An alternative Tantalus

Homer’s lavishly depicted Tantalus is the commonly known version but there is a second tradition attested in several of the major archaic poets that, while simpler, is not without its charm. First, the Odyssey (11.582):

καὶ μὴν Τάνταλον εἰσεῖδον κρατέρ᾽ ἄλγε᾽ ἔχοντα
ἑστεῶτ᾽ ἐν λίμνῃ: ἡ δὲ προσέπλαζε γενείῳ:
στεῦτο δὲ διψάων, πιέειν δ᾽ οὐκ εἶχεν ἑλέσθαι:
ὁσσάκι γὰρ κύψει᾽ ὁ γέρων πιέειν μενεαίνων,
τοσσάχ᾽ ὕδωρ ἀπολέσκετ᾽ ἀναβροχέν, ἀμφὶ δὲ ποσσὶ
γαῖα μέλαινα φάνεσκε, καταζήνασκε δὲ δαίμων.
δένδρεα δ᾽ ὑψιπέτηλα κατὰ κρῆθεν χέε καρπόν,
ὄγχναι καὶ ῥοιαὶ καὶ μηλέαι ἀγλαόκαρποι
συκέαι τε γλυκεραὶ καὶ ἐλαῖαι τηλεθόωσαι:
τῶν ὁπότ᾽ ἰθύσει᾽ ὁ γέρων ἐπὶ χερσὶ μάσασθαι,
τὰς δ᾽ ἄνεμος ῥίπτασκε ποτὶ νέφεα σκιόεντα.

Aye, and I saw Tantalus in violent torment, standing in a pool, and the water came nigh unto his chin. He seemed as one athirst, but could not take and drink; for as often as that old man stooped down, eager to drink, so often would the water be swallowed up and vanish away, and at his feet the black earth would appear, for some god made all dry. And trees, high and leafy, let stream their fruits above his head, pears, and pomegranates, and apple trees with their bright fruit, and sweet figs, and luxuriant olives. But as often as that old man would reach out toward these, to clutch them with his hands, the wind would toss them to the shadowy clouds.

For the alternative, Pindar’s Olympian 1.54-58 is the fullest surviving account:

εἰ δὲ δή τιν᾿ ἄνδρα θνατὸν Ὀλύμπου σκοποί
ἐτίμασαν, ἦν Τάνταλος οὗτος· ἀλ-λὰ γὰρ καταπέψαι
μέγαν ὄλβον οὐκ ἐδυνάσθη, κόρῳ δ᾿ ἕλεν
ἄταν ὑπέροπλον, ἅν τοι πατὴρ ὕπερ
κρέμασε καρτερὸν αὐτῷ λίθον,τὸν αἰεὶ μενοινῶν κεφαλᾶς βαλεῖν
εὐφροσύνας ἀλᾶται.

If in fact the wardens of Olympus honored any mortal
man, Tantalus was that one. He, however, could not digest
his great good fortune, and because of his greed he won
an overwhelming punishment in the form of a massive rock which the Father suspended above him;
in his constant eagerness to cast it away from his head
he is banished from joy.

A scholiast on these lines points to images in Alcaeus and Alcman. Alcman’s is curious for hinting at a blend of the two traditions – the rock as what blocks his pleasure rather than the spontaneous withdrawal of the goods. That reading of asmenoisin / agreeable things is very unclear, however.

καὶ Ἀλκαῖος δὲ καὶ Ἀλκμὰν λίθον φασὶν ἐπαιωρεῖσθαι τῷ Ταντάλῳ· <ὁ μὲν Ἀλκαῖος·>
κεῖται πὲρ κεφάλας μέγας, ὦ Αἰσιμίδα, λίθος.
ὁ δὲ Ἀλκμὰν οὕτως
†ἀνὴρ δ᾿ ἐν ἀσμένοισιν ἀλιτηρὸς ἧστ᾿ ἐπὶθάκας κατὰ πέτρας ὁρέων μὲν οὐδὲν δοκέων δέ†

Alcaeus and Alcman say that a stone hangs over Tantalus;

Alcaeus (fr 365):
“a great stone, Aesimidas, lies over your (my? his?) head”

and Alcman (fr 79)
“a sinner, he sat among agreeable things on a seat under a rock, seeing nothing, but supposing that he did.”

There’s also a fragment of Archilochus 91 referencing the same tradition (my pasting didn’t like the conjectural indicators under a few letters)

μηδ᾿ ὁ Τα]τάου θος τῆσδ᾿ ὑπὲρ νήσου κρεμάσθω

let the stone of Tantalus not hang over this island

That is beyond my sights

Another healthy-minded fragment of Archilochus, recorded by Plutarch in his On Tranquility of Mind (10.470b-c):

Accordingly, since they always lack what is beyond them, they are never grateful for what befits their station.

“The possessions of Gyges1 rich in gold are of no concern to me, not yet have I been seized with jealousy of him, I do not envy the deeds of the gods, and I have no love of tyranny. That is beyond my sights.”


εἶθ᾿ οὕτως ἀεὶ τῶν ὑπὲρ ἑαυτοὺς ἐνδεεῖς ὄντες οὐδέποτε τοῖς καθ᾿ ἑαυτοὺς χάριν ἔχουσιν.

οὔ μοι τὰ Γύγεω τοῦ πολυχρύσου μέλει,
οὐδ᾿ εἷλέ πώ με ζῆλος, οὐδ᾿ ἀγαίομαι
θεῶν ἔργα, μεγάλης δ᾿ οὐκ ἐρέω τυραννίδος·
ἀπόπροθεν γάρ ἐστιν ὀφθαλμῶν ἐμῶν.

It may seem a pedantic distinction but the Greek of ‘beyond my sights’ feels somehow stronger to me – it is more like ‘far from my eyes.’

What do I care about that shield?

A fragment of Archilochus, recorded by Plutarch in Ancient Customs of the Spartans (34.239b):

When the poet Archilochus arrived in Sparta, they drove him out at once, because they learned that in his poetry he had said that it was better to throw away one’s arms than to be killed:

Some Saian exults in my shield which I left—a faultless weapon—beside a bush against my will. But I saved myself. What do I care about that shield? To hell with it! I’ll get one that’s just as good another time.


Ἀρχίλοχον τὸν ποιητὴν ἐν Λακεδαίμονι γενόμενον αὐτῆς ὥρας ἐδίωξαν, διότι ἐπέγνωσαν αὐτὸν πεποιηκότα ὡς κρεῖττόν ἐστιν ἀποβαλεῖν τὰ ὅπλα ἢ ἀποθανεῖν·

ἀσπίδι μὲν Σαΐων τις ἀγάλλεται, ἣν παρὰ θάμνῳ,
ἔντος ἀμώμητον, κάλλιπον οὐκ ἐθέλων·
αὐτὸν δ᾿ ἐξεσάωσα. τί μοι μέλει ἀσπὶς ἐκείνη;
ἐρρέτω· ἐξαῦτις κτήσομαι οὐ κακίω.