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Small Miracles
"Sappho rejoined:… 'thou would'st have spoken of what is right'."
Aristotle, Rhetoric - trans. J. H. Freese.
In light of the wonderful posts we've had here this week, I'd like to wrap things up by taking a deeper look at Sappho herself. She was a lyrical poet, yes, adored by the likes of Plato and his ilk, but she was also a woman. She went through petty family drama, and was the subject of an Ancient penis joke. She was as real as you or I and yet, despite history taking literal bites out of her work, she has persevered to the point that we have devoted a week to her here. That speaks volume. Sappho, you go girl.
"someone will remember us
I say, even in another time"
If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho - Anne Carson.
In order to understand the art we must first understand the artist, and the world in which they lived, and so I propose examining Fragment 16 within a historical framework, so that we might better place ourselves in Sappho's shoes (or, um, her sandals).
Love, in Sappho's timeframe, was not considered in and of itself to be a major topic of lyrical poetry; songs were sung for wars, for conquerors, for politics. It says something about the way in which Sappho would have stood out to an Ancient audience that the next poet to write primarily of love was Anacreon, who did not rise to fame until towards the end of Sappho's life.
Sappho truly was a one-in-a-generation kind of lady.
Her exact birthdate is unknown, but deducible to be between 630 and 612 BC; a time in which the Greek state was undergoing crucial changes – advancements both in philosophy and other contemporary sciences such as astronomy, but also in politics. The 7th Century saw the rise of a previously unknown lawgiver by the name of Draco (of draconian fame). Within the span of Sappho's short life she would have witnessed an intense overhaul of Greek legislation – and it is the notable lack of politics in Sappho's work that is of most interest to us. Her contemporaries pontificate on such topics, but Sappho stays distant, firmly rooted in her ideals of love. Sappho herself says it best:
some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing
Some men do; Sappho does not. Her interest is in love itself, is in the root of love, is in the women themselves. Her choice to use Helen as the prime example of femininity is easily understandable: Helen was known by all and loved by all. To a Greek audience, Helen was a symbol of war, but Sappho intentionally strips the constant metaphors of war that seem to follow Helen throughout history, and instead writes:
I would rather see her lovely step
and the motion of light on her face
than chariots of Lydians or ranks
of footsoldiers in arms.
Helen was more than a symbol of war though; she was a catalyst, a figurehead of the 'no one messes with the Greeks' school of thought. She began as a beauteous princess in Homer's epic, but was transposed throughout the centuries to fit whatever framework was required. Sappho's contemporary Greeks, who were a war-mongering bunch at the best of times, needed all the patriotism they could get. Sappho's presentation of Helen as a woman, not an object, and her shunning of war-metaphors would have caused a stir, to say the least.
At the time of Sappho's writing (roughly, I mean, because the timeline is truly guesswork) Greece was at war with Carthage – in particular, Greece was at the beginning of a war with Carthage that would last hundreds of years, over control of the island of Sicily. Closer to home, Sappho's island of Lesbos was continuously under military threat from Lydia – a kingdom in what is nowadays Turkey. No wonder Sappho wants nothing to do with "chariots of Lydians". With this in mind, Sappho's choice to disregard "an army of horse" and "an army on foot" as the pinnacle of beauty is all the more significant. She's not just making pretty with words, she's making a political statement, and an unpopular one at that.
Sappho was certainly a lesbian in terms of geographical demonym – she was born on the North Aegean island of Lesbos – but whether that descriptor extends to her sexual identity is down to pure speculation. Sappho was certainly an admirer of women, and arguably a lover of them too, but homosexuality as a concept did not exist then as we see it today, and it was never noted in antiquity whether she was homosexual or not. More than likely, she married, and more than likely she had at least one child (the Cleïs of whom she speaks in a number of her works), but the passion in her poetry does not wane. The word lesbian itself wasn't applied to a sexual context until many, many centuries later, by Victorian scholars.
In her work she often writes of Aphrodite, who needs no introduction as the Greek goddess of love, or specifically to Aphrodite. It's the equivalent of someone today dedicating their YA fantasy novel to JK Rowling. The Greeks were eternally invoking the names of gods and goddesses to add credit and emphasis to their works – and so Sappho pleads with Aphrodite herself to release her from the turmoil of love.
Plato, in his Phaedrus, devotes a light-hearted segment of his dialogue to discussing who the forerunners in penning works about love were – and he does not hesitate to mention Sappho, referring to her as a "wise… wom(an) of old", implying that, for Plato at least, she was considered a Prima Donna in love poetry – at least 200 years after she died, before her works were ever collected and organised in the library at Alexandria.
After the destruction of Alexandria, devoid of any sense of organisation or protection, it is a small miracle that anything of Sappho's survived at all, and I am sure I'm not alone in being thankful that we have what we do. She truly was a revolutionary in both context and in practise.
Finally, the Britannica has this to say:
"It is not known how her poems were published and circulated in her own lifetime and for the following three or four centuries. In the era of Alexandrian scholarship (especially the 3rd and 2nd centuries BC), what remained of her work was collected and republished in a standard edition of nine books of lyrical verse and one of elegiac. This edition did not survive the early Middle Ages. By the 8th or 9th century AD Sappho was represented only by quotations in other authors. Only one poem, 28 lines long, was complete. The next longest was 16 lines. Since 1898 these fragments have been greatly increased by papyrus finds, though no complete poem has been recovered and nothing equal in quality to the two longer pieces preserved in quotations."
A small miracle indeed.
Aristotle, Rhetoric - trans. J. H. Freese.
In light of the wonderful posts we've had here this week, I'd like to wrap things up by taking a deeper look at Sappho herself. She was a lyrical poet, yes, adored by the likes of Plato and his ilk, but she was also a woman. She went through petty family drama, and was the subject of an Ancient penis joke. She was as real as you or I and yet, despite history taking literal bites out of her work, she has persevered to the point that we have devoted a week to her here. That speaks volume. Sappho, you go girl.
"someone will remember us
I say, even in another time"
If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho - Anne Carson.
In order to understand the art we must first understand the artist, and the world in which they lived, and so I propose examining Fragment 16 within a historical framework, so that we might better place ourselves in Sappho's shoes (or, um, her sandals).
Love, in Sappho's timeframe, was not considered in and of itself to be a major topic of lyrical poetry; songs were sung for wars, for conquerors, for politics. It says something about the way in which Sappho would have stood out to an Ancient audience that the next poet to write primarily of love was Anacreon, who did not rise to fame until towards the end of Sappho's life.
Sappho truly was a one-in-a-generation kind of lady.
Her exact birthdate is unknown, but deducible to be between 630 and 612 BC; a time in which the Greek state was undergoing crucial changes – advancements both in philosophy and other contemporary sciences such as astronomy, but also in politics. The 7th Century saw the rise of a previously unknown lawgiver by the name of Draco (of draconian fame). Within the span of Sappho's short life she would have witnessed an intense overhaul of Greek legislation – and it is the notable lack of politics in Sappho's work that is of most interest to us. Her contemporaries pontificate on such topics, but Sappho stays distant, firmly rooted in her ideals of love. Sappho herself says it best:
some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing
Some men do; Sappho does not. Her interest is in love itself, is in the root of love, is in the women themselves. Her choice to use Helen as the prime example of femininity is easily understandable: Helen was known by all and loved by all. To a Greek audience, Helen was a symbol of war, but Sappho intentionally strips the constant metaphors of war that seem to follow Helen throughout history, and instead writes:
I would rather see her lovely step
and the motion of light on her face
than chariots of Lydians or ranks
of footsoldiers in arms.
Helen was more than a symbol of war though; she was a catalyst, a figurehead of the 'no one messes with the Greeks' school of thought. She began as a beauteous princess in Homer's epic, but was transposed throughout the centuries to fit whatever framework was required. Sappho's contemporary Greeks, who were a war-mongering bunch at the best of times, needed all the patriotism they could get. Sappho's presentation of Helen as a woman, not an object, and her shunning of war-metaphors would have caused a stir, to say the least.
At the time of Sappho's writing (roughly, I mean, because the timeline is truly guesswork) Greece was at war with Carthage – in particular, Greece was at the beginning of a war with Carthage that would last hundreds of years, over control of the island of Sicily. Closer to home, Sappho's island of Lesbos was continuously under military threat from Lydia – a kingdom in what is nowadays Turkey. No wonder Sappho wants nothing to do with "chariots of Lydians". With this in mind, Sappho's choice to disregard "an army of horse" and "an army on foot" as the pinnacle of beauty is all the more significant. She's not just making pretty with words, she's making a political statement, and an unpopular one at that.
Sappho was certainly a lesbian in terms of geographical demonym – she was born on the North Aegean island of Lesbos – but whether that descriptor extends to her sexual identity is down to pure speculation. Sappho was certainly an admirer of women, and arguably a lover of them too, but homosexuality as a concept did not exist then as we see it today, and it was never noted in antiquity whether she was homosexual or not. More than likely, she married, and more than likely she had at least one child (the Cleïs of whom she speaks in a number of her works), but the passion in her poetry does not wane. The word lesbian itself wasn't applied to a sexual context until many, many centuries later, by Victorian scholars.
In her work she often writes of Aphrodite, who needs no introduction as the Greek goddess of love, or specifically to Aphrodite. It's the equivalent of someone today dedicating their YA fantasy novel to JK Rowling. The Greeks were eternally invoking the names of gods and goddesses to add credit and emphasis to their works – and so Sappho pleads with Aphrodite herself to release her from the turmoil of love.
Plato, in his Phaedrus, devotes a light-hearted segment of his dialogue to discussing who the forerunners in penning works about love were – and he does not hesitate to mention Sappho, referring to her as a "wise… wom(an) of old", implying that, for Plato at least, she was considered a Prima Donna in love poetry – at least 200 years after she died, before her works were ever collected and organised in the library at Alexandria.
After the destruction of Alexandria, devoid of any sense of organisation or protection, it is a small miracle that anything of Sappho's survived at all, and I am sure I'm not alone in being thankful that we have what we do. She truly was a revolutionary in both context and in practise.
Finally, the Britannica has this to say:
"It is not known how her poems were published and circulated in her own lifetime and for the following three or four centuries. In the era of Alexandrian scholarship (especially the 3rd and 2nd centuries BC), what remained of her work was collected and republished in a standard edition of nine books of lyrical verse and one of elegiac. This edition did not survive the early Middle Ages. By the 8th or 9th century AD Sappho was represented only by quotations in other authors. Only one poem, 28 lines long, was complete. The next longest was 16 lines. Since 1898 these fragments have been greatly increased by papyrus finds, though no complete poem has been recovered and nothing equal in quality to the two longer pieces preserved in quotations."
A small miracle indeed.