The Sound of Music

 

  The Sound of Music

In the always popular musical hit from 1994, Julie Andrews sings in the title song, “The hills are alive with the sound of music.” For Homer’s epics from more or less 2500 years before, we would have to change the words to “The halls are alive…” Homer’s works echo with the sound of music and we know that the Iliad and the Odyssey were actually were sung in the palace halls of ancient Greece and not recited. They were presented by a minstrel or bard who most often accompanied himself with a lyre. Homer’s initial invocation to the Muse provides us clear evidence of the fact these were sung narratives based on a long oral tradition. In fact, the word ‘Iliad’ means song of Ilion.

Let wrath be your song O Goddess! Sing of the accursed rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, which brought untold woes to the Achaeans and banished to Hades many stalwart souls of heroes, turning them into carrion for dogs and birds of prey, thereby bringing to final fulfillment the plan of Zeus. Begin your song, O Muse, at that first sign of strife between the son of Atreus, lord of men, and the divine Achilles.

The Odyssey begins in a similar manner with the words, Sing to me Muse of that man of many ins and outs who traveled far and wide after he had sacked the lofty citadel of Troy.

            As Cam Rea succinctly points out for us in a 2001 article in Ancient Origins,

Early Greek historians were primarily bards. Bards were unique professional storytellers, who compartmentalized and composed poetic songs of stories through the oral transference. The duty or art of the bard was to tell stories of various events, whether small or epic, as in the case of the Iliad or Odyssey. These bards would travel from town-to-town, entertaining people with primordial tales about the struggle between men and gods. The bard would train a younger person in the stories he was taught as a young man and thus the story lived on through generations of bards, for the bard was a walking history book seeking an audience interested in being entertained by the stories of yesteryear.

            The bard sang about the deeds of gods and men, sometimes as the storyteller of things that happened in the long distant past, and sometimes recounting more recent events, like a modern newscaster reporting the daily news. In an exchange between Telemachus and his mother Penelope in their palace at Ithaca, we learn how the stories sung by the bard Phemius affected those who were listening carefully to tales about the Achaeans and their tribulations at Troy and their journey home.

After the suitors had had their fill of food and drink, their desires turned in other directions, to dancing and to singing which are the highlights of any feast. A herald placed a very beautiful lyre into the hands of Phemius who was compelled to sing among the suitors and he played lovely music for them.

The famous minstrel was singing for them and they sat in silence listening. He sang about the mournful homecoming of the Achaeans from Troy, that Pallas Athena had prescribed for them.

Shedding tears, Penelope spoke to the godlike minstrel. “Phemius, you know many things that are charming to mortals, the deeds of men and gods that you make famous in song. Sing about one of these as you sit here and let them drink their wine in silence. Cease this baneful song for it distresses my dear heart and above all other women it brings me sorrows that cannot be forgotten. It reminds me so much of that dear head, my husband, whose fame is so well known in Hellas and throughout the middle of Argos.”

Then the wise Telemachus answered her back. “Mother dear, why do you bear ill-will towards the minstrel who wishes to sing in whatever way his spirit moves him? It is not the minstrel who is to blame but Zeus who is to blame, he who fetters men who are wage earners, to each one as he pleases. You cannot be angry with this man if he sings about the dreaded fate of the Danaans, for men praise to the highest those songs that are newest to their hearing.”

“Suitors of my mother, you bear overwhelming insolence. For now, let us gladden ourselves with feasting and abandon this clamour for it is a good thing to listen to the song of this minstrel, he who has a voice like unto the gods.”

            Not only did Phemius have a voice like unto the gods, but it was commonly felt in ancient Greece that the talent for singing was a gift from the gods themselves. The blind bard Demodocus in the palace of the Phaeacian King Alcinous in Scheria was referred to as godlike and the recipient of just such a gift. In his case, his great singing talent was seen as a compromise provided to him by the gods in recompense for having lost his sight.

Also summon here the godlike minstrel Demodocus for to him above all others has the god given the gift of song and he gives delight no matter what he chooses to sing.

Then the herald came along, leading the trusty minstrel who was regarded with great affection by the muse who had given him both good and evil, for she had taken away his sight but had given him the gift of music.

The muse urged the minstrel to sing of the glorious deeds of warriors and their fame that had reached into the broad heavens.

            The minstrel’s stories were so heart-rending that they reduced the attentive Odysseus to tears. In the midst of his sorrows, Odysseus finally revealed his true identity to his hosts.

The renowned minstrel sang this song but Odysseus grasped his swirling cloak with his hands and draped it over his head in order to hide his handsome face for he was ashamed that the Phaeacians might see him shedding great tears. As often as the godlike minstrel would stop singing, Odysseus would wipe away his tears and draw the cloak back off his head and taking a two-handled goblet, would make a drink libation to the gods. But he would start up again and the best of the Phaeacians would encourage him to sing because they took pleasure in it and once more Odysseus would cover his head and groan mightily.

            Throughout the entire Iliad and Odyssey, we see clear indications that music and song were integral parts of everyday life for the ancient Greeks, whether used at happy or mournful occasions. The minstrel played at the wedding in Sparta when Telemachus arrived and Nausicaa was leading her handmaidens in song when Odysseus emerged naked from the bushes. Happy times were celebrated on the famous shield of Achilles:

In the one there were scenes of weddings and feasts and by the light of blazing torches they were leading the brides from their inner rooms into the town and the sound of the wedding song rose high. The young men were spinning around dancing and the sound of flutes and lyres rang out in their midst and the women stood on each side of the doorway and marvelled.

            Briseis sang a lament over the dead Patroclus and Thetis sang mournfully with her Nereids. Helen noted that the bad things that she and Alexander had done would be remembered forever in the songs of men. Sad occasions, such as the funeral of Hector, also featured singing and music:

The others, when they had brought him to the glorious house, laid him on a bed of cords and beside him they placed minstrels of the dirge who sang a song of lamentation and led the dirge while the women sang along in lament.

Even the gods on Olympus celebrated with song:

They feasted the whole day long until the sun went down and they had plenty of everything, food for the banquet, the sound of the lyre which Apollo held and the sweet songs which the Muses raised on high.

            The immortals took their music seriously and you certainly did not want to challenge their ability to sing, as we discover in the story of Thamyris and the Muses from the catalogue of the ships.

The men of Pylos were there and beautiful Arene, and Thryon where you ford the river Alpheus. They came from well-built Aepy, Kyparisseis, Amphigenea, Pteleon, Helos and Dorion, where the Muses met Thamyris and put an end to his singing forever. He was returning from Oikhalia where Eurytos lived and was leader and he bragged that he would best even the Muses, daughters of aegis-bearing Zeus, if they should sing in contest with him. As a result, they became provoked and wounded him. They took from him his divine power of song and from that point on he could no longer play the lyre.

            Homer displayed a certain prejudice when he sang about people engaged in singing and dancing. All of the happy times like banquets, weddings and social gatherings were celebrated by the Achaeans with song, and music seemed to play a part in the world of the Trojans only in unhappy times like funerals. Homer depicted the Trojans as a warlike race that would rather fight than sing and therefore somewhat less civilized than the Greeks.

In such a way you show favour to men who are evil, even the Trojans whose might is always presumptuous and they can never get enough of the din of battle. Of all things there is an abundance, of sleep and love and sweet song and goodly dance. Man would rather have his fill of these things rather than war, but the Trojans cannot get enough of battle.

            In Homer’s tales it is not only the bards who take to song. When Achilles was slighted by Agamemnon, he retired from the battle and sat in his tent, playing his lyre and singing to amuse himself and his companions. There he was found by the delegation that was sent to persuade him to return to the fighting.

They then came to the encampment and the ships of the Myrmidons and there they found Achilles playing on a lyre that was beautifully wrought and had a bridge of silver. It was part of the spoils that he had taken when he sacked the city of Eetion and he was now gladdening his heart with it singing about the exploits of men. Patroclus sat in silence and alone across from him waiting for the son of Aiakos to finish his song.

            In the Odyssey, the Sirens sang to Odysseus in an attempt to destroy the hero and his crew. He had his men fasten him to the mast and fill their ears with beeswax to avoid the temptation of the Sirens. They sang to the ship as they sailed past.

Come hither as you go, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans, stop your ship so that you can listen to our voices. For never before has a man sailed past this island in his dark ship, without first listening to the melodious song from our mouths. He is gladdened by it and goes away a better man for hearing it.

            The sorceress Circe sang as she worked at her loom and later enticed Odysseus’s crew to enter her home at the beckoning of Polites. There they fell under her spell.

They stood in the entrance of the house of the goddess with the beautiful locks and from within they heard Circe singing with a lovely voice as she went back and forth at her great immortal loom creating a web of shimmering glory such as only a goddess could create.

O my friends, within the house someone is weaving a great web and singing beautifully so that the whole house echoes her sweet voice, either some goddess or some woman. So come now quickly and let us call to her.

            Calypso was another one who made lovely music and Hermes discovered her in her home singing while she worked. Her enchanting ways convinced Odysseus to stay with her for seven years.

But when he had reached the far away island, he came from the violet sea to the land and went to the great cave where the fair-haired nymph lived and he found her there. A great fire was kindling in the fireplace and over the island lay the smell of cut cedar and juniper as they burned. She was inside the cave singing with a sweet voice as she worked back and forth at the loom with a golden shuttle.

            Echoing what Helen had told Hector about her future and her bad reputation living on, when Odysseus visited the underworld, the spirit of Agamemnon assured him that the deeds of men, whether good or bad, would be sung forever by generations to come.

Then the spirit of the son of Atreus answered him. “Blessed son of Laertes, resourceful Odysseus, the wife you acquired was full of great goodness and the prudent Penelope, daughter of Icarius, had good understanding in that she was loyal to you Odysseus, her wedded husband. Therefore her fame will never die out but the immortals will create for the men on earth a pleasant song of the virtue of the constant Penelope. Not even did the daughter of Tyndareus devise such evil deeds when she killed her wedded husband and hateful is her song that is sung among men and she has created a bad reputation for women, even for those who are doing good deeds.”

In many ways we can look at Homer’s songs as precursors to what we have come to know as Old World Ballads. These were traditional narrative folksongs that were passed down orally from one generation to the next. They originated in Europe and many of them came from the British Isles. These were timeless stories about love, tragedy, historical events or the supernatural. These ballads were part of the oral tradition and often changed slightly as they passed from one bard to the next. They were narrative in style and used simple language, rhythm and rhyming schemes, making them easy to sing and to remember. The major difference between what Homer did and these Old World Ballads was the fact that a single bard narrated Homer’s epics, whereas the more modern ballads were often communally sung. But whether it was the Iliad or the Odyssey in ancient Greece or Barbara Allen, Scarborough Fair or Greensleeves more recently, telling stories with song has always been a vital part of the peoples’ lives.