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| V. | Functions |
In common with most other mythological traditions, Greek myths served several readily identifiable functions. First, Greek myths were explanatory. They lent structure and order to the world, and showed how the current state of things had originated. Thus Hesiod’s Theogony narrated the development of the present ordering of the universe by relating it to Chaos, the origin of all things. By a complex process of violence, struggle, and sexual attraction, the regime contemporary to Zeus had eventually come into being. Another poem by Hesiod, “Works and Days”, gave an explanatory (or aetiological) account of why the world is full of trouble. The reason is that the first woman, Pandora, opened a jar whose lid she had been forbidden to lift; all the diseases and miseries previously confined in the jar escaped into the world. Such a myth also made an implicit statement about gender-relationships within Hesiod’s own world: the largely male audience for which (it is thought) he composed was evidently receptive to a tale that put women at the root of all evil.
One of the commonest types of explanation given in myths related to ritual. Myths helped worshippers to make sense of a religious practice by telling how it originated. A prime example was the supposed origin of sacrifice. This ritual involved the killing of a domesticated animal, in a ceremony that culminated in the butchering, cooking, and sharing of the meat of the victim. Hesiod recounts the aetiological myth associated with this rite. According to this myth, the tricky Titan Prometheus tried to outwit Zeus, by offering him a cunningly devised choice of meals: either an apparently unappetizing dish (an ox paunch—but with the tastiest meat concealed within) or a seemingly delicious one (gleaming fat on the outside—but with nothing but bones hidden beneath). Zeus chose the second dish, and ever since human beings have kept the tastiest part of every sacrifice for themselves, leaving the gods nothing but the savour of the rising smoke.
Myths were also vehicles of exploration. They charted paths through difficult territory, examining contradictions and ambiguities. For instance, Homer’s Iliad explores the consequences of the decision by the Greek leader Agamemnon to deprive another Greek warrior, Achilles, of his allotted prize (a slave-girl). Achilles feels that his honour or worth has been infringed; but how far ought he to go in his reaction? Is he right to refuse to fight, even if that means the destruction of the Greek army? Is he justified in rejecting the offer of compensation which Agamemnon makes to him? One of this epic’s themes is an exploration, through the medium of myth-telling, of the limits of honour.
The clearest example of mythical explanation is to be found in the narrative genre developed in 5th-century Athens: tragedy (see Greek Literature; Drama and Dramatic Arts). Athenian tragedies explored social questions by locating them, in extreme and exaggerated form, in a mythical context. Sophocles’ tragic play Antigone concerns just such an extreme situation. Two brothers have killed each other in battle, one (Eteocles) defending his homeland, the other (Polynices) attacking it. Their sister Antigone, in defiance of an edict by the city’s ruler, attempts to bury her ostensibly traitorous brother Polynices. Is she justified? Which should prevail, the religious obligation (especially on female kin) to tend and bury a corpse, or the city’s well-being? In fact, the moral issues involved are far from clear-cut, as would be expected from a work whose subtlety and profundity have so often been admired.
Myths also had the function of legitimation. If a claim, an action, or a relationship could be seen to have a mythical precedent, it thereby acquired extra authority. Aristocratic Greek families liked to trace their ancestry back to the heroes or gods of mythology; there is ample evidence for this in the songs of the poet Pindar (early 5th century bc), who used to praise the exploits of contemporary victors in the Olympian Games by linking them with the deeds of their mythical ancestors. Again, if a city could argue that it had had an alliance with another city in the mythological past, such a memory might help to cement contemporary bonds between two city-states.
Last but not least, myth-telling was felt to be a source of enjoyment and entertainment. Homer’s epics contain several descriptions of audiences held spellbound by the songs of bards, and it is known that real-life recitations of Homer attracted audiences. Public performances of tragic drama were also hugely popular, regularly drawing some 15,000 spectators.