We find night likewise described in Iliad 10.142. Ambrosia, the food of both the gods (see Odyssey 5.93, 5.199, 9.359) and their divine horses, is used by the gods for a variety of other purposes in Homer, including as perfume (Odyssey 4.445), as a cosmetic (Iliad 14.170), and as a preservative for the corpses of Patroklos and Sarpedon (Iliad 16.670 and 680 and 19.38). At Iliad 1.529, Zeus’ hair is described as ambrosios, as is sleep at 2.19. In Iliad 18.268 and 24.363, night is again ambrosial. There is, as we can see, a wide range of associations for this word. In Iliad 10.83, 10.276, and 10.386, the metrically equivalent phrase νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην is used in the same position in the line. This phrase has a spondee where ἀμβροσίην has a dactyl, but both phrases occupy the same metrical space. νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην is also found at Odyssey 9.143 and the Homeric Hymn to Hermes 578. Although it is not impossible to have two metrically equivalent formulas expressing the same essential idea, such duplications are rare in Homer, so we should expect the two adjectives to convey different things. The context of νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην in Odyssey 9 is the ambush-like episode of the Cyclops (see Dué and Ebbott 2010), and its use of Hermes (whose nighttime thievery and cunning are celebrated in the Homeric Hymn) is likewise suggestive of an association between this word and nighttime escapades. Norman Austin (1975:71–73) sees ὀρφναίη as being particularly evocative of night’s darkness, which is of course appropriate for both ambush and thievery. Night is in general ambrosial, according to Austin, because of the welcome rest it brings at the end of the day, but it is particularly so in the Iliad: “Night [in the Iliad] means the end of a day’s fighting. It is relief from weary battle, but, more importantly for the Homeric hero, it means survival through another day.” But the night of Iliad 10 is marked by anxiety, fear, and a raid on the enemy camp, hence the appropriateness of νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην. (For alternate views on why night is ambrosial, see Hainsworth 1993 ad 10.41 and Heubeck, West, and Hainsworth 1988 ad 4.429, 4.445, and 5.93 with bibliography ad loc.) Georg Danek (1988:80) has interpreted the alternation between the formulas νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην and νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην as an intentional variation on the part of the composer of this book. (For more on Danek’s arguments about the composer of Iliad 10, see Dué and Ebbott 2010. Danek views the attempt to vary traditional phraseology as a hallmark of this poet’s individual style. As we note in the above referenced essay, this approach is problematic from the standpoint of the methodology developed by Parry and Lord in studying oral traditions. It rests on the assumption that a singer within a traditional system would strive to “break free” of that tradition and compose in a new way. Austin’s approach is helpful, because it finds two different ways that night can be characterized and shows how context affects the choice of either formula. Throughout his 1975 work, however, Austin himself seeks to counter Parry’s demonstration of the economy of Homeric diction, and uses these words as an example of how the poet of the Iliad can achieve various literary goals, unconstrained by formulaic diction. But another way to look at it is to say that Austin’s account of the different conceptualizations of the night enhances and clarifies Parry’s arguments about the economy of Homeric diction, which Parry describes as “free of phrases which, having the same metrical value and expressing the same idea, could replace one another” (Parry 1971:86). There is more than one way to say “night” here, because night is not a monolithic concept. When a poet wants to invoke night with its associations with relief and rest, νύκτα δι᾽ ἀμβροσίην would be easily summoned. The night encompassed by Iliad 10, however, is of a different sort, and as a result, the formula νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην is used three or four times. This interpretation seems strengthened by Iliad 24.363, which is identical to 10.83, with the exception of the formula for night: τίς δ᾽ οὗτος κατὰ νῆας ἀνα στρατὸν ἔρχεαι οἶος νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην, ὅτε θ᾽ εὕδουσι βροτοὶ ἄλλοι,
Iliad 10.82–83
“Who is this that comes down to the ships through the encamped mass of warriors all alone through the dark night, when other mortals are sleeping?” πῇ πάτερ ὧδ’ ἵππους τε καὶ ἡμιόνους ἰθύνεις νύκτα δι’ ἀμβροσίην, ὅτε θ’ εὕδουσι βροτοὶ ἄλλοι;Iliad 24.362–363
“Where, father, are you driving your horses and mules like this through the ambrosial night, when the other mortals are sleeping?” In Iliad 24, Priam is attempting to sneak into Achilles’ camp during the night undetected; the formula νύκτα δι᾽ ὀρφναίην would seem to be appropriate. (See above on 10.1ff. for more on how Priam’s journey has thematic associations with other nighttime missions to the enemy’s camp.) But the speaker of these lines is the disguised Hermes, talking to Priam in the form of a young man who should be unaware of Priam’s mission. Accordingly, he uses the more innocent-sounding and divine νύκτα δι’ ἀμβροσίην. Alternatively, we can interpret the absence of ὀρφναίην as significant within the system that generated the two formulas. As we have seen, the theme of the night raid/ambush attracts its own subset of formulas, which are not typically found outside of this context in Homer. If Priam’s expedition to Achilles, though it takes place at night, is not being characterized as an ambush, night is therefore not dark, but the more generic “ambrosial.” (For a more expanded discussion of how this formula works within the theme of ambush, see, in addition to Dué and Ebbott 2010, Dué 2011. References Austin, N. 1975. Archery at the Dark of the Moon: Poetic Problems in Homer’s Odyssey. Berkeley. Danek, G. 1988. Studien zur Dolonie. Vienna. Dué, C. and Ebbott, M. 2010. Iliad 10 and the Poetics of Ambush: A Multitext Edition with Essays and Commentary. Cambridge, MA. Dué, C. 2011. “Maneuvers in the dark of night: Iliad 10 in the twenty-first century.” In Homeric Contexts: Neoanalysis and the Interpretation of Oral Poetry (eds. F. Montanari, A. Rengakos, and C. Tsagalis) 165–173. Berlin. Hainsworth, J. B. 1993. The Iliad: A Commentary III. Books 9–12. Cambridge. Heubeck, A., West S., and Hainsworth, J. eds. 1988. A Commentary on Homer’s Odyssey. Vol. I. Oxford. Lord, A. B. 1960/2000. The Singer of Tales. Cambridge, MA. 2nd ed, 2000. ed. S. Mitchell and G. Nagy. Cambridge, MA. Parry, A., ed. 1971. The Making of Homeric Verse: The Collected Papers of Milman Parry. Oxford.