James Brophy's travel journal

James Brophy

May 29, 2008

Travels in the Ancient Mediterranean

Journal

I have written a historically-minded travelogue of our trip to the lands of the ancient Greeks and Minoans, concentrating on matters of the history rather than of the vacation. Photos are the guide markers of my journal. They help me to string together the great amount of information we’ve taken in over the few weeks of this trip into a coherent and organized travelogue. The photos are all my own, and are numbered for reference. I will send these photos separately and refer to their numbers within my journal: (1) … (5), etc. (This is a link to the photos James has uploaded to Picasa)

(Travel)

Day Three: The Acropolis, Temple of Zeus, and Ancient Agora

Day Four: Tour of Delphi

Day Six: Tours of Elusis, Corinth and Epidaurus

Day Seven: Archaeological Museum of Athens

Travel to Crete

Day Nine: Tour of Knossos and the Art and Culture of the Minoans at the Heraklion Museum.

Day Ten: Tours of Gortyna, Phaiestos, and Matala

Day Eleven: Tour of Santorini

(Travel)

(1) The Acropolis in all its mighty. The image of its Parthenon has for so long been used as an icon of Greece and of the Ancient World that its easy to forget that it was once actually constructed in the same sense a supermarket or an apartment building is constructed. Workers walked to the top of the acropolis every day for years while the people of the city watched the imposing figure of Athena’s temple rise column by column.

It is a massive this, the Parthenon; rather than being minimized by comparison to the huge acropolis it sits on, it instead makes the acropolis seem small by its unimaginable scale—and we can’t forget the meager level of technology available in the fifth century BC, (or as the Greeks write, PC). Interestingly, the Parthenon really is in equal parts a building and a monument. It has variously over the years been used as a temple to Athena, a treasury of the Delian League, a Church dedicated appropriately to the Virgin Mother, a Mosque (a minaret was even built, now gone), and of course as a munitions store for the Ottomans. It was indeed a building; a large building in fact that could house many people. But the prime function of the incredible Parthenon comes simply from its presence: it exists to be looked upon.

When it was built during the Golden Age of Greece, in the mid 5^th century BC, the Athenians had just a few decades before suffered a major defeat to the great Persian army (480 BC). Following an Athenian victory over the Persians at Eurymedon in 468, the famous sculptor Phidias and the architect Ictinus began work on the temple of the virgin Athena we can still see today. The Parthenon is a symbol of Athenian greatness; its glorious stature and impossible perfection reflect a height of civilization in some ways unparalleled—a reminder from Pericles himself of Athenian superiority that slaps us in the face even today, twenty-five centuries later.

Snuggled to the side of the Acropolis is the Odeon of Herodes Atticus. We can see a great lesson of history in this picture (1). The Odeon, though appearing so appropriately antique one might suppose a fifth-century BC Athenian should have left the temple of Athena having given an offering only to walk a short distance through the gates of the city strong hold, down a flight of stairs, and take a seat in row seven to enjoy a tune. Very probably, right around 1260 AD, some middle ages Athenian probably supposed the same thing. Chronology can be very unintuitive. Ruins, it can seem, are ruins.

(2) Here we see within the walls of the Herodeon and it becomes more clear this and the Parthenon are of a different breed of ancient. This music hall was built by Herodes Atticus for his wife after she died as sort of a memorial. This was in 161 AD, seven centuries after the Parthenon’s construction, well into the Roman period of Greece’s history.

It’s difficult to gain perspective on history. The present can be viewed very easily in all its dimensions, but history is rather more like a composition of howevermany thousands of years into a single image. I am reminded of the monks who lived a thousand years ago in Britain who grew up in the shadow of Hadrian’s Wall which had been constructed a thousand years before. One such monk explained in a history that he was writing, that chariots had once raced across the top between the battlements—a pretty ridiculous idea indeed.

I’m thinking also of the “Cyclopean Walls” of the Mycenaeans. In between the civilizations of Greeks such as Agamemnon who waged the Trojan War (perhaps 13^th century BC), and Greeks such as Leonidas who had a courageous and doomed last stand (480 BC), there was a Dark Age which lasted three centuries or so. After only a three hundred year lull in civilization, Classical Age Greeks called the ruins of Agamemnon’s Mycenae Cyclopean, supposing them to have been built by mythical giants.

I say again, it’s difficult to gain perspective on history. To the American tourist there is probably no difference between the Cyclopean Walls of Mycenae (they are still there and, I can attest, quite remarkable) and, for example, the Odeon of Herodes Atticus. Ruins are Ruins.

(3) Here we see the Ancient Agora of Athens from atop the Rock of St. Paul, otherwise known as the Areopagus. The rock itself is quite worthy of mention. For one thing, it is remarkably slippery and remarkably high up—a questionable combination for a popular tourist site. The rock is, evidently, the site where St. Paul spoke unto the Athenians (you can read about it in that book that those well dressed older gentlemen hand out on campus every year). The rock was not always St. Paul’s, though, as its other name suggests it was once sacred to Aries—once more we see multilayers of history.

The Agora is very impressive itself, as is the view of the city of modern Athens which seems to extend back miles. At one end of the Ancient city center we have the reconstruction of the Stoa of Attalos, built 138 BC, and on the other we see the Temple of Hephaestus (otherwise: The Theseion). The Temple of Hephaestus is in great shape, and apparently was used a Christian Church until fairly recent times.

We can learn a great deal about how people thought of themselves from the Gods they keep around. As Professor Passman discussed, the Goddess Athena’s importance shows us the reflective, clever, prudent nature the Athenians assumed. Hephaestus’s worship in the city probably reflects their handiness and the emphasis they place on their fine craftsmanship—the Parthenon has held up to its warranty I’d say.

(4) As we see, the Temple of Olympian Zeus not far from the Acropolis (indeed this picture was taken from the Acropolis) didn’t hold up so well. This temple is actually a bit older than the Parthenon, and in its day was undoubtedly more overwhelming. It would have been absolutely massive, just the tiny corner that remains sort of puts Hephaestus’s temple to shame.

The temple was begun in the sixth century BC, a hundred years before the Parthenon, predating Democracy in Athens. Its very scale would have required the hubris and means of a tyrant to achieve, not to mention quite a bit of time. Time is precisely was its builder ran out of—in 510 BC Hippias the Tyrant was expelled from Athens. The Temple went unfinished for pretty obvious reasons I think for more than six centuries. When Zeus’ temple was finally finished by Hadrian in the second century AD, Greece’s democracy had once more been rather undercut, this time by the Roman Empire. Zeus must not like Athens. Over the years the massive Temple degraded however, its marble given up to the construction of other things as favor for the Greek Gods dwindled under Emperors like Theodosius II in the fourth century AD.

We next toured the Ancient Agora Museum, which was small but good. I found it interesting to note how the academically minded will find their way to some out of the way artifact that really excites them. In learning the history of Greece, we all are working our way toward internalizing the same big picture, but the landmarks are different for each one of us. In the Ancient Agora museum the most interesting piece for me was a Herma (5) located among statues in the stoa of the museum. It seems like just another anonymous piece of carved marble, and it is, but when I saw it the narrative of Greek history became more real. I am thinking, of course, of Alcibiades put on trial in absentia for having defaced hermai around the city. This herma itself was probably made centuries after Alcibiades, but it is a herma nevertheless, representative of the idea of all hermai. Seeing things like this help distinguish Alcibiades, and Socrates, and the Sicilian Campaign in the deepest part of my mind from the mythological. Alcibiades became a real person. A similar epiphany occurred at seeing the Ostrica (6) bearing the name of Themistokles. To see the very scraps of pottery used as voting tokens in exiling the great Athenian general is a pretty cool experience.

(7) Next we come to the famous site of Delphi where the god Apollo spoke to the ancients. This picture shows the remnants of what must have been a terrific temple to Apollo which was probably originally built in about the 5^th century BC (A popular time, it would seem, for building large, pillared temples.) Picture (8) was a pleasant thing to see: Latin, a language actually comprehensible to me. This sign which likely was once visible at the entrance to the great temple of the god Apollo at Delphi explains that the Emperor Domitian rebuilt the temple at his own expense sometime in the first century AD.

Imagine the importance this Oracle had for the ancient Greeks. This was, it seems, ground zero for ancient Greek spirituality. They believed this site to be the spot where the world of man and the world of the Gods intersect, the center of the universe, and to stand there with this knowledge in mind produces a mighty feeling. Treasuries and offerings from all the great city-states and islands of ancient Greece can be spotted about the grounds. Getting in good with the priests of Apollo here was absolutely essential spiritually but also politically. Because of its panhellenic religious import, Delphi would have served as a meeting place of representatives of all the various Greek peoples—no wonder Athens dropped a pretty penny for its treasury there.

Delphi is a wondrous place, a truly special place. For whatever reason, magnetism? Nescio, it exudes spiritual potency, as does the next site we visited: Eleusis.

Two years ago in a course on Mythology Prof. Bregman discussed the Eleusian mysteries and their overwhelming spiritual importance in the Hellenistic World, as well as their history which dates centuries before that. Once a year initiates from all over Greece came to the very spot pictured (9) and sat in the very same place we sat that day. They experienced something so transformative, so powerful, that they were never the same thereafter. The experience gained them admittance into an afterlife—an exclusive heavenly club that predates Christianity by who knows how many centuries. This was taken seriously by the Greeks. The Chorus from Aristophanes the Frogs discusses the mysteries:

“All evil thoughts and profane be still: far hence, far hence from our choirs depart / who knows not well what the Mystics tell, or is not holy and pure of heart. / I charge them once, I charge them twice, charge them thrice, that they draw not nigh / To the sacred dance of the Mystic choir.”

Dr. Bregman explained that in addition to being clean of deed, once must also speak Greek (that is, in the ancient understanding, Be a Greek). The Emperor Nero himself didn’t dare share in the rites of the Mysteries having been warned that the impure were unwelcome. We must assume from this that Nero respected (feared?) the power of the mysteries enough to abstain from taking them despite his autocratic power.

“When he was in Greece, he durst not attend the celebration of the Eleusinian Mysteries, at the initiation of which, impious and wicked persons are warned by the voice of the herald from approaching the rites.”

(Seutonius Nero XXXIV)

(10) In the museum at Eleusis we saw the remarkable relief of Demeter, Persephone, and Triptolemus—central figures to the religion of the Eleusinian mysteries. Thought the details of the rites themselves are unknown, the experience undergone by the initiates must have paralleled the death and rebirth symbolized by Persephone. Triptolemus, the youth whom Persephone and Demeter raised and taught the art of Agriculture, was also, in the Eleusinian mythology, the first man admitted into the secret.

(11) Here we see the Ploutonion, a cave at Eleusis sacred to Pluto. The logic here is pretty straight forward I think: Eleusis was clearly recognized for whatever reason as being a spiritual site in a way similar to Delphi. Here the world of the Gods can interact with the world of man, and so it is sensible that a cave—literally an entrance into the subterranean—at such a holy place would become sacred to Pluto; Death is an important aspect of the mysteries. On the ground above the Ploutonion is a bell tower bearing the Christian cross. The metaphor can’t be missed: Christianity literally built on top of the remnants of Hellenic worship, a shameful secret in the basement sort of thing also comes to mind.

Image (12) takes us to the site of Ancient Corinth, the Temple of Apollo. This temple to Apollo is very reminiscent of the one at Delphi—ruins are ruins. In this case though they really are quite similar—this temple was probably built around the mid 6^th century, and the age of its columns are quite clear on seeing them. They appear almost organic, like stones which drove themselves naturally out of the ground and formed a temple.

Though a great deal of Corinth was destroyed by the Roman General Mummius in 146 BC, this temple, in its immense gravitas and antiquity, was spared. The rest of the site of Ancient Corinth is very Roma-fied however. How might the Romans have felt on razing a city whose people had built such a monument? The Romans didn’t want to destroy Corinth, I have no doubts about this. For decades the Romans had tried to keep order in Greece without fully dominating it—perhaps they gave the Greeks too much credit? At any rate, Rome found it necessary by 146 to make an example of Corinth, capital of the rambunctious Achaean league. From that year on Rome would be the preeminent force of the Mediterranean world, and Greece would be a subsidiary.

Leaving Corinth, we come to a singular and fascinating place: Epidaurus (13). Much like Delphi and Eleusis, this site held a position of spiritual importance in the ancient world. Sacred to the god Asklepius (14), this was a site of healing and wellness for the Greeks. The god smiled upon this place, and his priests aided and healed through divine guidance all travelers who came there. It even had its own theatre (15) for the pilgrims to enjoy—a theatre which remains in excellent condition and is very likely the best preserved amphitheatre in the world. The quality of its acoustics are unmatched, this much is clear the second you stand at its center and speak onto the crowd of imaginary ancient Greeks. Prof. Ogle’s overwhelming aria rang into the hillside and poured out again, a performance worthy of the venue.

The following day we visited the Archaeological museum of Athens. The museum was truly overwhelming in size, to appreciate all of it would have taken much longer than was possible. Image (16) was eye catching: The handsome Antinoos which was actually larger and more impressive than the Hadrian which was paired with it. It is a bust of such quality that it is one of the representative pieces of the museum, available on mousepads and so fourth. This bust was created sometime after 130 AD, and represents the young man in his divinity (he was deified by Hadrian). The bust gazes downwards in a somewhat tragic manner, perhaps reflecting his tragic drowning in the river Nile.

(17) here we see an example of a 4^th century BC Stele. The Stelai of the museum were among the most interesting things there, and this is a particularly good example. In it, we see the deceased represented as a young athlete conversing with his father (a very common motif). The gaze of the dead is averted from his worldly familiar—this psychological touch common to many Stelai is quite interesting. There is another very tragic stelai I recall (but didn’t photograph unfortunately) of a young woman whose family, including young children, look to her lovingly—she looks solemnly to the ground.

(18) This famous statue of the young slave jockey shows the psychological expressiveness of Greek art from the Hellenistic age onward. I was reminded of the paintings of 16^th century Holland which were the focus of an Honors “read” last year—these paintings were not of Gods and Kings as had been the tradition in Europe, they focused upon sickness, death, depravedness, and all the other things that round out the full range of the human experience. Similarly, Greek art takes on a macabre focus during the angst-ridden years of later Antiquity. It would not occur to an earlier Greek artist to represent a slave boy struggling to win a race, a terrified countenance borne.

I will digress a moment to mention something else on my mind: Someone somewhere at sometime mentioned to me the idea of the duality of viewing ancient art: We can appreciate it for what it looked like when it was created, but why not also appreciate the new meaning it takes on in its ruined state? The interpretation changes completely. (19) shows the current state of the bronze horse—with the glass of its eyes lost, the horse takes on a ghastly appearance. It looks as though its taken the jockey up from the depths of Hell, perhaps through the Ploutonion of Eleusis, who knows.

The next image (20) is of the Site of Knossos on the Island of Crete. This ruin was once a Bronze Age Palace, predating the Acropolis by a thousand years and representing a glorious and mysterious Minoan world. To explore the ruins of this Palace forced me to take on a whole new civilization—as if Greece and Rome wasn’t enough.

The Minoans were remarkably advanced. The scale of the palaces boggles my mind, as does their handle on technology. The experience of standing upon the ruins of this bronze age people will certainly spur further study but in the mean time I am mostly just overwhelmed and without much to say or connect. The religious practices were fascinating: the Labys as Cross, for example, also their worship of the mother goddess.

Image (21) is of the building housing the law code at Gortyn. This law code was written twenty-five hundred years ago, and two thousand years ago the Romans came and made Gortyn an important city in their new Province. The Romans recognized the value of such an ancient code, however, and preserved them for future generations. We see also in this picture a Roman Odeon.

(22) We see here an image of Phaistos. Here depicted is possibly the oldest olive press in the world, perhaps thirty six hundred years old. It is mind boggling—one could literally hop down there and have everything at hand to produce olive oil but the olives themselves (which could be picked some 200 feet away, actually). (23) The defining image of Phaestos, the Phaestos disc containing the only record we have of the most ancient of Minoan scripts.

(24) We see Roman catacombs. After the Romans came to Crete some 1600 years after the Minoan Palaces succumbed to Vulcan’s fury, they needed someplace to put there dead. Some 1968 years after that, roughly, Hippies (Greek: Xippies) needed someplace to take acid and pontificate. (25) We see signs of Hippy inhabitance in a roman crypt.

(26) The Wine dark sea. It was quite remarkable to look out onto the Mediterranean and get lost in its unimaginable vastness and power. How terrifying must it have been to leave the security of land to sail to, for example, the island of Crete with no security that any land would ever be reached? Looking off the side of our boat, nothing could be seen except the infinity of Poseidon’s domain. It is no wonder that the sea was given a holy reverence.

(27) Here we see the view of Santorini’s bay. (28) we see the ancient Minoan frescos which once decorated a palatial residence. One of Greece’s remaining gallants guided us through the art on display at Santorini’s cultural center.