such as “war-hosts” and “Scylding of battle.” This creates a strong heroic tone that glorifies masculinity and warfare. The elevated style reflects the values of both the medieval story and the nineteenth-century translators, who emphasized honor, nobility, and male power. The language makes the male heroes appear legendary, while female figures remain more limited and symbolic inside the heroic world of the poem. CC BY 4.0

    1. Enkidu had not known 87To eat food. 88To drink wine 89He had not been taught. 90The woman opened her mouth and 91Spoke to Enkidu: 92“Eat food, O Enkidu, 93The provender of life!

      In this passage from The Epic of Gilgamesh, Enkidu learns the customs of human society through the guidance of the woman. Food and wine symbolize civilization and social life. Before this moment, Enkidu lives like a wild being outside human culture. The woman becomes the person who teaches him how to live among people. This shows how women in ancient epics are often connected with knowledge, civilization, and transformation, while male heroes are connected with strength and nature.

      Compared to Langdon’s translation, Clay and Jastrow’s version uses simpler and more direct language such as “Eat food” and “Drink wine, the custom of the land.” The wording feels more human and easier to understand. At the same time, the woman’s role still mainly exists to guide the male hero into civilization, reflecting the patriarchal structure found in many ancient stories and older translations. CC BY 4.0

    1. But Enkidu understood not. 7Bread to eat, 8beer to drink, 9he had not been taught. [215] 10The hierodule opened her mouth 11and said unto Enkidu:— 12“Eat bread, oh Enkidu!

      In this passage from The Epic of Gilgamesh, Enkidu begins to leave behind his wild life and enter human society. Bread and beer symbolize civilization, culture, and the customs of the land. The woman becomes the person who teaches him these social rules. This shows how women in many ancient epics are connected with guidance, knowledge, and transformation, while men are often connected with physical strength and wilderness. Enkidu cannot fully become a hero until he learns how to live among people.

      Langdon’s translation uses formal language such as “said unto Enkidu,” giving the passage a serious and almost sacred tone. The wording reflects the older literary style of the translator’s time. At the same time, the woman’s role mainly exists to help the male hero grow, which reflects the patriarchal structure common in many ancient stories and older translations. CC BY 4.0

    1. Me thought two women came before my sight, Richly apparelled, this in Persian robes Was habited, and that in Dorian garb; In height above their sex pre-eminent, Faultless in beauty, sisters of one race. As Fatherland the one by lot had gained Hellas, the other the Barbaric land.

      In Anna Swanwick’s translation of The Persians, the two women again symbolize Greece and Persia, but the language creates a different emotional effect from Robert Potter’s version. Swanwick describes the women as “Faultless in beauty” and “sisters of one race,” which emphasizes their shared humanity before conflict divides them. This makes the later tension between Greece and Persia feel more tragic and political rather than simply heroic. The women represent entire nations, showing how female figures in ancient literature were often used symbolically to express ideas about identity, culture, and war. Their value is connected to beauty, nation, and emotion, while male figures remain connected to leadership and military action.

      Compared to Potter’s translation, Swanwick’s language feels softer and more human. Potter’s version sounds more dramatic and elevated, while Swanwick focuses more on emotional and cultural division. Swanwick also uses the phrase “Barbaric land,” which reflects the Greek cultural separation between Greeks and non-Greeks. This wording reinforces the idea of “Us” versus “Them,” a major theme in ancient political literature. The translation also reflects the values of the nineteenth century, when translators often preserved cultural hierarchies and national identity inside classical texts. Through this language, the women become symbols of political struggle rather than independent voices, revealing the patriarchal structure behind the heroic narrative. CC BY 4.0

    1. Alethought two women stood before my eyes     Gorgeously vested, one in Persian robes     Adorn'd, the other in the Doric garb.     With more than mortal majesty they moved,     Of peerless beauty; sisters too they seem'd,     Though distant each from each they chanced to dwell,     In Greece the one, on the barbaric coast     The other.

      In this passage from The Persians, the two women symbolize Greece and Persia. Even though they are described as beautiful and powerful, they mainly exist to represent nations and political identity. The Greek woman wears “Doric garb,” while the Persian woman wears “Persian robes,” immediately creating a distinction between “Us” and “Them.” This shows how gender is used symbolically inside the text. The women are not presented as independent individuals, but as embodiments of their cultures and the future conflict between them. The passage also connects femininity with emotion, beauty, and national identity, while the male hero remains connected to action, leadership, and war.

      Robert Potter’s translation uses elevated and dramatic language such as “peerless beauty” and “more than mortal majesty.” This creates a grand and heroic tone that reflects the literary style of Potter’s time. The women almost appear mythical instead of human. The translation romanticizes both figures and softens the political tension through poetic language. This reflects how older translations often idealized women as symbols of honor, beauty, or civilization rather than giving them their own agency or voice. The language also strengthens the national divide between Greece and Persia, presenting identity through visual and cultural difference. CC BY 4.0

    1. GO BACK ANDFIND OUTWHOM HE LOSTFIRST - HIMSELFOR ME'?THENCOME TOTAKE ME

      In the story of Draupadi from the Mahabharata and its comic version, the idea of the hero is strongly connected to gender roles. The male heroes, like the Pandavas, are supposed to protect honor and justice. However, in the court scene, when Draupadi is humiliated, they remain silent. This moment challenges the traditional image of the male hero. They have power, but they fail to act when it is most important.

      Draupadi shows a different kind of strength. She does not stay silent. She questions the men in the court and demands justice. This is important, because women in these stories are usually expected to be quiet and obedient. Draupadi breaks this role. She speaks with courage, even when she is alone. This changes the idea of the hero. The hero is not only the one who has power, but also the one who dares to speak against injustice.

      The language of the original Mahabharata is formal and serious, and it reflects a culture where male authority is strong. The comic version uses simple words and powerful images, which make the scene more emotional and easier to understand. It highlights the injustice more clearly and makes the silence of the men feel even stronger. This shows how modern versions can question older values and reveal the limits of traditional heroism.

      Overall, this story shows that gender defines who is expected to act and who is expected to suffer. But Draupadi’s voice challenges this idea and forces us to rethink what a true hero is.

    1. Sita Sings the Blues

      In the Ramayana and in Sita Sings the Blues, the idea of the hero changes because of gender. In the original text, Rama is shown as the perfect hero. He follows duty, honor, and social rules. Sita is expected to be loyal, quiet, and pure. Her role is not to act, but to accept. This shows a strong patriarchal view, where the man is the hero and the woman must support him, even if she suffers.

      In Sita Sings the Blues, this idea is challenged. The story gives more attention to Sita’s feelings and pain. We start to question Rama’s actions. He is still “the hero” by tradition, but emotionally he feels distant and even unfair. Sita, on the other hand, becomes stronger in a different way. She does not have power, but she endures pain with dignity. This changes the definition of a hero. The hero is no longer just the one who has control, but the one who survives injustice.

      The language and style of each version are very different. The Ramayana uses formal and traditional language, which supports the social rules of its time. It presents gender roles as normal and correct. In contrast, Sita Sings the Blues uses simple language, humor, and modern music. This makes the audience think more critically. It exposes the unfairness in the story instead of hiding it. The modern style breaks the authority of the old text and shows how culture and time can shape what we accept as “heroic.”

      This comparison shows that the idea of the hero is not fixed. It depends on gender roles and on the time in which the story is told. What was once seen as honorable can now be questioned. In this way, Sita’s silence in the past becomes a strong voice in the present.