Ravani ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 ISSN 2159-3159 Article copyright held by the author(s) and made available under the Creative Commons Attribution License CC-BY https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Outlining the Iliad in the Komnenian Age: Between Trojan Matter and Achilles’ Wrath Alberto Ravani Et breviter Troiae supremum audire laborem Vergil Aeneid 2.11 OWADAYS, at least in Europe, many people have a rough idea of what the Trojan War is. There are TV series, a major blockbuster starring famous Hollywood stars, and thousands of general books on the topic.1 Many people may still have memories of children’s books with abridged Greek myths and an illustration of a wooden horse towering over a city on fire—at least I do. The readers of those books and the watchers of those series perhaps know that the poem on the Trojan War is called the “Iliad,” and that its author was Homer—whether he was real or legendary is not relevant here. But how many of them know that both the story of the wooden horse and the sack of the city are not in the Iliad? Counterintuitively, the main poem on the Trojan War leaves out its most iconic part, the spectacular siege, and many readers across the centuries have probably been baffled by this absence. This was the case during the so-called Byzantine millennium, and especially during the twelfth century, a period that stands out for a flourishing of Homeric scholarship described as a 1 The latest television series is probably Troy, Fall of a City made by the BBC in 2018; the blockbuster was Troy (2004) with Brad Pitt, Orlando Bloom, and Diane Kruger. For what concerns the books the catalogue could be endless, I will just name Madeline Miller’s bestseller The Song of Achilles (2011) and The Women of Troy by Pat Barker (2021). N 128 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 “Homeric revival.”2 Ingela Nilsson has distinguished between the Troy matter “the legendary subject matter”—defined by Eu- stathios of Thessalonike as τὰ Τρωϊκά—and the “Homeric epics” which is exclusively the matter of the two poems written by Homer. In Byzantine literature, she concluded, “the borders between the two are not clear-cut: poetic license allowed authors to express non-Homeric Troy matter in a Homeric style, or Homeric legends in vernacular verse, or to mix material taken from different sources.”3 This paper addresses these borders. In particular, it studies how, during the twelfth-century Homeric revival, Byzantine writers and scholars addressed the difference between the Homeric Iliad and the entire Trojan matter. Did they see any borders between the two? After a short introduction on the Classical and early Byzantine debate on the matter, the paper considers two chroniclers, George Kedrenos and Constantine Manasses, and then moves to other writers: John Tzetzes, Isaac Porphyrogennetos, and Eustathios of Thessalonike. The paper demonstrates that their critical outlooks on the Homeric Iliad did not distinguish between epic and historiography—as is done nowadays—but instead were shaped by the theoretical frame- work of late antique rhetorical handbooks which went so far as to influence their definition of an “Iliad.” 2 A. Kaldellis, Hellenism in Byzantium (Cambridge 2007) 241–250. Of the treatments of the reception of Homer in Byzantium, a brief list is R. Browning, “Homer in Byzantion,” Viator 8 (1975) 15–33 (repr. Studies in Byzantine History, Literature and Education [London 1977]), and “The Byzantines and Homer,” in R. Lamberton et al. (eds.), Homer’s Ancient Readers (Princeton 1992) 134–148; C. Cupane, “Die Homer-Rezeption in Byzanz,” in J. Latacz (ed.), Homer: der Mythos von Troia in Dichtung und Kunst (Munich 2008) 251–258; M. Mavroudi, “Homer in Greek from the End of Antiquity 1: The Byzantine Reception of Homer and His Export to Other Cultures,” in C. O. Pacheet al. (eds.), The Cambridge Guide to Homer (Cambridge 2020) 444–472. 3 I. Nilsson, “From Homer to Hermoniakos: Some Considerations of Troy Matter in Byzantine Literature,” Troianalexandrina 4 (2004) 9–34, at 11–12. ALBERTO RAVANI 129 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 I The classical debate One of the most famous, and authoritative, explanations of the reasons why Homer does not cover the entire Trojan War in the Iliad is given by Aristotle in his Poetics (1451a16–7, 24–29; 1459a31–b 2): Μῦθος δ’ ἐστὶν εἷς οὐχ ὥσπερ τινὲς οἴονται ἐὰν περὶ ἕνα ᾖ … Ὀδύσσειαν γὰρ ποιῶν οὐκ ἐποίησεν ἅπαντα ὅσα αὐτῷ συνέβη, οἷον πληγῆναι µὲν ἐν τῷ Παρνασσῷ, µανῆναι δὲ προσποιή- σασθαι ἐν τῷ ἀγερµῷ, ὧν οὐδὲν θατέρου γενοµένου ἀναγκαῖον ἦν ἢ εἰκὸς θάτερον γενέσθαι, ἀλλὰ περὶ µίαν πρᾶξιν οἵαν λέγοµεν τὴν Ὀδύσσειαν συνέστησεν, ὁµοίως δὲ καὶ τὴν Ἰλιάδα … τῷ µηδὲ τὸν πόλεµον καίπερ ἔχοντα ἀρχὴν καὶ τέλος ἐπιχειρῆ- σαι ποιεῖν ὅλον· λίαν γὰρ ἂν µέγας καὶ οὐκ εὐσύνοπτος ἔµελλεν ἔσεσθαι ὁ µῦθος, ἢ τῷ µεγέθει µετριάζοντα καταπεπλεγµένον τῇ ποικιλίᾳ. νῦν δ᾿ ἓν µέρος ἀπολαβὼν ἐπεισοδίοις κέχρηται αὐτῶν πολλοῖς, οἷον νεῶν καταλόγῳ καὶ ἄλλοις ἐπεισοδίοις οἷς διαλαµβάνει τὴν ποίησιν. οἱ δ᾿ ἄλλοι περὶ ἕνα ποιοῦσι καὶ περὶ ἕνα χρόνον καὶ µίαν πρᾶξιν πολυµερῆ, οἷον ὁ τὰ Κύπρια ποιήσας καὶ τὴν µικρὰν Ἰλιάδα. A plot is not unified, as some think, if built around an individual … Though composing an Odyssey, he [scil. Homer] did not include every feature of the hero’s life (e.g. his wounding on Parnassus, or his feigned madness in the call to arms), where events lacked necessary or probable connections; but he structured the Odyssey round a unitary action of the kind I mean, and likewise with the Iliad … though the war had beginning and end, he did not try to treat its entirety, for the plot was bound to be too large and in- coherent, or else, if kept within moderate scope, too complex in its variety. Instead, he has selected one section, but has used many others as episodes, such as the catalogue of ships and other episodes by which he diversifies the composition. But the others build their works round a single figure or single period, hence an action of many parts, as with the author of the Cypria and the Little Iliad.4 4 Text and transl. Stephen Halliwell, Aristotle Poetics, Longinus On the Sublime, Demetrius on Style (Cambridge [Mass.] 1995) 56–59, 116–117. 130 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Aristotle’s answer is clear: to write an epic poem Homer focused the entire plot (µῦθος) on a single action (περὶ µίαν πρᾶξιν), for writing the entire war would have been unsustainable, as the examples of the Cypria and Little Iliad demonstrate. Writing events in their entirety and including their full development belongs to historiography; epic is a separate genre. Aristotle’s explanation still informs our understanding of classical genres and allows us to see Homer as a distinct author of epic and not as a deficient historian. That said, the Poetics was not known or read during the Byzantine period, and so did not have any in- fluence on the twelfth-century debate on Homer.5 What was known and widely read in Byzantium were the scholia to the first book of the Iliad. In the scholia vetera, right at the beginning of Book 1, two classes of scholia (D-scholia and exegetica) discuss why Homer decided to focus solely on Achilles’ wrath.6 There are different entries and formulations, but they can be summarised as two main lines of thought: first, Homer chose the events surrounding Achilles’ wrath because they are the most interesting moment of the entire war. It is the peak of the action, which is what an author needs to gain the listeners’ attention. Second, that section of the war is the best for praising the virtues of Greek heroes.7 This intention to praise heroes even answers the (legitimate) question “why is the poem called Iliad and not Achilleid?” given that Achilles is at the core of the action.8 The answer is that the poem wants to showcase the 5 On this point see L. Taràn and D. Gutas, Aristotle Poetics. Editio Maior (Leiden 2012) 37. 6 H. Erbse, Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem I (Berlin 1969); Erbse’s edition of the D-scholia is incomplete, see also H. van Thiel, Scholia D in Iliadem: Proecdosis Aucta et Correctior (Cologne 2014). For an explanation of the different classes of scholia to the Iliad see F. Montana, in S. Boodts et al. (eds.), Sicut dicit Editing Ancient and Medieval Commentaries on Authoritative Texts (Turnhout 2019) 97–125. 7 See Erbse, Scholia I 3–4. 8 The question appears only in class bT of the scholia exegetica: Erbse, Scholia I 4.30–38. ALBERTO RAVANI 131 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 virtues of many heroes, not just of Achilles, and this is why it is called Iliad. Byzantine Homeric scholarship relied mainly on scholia and epimerisms, probably in manuscripts which were even richer than the ones that have survived. A still open question about the transmission of Homeric scholarship is whether certain treatises or texts were still read in their ‘original’ form or already abridged and fragmented. A practical example could be Porphyry’s Homeric Questions. In this case, Marchinus van der Valk believes that Eustathios of Thessalonike had access to the entire work (ipsum Hypomnema) while writing his Parekbolai.9 New Trojan narratives A watershed in the Byzantine understanding of the Trojan matter is the account of the war in Malalas’ Chronicle (sixth century) which occupies the entire fifth book. The account starts with Hecuba’s pregnancy with Paris, when she received a forecast of doom about the child she was bearing (5.2), and ends with the story of Agamemnon’s wretched homecoming and the vicissitudes of his son Orestes (5.30–37); most notably, Malalas’ main source is not Homer but the (alleged) eyewitness account of Dictys of Crete, which dates to the Roman period.10 There are many differences between Dictys’ account and the Homeric one; the most evident is probably the complete absence of gods, goddesses, and their interventions. Dictys offers a narrative which reads as more reliable, “more historical” than Homer. Such an account was particularly suitable for a Christian audi- ence which would hardly have stomached accounts of how pagan deities intervened and changed the course of the battle. As Adam Goldwyn has convincingly shown,11 Malalas’ version 9 Eustathii Archiepiscopi Thessalonicensis commentarii ad Homeri Iliadem I (Leiden 1971) LXIV. On the Parekbolai see below. 10 On Dictys of Crete and his influence see P. Gainsford, “Diktys of Crete,” CCJ 67 (2012) 58–87, at 58. 11 A. J. Goldwyn, “John Malalas and the Origins of Allegorical and 132 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 of the Trojan War was instrumental in informing Byzantine nar- ratives on the subject. New theoretical guides A key element for the understanding of Byzantine texts is the prominent role of rhetoric in Byzantine education. Rhetoric was taught in secondary stage of education by the grammatikos who used handbooks from the first centuries of the Roman Empire or later commentaries thereon;12 the most popular handbooks were those of Hermogenes (second/third century) such as On Staseis and On Ideas and the progymnasmata of Aphthonius (second half of the fourth century).13 Writing composition was based on specific exercises, progymnasmata; within these, Aphthonius dis- tinguished between fable (µῦθος) and narrative (διήγηµα)—while fables are imaginary like those of Aesop, narratives, whether true or fictional, are about reality (Aphth. p.113.1):14 Διήγηµά ἐστιν ἔκθεσις πράγµατος γεγονότος ἢ ὡς γεγονότος. Διενήνοχε δὲ διήγηµα διηγήσεως ὡς ποιήσεως ποίηµα· ποίησις µὲν γὰρ πᾶσα ἡ Ἰλιάς, ποίηµα δὲ ἡ τῶν Ἀχιλλέως ὅπλων κατα- σκευή. Narrative (diêgêma) is an exposition of an action that has happened or as though it had happened. Narrative differs from narration (diêgêsis) as a piece of poetry differs from a poem (poiêsis). The Iliad as a whole is a poiêsis, the making of the arms of Achilles a poiêma.15 Novelistic Tradition of the Trojan War in Byzantium,” Troianalexandrina 15 (2015) 23–49, at 24–25. According to Gainsford’s analysis, all the twelfth- century authors considered in this paper had no access to the text of Dictys: CCJ 67 (2012) 70–74. 12 The book of Progymnasmata attributed to Hermogenes is now considered to be spurious. For an overview of Byzantine education see e.g. A. Marko- poulos, “Education,” in E. Jeffreys et al., The Oxford Handbook of Byzantine Studies (Oxford 2008) 785–795, esp. 788–790 on the curriculum. 13 On the general dependence of Byzantine texts on Aphthonius see M. D. Lauxtermann, Byzantine Poetry from Pisides to Geometres II (Vienna 2019) 20. 14 M. Patillon, Corpus Rhetoricum I (Paris 2008). 15 Transl. G. A. Kennedy, Progymnasmata. Greek Textbooks of Prose Composition and Rhetoric (Atlanta 2003) 96. ALBERTO RAVANI 133 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Within this framework, the whole Chronicle of Malalas is a narra- tion (διήγησις), while the story of the Trojan War is a narrative (διήγηµα). Aphthonius listed six features—or attributes—that each narrative, and each narration, must have (p.114.3–4): Παρέπεται δὲ τῷ διηγήµατι ἕξ· τὸ πρᾶξαν πρόσωπον, τὸ πραχθὲν πρᾶγµα, χρόνος καθ’ ὅ, τόπος ἐν ᾧ, τρόπος ὅπως, αἰτία δι’ ἥν. Ἀρεταὶ δὲ διηγήµατος τέσσαρες· σαφήνεια, συντοµία, πιθανότης καὶ ὁ τῶν ὀνοµάτων ἑλληνισµός. There are six attributes of narrative: the person who acted, the thing done, the time at which, the place in which, the manner how, and the cause for which it was done. The virtues of a nar- rative are four: clarity, concision, credibility, and a proper use of Greek.16 This list was the one that all Byzantines learned in school, and it outlines the basic features that a well-written text must have. II Twelfth-century chroniclers After Malalas’ Chronicle, which devoted ample space to the story of the Trojan War, most later chronicles ignored these events. A reason might be that the Trojan War, part of Greek history before Alexander the Great, did not fit into the narrative of the ‘succession of empires’,17 derived from the prophecy in the Book of Daniel (7) about the four empires to rule the world, the last interpreted as Rome. The Trojan War reappeared in the chronicles only in the twelfth century, with renewed interest stemming from the revival of Homer and the classics. The Trojan matter regained its importance for Byzantine world history. Chronicles offer an ideal starting point to look at the Trojan matter in the twelfth century, as they offered the frame- work that other scholars eventually followed. 16 Transl. Kennedy 96–97, modified. 17 See C. Mango, “Discontinuity with the Classical Past in Byantium,” in M. E. Mullett et al. (eds.), Byzantium and the Classical Tradition (Birmingham 1981) 53–54, and E. M. Jeffreys, “The Attitudes of Byzantine Chroniclers towards Ancient History,” Byzantion 49 (1979) 199–238. 134 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 George Kedrenos The Chronicle of George Kedrenos dedicates considerable space to the Trojan War. It probably was composed towards the end of his life, in the first quarter of the twelfth century.18 Kedrenos follows Malalas’ model: the section on the Trojan War starts with Paris’ birth (140.10–13) and ends with the en- slavement of the surviving Trojans and the return of Helen with Menelaos (140.332–344); there follow a short summary of the return-journeys of the Greek heroes (141).19 Not surprisingly, Malalas is Kedrenos’ main source for this part together with the still-unedited chronicle of Ps.-Symeon, which also offers a non- Homeric version of the war, slightly different from the one by Malalas.20 Kedrenos’ heavy dependence on his sources is prob- ably the main reason why this Chronicle is little studied and often disparaged, generally considered a mere patchwork of older chronicles, especially John Skylitzes’ Synopsis historiarum (second half of the eleventh century). Constantine Manasses A more interesting chronicle is that of Constantine Manasses, written in the decade 1143–1153.21 Manasses’ account of the 18 See W. Treadgold, The Middle Byzantine Historians (New York 2013) 340– 341. 19 L. Tartaglia, Georgii Cedreni Historiarum Compendium I (Rome 2016) 245– 268. For the content of the section and an analysis of its sources see C. Jouanno, “Pratique de l’emprunt dans les chroniques universelles byzantines: l’exemple de la matière troyenne,” Kentron 30 (2014) 94–99. 20 On Malalas as a source for Byzantine historiography see A. Goldwyn, “John Malalas and the Origins of the Allegorical and Novelistic Traditions of the Trojan War in Byzantium,” Troianalexandrina 15 (2025) 23–49. Jouanno does not mention the chronicle of Ps.-Symeon among the sources, but she does postulate a second source with suggestions: Kentron 30 (2014) 97–99. For the presence of Ps.-Symeon as a source see Tartaglia, Cedreni Compendium I 20–21, and 240–268 in the apparatus of the sources of chapter 140. 21 The two termini are the ascent of Manuel I to the throne in 1143 and the death of Manasses’ patron Eirene the Sevastokratorissa in 1153: see A. Paul and A. Rhoby, Konstantinos Manasses. Verschronik (Stuttgart 2019) 7–9. ALBERTO RAVANI 135 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Trojan War occupies a small portion of his Synopsis Chronikē, some 360 lines in the total 6620.22 Manasses covered exactly the same time span and events as the chroniclers already mentioned; in addition, like the chroniclers, his account of the war starts with Hecuba’s pregnancy and her ominous dream about the destruc- tion of Troy (1119–1126) and ends with a brief mention of the homecoming journeys. Unlike the others, Manasses draws from multiple classical sources, including Homer, giving to the story an almost ‘mythological’ flare.23 An example is at 1277–1280 where the events of Achilles’ wrath and its causes are drawn from Philostratus’ Heroicus:24 Achilles is angry not because Agamem- non offended his honor and took Briseis, but because his beloved friend Palamedes was framed by Odysseus and executed by Aga- memnon. To this story and his source, Manasses adds a dra- matic touch: two invocations, one to envy (βασκανία 1278) and one to jealousy (φθόνος 1325), both treated almost as agents of evil plotting against the harmony of the Greek army. Despite his new sources and emphatic interventions, Manasses never in- cludes pagan gods and goddesses, which did not appear in any chronicle, while in Homer they serve as essential engines of the narrative. What is most interesting in Manasses’ account is, at its con- clusion, a comment on Homer and his style (1111–1117): ταύτην ἐγὼ βουλόµενος τὴν µάχην ἱστορῆσαι καθὼς τοῖς ἱστορήσασι γράφεται περὶ ταύτης, καὶ µέλλων λέγειν, οὐ καθὼς Ὅµηρος ἀναγράφει, συγγνώµην ἐξαιτήσοµαι παρὰ τῶν εὐγνωµόνων· Ὅµηρος γὰρ ὁ µελιχρὸς τὴν γλῶτταν καὶ θελξίνους 22 O. Lampsidis, Constantini Manassis Breviarium Chronicum (Athens 1996); the Trojan War is at 1108–1470. 23 See M. Augerinou-Tziōga, Hē synopsis chronikē tou Kōnstantinou Manassē: symvolē stēn hyphologikē meletē mias emmetrēs chronographias (Thessalonike 2013) 114–115. 24 Philostr. Her. 33.31–36. The same source is also used by Tzetzes, see n.43 below. 136 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 µεθόδοις χρώµενος σοφαῖς οἰκονοµεῖ τοὺς λόγους, ἐνιαχοῦ δὲ τὰ πολλὰ στρέφει καὶ µετατρέπει· Wishing to narrate this battle as the historians have written about it, and not intending to speak as Homer described it, I will ask indulgence of my reasonable readers: Homer, honey-sweet of speech and charming, arranges his stories using skilful methods. Sometimes, however, he overturns and alters many things. Homer occasionally altered the narrative matter and overturned it, while Manasses strove to write as a historian. Line 1117, Manasses’ comment on Homer’s convoluted arrangement of the narrative, is merely a polite understatement. The words ἐνιαχοῦ (“sometimes”) and πολλά (“many things”) have clashing mean- ings, and στρέφει and µετατρέπει reinforce the judgment on Homer’s twisted narrative and are only apparently smoothed by the initial “sometimes.”25 The comment is interesting because it assesses Homer as a “writer of the battle” along with all the other historians on whom Manasses relied; Homer did not write history but an epic poem which covered just a small portion of the entire war. Instead, what Manasses praises are the qualities of the Homeric verse: charming and as sweet as honey. Manasses’ judgment on Homer is rooted in the prescriptions of Aphthonius’ Progymnasmata, which are the same rules he fol- lowed in his own work. The account of the Trojan War is a “narrative” (διήγηµα) within the larger narration (διήγησις) of the Synopsis Chronikē; it tells the causes, the actions, the actors, and the time in world history. That the Synopsis is in verse while the other chronicles are in prose does not matter in regard to the compositional rules of progymnasmata; in Byzantine literature most kinds of text could be written either in prose or in verse 25 For an alternative comment on these lines—more from the point of view of Aristotle’s Poetics—see G. Spatafora, “Antehomerica e Posthomerica nella letteratura bizantina,” MEG 6 (2006) 207–208. ALBERTO RAVANI 137 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 irrespective of their genre.26 From the gracious comment on the qualities of Homeric verse, it is likely that Manasses appreciated reading Homer and his poems; however, when he came to judge his qualities as an historian, he found Homer lacking in con- ciseness and chronological clarity. John Tzetzes To turn from the chroniclers to the scholars, in the twelfth century John Tzetzes is probably the one who dedicated most works—but not most pages—to the Trojan matter.27 They are three: in chronological order, the poem Little-and-Big Iliad (Car- mina Iliaca),28 the Exegesis of the Iliad in prose,29 and the Homeric Allegories, a poem of nearly ten thousand political verses initially written for empress Bertha-Eirene, the first wife of Manuel I (1143–1180). The title Little-and-Big Iliad (ἡ Μικροµεγάλη Ἰλιάς) refers both to its short (µικρός) length of 1696 hexameters—barely two books of Homer’s Iliad—and to the large (µεγάλη) scope of the events covered.30 In fact, Little-and-Big Iliad encompasses the entire story 26 On this point see M. D. Lauxtermann, “Texts and Contexts,” in W. Hörandner et al. (eds.), A Companion to Byzantine Poetry (Leiden 2019) 21; E. Jeffreys, “Why Produce Verse in Twelfth-Century Constantinople?” in P. Odorico et al., “Doux remède…” Poésie et poétique à Byzance (Paris 2009) 219– 228. For an overview of poetry and prose in the twelfth century see N. Zagklas, “Experimenting with Prose and Verse in Twelfth-Century Byzantium. A Preliminary Study,” DOP 71 (2017) 229–231. 27 For a recent overview of Tzetzes’ life and works see E. E. Prodi, Τζετζικαὶ ἔρευναι (Bologna 2022) ix–xxv. 28 P. A. M. Leone, Ioannis Tzetzae Carmina Iliaca (Catania 1995); also known as the Antehomerica, Homerica and Posthomerica. On the question of the author’s title ἡ Μικροµεγάλη Ἰλιάς see P. L. M. Leone, “I ‘Carmina Iliaca’ di Gio- vanni Tzetzes,” QCSAM 6/12 (1984) 377–405. 29 M. Papathomopoulos, Ἐξήγησις Ἰωάννου γραμματικοῦ τοῦ Τζέτζου εἰς τὴν Ὁμήρου Ἰλιάδα (Athens 2007). 30 For this reading of the title see M. Cardin, “Teaching Homer through (annotated) Poetry,” in R. C. Simms (ed.), Prequels, Sequels and Retellings of Clas- 138 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 of the war, as stated in the proem (1.1–6, 17–19): Ἀργαλέου πολέµοιο µέγαν πόνον Ἰλιακοῖο ἔννεπε, Καλλιόπεια, ὑφ’ ἡµετέρῃσιν ἀοιδαῖς, ἀρχῆθε δ’ ἐπάειδε καὶ ἐς τέλος ἐξερέεινε, ἐξ ὅτεο Πρίαµος λοιγὸν Τρώεσσι φυτεύει Δύσπαριν οὐλόµενον, ἀρχὴν πολέµοιο κακοῖο, τὸν νόος οὐκ ἐρέεινεν Ὁµήρου κυδαλίµοιο … εἰπὲ δὲ καὶ πτολίπορθον Ἐπειοῦ δούριον ἵππον, εἰσόκεν ἠΐστωσε πελώρια τείχεα Τροίης. Ταῦτά µοι εὐπατέρεια, Διὸς τέκος, ἔννεπε Μοῦσα. The great toil of the arduous Iliadic war tell, Calliope, through our songs, from the beginning sing and search through to the end, from when Priam nurtured havoc for the Trojans, wretched ill-Paris, cause of this evil war, whom the mind of glorious Homer did not tell … and sing also the wooden horse of Epeios, destroyer of cities, until it destroyed the mighty walls of Troy. These things, daughter of Zeus noble father, sing me, Muse. Tzetzes asked the muse to tell (ἔννεπε) the great labour of the Trojan War from beginning to end, listing the main episodes from Paris’ birth, the ruin of the Trojans, to the wooden horse. This is exactly what is then delivered. Such a large subject- matter openly contrasts with Aristotle’s distinction according to which an epic poem cannot encompass all the events of a war. The choice of this timespan and also his compositional principles are clearly described in Tzetze’s first scholion to his Little-and-Βig Iliad, which reads as a programmatic statement (p.101):31 sical Epic (Leiden 2018) 90–114, at 94, and T. Braccini, “Erudita invenzione: riflessioni sulla piccola grande Iliade di Giovanni Tzetze,” Incontri triestini di filologia classica 9 (2009–2011) 153–173, at 154. 31 The scholia were conceived as scholastic explanation of the poem. Given that they were written by the same author who wrote the poem, they still ALBERTO RAVANI 139 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Ὁ παρὼν ποιητής, φιλοσύντοµος ὢν καὶ τῆς ὠφελείας τῶν νέων φροντίζων, συνοπτικῶς τὴν πᾶσαν Ἰλιάδα ἐν τῇ παρούσῃ βίβλῳ ἐξέθετο. The present poet, since he loves brevity and is concerned for the benefit to young men, laid down, in a glance, the entire Iliad in the present book. Almost every word of this statement has a meaning rooted in late antique rhetoric.32 It begins with the nominal compound “the present poet” which openly contrasts with Homer’s usual ap- pellative “the poet” (ὁ ποιητής) as he was the poet par excellence.33 Then, Tzetzes’ love for concision (φιλοσύντοµος) recalls one of Aphthonius’ four virtues of a narrative: clarity, concision (συν- τοµία), credibility, and proper use of Greek (see 133 above). Another key word is “synoptically” συνοπτικῶς (“in a glance”); this term is more rooted in the eleventh- and twelfth-century Byzantine tradition of didactic works, especially poems. It valued a quick overview of the subject—recall Manasses’ chronicle, en- titled Synopsis Chronikē.34 Finally, Tzetzes describes his broad chronicle-like time span as the entire Iliad (τὴν πᾶσαν Ἰλιάδα),35 which clearly implies that Homer’s Iliad is not “entire,” and therefore incomplete. provide an effective hermeneutical tool to the modern reader; see Cardin, in Classical Epic 105–108, and U. Mondini, “Composing the Μικροµεγάλη Ἰλιάς. Macro- and microstructure of a Byzantine Homeric Poem,” ByzZeit 114 (2021) 325–354, at 330–331. 32 For a detailed commentary on this passage (scholion and related lines) see Mondini, in Τζετζικαὶ ἔρευναι 238–254. 33 On Tzetzes comparing himself to Homer see F. Conca, “L’esegesi di Tzetzes ai Carmina Iliaca fra tradizione e innovazione,” Koinonia 42 (2018) 75– 100, at 75. 34 Specifically on this passage see Mondini, in Τζετζικαὶ ἔρευναι 242–247, and, more generally, F. Bernard, Writing and Reading Byzantine Secular Poetry, 1025–1081 (Oxford 2014) 238–240. 35 On πᾶσα Ἰλιάς see Mondini, ByzZeit 114 (2021) 351–353, and A. Ravani, “‘And Wishes Also a Paraphrase of Homer’s Verse’: Structure and Com- position of the Prolegomena to the Allegories of the Iliad,” in Τζετζικαὶ ἔρευναι 261–289, esp. 276–284. 140 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 The Little-and-Βig Iliad has two parallel structures: an external macrostructure which encapsulates the narration, and an in- ternal one which connects the individual episodes; in particular, as Mondini has shown, the external macrostructure is demon- strably based on Hermogenes’ prescriptions.36 Hermogenes is the other author who, together with Aphthonius, formed the basis of the late antique rhetorical tradition. The evidence for this structure mostly comes from Tzetzes’ scholia, which use the same vocabulary of Hermogenes’ Progymnasmata.37 So e.g. the scholion to line 20—the first after the passage quoted above— which, at the end, also reproduces almost word-for-word Aphthonius’ four virtues: ἤτοι µὲν Τροίη] ἐντεῦθεν ἄρχεται ἡ διήγησις ῥητορικωτάτη µετὰ µικρᾶς τῆς προδιηγήσεως. Τὸ γὰρ ἀπ’ αὐτῆς τῆς διηγήσεως ἄρχεσθαι ἀρητόρευτόν τε καὶ ἄτεχνον, τὸ δὲ πόρρωθεν ἄρχεσθαι καὶ µὴ συντόµως εἰσβάλλειν εἰς τὴν ὑπόθεσιν κακία ἐστὶ διηγή- σεως· ἀσαφήνειαν γὰρ ἐµποιεῖ. ἀρεταὶ γὰρ διηγήσεως τέσσαρες· σαφήνεια, συντοµία, πιθανότης καὶ ὁ τῶν ὀνοµάτων ἑλληνισµός. In fact, Troy] From here the rhetorical narrative starts with a short preliminary account. To start directly with the story shows poor rhetoric and low skill, but also starting much later without getting concisely to the point is an error of narration: it makes it unclear. The qualities of narration are four: clarity, concision, credibility, and a proper use of Greek. The “preliminary account” (προδιήγησις) mentioned is the pas- sage (quoted above) in which Tzetzes briefly states the subject- matter of the poem. This scholion shows, beyond how much Tzetzes relied on the teaching of the Progymnasmata, also what he found lacking in the Homeric Iliad. In this regard, the definition that Tzetzes gives of an “Iliad” is particularly telling. This is found in his second Homeric work, the Exegesis of the Iliad, a prose commentary written after the Little-and-Big Iliad, divided into two 36 Mondini, ByzZeit 114 (2021) 331–337 (macrostructure), 340–350 (in- ternal microstructure). 37 For the similarities between Tzetzes’ scholia and Hermogenes’ works see e.g. Mondini, ByzZeit 114 (2021) 332 n.26, 334 n.33. ALBERTO RAVANI 141 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 parts: an introductory essay and then a running commentary on Book 1. At the conclusion of the first part, Tzetzes defines the meaning of “Iliad” (Ex.Il. 67.12–20): Ἰλιὰς ἡ παροῦσα ποίησις ἐπιγέγραπται, ὡς τὰς τῶν Ἰλιέων, ἤτοι τῶν Τρώων, συµφορὰς περιέχουσα … Ὁµήρου δὲ πρὸς ἀντι- διαστολὴν τῶν µικρῶν Ἰλιάδων· καὶ γὰρ Λέσχης ὁ Πυρραῖος, Κιναίθων τέ τις Λακεδαιµόνιος καὶ ὁ Ἐρυθραῖος Διόδωρος, Τριφιόδωρός τε καὶ Κόϊντος ὁ Σµυρναῖος καὶ ἕτεροι Ἰλιάδας συγγεγραφήκεσαν. The present poem is called Iliad because it contains the mis- fortunes of the Ilians, i.e. the Trojans … Homer’s Iliad has to be distinguished from the small Iliads: for Lesches of Pyrrha, the Spartan Cinaethon, Diodorus the Erythrean, Tryphiodorus, and Quintus Smyrnaeus and others too have written Iliads. For Tzetzes, “Iliad” is not only Homer’s poem, but every poem that covers the events of the Trojans; Homer’s Iliad is the most famous and the greatest, but also just one among smaller ones. In fact, Achilles’ wrath, the object of the Homeric poem, is only a small and carefully selected section of “the misfortunes of the Ilians.” The Exegesis is particularly useful since, in its didactic prose, it explains Tzetzes’ understanding of Homer. In the introductory essay, when Tzetzes summarises the events before the beginning of the Homeric Iliad, he starts from Hecuba’s dream, but gives two versions of the story: one is more mythical and more “Homeric” (58.2–60.17);38 the other version is that of the chron- icles that draws on the works of Dictys and (like Manasses) Philostratus. Even if Tzetzes considers the second version, from the chroniclers, to be the more reliable (61.1–67.11), he still shows a greater interest in Homer and other mythological ac- counts than all the other authors analysed so far. 38 The sources of this passage seem to be various. Their common denom- inator is that Tzetzes does not trust them entirely; one of them for example (59.10–11) is the poet Colluthus. Interesting is Tzetzes’ approach to the Judgment of Paris, which has been discussed in E. Jeffreys, “The Judgement of Paris in Later Byzantine Literature,” Byzantion 48 (1978) 112–131. 142 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Another proof of this interest is that, at the end of the opening essay of the Exegesis, Tzetzes addresses the question of why Homer, despite Aphthonius’ precepts, decided to start with the final part of the war. Initially, he draws explanations from the scholia: first, he argues that perhaps the previous nine years did not have anything worth telling.39 But then, he wonders, why does the poem focus on the wrath? For this Tzetzes provides two reasons (σκόποι) and neither of them derives from the scholia. The first is moral (Ex.Il. 71.12–14): ἀποδεικνὺς ἡµῖν ὅσα ἡ Ἀχιλέως µῆνις εἰργάσατο, κελεύει µὴ µηνιᾶν µηδ’ ἀτιµᾶν τοὺς ἀρίστους. [Homer, who] shows us all the things that Achilles’ wrath has done, exhorts us not to be angry and not to dishonour excellent people. The second reason is to celebrate Achilles, exactly as Homer does with Odysseus in the Odyssey (72.2–3). But, if so, why is the poem not called the Achilleid? Tzetzes fills many lines to provide a suitable answer, which is then summarised in the concluding sentence of the prologue (73.12–14): ἴστω ὡς µειζόνως καὶ περιουσιαστικῶς κἀκ τούτου τὸν ἥρωα πάλιν τιµᾷ, προσάπτων αὐτῷ καὶ µόνῳ τὸ αἴτιον τῆς Ἰλιακῆς συµφορᾶς. And so, it is a way to honour the hero once again, in even a greater way: to him alone he ascribes the cause of Troy’s catastrophe. This explanation openly contrasts with the scholia vetera, for they say that the reason the poem is called Iliad and not Achilleis is precisely the opposite: Homer wanted to celebrate all the Greek heroes and not just Achilles.40 In Tzetzes’ view, the only way he could ‘justify’ Homer’s narrow selection of material was 39 Ex.Il. 71.2–4, 6–9: δι’ ἥντινα αἰτίαν ποτὲ ἀπὸ τῶν τελευταίων ὁ ποιητὴς γράφειν τῆς µάχης ἀπήρξατο … ὁ πρὸ τοῦ δεκαετοῦς δὲ χρόνος οὐκ ἀναγκαίας τὰς πράξεις ἐκέκτητο, “For what reason did the poet start writing the war from the last events? … the time before the tenth year did not have any important actions.” Cf. Erbse, Scholia I 4.19–26. 40 Erbse, Scholia I 4.32–36. ALBERTO RAVANI 143 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 by positing a clear focus: exalting Achilles and his military virtue. This idea becomes even clearer in the last of Tzetzes’ works on Homer, the Homeric Allegories, a long allegorical poem on both the Iliad and the Odyssey.41 The poem opens with a lengthy pro- legomena telling the whole backstory of the Homeric Iliad.42 Again, Tzetzes starts from Hecuba’s dream (prol. 176–183) and finishes with the two versions of Achilles’ wrath (1113–1147);43 again, Tzetzes is aware that even an allegorical paraphrase of the Iliad cannot fail to mention the causes of the event, as he did in his two previous works. This awareness implies the need to address Homer’s belated start. The Allegories lack the thorough explanations of the Exegesis, but—surprisingly—the reasons pro- vided differ from those presented in the Exegesis (1148–1153, 1157–1167): Ὁ δ’ Ὅµηρος δεινότατος ὑπάρχων λογογράφος τὰ µέχρι τούτων σύµπαντα πανσόφως παρατρέχει, καὶ Παλαµήδην οὐδαµῶς ἔγραψε τῇ ποιήσει, ἵνα τὸν Ἀχιλέα µὲν ἐπίορκον µὴ δείξῃ, τὸ κράτιστον κεφάλαιον αὐτοῦ τῶν ἐγκωµίων, διὰ γυναῖκα ποταπὴν τοὺς ὅρκους παραβάντα· … Ὅθεν οὐδὲ τὴν πόρθησιν τῆς Τροίας ἀφηγεῖται, σιγᾷ δὲ µέχρι τῆς σφαγῆς Ἕκτορος ῥαψῳδήσας. Τὴν πόρθησιν τῆς Τροίας δὲ παρέδραµε πανσόφως· 41 As recently demonstrated, the Allegories of the Iliad and the Allegories of the Odyssey from a unitary poem, the Homeric Allegories: A. Ravani, “The Engineer and the Ocean. Structural Hints for John Tzetzes’ ‘Homeric Allegories’,” ByzZeit 116 (2023) 885–910. The available edition of the Allegories of the Iliad (the first part of the Homeric Allegories) is J. F. Boissonade, Tzetzae Allegoriae Iliadis accedunt Pselli Allegoriae (Paris 1851). I am in the process of completing a new edition of the Homeric Allegories. 42 For more on the structure and composition of the Prolegomena see Ravani, in Τζετζικαὶ ἔρευναι 261–289. 43 Like Manasses, Tzetzes follows Philostratus when it comes to assessing the ‘real’ story of Achilles’ wrath; see also Carmina Iliaca 1.370–2.4. For further information and comparison of these two versions see Jeffreys, Byzantion 49 (1979) 211–212. 144 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 πρὸ γὰρ αὐτῆς ὁ Ἀχιλεὺς γυναικωδῶς ἐσφάγη. Οὕτω πανσόφως καὶ δεινῶς ῥητορικῷ τῷ τρόπῳ πρὸς µὲν τὸ τέλος εἴασε τὴν πόρθησιν τῆς Τροίας, ἐκ τῆς ἀρχῆς δὲ µέχρι νῦν τοῦ χρόνου τοῦ δεκάτου τὰ πάντα παρετρόχασε δεινὸς ὢν λογογράφος, ἄρχεται δ’ ἐκ τῆς µήνιδος δεινότητος µεθόδῳ, γράφων αὐτὴν ὡς βούλεται, καὶ γράφει γεγονέναι διὰ γυναῖκας καὶ αὐτὸς λέγων αὐτὴν γενέσθαι. But Homer, being a most skillful writer, most wisely omits everything leading up to these events, and did not write about Palamedes at all in his poem, so as not to reveal Achilles, the mighty subject of his encomium, as a perjurer, transgressing his oaths for a woman of no account, … That is why he does not narrate the sack of Troy either; he stops singing until the slaying of Hektor. He most wisely omitted the sack of Troy, for Achilles was slain like a woman prior to the sack. Thus, most wisely and skillfully, in his rhetorical manner he did not conclude with the sack of Troy; from the beginning until the tenth year he omitted everything, being a skillful writer, and skillfully he begins with the wrath, writing about it as he wishes, saying also that it happened because of women.44 Homer does not want to offend his heroes, so he does not tell how Achilles broke his oaths and how, shortly before the sack of Troy, he was brutally slain. This explanation is not found in the scholia. Tzetzes’ concern for the causes, but in general more for the precepts of late antique rhetoric, can be finally confirmed by his commentary on Hermogenes’ On Invention. Concerning the qualities that a good narrative should have, he stresses once 44 Transl. A. J. Goldwyn and D. Kokkini, John Tzetzes. Allegories of the Iliad (Cambridge [Mass.] 2015) 87–89. ALBERTO RAVANI 145 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 again the importance of the causes:45 ἐν τῇ προδιηγήσει µὲν ὁ ῥήτωρ προδιδάξας ὅπερ χρεὼν κατάρχεσθαι µὴ ἀκεφάλῳ τρόπῳ, λέγει δὲ προδιήγησιν, εἶτα καὶ διηγεῖσθαι. ἐπεὶ νῦν τὴν διήγησιν ἀπήρξατο διδάσκειν, λέξει τοὺς ταύτης πλατυσµούς, καὶ πόσοι τούτων τρόποι. Πέντε δὲ διηγήσεως τῶν πλατυσµῶν οἱ τρόποι· πράγµατα τὰ πραττόµενα, αἰτία πραττοµένων· καὶ τὰ παραλειπόµενα, καὶ αἱ αἰτίαι τούτων, καὶ σὺν αὐτοῖς οἱ λογισµοί. In the preliminary account the rhetor shows that it is necessary not to start without a beginning, which he called prodiēgēsis, and then to start narrating; he will say how to expand a narrative and in what ways. Five are the ways of expanding a narrative. The acts that are accomplished, the cause of the acts, those that were omitted, and their causes, and, with them, the reflections. This is the method Tzetzes followed in his composition of the Little-and-Big Iliad, a narrative of an event (the Trojan War), as all the “Iliads” are, which starts from its causes. As we have seen, in his other works Tzetzes always made sure to add a brief intro- duction or preliminary account on the causes of the war. Isaac Porphyrogennetos It was Frederik Kindstrad who convincingly demonstrated that Isaac Porphyrogennetos, author of poems and commen- taries, was one of the younger children of Alexios I and therefore brother of Anna Komnene and John II.46 Isaac Komnenos 45 Cramer, Anecd.Ox. IV (1837) 58.1–8; λογισµοί has been written instead of λόγοι for metrical reasons, see Waltz, Rh. Gr. III (1834) 625.26. A new edition of Tzetzes’ Commentary on Hermogenes is in preparation under the super- vision of Aglae Pizzone. The commentary on Hermogenes’ On Invention will be edited by Baukje van den Berg. 46 J. F. Kindstrand, Isaac Porphyrogenitus. Praefatio in Homerum (Uppsala 1979) 13–20, which also contains a list of his works. For a biographical profile see 146 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 (1093–1152) was recognised as a learned man and praised for his knowledge even by the poet Theodoros Prodromos.47 Among several scholarly works,48 Isaac is known for having written three Homeric prose works—essentially three short essays: On Homer, On the things left out by Homer, and On the quality and features of Trojan and Greek Heroes.49 As Filippomaria Pontani has shown, these works were all conceived to accompany Isaac’s own edition of the Iliad, which was copied into Paris.gr. 2682 [diktyon 52318].50 The manuscript dates to the first half of the fourteenth century and so cannot be Isaac’s personal copy.51 However, according to Pontani’s analysis, this manuscript re- produces a master copy conceived by Isaac himself with his original scholia. The Parisinus opens with the preface On Homer and ends with the two other works which, as Kindstrand correctly observes, should actually be considered a single con- cluding essay divided into two parts.52 In addition, in Paris.gr. K. Varzos, Ἡ γενεαλογία τῶν Κομνηνῶν I (Thessalonike 1984) 238–254 (K 36), and V. F. Lovato, “Isaac Komnenos and the Letter of Aristeas,” in Isaac Komnenos Porphyrogennetos. Walking the Line in Twelfth-century Byzantium (Abingdon 2024) 10–21. 47 W. Hörandner, Theodoros Prodromos. Historische Gedichte (Vienna 1974) no. 42, esp. lines 7–12. 48 Listed by Lovato, in Isaac Komnenos 17–18, and cf. the other contributions in the volume. 49 The edition of the first is Kindstrand, Isaac Porphyrogenitus. Praefatio 27– 32, the other two are in H. Hink, Polemonis Declamationes quae extant duae (Leipzig 1873) 57–88 (De rebus ab Homero praetermissis and De proprietate et characteribus Graecorum et Troianorum, qui ad Troiam convenerant). For an overview of the Homeric works see A.-L. Rey, “Isaac Komnenos and the Scholarship of a Learned Prince,” in Isaac Komnenos 151–168. 50 See F. Pontani, “The First Byzantine Commentary on the Iliad: Isaac Porphyrogenitus and his Scholia,” ByzZeit 99 (2006) 551–596. For a de- scription of how the Homeric works tie in with the manuscript and the layout see Rey, in Isaac Komnenos 151–168. 51 See Pontani, ByzZeit 99 (2006) 554–555. 52 Kindstrand, Isaac Porphyrogenitus. Praefatio 11. The same is suggested by ALBERTO RAVANI 147 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 2682 the text of the Iliad is a commented edition made by Isaac Porphyrogennetos himself.53 This manuscript is not only a wonderful testimony for Homeric reception, but also contributes substantially to our knowledge of Komnenian book culture. What is relevant here are the works Isaac wrote as a con- clusion to his Iliadic manuscript and, in particular, the first part of the concluding essay on “the events that Homer left out” (τῶν καταλειφθέντων παρὰ τοῦ Ὁµήρου). In the opening, he says that he decided to furnish his manuscript of the Iliad with a text that provides the reader with the end of the story. Far from being a rushed composition, this concluding essay is a well-researched account not just of the siege of Troy, but also of all the events before it (Praef. 61.7–13): ἐγὼ δὲ … τὰ παρὰ τοῦ ποιητοῦ καταλειφθέντα καὶ σποράδην διαφόροις παλαιῶν βίβλοις ἐγκείµενα ἱστορίαις τε καὶ ὑφη- γήσεσι συλλέξας τῷ παρόντι πέρατι τῆς Ὁµηρείου βίβλου συνεπτυγµένως ἐκτίθηµι. I have collected the events left out by the Poet which are pre- served here and there, in various books of old writers, in histories and stories; I present them here, bound together to the end of this Homeric book. Isaac writes this additional essay because he feels that the reader would be disappointed by not learning the end of the story. His admission of using various sources is an acknowl- edgement that the Homeric poem lacks information; however, it is also a statement of the highly derivative nature of these writings, which is also why Isaac’s essays have been little studied and too quickly dismissed.54 Interestingly, both parts of the concluding essay recall an alleged short treatise attributed to Pontani, ByzZeit 99 (2006) 557, and Rey, in Isaac Komnenos 162. Hink gives two titles, but in his edition makes no formal separation between the two works (Polemonis Declamationes 79) as in the manuscript (Paris.gr. 2682 f. 373r: https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b10723100m/f355.item). 53 See Pontani, ByzZeit 99 (2006) 557; the second part of the article gives an overview of the commentary. 54 On this point see Kindstrand, Isaac Porphyrogenitus. Praefatio 11–12. 148 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Porphyry called On the names omitted by the poets, which Hartmut Erbse demonstrated to be just a single zetema from Porhpyry’s Homeric Questions, excerpted from the commentary on Book 2 of the Iliad.55 That said, Porphyry does not seem to be among Isaac’s sources. While the first part of the final essay draws on multiple sources like Malalas and even Euripides’ Hecuba, the portraits of the Greek heroes are taken directly from Malalas’ Chronicle.56 Indeed, Isaac himself admits to not knowing why Homer did not include—at least—the final siege of Troy in his Iliad; he openly criticizes Homer and his selection of material, without any attempt to justify the omissions (Praef. 59.13–16): τὸν τρόπον τῆς πανωλεθρίας Τρωϊκῆς ἁλώσεως τοῦτον, οὐκ οἶδ’ ὅπως, τοῖς ἀκροωµένοις καὶ ἐντυχοῦσι τῇ παρούσῃ βίβλῳ οὐδ’ ὁποσοῦν διεσάφησε. the very way in which Troy was utterly destroyed—I do not know why—he did not at all explain to the listeners and readers of this book. Here is Isaac’s remedy. When he prepares his own manuscript with the text of the Iliad and his commentary on it, he feels the need to fill the gap that the main author, the poet, has left. Isaac was aware that a good author, when writing a narrative, should always include the causes of the event and then tell it from the beginning to the end—as Aphthonius prescribed. At the same time, he does not renounce Homer: he could have presented a version of Malalas or another account of the war; instead, Isaac chose Homer. The reason why Isaac kept the Iliad and in- tegrated that account with his own writing at the end is only speculative; however, it seems logical that Homer’s new-found eminence and general value for both Byzantine education and 55 For an overview of the issue see the summary in J. A. MacPhail, Jr., Porphyry’s Homeric Questions on the Iliad (Berlin 2011) 11–12. 56 On some of these see F. Pontani, “The Dignity of Kingship Asserted: Isaac’s ‘political’ Notes on the Iliad,” in Isaac Komnenos 137–148. These kinds of portraits appear also in Tzetzes’ Allegories of the Iliad prol. 508–835. ALBERTO RAVANI 149 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Komnenian society may have influenced his decision. What matters is that Isaac provides us with a material example of how to deal with Homer’s gaps and, therefore, with the gaps that Isaac’s own choice implied. Eustathios of Thessalonike In her Homer the Rhetorician,57 Baukje van der Berg dedicates an entire chapter to describing how, in his rich Parekbolai on the Iliad, Eustathios of Thessalonike, metropolitan and renowned scholar of the twelfth century,58 explains Homer’s compositional meth- od. His works on the Iliad and the Odyssey are called parekbolai: this implies that the commentaries have been compiled, rather than written, drawn from a huge selection of exegetical material assembled with the purpose of teaching rhetoric by using Homer —and not explaining Homer.59 The Parekbolai is a handbook for schoolmasters and—unlike the scholia—allows for consultation, or, more generally, reading without the Homeric text.60 In her analysis, van den Berg clearly explains why, according to Eustathios, Homer selected and arranged the matter in such a way.61 Even if Achilles’ wrath is only a segment of a longer war, it is the “peak of the action” (ἀκµὴ τῶν ἔργων), so it captivates 57 Homer the Rhetorician: Eustathios of Thessalonike on the Composition of the Iliad (Oxford 2022) 57–103 (“The Skilful Composition of the Iliad”). 58 For an overview of Eustathios’ life see Ronchey in P. Cesaretti and S. Ronchey, Eustathii Thessalonicensis Exegesis in Canonem Iambicum Pentecostalem (Berlin 2014) 7*–30*, with previous bibliography. 59 The complete name should be Παρεκβολαὶ τῶν εἰς τὴν Ἰλιάδα / Ὀδύσσειαν see E. Cullhed (ed.), Eustathios of Thessalonike. Commentary on Homer’s Odyssey. Volume 1, on Rhapsodies α–β (Uppsala 2016) 2*–3*: extracts from works on the Iliad or Odyssey. 60 This difference is mainly that Tzetzes’ Exegesis of the Iliad like the Little- and-Big Iliad and the Allegories—at least the Prolegomena and the first fifteen books—were conceived to be read without the Homeric text. Eustathios marks the difference between his Parekbolai and an exegesis at Comm. ad Od. 10.12–14 Cullhed. 61 For the full explanation see van den Berg, Homer the Rhetorician 63–73. 150 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 the audience more than a chronological sequence.62 This ex- planation is essentially drawn directly from the scholia which also had explained that this last segment of a ten-year war was the only one worth telling. For Eustathios, this is a display of Homer’s rhetorical abilities: the pre-planned arrangement of the events, called οἰκονοµία, and the elaboration of the plot (δια- σκευή) from the story-line, or fabula.63 For Eustathios, Homer does rearrange and further elaborate the plot both at the level of books or single episodes and at the more general level of the poem as a whole. On the other hand, Eustathios is fully aware that the tale of the Trojan War starts long before the Homeric Iliad, with the birth of Paris, ending after the end of the poem with the siege of the city. He states this at the beginning of his commentary, re- assuring his “gluttonous” readers that all the events of the war will be told, just not chronologically.64 Homer starts in medias res but gives his readers some background by scattering previous events in the narrative. At the end, the reader has a complete view of the events. It is then interesting to see that Eustathios’ definition of an “Iliad” essentially coincides with that of Tzetzes. In the first lines of the prologue, Eustathios explains the meaning of the title of the Homeric poem, the Iliad (Comm. prooem. 5.8–10, 14–21): ταύτην δὲ τὴν βίβλον συλληπτικώτερον Ἰλιάδα ἐκάλεσε καὶ οὔτε ἀπὸ ἑνός τινος ὡς ἐὰν Ἀχίλλεια ἤ τι τοιοῦτον ἐκαλεῖτο, οὔτε διὰ τοὺς Ἰλιεῖς, ὡς δηλαδὴ τὰ τῶν Ἰλιέων µόνων περιέχουσαν κακά, ἀλλ’ ὅτι περιέχει τὰ κατὰ τὴν Ἴλιον συµπεσόντα ἤτοι τὰ Τρωϊκά … οὐχ’ ἁπλῶς ἐνταῦθα ὁ ποιητὴς περὶ τῶν Ἰλιέων λέγει τί ἔπαθον, ἀλλὰ καὶ τοῦτο µέν, σκοπὸς δὲ αὐτῷ τοῦ βιβλίου, ὡς 62 This explanation is given at Comm. ad Il. ad 7.34–35; see further van den Berg, Homer the Rhetorician 64–66. 63 See van den Berg, Homer the Rhetorician 69–73. 64 Comm ad Il.. prooem. 5.8–15. For an analysis of Eustathios’ readership and the gluttonous readers see A. Pizzone, “Audiences and Emotions in Eustathios of Thessalonike’s Commentaries on Homer,” DOP 70 (2016) 225– 244, esp. 229–230. ALBERTO RAVANI 151 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 καὶ αὐτὸς ἐν προοιµίῳ ἐκτίθεται, εἰπεῖν ὅσα κακὰ ἐν τῷ καιρῷ τῆς τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως µήνιδος καὶ οἱ Τρῶες καὶ οἱ Ἕλληνες ἔπαθον καὶ µάλιστα οἱ Ἕλληνες. He more comprehensively named the present book Iliad; it was named neither after one person, e.g. Achilleid or something similar, nor after the Ilians, as if, of course, comprising the misery of the Ilians only, but [it is called Iliad] because it contains the events that happened in relation to Ilium, i.e. the Trojan War. (transl. van den Berg 193–194) The answer is clear. The poem is called “Iliad” because it contains (περιέχει) the facts which happened in Ilion, that is, the Trojan matter (τὰ Τρωϊκά). Eustathios again follows the scholia by saying that Homer does not name the poem “Achilleid” since what he offers is a comprehensive view of the events that un- folded on both sides of the battlefield during a specific timespan, the “accursed wrath” of Achilles. This equivalence between “Iliad” and Trojan matter is further strengthened a few lines later, at the end of the prologue, where, after a morphological analysis of the word “Ilias,” Eustathios concludes that the expressions “The Homeric Iliad” and “the Trojan matter by Homer” are equivalent.65 Both Eustathios and Tzetzes give their own explanations of why Homer covers only a small portion of the war and omit both the beginning and the end of the war. While Eustathios draws more faithfully on the previous exegetical tradition, Tzetzes in- novates, suggesting his own ideas. Despite the diverging ex- planations, both scholars share the same definition of “Iliad,” which is essentially that of a historical account of the war. A Conclusion For Byzantine authors the Trojan War was a historical reality. Every account of it was therefore considered a narrative of a real event. Narratives of real events had to be written according to the rules set out by Aphthonius and Hermogenes on narratives. 65 Comm. ad Il. prooem. 5.24–27. The expressions are Ὁµήρου Ἰλιάς and Ὁµήρου Τρωϊκά. 152 OUTLINING THE ILIAD IN THE KOMNENIAN AGE ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 Homer and his Iliad were therefore a potential problem: there are no causes and no start of the war, there is no conclusion, and the timeline is not always clear; Homer however was the Poet, an author taught in school, whom all who could read deeply admired, as Manasses and Tzetzes show. This importance and value attributed to Homer clashed with how they were taught to write—and read—a text; in the mean- time, alternative versions of the Trojan War enjoyed great popularity. This started in the Roman period with Dictys, but it is the Chronicle of Malalas that secured great popularity for this more historical version, one which is complete and has no divine interventions. In the twelfth century, chroniclers included the Trojan War in their accounts of world history, again drawing mostly from Malalas. Manasses is the first to mention Homer, but essentially only to criticise him. Tzetzes praised Homer and dedicated many of his writings to the Homeric poems; nonetheless, he is aware that the events of the Trojan War must be told from the causes of the war to the tragic siege of the city. This is in fact the content of his own Iliad written in Homeric style. A slightly different perspective is offered by Isaac Porphyrogennetos, who remains perplexed by the fact that Homer does not tell the end of the story; therefore, he decides to add it himself in a prose work, a coda to his own edition of the Iliad. Finally, Eustathios reassures his readers that Homer only wanted to showcase all his rhetorical abilities; if read in its entirety, the reader will find that the book contains all the events from the start of the war to the end. When analysed closely, all the authors analysed see an “Iliad” as it was defined by Eustathios and Tzetzes: an account of the Trojan matter. The problem arises when they have to explain why Homer, the best writer of all, wrote a poem without the causes and the end of the war. The Homeric Iliad does not start from Paris and Hecuba’s ominous dream and does not finish with the sack of Troy. This contravenes the theoretical principles that they were taught and followed. However, despite the ALBERTO RAVANI 153 ————— Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 65 (2025) 127–153 criticism, those scholars found ways to clarify or excuse Homer, either by praising other qualities, as Manssases does, or by find- ing explanations—perhaps even far-fetched and inconsistent—to clarify his choices. Such a great author cannot fail, even if he does something wrong. In conclusion, an answer to the initial question is due: are there borders between the Trojan matter and Homeric epics in twelfth-century Homeric scholarship? No, there are not. Homer is the writer of the Trojan matter: one of the many—of course— but absolutely the best, or at least the one with the best style.66 September, 2024 Seeger Center for Hellenic Studies Princeton University alberto.ravani@princeton.edu 66 A draft of this paper was presented at the Oxford University Byzantine Society Graduate conference in February 2020. It was then thoroughly reviewed and rewritten during my stay at the Austrian Academy of Sciences funded by the OeAD (Ernst Mach scholarship and WTZ CZ11/2023 För- derprogramm “Late Byzantine Narratives between Primary and Secondary Orality”). During its many phases this paper profited from the advice of many friends and scholars; I thank Krystina Kubina for her constant advice and support and (in alphabetical order) Frederick Bird, James Cogbill, Markéta Kulhánková, Andreas Rhoby, and Nikos Zagklas.