Epilogue without end: A metonymic reading of a love story

_1.1.1a … a boy called Habrokomēs. This name Habrokomēs means ‘having a komē [head of hair] that is habrā [luxuriant]’.

_1.1.1b … in all Ionia. Throughout the narrative, there is a sense of Ionian identity. More specifically, since the city of Ephesus is a pre-eminent city in the Ionian regions of Asia Minor and the outlying islands, there is also a sense of Ephesian identity, as expressed by the persistent use of the words epikhōrios and enkhōrios, both of which I translate as ‘native’. Such references create the impression that the narration must be happening in Ionia in general and in Ephesus in particular.

_1.1.3 … And there were already those who made proskynesis to him. The noun proskunēsis and the corresponding verb proskuneîn both refer to a ritual act of ‘worshipping a superhuman power’. We have already seen the verb proskuneîn in 1§131. The ritual act of proskuneîn, which I translate here simply as ‘make proskynesis’, is an indirect ‘kiss’: the idea is to kiss whatever comes into contact with the one who is worshipped—as in the case of kissing the clothing, or the ground walked on, or the air between the worshipped and the worshipper, and so on. {252|253} The ostentatious use of ‘already’ here suggests that the episodic practice of making the gesture of proskynesis to Habrokomes in the past time of the narrative is a prototype for an ongoing ritual practice of worshipping Habrokomes in the present time of narrating the narrative in Ephesus.

_1.1.6a … more beautiful than every Eros. The rhetoric of mocking Eros here makes the god multiple.

_1.1.6b … For wherever Habrokomes was seen, there was no beautiful statue in view, nor was there an image [eikōn] that could be praised. By implication, the picturing of Eros is blocked by the view of Habrokomes in the past time of the narrative. That is, there are no statues or pictures of Eros to be seen in the past time of the narrative, as opposed to the present time of narrating the narrative. It is as if the narrative exists in a time frame in which there are no images of Eros. Habrokomes with his good looks has ‘become’ Eros. By contrast, in the present time when the story is being told in Ephesus, the antithesis of mutually exclusive viewing has given way to a synthesis of inclusive viewing. From the perspective of those who worship the god Eros, Habrokomes has exactly the same silhouette as Eros, while from the perspective of Eros as a god to be worshipped, the figure of Eros is projecting the figure Habrokomes—with the unfortunate result that no one can see Eros. So, those who are hearing the story are now in a world where they cannot see past Habrokomes. The blocking of the view of Eros by the view of Habrokomes is an eclipse, and only the penumbra of the light emanating from Eros can show through. [2]

_1.2.1a … Eros is now feeling anger [mēnis]. The present tense suggests that this response of Eros is universal, not particular. That is, the response of Eros is not restricted to the past time of the narrative but extends to the present time of narrating the narrative.

_1.2.1b … And he was devising a tekhnē against the boy. The tekhnē is not only the ‘art’ of Eros in capturing Habrokomes: it is also the art of the narrative in captivating those who hear the narration.

_1.2.2a … A native festival [epikhōrios heortē] of Artemis was in progress, extending from the city all the way to the sacred space [hieron]. The distance is seven stadium-lengths. It was the regulation that there should be a procession [= verb of pompē] of all the native [epikhōrioi] {253|254} girls. Here we see a double synecdoche of procession and festival, parallel to what we saw most recently in 4§§169–176.

_1.2.2b … who would be arranging [kosmeîn] their looks in the most expensive ways [polu-telōs]. The adverb polu-telōs ‘in the most expensive ways’ is derived from the adjective polu-telēs, meaning ‘involving much expense’. But there is a deeper meaning underneath the surface, since the noun telos from which the adjective derives means not only ‘expense’ but also ‘the perfecting of a ritual process’. [3] In the present context, the arrangement of each girl’s outer appearance is a ritual necessity, and this necessity is conveyed by the verb kosmeîn, which refers to the ways in which someone ‘arranges’ her or his exterior appearance. This verb is derived from the noun kosmos, meaning ‘order, arrangement, self-arrangement’. These same words kosmos and kosmeîn can refer not only to the microcosmic self-arrangement or make-up of a person whose outer appearance is beautifully put together for a public ritual event—hence the meaning of the modern word cosmetic—but also to the macrocosmic putting together of the universe, the cosmos. Later on, at 1.2.4 and at 1.2.5, we see another expression of this “cosmic” and “cosmetic” theme. Further, at 1.2.5, the kosmos or self-arrangement of Anthia is synchronized with hōrā, that is, with the seasonality of the entire universe. [4] Still further, at 1.3.1, we see that the very idea of a procession that leads into a festival is conceived as a kosmos—as a universal whole in the sense of the modern word cosmos. That is why, in the context of 1.3.1, the entire procession held in honor of Artemis is called a kosmos. In this same context, the self-arrangement of a participant in the ritual process of a procession is meant to be synchronized with the cosmos.

_1.2.2c … all the ephebes … who were the same age as Habrokomes. The wording of the narrative implies that Habrokomes was a model of the age group, not simply a member, like the others. If the narrative, as myth, is an aetiology of the ritual of the pompē or ‘procession’, then Habrokomes becomes ex post facto a model for the ritual.

_1.2.4a … First in order were the sacred [hiera] objects and the torches and the baskets and the incense. I note the metonymy: those who process in the procession are indexed in terms of what they are carrying in the sequence of processing. {254|255}

_1.2.4b … After them came the horses and the hunting dogs and the hunting equipment—some of the equipment was connected with war but most of it was connected with peace. We see here further metonymy by way of sequencing. The identities of the persons linked with these features of the procession are elided.

_1.2.4c … Each of the girls arranged [kosmeîn] her looks in such a way as one does oneself up for one’s lover. Here, as I already noted, we see clearly the “cosmetic” aspect of kosmos. What is so deeply personalized, however, is also at the same time broadly universalized. I highlight the fact that the verb kosmeîn, referring to the self-arrangement of each girl, is used here in the pluperfect form. This pluperfect has a metonymic significance. As David A. Smith has shown, when a verb in the pluperfect tense is inserted within a sequence of other verbs in the past tense, the pluperfect has the function of indicating a climactic moment in the narrative. [5] In the context of describing the self-arrangement of each girl in the procession, the pluperfect here is highlighting, one at a time, a singular climactic moment in the personal experience of each girl participating in the procession.

_1.2.5a … Leading the processional file of girls was Anthiā. Here is the first mention of Anthiā in the narrative; the name derives from anthos ‘blossom’. She is a perfect match for Habrokomēs, whose name as we have seen means ‘having a komē [head of hair] that is habrā [luxuriant]’. The metonymy of the lovers’ names, Habrokomēs and Anthiā, is symmetrical with the metonymy of a luxuriant head of hair and a beautiful garland of blossoms intertwined with the hair. Such a garland is to be worn at a festival. On the occasion of a festival, garlands and hair go together metonymically. I am reminded here of a modern aphorism: “Love and marriage go together like a horse and carriage.” [6]

_1.2.5b … And the manifold self-arrangement [kosmos] of her pose [skhēma] was put together in such a way as to achieve perfect seasonality [hōrā]. As I have already argued in an earlier annotation (at 1.2.2[b]), the kosmos or self-arrangement of Anthia—that is, the way in which she is put together—is synchronized with hōrā, that is, with the seasonality of the entire cosmos. Her self-arrangement is seen as the pose of a dancer. The ancient Greek term skhēma (which becomes the modern {255|256} word scheme) can refer to the “freeze-frame” or stop-motion pose of a dancer or of a statue. [7]

_1.2.7a … There were arrows and javelins in it [= the quiver]. This detail is clarified by another detail mentioned earlier at 1.2.4, where it is said that the peacetime weapons of hunting outshine the wartime weapons.

_1.2.7b … At that moment, at the very sight of her, the crowd shouted out. … Some, experiencing astonishment [ekplēxis], were saying that she is the goddess. This moment, which creates a personal as well as a communal experience of ekplēxis ‘astonishment’, marks a sight that can truly be described as an epiphany. I recall here my working definition of epiphany at 1§§128–129, elaborated at 2§§14–15.

_1.2.7c … Others were saying that she was some kind of surrogate for the goddess. The surrogacy is expressed by way of the verb peripoieîsthai in the sense of ‘be encompassed’: it is as if Anthia were ‘encompassed’ by the goddess. A distinction is being made here between the perception of a full-grade initiate, who recognizes the moment when a human becomes divine in the ritual climax of an epiphany, and the perception of a partial-grade initiate, whose powers of inductiveness have not yet reached the telos or ‘ritual perfection’ of full understanding.

_1.2.8 … and they turned their gaze [opsis plural] at him and were shouting, experiencing astonishment [ekplēxis] at the view [theā]. Just as the viewers at 1.2.7 experience ekplēxis ‘astonishment’ in seeing Anthia as an epiphany of the goddess Artemis, so also now at 1.2.8 they experience ekplēxis ‘astonishment’ in seeing Habrokomes as an epiphany of the discreetly unnamed god Eros. The discretion is motivated by the overt virginity of the goddess Artemis. I must take this moment here to express my own personal sense of astonishment as I marvel at the ritual precision of the language that is used here in describing the double epiphany that is mediated by Anthia and Habrokomes.

_1.3.1 … When the procession [pompē] finally reached its culmination [telos] and the whole crowd entered the sacred space in order to make sacrifice [thuein] and when the arrangement [kosmos] of the procession [pompē] was finally dissolved and all the men and women entered the same space, as well as all the ephebes and girls, then it was that the two of them get to see one other. To show the symmetrical arrangement of the syntax here, I quote the original {256|257} Greek, with special highlighting: Ὡς οὖν ἐτετέλεστο ἡ πομπή ἦλθον δὲ εἰς τὸ ἱερὸν θύσοντες ἅπαν τὸ πλῆθος καὶ ὁ τῆς πομπῆς κόσμος ἐλέλυτο ᾔεσαν δὲ ἐς ταὐτὸν ἄνδρες καὶ γυναῖκες, ἔφηβοι καὶ παρθένοι, ἐνταῦθα ὁρῶσιν ἀλλήλους. The highlighted form e-te-teles-to, which I translated as ‘finally reached is culmination’, is the pluperfect of the verb teleîsthai meaning ‘reach a telos or point of ritual completion’. This form is correlated, by way of the conjunction kai meaning ‘and’, with another highlighted form, e-le-lu-to, which I translated as ‘was finally dissolved’ and which is the pluperfect of the verb luesthai meaning ‘be dissolved’. So, the when-clause here introduces two correlated pluperfect forms signaling a climax in the sequence of action, and both pluperfects mark the same climax, expressing it in two different ways. Further, these two pluperfects are each followed by consecutive clauses introduced by the conjunction de meaning ‘and’, where both clauses mean the same thing: (1) ‘and [de] the whole crowd entered the sacred space’, which comes after ‘when the procession [pompē] finally reached its culmination [telos]’, and (2) ‘and [de] all the men and women entered the same space, as well as all the ephebes and girls’, which comes after ‘when the arrangement [kosmos] of the procession [pompē] was finally dissolved’. In the logic of this sequence of events, the two pluperfects are expressing the same climactic ritual moment, which is when the pompē ‘procession’ reaches its culmination and can finally be dissolved, so that the participants may now finally enter the sacred space of Artemis, where they will now perform the sacrifice that is signaled by the verb thuein ‘sacrifice’. This complex when-clause is then followed by the simplex main clause, where a verb in the present tense captures the moment when Anthia and Habrokomes finally get to see one another for the very first time. So, the trajectory of the pompē is not only the procession in and of itself but also the plot of the story, which climaxes in sacrifice, which in turn signals the moment when the two lovers finally get to see one another. I am ready to say, then, that the plot of the story, as a metonymic sequence, corresponds to the order of the procession, which is a parallel universe of metonymic sequencing. That said, I have come to the point that I anticipated in 5§4: to process in a procession is to participate in the actual process of metonymy. To put it another way, a procession is a process of metonymy.

_1.3.2 … And he gave himself up completely to the view [theā] and was captured as the god’s prisoner of war. Again, a pluperfect here marks the climactic moment. {257|258}

_1.3.3 … Then, having finished the sacrifice [thuein], they departed from the [sacred] space in sadness and feeling resentful about the speed of the departure. Clearly, the act of thuein ‘sacrificing’ here is not just the slaughtering and cooking and dividing and consuming of beef but rather, metonymically, it is also the whole festival and all the experiences that come with it. When the sacrifice is over, the party is over. So, the happy part of the story is finished for now. and the lingering aftereffect is a melancholic desire for a reprise of the story—for experiencing the story as a re-enactment of the whole myth-ritual complex that was the festival of Artemis in Ephesus.

_1.3.4 … Only the moment they got back did each of the two realize just how far they had got themselves into trouble. Again we see here a pluperfect of a climactic moment. In this case, the two characters are made to realize the climax of their own story.

_5.11.2 … A major festival [heortē] was being celebrated …, and there was a procession [pompē] and a sacrifice [thusiā]. Here we see the double synecdoche of pompē ‘procession’ and thusiā ‘sacrifice’.

_5.11.3 … to go on a search in hopes of finding out something, anything, about Anthia. As of now, Anthia is a vision that has completely disappeared from the view of the searchers. But soon they will be contemplating the komē ‘hair’ as if they could see all of Anthia.

_5.12.1a … They look at [blepein] the offerings and recognize the names of their masters. The searchers, after having read the inscription that Anthia had left behind in the sacred place, can now recognize Anthia just by looking at (blepein) her offering of hair [komē].

_5.12.1b … The first thing they do is to greet the hair [komē] and weep over it many times over, as if they were looking at [blepein] Anthia herself. By way of metonymy, the big picture becomes visible merely by way of looking at (blepein) the hair of Anthia—as if they were looking at (blepein) Anthia herself. We have here a most striking example of ritualized synecdoche.

_5.12.1c … in hopes of being able to find that [ekeinē] woman herself. The pronoun ekeinē, referring to ‘that’ woman, visualizes the totality of Anthia in the discourse of the narrative. This pronoun ekeinos/ekeinē is conventionally used in contexts describing an epiphany. [10]