Classical Wisdom Weekly

Ares: The Greek God of War

Wed, 29 Jul 2020 06:25:03 GMT

Written by Edward Whelan, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom In the Ancient World, the most powerful forces that shaped human destiny were personified, by polytheistic religions in the form of Gods. In this way, the ancients believed that they could influence impersonal forces and powers. One of these was war. In the past, conflict was a constant fact of everyday life, and peace was rare. This is what made the Greek God of War, Ares, so influential in mythology and religion. The origin of the myth of Ares Ares was the son of Zeus and Hera, was regarded as one of the Twelve Olympians, and was one of the major deities of the Greek world. The etymology of the name Ares means curse or ruin. Unlike many other religions, such as Roman mythology, the Greeks did not worship war. They were very ambivalent about the God who personified for them the power and bravery needed for victory in war. For the Greeks, he represented the worse in war and conflict. Ares was worshipped, it appears, by the Mycenaean Greeks from at least 1200 BC. In some sources he was born in Thrace, which was an area populated with fearsome, war-like people. This god was never popular and there were very few temples and shrines to him. He was mainly worshipped by armies who obviously needed his support in battle and on campaigns. There were some archaic practices and rituals associated with this god, such as the sacrifice of a dog in the night. [caption id="attachment_25978" align="aligncenter" width="550"] Helmeted young warrior, so-called Ares. Roman copy from a Greek original—this is a plaster replica, the original is now stored in the Museum of the Villa. Canope at the Villa Adriana[/caption] Ares had a sister named Eris, who was the divine personification of discord and disorder. The character of Ares was not an attractive one. He was touchy and quick to anger and was something of a bully. However, during the war, he always favored those who displayed the greatest courage on the field of battle. The Greeks believed that he provided soldiers with the courage and strength to win in a war. However, the support of Ares did not always guarantee victory, as is shown in the Iliad. The god of war did not save the Trojans from their catastrophic defeat. While many Greeks were ambivalent about this deity, that was not always the case. In Sparta, which was a society dedicated to war, he was revered as the model soldier and a paragon of manly virtue. The loves of Ares The god of war was, like other Greek gods, a serial adulterer. He never married, but his consort was Aphrodite, the Goddess of War. This union was intended to demonstrate that both war and love were forms of strife and struggle. However, Aphrodite was married to Hephaestus, the god of metalworking, a fact that would come back to haunt them. [caption id="attachment_25981" align="aligncenter" width="550"] Vatican, Rome, Italy. Statue of Ares, Scopas's influence. Brooklyn Museum Archives, Goodyear Archival Collection.[/caption] The affair between Ares and the Goddess of Love was public, and the couple had six children. They had the attributes of one or both of their parents. For example, Eros, the God of Sex and Love, was their son and so was Phobos, the personification of fear. Ares also had affairs with two of the Muses, a Titan, and one of the Furies with whom he had more children. Then he had several affairs and more offspring with semi-divine and human lovers. In one myth, Ares is the father of The Amazons, a race of warrior women, who were probably modeled on Scythian female warriors. Stories of Ares There are several tales related to Ares in Greek myths, often disrespectful of the deity of war and prowess in battle. In the Odyssey, Ares and Aphrodite are trapped in an iron net created by Hephaestus, enraged about his wife’s affair with a being he despised. [caption id="attachment_25975" align="aligncenter" width="550"] Mars and Venus Surprised by Vulcan (1827) by Alexandre Charles Guillemot (detail).[/caption]

The Love of Ares and Aphrodite Crowned with flowers … how the two had first made love in Hephaestus’ mansion, all in secret. Ares had showered her with gifts and showered Hephaestus’ marriage bed with shame but a messenger ran to tell the god of fire— Helios, lord of the sun, who’d spied the couple lost in each other’s arms and making love. Hephaestus, hearing the heart-wounding story, bustled toward his forge, brooding on his revenge— planted the huge anvil on its block and beat out chains, not to be slipped or broken, all to pin the lovers on the spot. ~ Odyssey, Book VIII

Also in Homer, Ares' parents, Zeus and Hera, are shown as hating him, because of all the carnage that he caused. He also comes into conflict with Poseidon because his son had raped one of the God of War’s daughters. Ares played an important role in the Trojan War, fighting alongside the Trojans—his intervention almost helped them to victory. However, Athena, the Goddess of military strategy, with the backing of Zeus, entered the fray on behalf of the Greeks and this forced Ares into a humiliating retreat. [caption id="attachment_25982" align="aligncenter" width="550"] Relief of Mars Ultor, 26–14 BCE; in the Cleveland Museum of Art. Source: Britannica.[/caption]

They were not long about beginning, and Ares piercer of shields opened the battle. Sword in hand he sprang at once upon Athena and reviled her [...] As he spoke he struck her on the terrible tasseled aegis—so terrible that not even can Jove's lightning pierce it. Here did murderous Ares strike her with his great spear. She drew back and with her strong hand seized a stone that was lying on the plain—great and rugged and black—which men of old had set for the boundary of a field. With this she struck Ares on the neck, and brought him down. Nine roods did he cover in his fall, and his hair was all soiled in the dust, while his armour rang rattling round him. But Athena laughed and vaunted over him saying, "Idiot, have you not learned how far stronger I am than you, but you must still match yourself against me? Thus do your mother's curses now roost upon you, for she is angry and would do you mischief because you have deserted the Achaeans and are helping the Trojans." ~ Iliad, Book XXI

In another myth, Hades, the god of the dead, is outwitted by Sisyphus and imprisoned. With Hades in chains, nobody could die and war thus became meaningless. This, of course, directly affected Ares who rushed to set Hades free, delivering Sisyphus to him. Ares and his influence The Greek deity was very important even though he was not popular. For example, the Athenian court, the Areopagus, was built on a hill dedicated to this God. Ares was very influential in the Roman conception of Mars. Over time, the old Latin God of battle and valor in war became identical with the Greek God. [caption id="attachment_25976" align="aligncenter" width="550"] The Areopagus as viewed from the Acropolis.[/caption] Ares was often depicted with a helmet and a lance, and his symbol was the dog. The lover of Aphrodite and the personification of war has become a popular figure, appearing in movies, television series, and even video games. Conclusion The Greek God of War was one of the most important of all the deities in the Pantheon. He was not a popular God and he represented the worst aspects of war. As a result, the myths are not respectful of this deity and this signifies the hatred the Greeks had for conflict and battle. References

Graves, Robert (1990). The Greeks Myths. London: Pelican.
Homer (2000). The Iliad. London: Penguin

The Banishment of Julia Augusti (PART 1)

Tue, 28 Jul 2020 06:46:44 GMT

Written by Mary Naples, Contributing Writer, Classical Wisdom

“I would certainly not describe as mercy, what was actually the exhaustion of cruelty.”

~ Seneca, On Mercy (referring to the deified Augustus)

“Let her be banished for life,” Augustus is recorded as saying about the harsh exile of his only biological child, Julia, to the barren and windswept penal-island of Pandateria (present-day Ventotene). Banishment from Rome, however, was not enough for the wayward princess. The emperor had further decreed that aside from the guards who kept watch, no men were allowed on the island. The thinking was that because she was a woman of loose virtue, being deprived of male companionship would make for a more exacting punishment. To that end, wine was forbidden on that stygian enclave and food provisions were at a mere minimum. In other words, Julia was in prison. Adored within the palace and outside of it, Julia was charismatic, sophisticated, and renowned for her joie de vivre. When word of her banishment got out all of Rome was in an uproar. No one had foreseen that even a wet blanket like Augustus was capable of exiling his only biological child. In an attempt to restore their adored princess, whom they lovingly referred to as “the merry widow,” the people came out in droves for her. They held effigies calling for her release as they packed the curia and filled the streets with noise and rancor. An indifferent Augustus decried: “Fire will sooner mix with water than that she shall be allowed to return.” In a playful retort, the people threw fiery torches on the Tiber. [caption id="attachment_26015" align="aligncenter" width="550"] View of the Tiber looking towards Vatican City.[/caption] The emperor was not amused. The sight of the flares aglow on the river made him increasingly dig in his heels. He charged: “If you ever bring up this matter again, may the gods afflict you with similar daughters or wives.” Although the protests eventually abated, the people’s princess was not forgotten. Once the apple of her father’s eye, Augustus had playfully referred to his daughter as “Juliola.” An outspoken and independent-minded Julia would oftentimes spar with her strait-laced dad, inducing him to famously quip: “There are two wayward daughters that I have to put up with, the Roman commonwealth and Julia.” Despite the back and forth, by all that is used to measure a father-daughter relationship in ancient Rome, theirs appeared adequate. So, what could account for their sudden break? Over these long millennia, Julia’s reputation has been maligned by ancient writers and contemporary historians alike, but was it something more than loose morals that set her father against her? Make no mistake, being labeled a woman of ill-repute was reason enough to land Julia on the prison island during the authoritarian Augustan era. All the same, according to Suetonius, Augustus debated putting his daughter to death. In fact, after Julia’s freedwoman, Phoebe, committed suicide over her mistress’s scandal, Augustus bewailed: “I had rather be the father of Phoebe than of Julia.” [caption id="attachment_26017" align="aligncenter" width="550"] Bust of Julia the Elder[/caption] Considering the severity of her father’s reaction to the disgrace, some believe that Julia’s fall was due to her involvement in a political intrigue to overthrow him. But why act against her better interests when her two eldest sons were adopted by Augustus and primed for the throne? This Classical Wisdom series examines the life of Julia and explores the possible reasons behind her harsh exile, delving into the politics of the era and the climate of paranoia and suspicion within the Julio-Claudian clan itself. One big happy family, Julia has the unfortunate distinction of being the first in a long line of Julio-Claudian (more Julio than Claudian) women forced into exile by the ruling males of their family—with no trial or due process. In fact, with the exception of her granddaughter Drusilla (who died of fever at twenty-three), all of Julia’s female descendants were exiled—the only one surviving her exile was Agrippina the Younger. In order to understand the power play between the Julio-Claudians, it is useful to have some background on the clan. On the day Julia Augusti was born, her father—merely Octavian back then—saw fit to divorce his second wife, her mother, Scribonia. As grounds for divorce in Rome, a husband might merely state that in addition to his wife being troublesome, she was also bad in bed; both reasons Octavian used in his divorce decree. [caption id="attachment_17412" align="aligncenter" width="550"] Head of Augustus as Pontifex Maximus, Roman artwork of the late Augustan period, last decade of the 1st century BC[/caption] Though some say that Octavian might have thought twice about deserting his wife, if she had had the good sense to produce a son for him. Others suggest he waited until after she was born so that, as father, he could lay claim to her. Children in ancient Rome were the possessions of their fathers yet sources indicate that because she was merely female Octavian was in no rush to bring her into his home; instead Julia may have spent the first few years of life with her mother. If the would-be primogenitor of the Julio-Claudian dynasty had high hopes for a long line of offspring with his next wife, the gods had other plans. Although their fifty-one year marriage could be charged with many things, being fruitful was not among them—Augustus and Livia would produce no issue. Perhaps it was their shocking courtship that the gods frowned upon. Indeed, the emperor who would become known for his draconian marriage laws had himself a tarnished record in that regard. With a pregnant wife at home, a married Octavian took up with the virtuous Livia while she was married to her first husband, Tiberius Claudius Nero, and carrying their second child. Behavior scandalous even by the looser moral standards of the Roman Republic. Three days after giving birth to what would be her second and last child, Livia became Octavian’s third, final, and most indelible wife. An ignominious start by the first imperial couple who would define themselves by their strict morality.

Do We NEED Pain? Is Suffering Essential for Understanding?

Mon, 27 Jul 2020 16:49:40 GMT

‘Gain a child, lose a tooth’ After childbirth, obviously, and a few bad stints of food poisoning in Thailand... and Mexico... and northern Brazil, it was definitely the next most painful experience in my life. The old wives tale (which has subsequently been proved true - and part of my theory on why Aristotle thought women had less teeth) resulted in a two hour extraction... An enameled sacrifice for contributing to the human race. [caption id="attachment_6212" align="aligncenter" width="536"] Maybe Aristotle could count teeth after all... [/caption] The procedure was brutal - saws, pliers and heavy metal objects were employed. The dentist was woefully stingy with the anesthesia (from the Greek word "without sensation". This, however, gave your editor ample time to contemplate the deeper things in life, albeit punctuated by bouts of screaming. First and foremost, thank goodness for modern medicine! Moments like these give us small glimpses into the, no doubt, pain filled past. Then I started to conjure up the Stoics. After all, they were experts at handling difficult situations. In the words of the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, as found in his diary, “Meditations”:

“For times when you feel pain: See that it doesn’t disgrace you, or degrade your intelligence—doesn’t keep it from acting rationally or unselfishly. And in most cases what Epicurus said should help: that pain is neither unbearable nor unending, as long as you keep in mind its limits and don’t magnify them in your imagination. And keep in mind too that pain often comes in disguise— as drowsiness, fever, loss of appetite. . . . When you’re bothered by things like that, remind yourself: “I’m giving into pain.”

Of course, Marcus Aurelius was very familiar with pain. His physical frailty was notorious, and of great concern to his subjects. We know that Marcus suffered from chronic chest and stomach pains, problems sleeping, and poor appetite, among other symptoms. Around 174-175 AD, in fact, he was in such poor health that false rumors that he was dying, or already dead, actually spread throughout the empire. But Marcus Aurelius wasn’t the only Stoic to suffer. Zeno of Citium, the founder of the Stoic Philosophy, survived a difficult shipwreck and loss of wealth. Epictetus spent his childhood as a lame slave, perhaps crippled by his very master. Seneca suffered from asthma, tuberculosis, exile...and Nero. [caption id="attachment_4653" align="aligncenter" width="370"] Seneca Most Certainly Suffered... [/caption] And yet these pains did not stop them. In fact, they may have done the exact opposite. In our modern life we try to spend all of it pain free. We take pills for the smallest inconveniences, we trade our hard earned resources for every comfort, and all procedures are preceded by all the expected numbing agents (except by a certain sadist Argentine dentist). But what if the pain is good? Maybe Eve’s curse is a path to greater understanding and wisdom? Men drawn to the battlefield to access previously inexperienced revelations? Essentially, do we NEED pain? Is suffering essential for understanding? As always, you can write to me directly at anya@classicalwisdom.com or comment below.