How one poem by an ancient Greek poetess managed to subvert the war maxims of her time

The ancient Greeks were deeply fixated on the Trojan War. Many noble families across the Greek world firmly believed that the heroes of that war were not merely characters of ancient myth, but actual flesh and blood individuals. They held the conviction that they themselves were direct descendants of these legendary figures. It appears that members of the Greek nobility dedicated much of their lives to emulating the great heroes of the war, striving to achieve the same immortal fame as Hector, Agamemnon, and Achilles. They pursued this goal by developing rhetorical abilities that would serve them in assemblies and public positions within the polis, or by honing their skills as warriors and commanders on the battlefield. The main model was Achilles, the Greek hero who single-handedly turned the tide of battle in favour of the Greeks, died a hero's death in Troy, thus winning the glory of immortality, even though he did not live a particularly long life.

While conquering the territory of modern Turkey, Alexander the Great made a stop in the city of Troy. He made offerings to King Priam and paid homage at the tombs of Achilles and Ajax. According to the Greek historian Arrian, within the Trojan temple dedicated to the goddess Athena, Alexander discovered weapons purportedly from the Trojan War. He claimed some of these artifacts and, in return, left his own shield in the temple.

Throughout his campaign of conquest, Alexander cleverly utilized ancient myths across every Greek region he reached. For instance, upon arriving in Troy, he asserted a familial connection to Hector's wife, Andromache, and later in life claimed descent from the god Dionysus. However, Alexander took particular pride in tracing his lineage to two legendary Greek heroes: Hercules on his father's side and Achilles on his mother's side. Given this heritage, it's unsurprising that the greatest conqueror of the ancient world, like many ancient Greeks, tended to overlook the moral complexities depicted in the Homeric epics. Notably, Achilles, the central hero of the war, initially resisted fighting for Agamemnon and was only driven back into battle by his overwhelming wrath following the death of his friend.

However, there was a lingering question regarding the Trojan War Among the Greeks: the culpability of Helen of Troy. Did she, the woman renowned for her beauty and the catalyst of that devastating conflict, willingly accompany her lover Paris, the Prince of Troy, or was she abducted by him? While Homer, the primary source of the Trojan War, offer various interpretations, the prevailing sentiment among Greek audiences was often predetermined. They tended to align with the male characters portrayed in the Iliad and the Odyssey, assuming Helen's voluntary departure rather than abduction. This viewpoint persisted into the fifth century BC, with Herodotus asserting that the Persian enemy believed there is no such thing as being abducted against one's will.

The poet Sappho wrote her lyrical poetry at the end of the seventh century BC. And like all Greek writers lived in the shadow of Homer. Much of her life remains shrouded in mystery, with scant details reaching us through late and likely embellished sources. What little we know suggests she resided on the island of Lesbos, in the city of Mytilene. Only one complete poem and several fragmentary pieces have survived to the present day. From her poetry, we learn that she lived among younger women, perhaps engaging in their education and development, although the exact nature of her involvement remains unclear. In her uncomplete poem known to us as Fragment 16, Sappho seems to side with Helen herself when it comes to who's responsible for the war.

In the fourth book of the Odyssey, Telemachus, the son of Odysseus, embarks on a journey to Sparta prompted by the guidance of the goddess Athena. His mission: to seek information about his long-lost father, who has been absent from home for nearly twenty years. Upon his arrival in Sparta, Telemachus visits King Menelaus' palace. There, amidst the royal court, Telemachus finds himself engaged in a dialogue between King Menelaus and his returned wife, Helen.

Initially, the atmosphere appears light-hearted, yet beneath the surface lies great tensions. Helen attributes her past actions, including leaving her home and family, to madness induced by Aphrodite's influence. She confesses that she left behind a "child, bridal bed, and husband— a man without defect in form or mind." In response, Menelaus rebukes her, suggesting that despite the blame she puts on the goddess, she actively sought to impede the Greeks' victory during the Trojan War. He recounts how three times she circled the concealed Trojan horse, calling out to the Greek warriors within, “making your voice sound like their wives, calling”. (the translation is Robert Fitzgerald’s)

Rather than deny these accusations, Helen swiftly redirects attention, instructing her maids to prepare beds for Telemachus and his companion. Though Menelaus attempts to alleviate the tension with a jest, suggesting that perhaps a God compelled her actions, a weighty and somber undertone prevail, hinting at unresolved grievances.

In Fragment 16, Sappho takes Helen's side, reinforcing the notion that it was the Greek goddess of love and desire who made Helen fall in love with Paris, a love that led to her subsequent departure. Aphrodite's influence was depicted as so overpowering that Helen easily abandoned her marriage to Menelaus, a noble husband, and even forgot completely about the daughter and parents she left behind.

While Herodotus used Helen's abduction as an explanation for the age-old enmity between the Barbarian east and the Greek west, Sappho invoke the ancient myth to explore a different philosophical question: the nature of beauty. For Sappho, beauty is intimately tied to one's affections. Sappho thinks that beauty resides in that which one loves. Following Helen, the poetess declares her own preference for the beauty of her beloved Anactoria, praising her graceful demeanor and the radiant sparkle of her face, over the hollow grandeur and the empty pomp of war.

And what do you think? Who should we blame for this war: Helen, Aphrodite, or perhaps King Menelaus and his fellow kings?

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