§3. When Phaedra sees Hippolytus for the very first time in the narrative of Pausanias 2.32.3, as I noted in the posting for 2018.06.21, she is already falling in love with the youthful hero. In that posting, I was worrying about the translation ‘fall in love’ for erân/erâsthai in the “present” or imperfective aspect of the relevant verb used by Pausanias—and for erasthênai in its aorist aspect, as he uses it elsewhere. In the present posting, 2018.08.03, I still worry about that translation—and I continue to prefer the wording ‘conceive an erotic passion’ as a more accurate way to capture the moment—but now I worry more about the actual moment of erotic passion in Pausanias 2.32.3. As we will see, that moment is really a recurrence of moments. The storytelling of Pausanias points to an untold number of moments for experiencing the erotic passion—as expressed by the “present” or imperfective aspect of the verb, erân, and by the imperfect tense of the verb apo-blepein ‘gaze away, look off into the distance’. Further, there is a divine force that presides over all these moments, embodied in the sacralized role of Aphrodite as the kataskopiā, ‘the one who is looking down from on high’. §4. Here is the relevant passage in Pausanias, where our traveler speaks of the enclosure containing the space that is sacred to both Hippolytus and Phaedra as cult heroes: {2.32.3} In the other part of the enclosure [peribolos] is a racecourse [stadion] named after Hippolytus, and looming over it is a shrine [nāos] of Aphrodite [invoked by way of the epithet] kataskopiā [‘looking down from the heights’]. Here is the reason [for the epithet]: it was at this very spot, whenever Hippolytus was exercising-naked [gumnazesthai], that she, Phaedra, feeling-an-erotic-passion-for [erân] him, used-to-gaze-away [imperfect of apo-blepein] at him from above. A myrtle bush [mursinē] still grows here, and its leaves—as I wrote at an earlier point [= 1.22.2]—have holes pricked into them. Whenever Phaedra was-feeling-there-was-no-way-out [aporeîn] and could find no relief for her erotic-passion [erōs], she would take it out on the leaves of this myrtle bush, wantonly injuring them. {2.32.4} There is also a tomb [taphos] of Phaedra, not far from the tomb [mnēma] of Hippolytus, and it [= the mnēma] is heaped-up-as-a-tumulus [kekhōstai] near the myrtle bush [mursinē]. The statue [agalma] of Asklepios was made by Timotheus, but the people of Troizen say that it is not Asklepios, but a likeness [eikōn] of Hippolytus. Also, when I saw the House [oikiā] of Hippolytus, I knew that it was his abode. In front of it is situated what they call the Fountain [krēnē] of Hēraklēs, since Hēraklēs, as the people of Troizen say, discovered the water. §5. Before further comment on Pausanias 2.32.3, I note a detail in my translation of 2.32.4. I take it that Pausanias here is guardedly indicating that he saw the tomb of Hippolytus himself, situated next to the tomb of Phaedra. Our traveler is guarded because, as he said earlier at 2.32.1 about the hero cult of Hippolytus, the people of Troizen ‘do not show [apophainein] his tomb [taphos], though they know where it is’. In the wording of Pausanias, oikiā ‘house’ can refer to the ‘abode’ of a cult hero, that is, to his tomb. And he ostentatiously uses this word here at 2.32.4. A telling parallel is the wording at Pausanias 2.23.2, where he refers to the tomb of the cult hero Adrastos as an oikiā while he calls the nearby tomb of Amphiaraos simply a hieron ‘sanctuary’—and while, even more simply, he refers to the nearby tomb of Eriphyle, wife of Amphiaraos, as a mnēma, the literal meaning of which is ‘memorial marker’. This same word mnēma is used by Pausanias here at 2.32.4 with reference to the tomb of Hippolytus. Other examples where oikiā refers to tombs of cult heroes include 2.36.8, 5.14.7, 5.20.6, 9.11.1. 9.12.3. 9.16.5. 9.16.7. §6. Returning to Pausanias 2.32.3, I conclude by arguing that the role of the goddess Aphrodite in the visualization of Phaedra’s recurrent erotic passion complements the role of the goddess Artemis in a visualization that we saw being brought to life in the poetry of Euripides. Whereas the role of Aphrodite is to be always available as the agent of erotic desire, the corresponding role of Artemis is to maintain her eternal unavailability as the object of that desire. Always unavailable, Artemis thus becomes the very picture of what is erotically desirable.
In the narratives, Hippolytus is depicted as a paragon of chastity and self-discipline, qualities that define his heroism within the cultural context of ancient Greece. His rejection of Phaedra's advances is rooted in his dedication to the goddess Artemis and his adherence to a code of moral purity. This portrayal aligns with the ideal of the male hero as one who resists temptation and remains steadfast in his principles, even at the cost of his own life. Phaedra, on the other hand, embodies the complexities of female desire within a patriarchal society. In Euripides' Hippolytus, her passion for Hippolytus is portrayed as an uncontrollable force that ultimately leads to her destruction and the downfall of Hippolytus. Her role as a woman who transgresses the boundaries of acceptable female behavior highlights the dangers of unchecked female desire, reinforcing the cultural belief that women’s emotions must be controlled and contained. The tragedy of Phaedra is not just her unfulfilled love but also the societal constraints that define her actions as inherently destructive. Pausanias' reference to the myth of Phaedra and Hippolytus, as discussed in the source, offers a more subdued version of the narrative, focusing less on the psychological torment of Phaedra and more on the broader mythological context. This difference in emphasis reflects varying cultural attitudes towards gender and heroism. While Euripides explores the inner turmoil of his characters, highlighting the destructive power of female desire, Pausanias presents a more neutral account, possibly influenced by the historical and cultural lens through which he viewed the myth. When comparing the versions of the Phaedra and Hippolytus story in Euripides and Pausanias, it is evident that Euripides' version is more focused on the emotional and psychological aspects of the characters, particularly Phaedra. Euripides' portrayal of Phaedra’s inner conflict and her ultimate decision to falsely accuse Hippolytus after he rejects her advances emphasizes the tragic consequences of her unbridled passion. In contrast, Pausanias’ version is less concerned with the emotional depth of the characters and more with the events themselves, reflecting a different approach to the narrative that is more aligned with the recording of history and myth rather than the exploration of character psychology. This difference in focus can be attributed to the cultural and political contexts in which these works were created. Euripides, writing in a period of Athenian democracy, was likely influenced by the social and philosophical debates of his time, including those related to gender and the role of women in society. Pausanias, writing in a later period, may have been more influenced by the desire to preserve and record myths as part of the cultural heritage, leading to a more straightforward recounting of the story. Comparison Between Individual Works: When comparing the story of Phaedra and Hippolytus with other similar narratives, such as the story of Joseph, we see a recurring theme of male chastity and female desire. In both stories, the male hero is depicted as morally superior, resisting the advances of a woman who is driven by passion. This resistance enhances the hero’s status as a figure of virtue and integrity, while the woman’s desire is portrayed as dangerous and destructive. However, there are also significant differences: In the story of Joseph, his refusal leads to his imprisonment, but he is ultimately vindicated and rises to a position of power. In contrast, Hippolytus’ rejection of Phaedra leads to his death, underscoring the tragic nature of Greek heroism, where even the most virtuous are not immune to the whims of fate. Lastly, Euripides' language is rich in emotional intensity, capturing the turmoil and despair that drive the characters to their tragic ends. Phaedra’s monologues, in particular, offer insight into her conflicting emotions, torn between her illicit love for Hippolytus and her sense of duty and shame. I find Pausanias’ account is more straightforward and less emotionally charged. His language is more descriptive and factual, focusing on the sequence of events rather than the inner lives of the characters. This difference in linguistic style reflects the different purposes of the texts: Euripides’ play is a work of drama intended to evoke strong emotions and provoke thought, while Pausanias’ account is more concerned with documenting the myth for posterity. To critique, however, Euripides’ use of emotionally charged language and complex character interactions can be seen as a reflection of the intellectual and cultural climate of classical Athens, where issues of gender, morality, and human nature were hotly debated. Pausanias’ more restrained language, on the other hand, reflects his role as a chronicler of myths, where the emphasis is on preservation rather than interpretation. CC BY Aarushi Attray (contact)