Travels with Herodotus discussion

Ryszard Kapuściński's Travels with Herodotus is a marvelous half-memoir of his career and half-reflection on Herodotus’ The Histories. Other than a few articles I’ve read over the years, this is my first extended exposure to Kapuściński. I have definitely shortchanged myself in not reading more of his work before now. Kapuściński was a Polish journalist/correspondent that consistently put himself in some of the world’s hot spots. From the TIME.com article on this book:

Before his death in January [2007] at age 74, he had been jailed 40 times, witnessed 27 coups and revolutions, survived four death sentences, contracted tuberculosis, cerebral malaria and blood poisoning, and was once doused with benzene and nearly set ablaze. "I was driving along a road from where they say no white man can come back alive," he wrote of that incident, in war-torn Nigeria. "I was driving to see if a white man could, because I had to experience everything for myself."

The last half of the last sentence sums up the spirit that suffuses Travels with Herodotus as well as Kapuściński’s view of Herodotus. Kapuściński starts with an overview of the situation in a post-World War II college, relating the extraordinary situation of Herodotus’ book’s translation into Polish. I think this part is worth an extended excerpt because it captures several appealing features of the book :

In the mid-1940s The Histories had been translated by Professor Seweryn Hammer, who deposited his manuscript in the Czytelnik publishing house. I was unable to ascertain the details because all the documentation disappeared, but it happens that Hammer’s text was sent by the publisher to the typesetter in the fall of 1951. Barring any complications, the book should have appeared in 1952, in time to find its way into our hands while we were still studying ancient history. But that’s not what happened, because the printing was suddenly halted. Who gave the order? Probably the censor, but it’s impossible to know for certain. Suffice it to say that the book finally did not go to press until three years later, at the end of 1954, arriving in the bookstores in 1955.

One can speculate about the delay in the publication of The Histories. It coincides with the period preceding the death of Stalin and the time immediately following it. The Herodotus manuscript arrived at the press just as Western radio stations began speaking of Stalin’s serious illness. The details were murky, but people were afraid of a new wave of terror and preferred to lie low, to risk nothing, to give no one any pretext, to wait things out. The atmosphere was tense. The censors redoubled their vigilance.

But Herodotus? A book written two and a half thousand years ago? Well, yes: because all our thinking, our looking and reading, was governed during those years by an obsession with allusion. Each word brought another one to mind; each had a double meaning, a false bottom, a hidden significance; each contained something secretly encoded, cunningly concealed. Nothing was ever plain, literal, unambiguous—from behind every gesture and word peered some referential sign, gazed a meaningfully winking eye. The man who wrote had difficulty communicating with the man who read, not only because the censor could confiscate the text en route, but also because, when the text finally reached him, the latter read something utterly different from what was clearly written, constantly asking himself: What did this author really want to tell me? And so a person consumed, obsessively tormented by allusion reaches for Herodotus. How many allusions he will find there!

Kapuściński‘s desire to see what’s beyond the border, what’s on the other side, provides him an opportunity to travel in his job. Upon his first assignment outside of Poland his editor-in-chief presented him with a copy of The Histories which was his companion on many of his trips. The hook is provided for the remainder of this book as Kapuściński weaves his personal experiences with reflections on Herodotus’ achievement.

What follows are remarkable experiences in India, China, and Africa in addition to insights about what it took Herodotus to compile his work. My favorite aspect of Kapuściński’s memoirs is his unapologetic recounting of his experiences, whether he makes explicit the tie-in with Herodotus or not. Language proves to be only one difficulty in understanding a different culture: “Cultures are edifices with countless rooms, corridors, balconies and attics, all arranged, furthermore, into such twisting, turning labyrinths, that if you enter one of them, there is no exit, no retreat, no turning back.” Memory plays an important role in the book (or I should say both Kapuściński’s and Herodotus’ books), finding a way to strengthen the fragile nature of recollection. Kapuściński never hides his admiration for Herodotus’ achievements.

Herodotus’ book arose from travel; it is world literature’s first great work of reportage. Its author has reportorial instincts, a journalistic eye and ear. He is indefatigable; he sails over the sea, traverses the steppe, ventures deep into the desert—we have his accounts of all this. He astonishes us with his relentlessness, never complains of exhaustion. Nothing discourages him, and not once does he say that he is afraid.

What propelled him, fearless and tireless as he was, to throw himself into this great adventure? I think that it was an optimistic faith, one that we men lost long ago: faith in the possibility and value of truly describing the world. … But while maintaining the superiority of his fellow countrymen, Herodotus is not uncritical of them.

Kapuściński shows much of the same drive and determination to learn. He recounts his own experiences and those of Herodotus with equal gusto in order to find out what happened and record it for posterity. Kapuściński ‘s delivery of episodes from The Histories, wanting to know about what was left out as well as what was included, demonstrate his storytelling abilities (although keep in mind his tendency to exaggerate or embellish).

If you are not familiar with Herodotus or Kapuściński, Travels with Herodotus proves to be a great introduction to both writers. Even if you have read The Histrories, Kapuściński’s approach adds insight and new ways of looking at the work. Highly recommended.

Note: translation of the book by Klara Glowczewska

Update (2012 Aug 6): In the wake of Ryszard Kapuściński: A Life by Artur Domosławski (translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones) there has been a lot written about Kapuściński's inaccuracies (to put it nicely) and his collaboration with the Communist intelligence agency in Poland. A good overview on the dust-up can be found in Neal Ascherson's essay on the book and Kapuściński's writing.

Update (2012 Aug 28): A review of Artur Domosławski's biography by Peter Englund at Financial Times

Update (2013 Jan 8): Another review of Domosławski's biography by Daivd Ost at Dissent magazine.

“Passion, passion, passion!” Domosławski quotes Kapuściński telling a friend, speaking of the indispensable quality that makes for good creative work. The only serious weakness of this biography is that we don’t see the passion that is so clearly stamped into Kapuściński’s character. Domosławski focuses more on the logistics of his travels and the veracity of selected texts than on the passions that animated him. We get glimpses of these in descriptions of his encounters with friends and in the reminiscences of those friends. But something about the man remains a mystery. Kapuściński could sit for days with street people and guerrillas, listening but not writing. Other times, he carried a gun, in Angola apparently used it—yet the same man who often overstated banal events kept silent about this. There’s something here way beyond fascination with the third world that one wishes his pupil Domosławski had tapped into. Domosławski gives us a Kapuściński of the Left, but tells us too much about his relationship to the Party and not enough about the ardor in all his choices.

Yet this remains an extraordinary book offering a complex picture of a man and his time, and provoking in the reader the deepest reflections—on literature and journalism, the nature of political commitment, and the challenges to maintaining that commitment as the world changes around you.

Aristeas of Proconnesus

I have already mentioned where the author of this account came from; and now I shall tell you what I heard about him in Proconnesus and Cyzicus. Aristeas, they say, was in lineage the equal or superior of any citizen in his town. One day he entered a fuller’s shop in Proconnesus and dies there, so the fuller locked up his workshop and went to announce to Aristeas’ relatives that he had died. The news of his death quickly spread throughout the city, but a man of Cyzicus objected. He had just come from the city of Artace, and he claimed to have just met and talked with Aristeas, who was on his way to Cyzicus. So he vehemently denied that Aristeas was dead. Meanwhile, the relatives of Aristeas went for his body at the fuller’s shop, bringing along what they needed to take up the corpse for burial. But when the place was opened, Aristeas was nowhere to be seen, dead or alive. Seven years later, he appeared in Proconnesus, composed the verses that Hellenes now call the Arimaspea, and, after he had finished them, disappeared a second time.

That is the story told in these cities, but I know also what happened to the Metapontines in Italy some 240 years after the second disappearance of Aristeas. I calculated this interval myself by adding up the years between his appearance in Proconnesus and his appearance in Metapontum. The Metapontines say that Aristeas himself appeared in their land and that he ordered them to erect an altar to Apollo and to set up beside it a statue identified with the name of Aristeas of Proconnesus. For, he said, of all the Italiotes it was to them alone and to their land that Apollo had come; and that he himself had followed the god, not as Aristeas, as he now appeared, but then in the form of a crow. After saying this, he disappeared. … And still today, in their agora, the statue with the name of Aristeas stands beside the cult image of Apollo, surrounded by bay laurel trees.

- Herodotus, The Histories, Book Four, Paragraphs 14 and 15 (translation by Andrea L. Purvis)

Herodotus has dozens of these tantalizing asides in The Histories, snippets of stories he has heard or things he has seen. Unfortunately, many of them raise additional questions. What was the cause for Aristeas’ first disappearance? Did he fake his death in order to take a break from his family? Or did he just want to go for a walk-about? Did he intend to exit with such a flourish? How was he greeted on his return seven years later? Could the sources be trusted for his descriptions of one-eyed men and gold-guarding griffins (described in paragraph 13—not included in the quote above) in the land above the Issedones? Why the second disappearance? Did his life of exploration continue? Who had the bold idea to show up 240 years later and claim to be Aristeas? (That would be the equivalent of someone claiming to be James Cook showing up in Australia today, 240 years after his discovery, requesting the erection of two statues—one of him next to a statue of George III.)


Aristeas makes an appearance in a few additional places, such as Plutarch’s reference to the similarity between Aristeas’ and Romulus’ disappearances in his Life of Romulus. All I have been able to find of Aristeas’ poem is an excerpt in Longinus’ On the Sublime:

Herein I find a wonder passing strange,
That men should make their dwelling on the deep,
Who far from land essaying bold to range
With anxious heart their toilsome vigils keep;
Their eyes are fixed on heaven’s starry steep;
The ravening billows hunger for their lives;
And oft each shivering wretch, constrained to weep,
With suppliant hands to move heaven’s pity strives,
While many a direful qualm his very vitals rives.

(translation by H. L. Havell)

No, Gyges, turn back while you can

Two presentations on the story of Gyges from The Histories. First is Kristen Scott Thomas in The English Patient:

Next is a fun little parody by Mike using scenes from various Star Wars movies:

The Histories discussion: Book Three

Phaidymie feeling for Smerdis's Ears
Picture source

Never hath a painless life
Been cast on mortals by the power supreme
Of the All-disposer, Cronos’ son. But joy
And sorrow visit in perpetual round
All mortals, even as circleth still on high
The constellation of the Northern sky.

What lasteth in the world? Not starry night,
Nor wealth, nor tribulation; but is gone
All suddenly, while to another soul
The joy or the privation passeth on.

( The Trachinian Maidens by Sophocles, translated by Lewis Campbell, lines 127 – 136)

Book Three follows Cambyses’ invasion of Egypt and his resulting madness, the attempted coup by the Magi, and the ascension of Darius to the Persian throne. I am reading the The Landmark Herodotus so all quotes (translation by Andrea L. Purvis), and spellings come from that edition. I realize this post is rather long but there are many wonderful stories and characters to relay.

Herodotus said he visited the Pelusian battlefield where the battle between Persia and Egypt took place in 526 B.C. In comparing the skulls of those that had died, Herodotus notes that the Persian skulls are soft while the Egyptian skulls are very hard. In looking for explanations, Herodotus raises his theme of tje Persian “soft life”: “Exposure to sunshine, then, is the reason they [the Egyptians] have hard skulls, and the Persians conversely have soft skulls because they shade themselves from early childhood.” As I have mentioned in a previous post, Herodotus drops several of these hints but waits until the last paragraph to explicitly pull the “soft places yield soft people” theme together as one of the reasons for Persian failure against the Greeks.

After Egypt falls, Libya and other surrounding areas surrender to Cambyses without a fight. Cambyses plans additional campaigns to conquer even more areas and this is where Herodotus' theme on the importance of geographic borders (or “a river too far” as I find myself referring to it) exerts itself. Herodotus paints Cambyses as reckless and rash, sending his troops to Ethiopia without proper provisions. The resulting cannibalistic decimation unnerves Cambyses and he returns to Memphis. There he finds that the army he sent against the Ammonians is lost in the desert and never heard from again (the Ammonians say a sandstorm swallowed them). Upon returning to Memphis Cambyses sees people celebrating and he thinks they celebrate his defeat in Ethiopia. Upon finding out that the appearance of a new Apis cow, sacred to the Egyptians, is the reason for celebration, Cambyses stabs the cow. Unhinged before this event, he goes completely mad at this point according to Herodotus. (Egyptian records do not support the death of an Apis cow during Cambyses' time in Egypt).

Cambyses has a dream in which his brother Smerdis sits on the royal throne. Cambyses has his most trusted aide, Prexapes, return to Persia and murder his brother. Cambyses marries two of his sisters and then kills one over a perceived insult. Cambyses also kills Prexapes’ son in front of the aide, purportedly to prove he is not mad. Croesus admonishes Cambyses, who flies off the handle and tries to kill the elder aide. Cambyses’ servants shelter Croesus, knowing that the king would repent of his rashness at a later date. When Cambyses does regret his actions, the servants present Croesus, making the king happy. The servants are murdered, though, since they disobeyed the king. Cambyses begins to perform many sacrileges to the Egyptians as he descends into madness. Herodotus’ account of the mistreatments and madness are not supported by other sources, however, so these stories may be more of a reflection of Herodotus' Egyptian sources and their resentment toward the conquering Persian king. (See this article for more discussion on Cambyses’ rule in Egypt, including “The Egyptian evidence that we do have depicts a ruler anxious to avoid offending Egyptian susceptibilities”.)

At this point Herodotus begins a diversion on Polykrates, tyrant of Samos. Polykrates’ renown for his good fortune is known far and wide, causing the ruler of Egypt (Amasis, Psammenitos’ father) to warn him of too much success—he says the gods will become jealous. Polykrates takes Amasis’ advice and throws away something dear to him, a signet ring. When the ring is returned in the belly of a fish presented to the king, Amasis realizes Polykrates is doomed and breaks off contact. Polykrates begins to accumulate enemies but is able to withstand a Spartan siege of his city. Much later in this book Herodotus returns to Polykrates. Oriotes, the Persian governor of Sardis, preyed on Polykrates’ greed and captures him. Herodotus says that “Oroites killed him in a way too disgusting to relate and hung his body from a stake.” Amasis’ prediction had come true and we have an echo of Croesus’ fall and Solon’s warning that a man cannot be truly called fortunate until after he is dead. Also disturbing is Polykrates’ inability to change his fate even though he tries to do so.

Herodotus returns the story to Cambyses—while still in Egypt, he finds out that a rebellion is happening in Persia by someone claiming to be his brother Smerdis. Since he had ordered his aide Prexaspes to murder Smerdis, the king suspects treachery by his aide. But Perxaspes assures the king of his loyalty and suspects the Magus left to administer Cambyses’ household in his absence is behind the plot. The Magus has a brother named Smerdis (Gaumâta is the name on the Behistun Inscription). In his rush to return home, Cambyses accidentally stabs himself in his thigh, “in the very same spot he had earlier struck Apis”. Cambyses has two misinterpreted oracles come true, the first being someone (but not his brother) named Smerdis on the throne. The second oracle had predicted that Cambyses would die in the city of Ecbatana, which Cambyses interprets to mean in Persia. Unfortunately the town in Syria where he stabbed himself was also named Ecbatana and he dies soon after the accident. Cambyses utters a realization while on his deathbed that is echoed by others characters throughout The Histories: “It turns out that in the nature of things human, it is not possible to prevent what is destined.”

Before his death, Cambyses tells notable Persians what he had done to his brother. The Persians don’t believe Cambyses’ story, thinking he is simply trying to discredit his brother (and of course this entire story could have been a later invention of Darius in order to justify usurping the throne from the real Smerdis). Prexaspes finds himself in a bind—he doesn’t want to admit his part in the murder of the brother Smerdis, but he doesn’t want to contradict the king’s confession either. To make matters worse, the false Smerdis is generous to the Persians. The noble Otones figures out that Smerdis is not Cyrus’ son/Cambyses' brother (see below) and forms a group of seven conspirators. At Darius’ urging to act immediately, the conspirators go to the palace just as Prexaspes reveals the truth about his murder of the real Smerdis to a Persian crowd. The conspirators are able to kill the false Smerdis and his brother. The conspirators meet five days later for one of the most famous parts of The Histories, the constitutional debate—what form of government should they adopt. Although it is extremely unlikely this debate took place it is an interesting debate and an important storytelling device. Otones favors an Athenian-style democracy (isonomia, or equality under the law that was not developed for another 13 years), which he believes will offset arrogance and envy that naturally develop under a single ruler. Megabyzos agrees that they should avoid a single ruler, but believes that they should also avoid “the arrogance of the undisciplined common people.” The people, he argues, are ineffectual since they have no idea what they are doing. Instead, a group of the best men are most likely to make good decisions. Darius concurs about avoiding majority rule, but says an oligarchy will devolve into a monarchy so why not just cut to the chase and start with that? The majority of the conspirators agree, which seems ironic that a popular vote was used to decide to install a monarchy.

I commented on how the group would choose their leader and the trick Darius used in order to win in my post on The Behistun Inscription. After Darius becomes king of Persia, he establishes the organization and order which will facilitate Persian expansion and domination. He developed the satrap (province) system and Herodotus details the districts and their required tributes. Short diversions on India and Arabia follow, highlighting once again the strangeness (to the Greeks) that occurs the further you travel from their home. Darius’ conquests follow, starting with a spying expedition to Greece (which fails) and then the defeat of Samos. Babylon, taken by Cyrus in Book One, rebels and prepares for an extended siege. Darius was able to recapture Babylon only by the pretend desertion of Zopyros, who mutilates himself in order for the Babylonians to believe him. After a few staged victories (involving the slaughter of Darius’ worst troops), Zopyros gains the full trust of the Babylonians and is able to betray them for a Persian victory.

Additional memorable characters and moments in Book Three:

Greek and Carian mercenaries, fighting for Egypt, resented Phanes fleeing to Persia. When the Persian army was within view of the Egyptian army the mercenaries slit the throats of Phanes’ two sons, who he had left behind in Egypt, and let them bleed into a bowl. After both had died, the soldiers added wine and water with the blood and drank the mixture in front of the Persians. It didn’t help—the Egyptians still lost.

Psammenitos, the leader when Egypt fell to Cambyses, is tested by the Persian ruler. Cambyses has Psammenitos sit in front of the Memphis city gate and parades the children of the town, including his own, in bondage before him. Psammenitos maintains his composure until one of his former drinking companions, an old man who had lost his property, can be seen begging for alms. When asked why he did not weep for his own family members but cries for an old beggar, Psammenitos replies

”Son of Cyrus, my family’s misfortunes were too horrible for me to weep over, but the grief of my friend was worthy of my tears. He has fallen from great prosperity into the life of a beggar, just as he arrives at the threshold of old age.”

Cambyses like the reply, as did Croesus (the same former-king from Book One) who is now advisor to Cambyses. This story fits in well with Solon’s advice to Croesus as well as the “human fortune never remains constant” theme.

When Cambyses wished to marry his sister he asked the royal judges if there was a law sanctioning such an act. The judges provide a delicate and diplomatic answer: “[T]hey said they had discovered no law that would sanction marriage between a man and his sister, but they had found another law stating that the king of Persia was permitted to do whatever he wanted.”

Herodotus parodies the famed laconic nature of the Spartans in one aside:

The Samians who had been driven into exile by Polykrates arrived in Sparta and stood before the ruling authorities. They made a speech whose length matched the extent of their needs. The Spartans responded that they had forgotten what was said at the beginning and did not understand what was said after that. After this reception the Samians stood up to speak again, but this time they brought a sack with them and said nothing except that the sack needed barley meal. The Spartans now answered that the “sack” was superfluous to their speech, but they did resolve to help them.

Siphnos provides another example of the changing fortune of cities and men. The Siphnians had become the wealthiest island because of their discovery of gold and silver. Ambassadors from Samos arrive on the island, asking for a loan. The Siphnians deny the request, only to be defeated and fall subject to the Samians. In addition to being an example of the changing fortune theme, they Siphnians provide another instance of an oracle not fully understood. They had been told when their prosperity would end but they fail to recognize the Samians’ red ships as the “wooden ambush, and a herald in red” that would appear at their defeat.

To Herodotus the natural world follows the same moral order as humans. It is possible for an animal’s strength to also be its downfall, it’s good fortune rapidly turning to destruction. Even though the following passage contains too many mistakes to note, it is interesting to see how it echoes the themes he has shown for people and cities:

[F]or divine providence in its wisdom created all creatures that are cowardly and that serve as food for others to reproduce in great numbers so as to assure that some would be left despite the constant consumption of them, while it has made sure that those animals which are brutal and aggressive predators reproduce very few offspring. … That is the sort of pregnancy the hare has, but the lioness, since she is the strongest and boldest of animals, gives birth to only one offspring in her entire life, for when she gives birth she expels her womb along with her young. This happens because when the lion cub starts to move inside its mother, it lacerates the womb with claws that are sharper than those of any other beast, and as it grows, its scratches penetrate deeper and deeper, so that near the time of birth there is nothing at all of the womb left intact.

Likewise, if vipers and the Arabian winged serpents were to live out their natural life spans, humans could not survive at all. What happens is that when they pair up and mount each other, and the male is in the very act of ejaculation, the female grasps hold of him by his neck and clings there, not letting him go until she has eaten clean through it. Thus the male dies, but the female pays a penalty for treating him this way; for the young in her womb exact vengeance for the male by eating through their mother, and thus leave the womb in birth only after completely devouring the womb.

Otanes, a Persian noble, suspects that the Magus Smerdis was not Cambyses brother so he hatches a plot with his daughter Phaidymie. She had been one of Cambyses’ wives but has been appropriated into Smerdis’ harem. Since all of the women have been dispersed to separate quarters and Phaidymie did not know what the brother Smerdis looked like, she was unable to know just who she was sleeping with. Otanes remembers that the Magus Smerdis had his ears cut off as a punishment by Cyrus and asks his daughter to feel for her Smerdis’ ears the next time it is her turn in the rotation to sleep with him. If he has ears, he is the son of Cyrus and the true king. If not, he is the imposter Otanes suspects. Phaidymie does as commanded despite the grave danger to herself if caught by the false Smerdis. She sends a message to her father that the man has no ears at all, prompting Otanes to organize the cabal of seven mentioned above in order to overthrow the false Smerdis.

After Darius ascended to the Persian throne, one of the conspirators (Intaphrenes) commits an outrageous act against Darius. The king has Intaphrenes arrested along with all his male relatives, condemning all of them to death. Intaphrenes’ wife pleads with Darius and he grants her one relative to save. Sounding like something straight out of a play by Sophocles, she chooses her brother. In reply to Darius’ question about her choice she replies

”Sire, I may have another husband and, god willing, other children, if I should lose the ones I have now. But since my mother and father are no longer alive, I could never have another brother. That was the reasoning behind my answer to you.”

Darius liked her answer enough to release her oldest son as well as her brother before killing the rest of the family. I have this wonderful image of Herodotus and Sophocles together, trying to figure how to work this story into either The Histories or a play.

Atossa, a daughter of Cyrus and one of Darius’ wives, falls ill and a Greek physician (Democedes) heals her. In return, he asks her to help him return home, something Darius had forbidden in order to keep the good doctor near him. Atossa goads Darius into attacking another country, both to build fame and keep his men too busy to conspire against him. She tells him the reason she chooses Greece--she desires Greek serving women. Darius reveals he has “formed a plan to build a bridge from this continent [Asia] to the other one [Europe] and to conduct a military campaign.” Book Four will reveal how this bridging of continents will turn out. So far we have seen Cyrus and Cambyses expanded Persian rule but still met with disaster (and in Cambyses’ case death) while far from home.

One theme that Herodotus explores throughout The Histories, which I have barely mentioned, revolves around the importance of customs and culture. That topic will have to wait for another post.

The Behistun Inscription

The inscription of Darius I, the Great on Mount Behistun
Picture source

From Livius.org:

In Antiquity, Bagastâna, which means 'place where the gods dwell', was the name of a village and a remarkable, isolated rock along the road that connected the capitals of Babylonia and Media, Babylon and Ecbatana (modern Hamadan). Many travellers passed along this place, so it was the logical place for the Persian king Darius I the Great (522-486) to proclaim his military victories.

The famous Behistun inscription was engraved on a cliff about 100 meters off the ground. Darius tells us how the supreme god Ahuramazda choose him to dethrone an usurper named Gaumâta, how he set out to quell several revolts, and how he defeated his foreign enemies.

The large relief and text (in three languages—Persian, Babylonian, and Elamite) confirms part of Herodotus' story of Darius' ascension to the Persian throne in Book Three of The Histories.

Not included in the inscription are the events after the cabal of seven Persians overthrew the usurper Gaumâta. Herodotus details the constitutional discussion (more than likely invented—I’ll include more on that in the Book Three discussion) and the alleged trick Darius used to assume the throne. A summary of Book Three's paragraphs 84 through 86: six of the seven Persians agree that at sunrise they will meet outside the city and the owner of the horse that makes the first sound will be king. Darius asked his groom, Oibares, to do what he could to insure his horse would be the first to make a sound. That night, Oibares takes Darius’ horse to the spot the men will meet the next day and a mare is provided for the stallion to mate. The next morning, as Darius approaches that same spot, his horse gallops up to it and whinnies. Even though Darius had accomplished this with a trick, lightning appeared and thunder clapped , apparently a sign of agreement of his ascension from the gods. (An alternate version has Oibares coating his arm with a mare’s secretions and then passing it under the stallion’s nose when they reach the spot.)

Far from hiding his stratagem,

The first thing he did was to set up a stone and have a relief carved on it in which was depicted a man on horseback with an inscription which said, Darius son of Hystapes acquired possesion of the kingship of the Persians by the merit of his horse [and here he placed the name of the horse] and of his groom Oibares." (from paragraph 88)

Back to the Behistun Inscription...more can be found at Livius.org or at Wikipedia, including other historical monuments at the site. The misinterpretations of the engravings are humorous as well, whether assuming it represents the ten tribes of Israel or Christ and the disciples.

The tunnel of Samos

I have given a rather lengthy account of the Samians because they achieved the three greatest engineering works of all the Hellenes. First, they dug a tunnel through a 900-foot-high mountain; it is 4,080 feet long and 8 feet high and wide. Another channel, 30 feet deep and 3 feet wide, was dug along the entire length of the tunnel, into which water is sent through pipes directly into the city of Samos from a huge spring. The builder in charge of designing and excavating this tunnel was a Megarian, Eupalinos son of Naustrophos.

(from The Histories by Herodotus, 3.60, translated by Andrea L. Purvis)

There are several online articles about this remarkable achievement and the more I read about it the more fascinated I am. For those so inclined, I highly recommend Tom Apostol's article The Tunnel of Samos which delves into the mathematical problems that had to be solved in order to dig from opposite ends of the mountain.

Dan Hughes' article The Tunnel of Eupalinos (with an appendix by Hans J. Keller) has plenty of pictures of a walk through the tunnel.

Michael Lahanas, at his Hellenic World encyclopeida has plenty more references for those interested.

Great pictures and more detail can be found at this page by Torben Bolhøj.

The Histories discussion: Book Two

Map of ancient Egypt
Picture source

After the Persian king Cyrus dies and before the narrative follows Cambyses’ reign, Herodotus pauses and relays his inquiries and research on Egypt. While still wealthy, Egypt had declined markedly over the previous few centuries. Despite the decline, the wonders and achievements he sees in that land provide material for an entire section: “[T]his country has more marvels and monuments that defy description than any other.” (All translations by Andrea L. Purvis. I will also use her spelling of proper names.) This harkens back to his opening statement in addition to providing an example of the downfall of greatness (“human prosperity never remains constant”). While Herodotus does not explicitly point out the Egyptian decline in this book, he is setting the stage for the Persian conquest in the next. Between the lines, however, lies an implication that Egypt’s greatness lies in the past and its power has waned.

In his view of the world, Herodotus assumes a certain symmetry in the world although the further you travel from the center (Greece) the stranger things get. In looking at Egyptians, he sees traits that are both similar and opposite to Greek customs. Herodotus respects the Egyptians because of their status as an older civilization and assumes that knowledge and customs can flow only in one direction, from the older civilization (Egypt) to the younger (Greece). This assumption is most apparent in his discussions on religion but it causes certain tensions that he never resolves.

The Egyptian priests list all of their leaders, back 341 generations, for Herodotus and drop the tidbit that in the 11,000+ years of their reigns no god had appeared in human form to the Egyptians. Herodotus mentions Hekataois’ visit with the priests and that author’s ability to trace his linage for 16 generations back to a god, which puts the difference between Egyptian and Greek beliefs front and center. But Herodotus shrugs off the difference, saying “One may espouse either of these views.” But the difference has important implications, and if one believes the Egyptians then the heroic age as told in Greek epics would be called into question. Herodotus shrugs the difference off, saying he has already relayed his belief. In an earlier discussion on Herakles, Herodotus seems to say that the Greeks applied the name of an Egyptian god to a Greek hero, so his reconciliation appears to assume a conflation of ancient gods and more “recent” heroes.

Herodotus’ investigation into what really happened to Helen of Troy provides insight into his investigative methods as well as his assumptions and biases (as well as a nice counterpoint to my recent read of The Lost Books of the Odyssey by Zachary Mason). Herodotus can be dismissive of Greek tradition, labeling stories such as Herakles’ visit to Egypt as foolish. I found it interesting that, while respecting the gods, Herodotus can be so contemptuous of Homer, judging some areas of his stories as poetic license or inventions. Herodotus then presents the Egyptian priests version of what happened during the Trojan War. They claimed that Alexandros and Helen stopped in Egypt but local leaders looked unkindly on the abduction and theft. The Egyptian leaders demanded Alexandros/Paris leave Helen and the stolen treasure which they would safeguard for Menelaos. The Trojan War begins but, in answer to Greek demands for Helen, the Trojans claim she is not in the city. The Greeks continue the war, not believing this response, and Troy falls as a punishment from the gods. Menelaos, on not finding Helen in the ruined city, travels to Egypt and finds his wife.

As with other competing stories, Herodotus tries to reconcile differing versions as well as look for a logical conclusion. He assumes the Greek epics reflect pieces of the Egyptian version with embellishments for storytelling purposes. In the conclusion, his historical evaluation reads like a literary criticism (paragraph 120):

This is what the Egyptian priests said, and I agree with their argument, considering if Helen had been in Troy, the Trojans would have certainly returned her to the Hellenes, whether Alexandros concurred or not. For neither Priam nor his kin could have been so demented that they would have willingly endangered their own persons, their children, and their city just so that Alexandros could have Helen. Surely the Trojans would have realized this even in the first years of the war and would have given her up. After all, many Trojans were being killed whenever they joined combat with the Greeks, and the sons of Priam himself were dying in every battle, two or three at a time, and sometimes even more. And I believe—if the verses themselves can be used as evidence—that even if Priam himself had been living with Helen, he would have certainly returned her to the Achaeans in order to bring their troubles to an end. In fact, since the kingship was not even going to devolve upon Alexandros, he could not have hoped to control matters in Priam’s old age. It was Hector, both older and more of a man than Alexandros, who was to inherit the crown when Priam died, and he would never have entrusted affairs of state to a brother who committed injustices, and especially not if doing so were to bring great evils upon himself and on all the Trojans. And so it is clear that they did not have Helen and therefore could not give her back; and that when they said this to the Hellenes, they were telling the truth; but the Hellenes did not believe them. This all took place—and here I am declaring my own opinion—because a divine force arranged matters so that the Trojans, by their total ruin and destruction, would clearly demonstrate to all humans the fundamental truth that when great injustices are committed, retribution from the gods is also great. That, at least, is what I think.

Herodotus also mentions what the priests said about Menelaos’ affront while in Egypt, sacrificing two Egyptian children in order to get a fair wind home. While this sounds like an Egyptian adaption of Greek epic, Herodotus assumes that Homer’s version reflects the ‘original’ Egyptian version of the story.

The story of Mykerinos provides another example of Herodotus' assumption of man's inability to escape from fate. Mykerinos’ father and uncle had ruled Egypt for 106 years, bringing suffering to the Egyptians as they abused their subjects and disrespected the gods. Mykerinos changed things, opening sanctuaries and not working his subjects to death. After several personal losses, Mykerinos consults an oracle who tells him his life will end in six years because he is behaving contrary to the fate assigned to Egypt. His father and uncle understood that Egypt was destined to suffer for 150 years and played their part accordingly. Mykerinos, on the other hand, has not behaved appropriately. Believing he is already condemned, Mykerinos attempts to subvert the gods the only way he believes possible, immersing himself in debauchery day and night in order to make his remaining six years feel like twelve. (Yet another Sophoclean take on attempts to subvert fate leading directly to the decreed outcome) Herodotus’ look at Egypt stops with the reign of Amasis since this sets the stage for Cambysis’ invasion of Egypt.

The Landmark Herodotus includes an appendix evaluating Herodotus’ account of Egypt. Written by Alan B. Lloyd of the University of Wales’ Department of Classics, Ancient History, and Egyptology, his conclusion provides a concise judgment of this section:

Herodotus’ account of Egypt is the oldest and longest classical discussion of the subject to have survived from any source, but we must never forget that it is written to a Greek agenda and for a Greek audience. It therefore inevitably reflects Greek experience, interests, and preoccupations, and there is no attempt whatsoever to present an objective description of what was there or of the country’s historical evolution. … Nevertheless, his account contains rich nuggets of information on both Egyptian history and culture, and it has, in particular, an enormous value as the record of the reaction of a European to the culture of pharaonic Egypt when that culture was still a going concern, and if its agendas are borne firmly in mind, his account is still capable of yielding much of value to the discriminating reader.

Map of the World as viewed by Herodotus
Picture source

An Olympic victory of his own

"Herodotus sometimes writes for children and sometimes for philosophers”
- Edward Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire


Herodotus has generated responses, positive and negative, over the years. Here is the opening of “Herodotus” by Lucian of Samosata (translated by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler):

I devoutly wish that Herodotus's other characteristics were imitable; not all of them, of course--that is past praying for--, but any one of them: the agreeable style, the constructive skill, the native charm of his Ionic, the sententious wealth, or any of a thousand beauties which he combined into one whole, to the despair of imitators. But there is one thing--the use he made of his writings, and the speed with which he attained the respect of all Greece; from that you, or I, or any one else, might take a hint. As soon as he had sailed from his Carian home for Greece, he concentrated his thoughts on the quickest and easiest method of winning a brilliant reputation for himself and his works. He might have gone the round, and read them successively at Athens, Corinth, Argos, and Sparta; but that would be a long toilsome business, he thought, with no end to it; so he would not do it in detail, collecting his recognition by degrees, and scraping it together little by little; his idea was, if possible, to catch all Greece together. The great Olympic Games were at hand, and Herodotus bethought him that here was the very occasion on which his heart was set. He seized the moment when the gathering was at its fullest, and every city had sent the flower of its citizens; then he appeared in the temple hall, bent not on sight-seeing, but on bidding for an Olympic victory of his own; he recited his Histories, and bewitched his hearers; nothing would do but each book must be named after one of the Muses, to whose number they corresponded.

The Histories discussion: Book One

Candaules, King of Lydia, Shews his Wife by Stealth to Gyges, One of his Ministers, as She Goes to Bed
by William Etty 1787-1849
Picture source

Herodotus of Halicarnassus here presents his research so that human events do not fade with time. May the great and wonderful deeds—some brought forth by the Hellenes, others by the barbarians—not go unsung; as well as the causes that led them to make war on each other.
- 1. Proem (all translations by Andrea L. Purvis)

Thus begins Herodotus inquiries or research into “great and wonderful deeds” by the Greeks and others, leading to the wars between Persia and the Greek city-states. The opening sounds similar to Homer (especially the reference to a-klea or lack of fame going unsung—kleos was a major theme in The Illiad and The Odyssey), but instead of calling a Muse to sing through him Herodotus tells us he will present his research. Herodotus promises to start from the beginning of the conflict between races and he does so over the next few paragraphs, outlining the abductions of Io, Europa, Medea, and Helen of Troy, although these summaries make these legends almost unrecognizable. After the quick summaries of ‘historical’ conflicts, Herodotus abruptly changes gears and informs the reader what his approach will be, zeroing in on one of the major themes of his inquiries:

These are the stories told by the Persians and Phoenicians. I myself have no intention of affirming that these events occurred thus or otherwise. But I do know who was the first man to begin unjust acts against the Hellenes. I shall describe him and then proceed with the rest of my story recounting cities both lesser and greater, since many of those that were great long ago have become inferior, and some that are great in my own time were inferior before. And so, resting on my knowledge that human prosperity never remains constant, I shall make mention of both without discrimination.
- 1.5 [3] and [4]

The first half of The Histories lays the groundwork for the wars between Persia and Greece (490 and 480/79 B.C.), with seemingly endless digressions on his way to culminate in his point that “prosperity never remains constant". It’s clear I don’t have a classicist’s educational background so I am not going to claim exactly what Herodotus meant in my interpretations, but I hope to relay how enjoyable his history is while helping provide some framework for a first-time reader to enjoy it.

There is a dual nature to The Histories in which Herodotus shows he has benefited from the Ionian enlightenment but continues to be shaped by Homeric epic and Greek tragedy. His reliance on what he has seen and heard, while seeming credulous at times, emphasizes wanting to use his senses and his reason to piece together what has happened. At the same time, some debts to the epic form appear straightforward such as the quote above from 1.5 which echoes part of the opening lines from The Odyssey. In addition, some of the stories he presents as the most likely option he has heard will sound like something straight out of Sophocles.

The first chapter can seem overwhelming on first reading (or at least it did to me on my first time through), but hopefully an overview can assist in seeing the structure of Herodotus’ presentation. During the first book Herodotus shows two rising powers in Asia coming into conflict, Lydia and Persia. Former powers such as Egypt (shown briefly) and Babylon wane, highlighting that changing fortune affects empires as well as individuals. In the meantime, Hellene city-states are growing in power. Sparta, in particular, is called upon to assist in the conflicts against Persia. The first half of Book One revolves around the rise of Croesus and his defeat by Cyrus. The second half of Book One focuses mostly on Cyrus, his rise and ultimate fall.

It is easy to read The Histories cynically and laugh at the impossibilities or exaggerations Herodotus describes. To do so misses out on his allure and charm as well as minimizing the task he sets for himself. Beyond the fictional accounts and folk tales lies a struggle and search for explanations on what has happened in the past and to take lessons from those experiences. Herodotus looks to assign reasons for events tied to personal decisions and actions while not completely ruling out actions from the gods or fate. Herodotus also tries to fit natural events into a methodology which, for the most part, lies outside of Greek mythology. His "history" in Book One lies several generations back so he is at the mercy of what he hears. Maybe less appreciated is his struggle to find a vocabulary and framework to transform that oral history into his written inquiry. Stories he finds most plausible strike us as fanciful but make sense in the context of the myth and tradition surrounding him.

While the conflict between Greece and Persia is the main theme of The Histories, there are several supporting themes that surface in the first Book. Taking some time to look at them should prove useful to a first time reader. As mentioned above, Herodotus presents the theme that “human prosperity never remains constant” very early and the reader will see that this applies to specific men, cities, or empires and even within nature itself. In the first book we see the rise and fall of Croesus and Cyrus, both victims of several other themes within The Histories described below.

One theme revolves around geographic borders and their inviolability. At some point The Histories comes across as a story of failed invasions, many of which occur outside a leader's home continent. Herodotus explicitly marks the sacred nature of geography in 1.174 when the Cnidians, trying to protect themselves from Cyrus’ army, attempt to turn their peninsula into an island by digging through the strip of land connecting them to the mainland. The oracle responds to their question about the many injuries during this project with “Had Zeus wished it to be an island, he would have made it thus himself.” Ultimately the strength of an empire can lead to its downfall as it tries to expand into areas viewed as exceeding an allowable range. The borders between what Herodotus calls Europe, Asia, and Africa are more than symbols—they represent the boundary beyond which a native people should not expand. Cyrus, in his war against the Massagetae, crosses out of Asia and is defeated. In addition to providing an important theme, some of the most humorous moments in The Histories occur when leaders attempt to tame or punish natural phenomena such as rivers.

One interesting theme (for me) revolves around man’s inability to escape fate. Throughout The Iliad and The Odyssey we see the gods grapple with fate. Zeus knows he could intervene to save his son Sarpedon in battle but heeds the warning of Hera about the precedent he would be setting for the other gods. Poseidon knows he cannot keep Odysseus from returning home but he does his best to make the return as difficult as possible. While the gods never physically appear in The Histories, they make themselves felt through dreams and oracles. Early in the first book we learn that Croesus was fated to fall because of his ancestor Gyges’ offense. Yet Croesus makes his two downfalls, losing his son and his empire, happen in the form of a Greek tragedy through his hamartia, that is his errors in judgment. Croesus misinterprets his dream regarding his son’s death as well as the oracles surrounding war with Persia, limiting his interpretations to what he wants to see or have happen instead of looking deeper into their meaning. The oracle chides him on his multiple misinterpretations but reveals an interesting fact—Apollo deferred or delayed Croesus’ fall “as much as the Fates would concede”, which was three years. “Fated destiny is impossible to avoid even for a god” the oracle acknowledges, which obviously makes for interesting tragedies. Cyrus’ misinterpretation of his dream about a successor does not cause his death, but like most Greek tragedies it does insure that the dream will come true.

A theme sounded throughout the book, yet one that Herodotus doesn’t pull together (at least as I remember) until the closing lines of the book, finds its summary as follows: “[S]oft places tend to produce soft men; for the same land cannot yield both wonderful crops and men who are noble and courageous in war.” (9.121[3]) We see several hints and direct allusions to this theme within Book One. Croesus receives advice from Sandanis regarding the Cappadocians, who he is about to invade, which focuses on what he can take from a people who have little. What power does the victor wield when those defeated had little to start with and will not feel deprived? Sandanis mentions where the Persians stood at this point in comparison to those lacking “luxuries and good things”. (1.71) One of Herodotus’ initial descriptions of Persian customs emphasizes how they differ from the Hellenes, focusing on how the Persians eat and drink more than the Greeks and seem a 'softer' people. (1.133) Croesus advises Cyrus, in order to tame the Lydians, to introduce customs that would be viewed as softening them, insuring their submission for the long term. (1.155) Croesus’ final advice to Cyrus involves taking advantage of the Massagetai by providing them with plenty of food and wine, providing luxuries that they would abuse and 'soften' their resistance. (1.207) Herodotus makes clear in these asides and in other descriptions that the Persians have become rich and soft because of the available resources.

Book One has many memorable characters and events. Gyges, Croesus, Solon, Cyrus, and Harpagos (just to name a few) will stick with the reader long after The Histories is finished. Those that have read or seen The English Patient will remember the story of Kandaules (the king of Lydia), a man “in love with his own wife” who wanted to prove her beauty to his bodyguard Gyges. Upon seeing Gyges slip out of her room, the queen confronts Kandaules with the shame he has caused and gives him a choice: either kill Kandaules and become the king or be killed. Herodotus drily notes that Gyges decides he would rather survive, providing the curse that would claim Croesus four generations later.

Much of these characters' history sounds like folk legend, providing Herodotus a vehicle to shape his story and provide the messages he wants to advance. Although Herodotus says he knows of three additional stories surrounding the birth of Cyrus, he refrains from telling them, choosing to relay the one he says seems most plausible. By this point it seems no coincidence that Cyrus' story sounds like something from myth or a tragedy.

I hope to flesh out some of the points introduced here as I go through the remaining eight books. It will be slow going, but I'm enjoying the book again too much to rush through it.

Croesus on the Funeral Pyre
Picture source

The Histories online resources

(I expect this post to be updated as I find more helpful links—there are more resources on the web for this work than I thought possible.)

For someone that loved books, my reading habits have always been very random and I realized I could not remember important details of works I read. Understanding that I read a book differently knowing I was going to write about it, I began keeping notes on what I read. Longer write-ups soon followed for two reasons: a) If I was going to read a work only once I wanted to get everything I could out of that one reading, and b) if I revisited a book I wanted to compare and contrast what I thought of it to my previous reading. That’s basically the background and direction I have been trying to take this blog—it's solely for me, but if anyone else finds it useful then so much the better.

A quirk about one reading habit that I’ve mentioned already is my tendency to associate a work with where I was when I read memorable parts. So that is the long lead-in to say The Histories represents a re-read for me. I first read it during the summer of 2004. The part of the book that stands out in my mind was finishing an entire section one afternoon in an eastern Sierra Mountains inn while my oldest boy (then about 9 months old) napped. It was an epic nap, probably due to crawling around and exploring new places. I did have a brief introduction to Herodotus during my junior year in high school. I took a library copy of The Histories to that year’s graduation so I would have something to read during the commencement address but nothing ‘stuck’ and I didn’t bother to read more after that night.

The version I read was Penguins Classics with translation by Aubery de Selincourt and I was surprised how much I enjoyed the book without any background knowledge. For this reading, I’m going with the Landmark Herodotus (translation by Andrea L. Purvis) that my wife gave me as a present. I hope there are many more works coming in the Landmark series. That being said, there have been issues raised about the translations, or so I’ve read, used in the first two volumes—my knowledge of Greek is limited to scanning my brother’s college textbook (photo at the bottom of this post). You would think translation issues would be a fatal flaw but the layout and additional content are wonderful and tailor-made for a geek like me.

I am surprised by how many online resources there are for Herodotus and The Histories but I’ll initially limit how much I include here. As I find helpful or interesting links I will add them to the list.


Herodotus on the Web might be the only link you need for help in reading The Histories. There are links to overviews, articles, images, Greek history, and so much more. Unfortunately some of the links are dead, but it is still a well done and impressive resource.

The Online Books Page provides a list of online texts of all or part of The Histories.

LibriVox has The Histories in downloadable audio format. The translation appears to be by A. D. Godley.

Jona Lendering’s Herodotus of Halicarnassus page has an eight-piece article on the writer in addition to a summary and commentary on each of the 28 logoi of The Histories

Wikipedia’s page for The Histories highlights the major storylines in each book, providing links to names, events, and places

Parallel English/Greek texts can be viewed side by side (using the G.C. Maculay translation) at Sacred Texts

Paul Rahe reviews The Landmark Herodotus in The Claremont Institute (in addition to other commentaries)

Articles linked at History of the Ancient World about Herodotus

Update (29 Dec 2010): I just found this interview with Robert Strassler, editor of the Landmark series, shortly after The Landmark Herodotus was released.

Update (24 Jan 2011): The Marathon2500 Project--"Commemorating the 2,500-year anniversary of The Battle of Marathon. Free phone/web-based lectures, reading groups & more".

Update (17 Feb 2011): Reviews and links for any of the Landmark Series books can be found here.

Update (9 Nov 2012): Robert B. Strassler again, this time on The Landmark Herodotus and The Landmark Xenophon at the New York Society Library on Wednesday, November 11, 2009:
The NYSL page
The YouTube video

Update (23 Feb 2013): see my post on the Herodotus Project, another source for the text, photos, and more links.