Orpheus suffers a lot of deaths. Not as many as Dionysos by a long shot, but it’s still a lot. I discussed some of the more important deaths here, but I just came across one I’d never read about before and it’s hugely significant. 

Marci Valerii Martialis, De Spectaculis Liber 21a
quidquid in Orpheo Rhodope spectasse theatro dicitur, exhibuit, Caesar, harena tibi. repserunt scopuli mirandaque silva cucurrit, quale fuisse nemus creditur Hesperidum. affuit immixtum pecori genus omne ferarum et supra vatem multa pependit avis, ipse sed ingrato iacuit laceratus ab urso. haec tantum, haec res est facta ita, ficta prior.

Martial, On the Spectacles 21a
Everything which is said to have been seen on the stage of Orpheus in Thrace, the scene is presented to you, oh Caesar: Rocks crawled, a wonderful forest ran, such as the forest of the Hesperides is thought to have been. Every race of wild beasts were present, intermingled with the domestic, and many a bird was suspended above the poet, but he himself lie dead, torn to pieces by a disagreeable bear. Only this event is fabricated in such a way, from how it was originally composed.

Ibid 21b:
Orphea quod subito tellus emisit hiatu, versa miramur? — venit ab Eurydice.

Somehow the earth suddenly opened and sent forth a bear, crushing Orpheus; it came from Eurydice.

Numerous allusions in both sources favorable to him (like Plato) and those that are hostile (like Aristophanes) make it clear that Sokrates did not have just a casual interest in Bacchic Orphism. He was an initiate, and quite possibly a practitioner i.e. one of those Orpheotelestai his star pupil was so quick to lambast (despite Plato likely being an initiate himself.) Among those who helped shape the mind of Sokrates the two likeliest candidates for introducing him to (and possibly initiating him into) Orphism are Diotima (note that Protogonos is also called Eros; also consider that there were many female Orpheotelestai and Sokrates really liked women, enough to marry them two at a time) or Aglaophamos who was part of the “golden chain” including Pythagoras, Orpheus and Hermes. (A third possibility, of course, is Euthyphro though with the age difference and personality clash I just don’t think he’s a likely candidate. It is interesting that Sokrates meets him in that dialogue at the Courtyard, where Euthyphro was waiting to bring his father up on charges of murder considering the subject matter of so much Orphic myth.) And then, thinking about the Orphic hexameters from Sinai it hit me — where is one’s deepest religious convictions formed? At the knee of the mother (or nurse.) And anyone recall what the mother of Sokrates was named? Phainaréte. Which is formed by joining ἀρετή (“excellence, virtue”) with φαίνω (“to shine, to bring forth into the light”) from which we get Φάνης, the primary Orphic divinity (at least in the 24 Rhapsodies.)

Something I forgot to mention in the last post: there are intriguing reminiscences between the Orphic hexameters from Sinai and the Proem of the Orphic Argonautika — which are not to be found in the Sacred Discourses in 24 Rhapsodies. (As well as some that are.)

When driven by the goad of Kings Bakchos and Apollon, I described their terrible shafts, and likewise I disclosed the cure for feeble mortal bodies and the Great Rites to initiates. Truly, above all I disclosed the stern inevitability of ancient Chaos, and Time, who in his boundless coils, produced Aether, and the twofold, beautiful, and noble Eros, whom the younger men call Phanes, celebrated parent of eternal Night, because he himself first manifested. Then, I sang of the race of powerful Brimo, and the destructive acts of the Giants, who spilled their gloomy seed from the Sky begetting the men of old, whence came forth mortal stock, which resides throughout the boundless world. And I sang of the service of Zeus, and of the cult of the Mother and how wandering in the Cybelean mountains she conceived the girl Persephone by the unconquerable son of Kronos, and of the renowned tearing of Kasmilos by Herakles, and of the sacred oath of Idaios, and of the immense oak of the Korybantes, and of the wanderings of Demeter, her great sorrow for Persephone, and her lawgiving. And also I sang of the splendid gift of the Kabeiroi, and the silent oracles of Night about Lord Bakchos, and of the sea of Samothrace and of Cyprus, and of the love of Aphrodite for Adonis. And I sang of the rites of Praxidike and the mountain nights of Athela, and of the lamentations of Egypt, and of the holy offerings to Osiris. And also I taught the multitudinous ways prophesying: from the motion of wild birds and from the positions of entrails; how to receive the prophetic dreams that pierce the mind in sleep, and the interpretation of signs and omens and what the motion of the stars means. I taught atonement that brings great happiness for mortals; and how to supplicate the Gods and give offerings to the dead. And I described that which I gained by sight and thought when on the dark way of entering Haides via Taenaron, relying on my cithara, through the love of my wife. And I described the sacred test of the Egyptians in Memphis that is used to convey prophesy, and the sacred city of Apis, which is surrounded by the river Nile.

In fact it also has resonances with one of the other Gold Tablets from Thurii, given here in two translations:

trans. 1
To the First-Born, to Mother Earth, to Cybela, daughter of Demeter.
Zeus, Air, Sun. Fire conquers all.
Avatars of fortune and Phanes. Moirai that remember all. You, O illustrious daimon.
Father who subdues all. Compensation.
Air, fire, Mother, Nestis, night, day,
Fasting for seven days. Zeus who sees all. Always. Mother, hear my prayer.
Fine sacrifices. Sacrifices. Demeter. Fire. Zeus. The Underground Girl.
Hero. Light to the intelligence. The Adviser seized the Girl.
Earth. Air. To the intelligence.

trans. 2
To Earth, first-born Mother, Cybelean Kore said: … [lacuna] …
… of Demeter … all-seeing Zeus.
O Sun, Fire, you went through all towns, when you appeared with the Victories and Fortunes and All-wise Fate, where you increase the brightness of the festival with your lordship, O glorious deity! By you all things are subdued, all things overpowered, all things smitten! The Decrees of Fate must everywhere be endured. O Fire, lead me to the Mother, if the fast can endure, to fast for seven nights and days! For there was a seven-day fast, O Olympian Zeus and all-seeing Sun …

Here are some follow-up thoughts I have on the Orphic fragments from Sinai. Throughout I am going to limit myself to just the portion that Boris Kayachev has called “Fragments 1 & 2” concerning Aphrodite and Persephone. I’ll analyze “Fragments 3 & 4” about the Giants and Korybantes in a separate post.

To begin I respectfully disagree with the translators (and most scholars I’ve seen discuss them so far) that the fragments come from the Sacred Discourses in 24 Rhapsodies. Despite this I strongly suspect that it is going to end up becoming the consensus attribution. And there are a couple really good arguments they have in their favor.

The 24 Rhapsodies were compiled during the Hellenistic period, likely from older material dating back to the 5th or even 6th century BCE. Most later authors, especially those in Neoplatonic circles for whom this collection was on a par with the Chaldaean Oracles and the Books of Hermes Trismegistos as part of a class of sacred, revealed literature, quote from the 24 Rhapsodies whenever they are citing Orphika, the teachings of Orpheus and Mousaios, or even just “the theologians.” This strongly suggests that while there had been a flourishing Orphic literature in previous generations, by the 3rd or 4th century CE and certainly after that, most of this material had disappeared. Since the Sinai manuscript dates from the 5th or 6th century CE that could be a strong indicator that the fragment comes from that collection. Another point in their favor is that one of the fragments has a header containing the letter Ψ possibly indicating that this was the start of Book 23, or Song 23, using the same alphanumerical system as was applied to the Homeric corpus. Scholars assume that if the 24 Rhapsodies dealt with the sparagmos of Dionysos (and that’s a pretty big if) it probably came towards the end of the collection, about where our fragment seems to belong. It’s also unlikely that another Orphic text would treat incidents from the youth of the God at the end rather than the beginning, assuming that is in fact a header and not just a random Ψ. (Some of the fragments are in such a poor state that they contain isolated words, or even just strings of letters.)

So far so good. The problem is that since so many authors cited the 24 Rhapsodies we have a fairly decent idea of their overarching structure and contents and the Sinai fragments not only contain incidents not attested in our sources, it’s pretty difficult to reconcile the timeline. Certainly not impossible — there are large gaps, and some of the reconstructions in the collections of Kern and Bernabé are, shall we say tentative — but I just don’t see how it’s possible. And on stylistic grounds alone the Sinai fragments would appear to come from another work, unless the 24 Rhapsodies was truly an anthology rather than a sustained narrative from the appearance of the Egg through the different dynastic transitions, culminating in Dionysos reclaiming his father’s throne. (Or Zeus resuming his rule, and Dionysos establishing his own domain within it.) Keep in mind that I’m strictly an amateur with a sizable Greek vocabulary but little practical knowledge of even basic things like how to put together a sentence, let alone the skills to properly evaluate genre and stylistic elements. That said, they just feel like they come from very different works to me, and my gut’s rarely wrong. (Not that I’d expect anyone to accept that as an argument.) While it would be exciting to recover such a large fragment from such a well known piece of literature — and to be able to read it directly, rather than through commentaries and quotations we have no way of verifying the authenticity of — I think it’s equally as exciting to be able to read a different piece of Orphic literature, possibly even one of the works attributed by the Suda to Orpheus. (Many of which were penned by Pythagoreans.) That would mean either that this work survived from the Classical or early Hellenistic period on up to the close of late antiquity. Or maybe we’re dealing with an archaizing work of a Hellenistic or Imperial poet, one that may have been drawing on local tradition or riffing on some unknown Orphic text.

And the subject matter of the Sinai fragments is really intriguing. To begin with we have Aphrodite traveling over Earth, Sky, Sea and even daring to descend into the Underworld in search of Dionysos. This creates a nice parallel with Dionysos’ own katabasis to recover the soul of his mother Semele — especially since Aphrodite doesn’t just act as a Nurse of Dionysos but speaks to him with clear maternal affection, calling him “divine child” and “my sweet son” and smothering him with hugs and kisses. Now normally Aphrodite and Dionysos have a very different sort of relationship — either fellow-feasters at the symposion, their marriage was widely (and wildly) celebrated throughout Asia Minor and the Near East, or Dionysos is paired with Goddesses and Heroines who have been syncretized with Aphrodite, such as Isis-Aphrodite, Aphrodite-Astarte, Ariadne-Aphrodite, and various Ptolemaic and Seleukid Queens. And via interpretatio Germanica Freyja is frequently identified with Venus and Aphrodite. This gives added significance to Aphrodite’s frantic search, since both Freyja and Isis wandered the world in various disguises looking for their lost husbands. Obviously not enough material remains to speculate but I’m wondering if Dionysos and Aphrodite’s relationship goes from nurturing, protective and motherly to romantic (appropriate since Aphrodite presides over many different kinds of love and deviant sexuality is a constant theme that runs through Orphism) or if the author drew on different strains of tradition where it never evolved in that direction. There’s similar ambiguity in the relationship between Aphrodite and Hermes who, at least in Southern Italy and on the shores of the Black Sea are paired as a committed but non-married couple though in the Orphic Hymn to Chthonic Hermes he is presented as the child of Aphrodite and Dionysos. (Of course the other hymn in that collection dedicated to Hermes gives his more conventional parentage i.e. as the offspring of Zeus and Maia.)

There’s an even more direct parallel with Aphrodite’s katabasis — though her relationship with Persephone is much better in the Sinai fragments:

Because of Adonis’ beauty Aphrodite secreted him away in a chest, keeping it from the Gods, and left him with Persephone. But when Persephone got a glimpse of Adonis, she refused to return him. When the matter was brought to Zeus for arbitration, he divided the year into three parts and decreed that Adonis would spend one third of the year by himself, one third with Persephone, and the rest with Aphrodite. But Adonis added his own portion to Aphrodite’s. (Apollodoros, Library 1.184-5)

In a version cited by Hyginus Zeus actually brings Orpheus’ mother in to arbitrate between the feuding Goddesses, with tragic consequences:

Some also have said that Venus and Proserpina came to Jove for his decision, asking him to which of them he would grant Adonis. Calliope, the judge appointed by Jove, decided that each should possess him half of the year. But Venus, angry because she had not been granted what she thought was her right, stirred the women in Thrace by love, each to seek Orpheus for herself, so that they tore him limb from limb. His head, carried down from the mountain into the sea, was cast by the waves upon the island of Lesbos. It was taken up and buried by the people of Lesbos, and in return for this kindness, they have the reputation of being exceedingly skilled in the art of music. The lyre, as we have said, was put by the Muses among the stars. (Astronomica 2.7)

This makes me wonder if the poet of the Orphic hexameters engaged in bricolage, taking this myth about Adonis and repurposing it for Dionysos, with the presence of Dionysos subtly shifting the relationship between the two Goddesses. Instead of rivals at each other’s throats they are united in their mutual love of the Divine Child, and also united in fierce opposition to whatever lured him away from Aphrodite. (Assuming baby Dionysos didn’t wander off on his own.) Did our bricoleur have the Empedoklean flux of Love (φιλότης) and Strife (νεῖκος) in mind or the parade of polarities found in the Olbian Bone Tablets (βίος θάνατος, εἰρήνη πόλεμος, ἀλήθεια ψεῦδος, σῶμα ψυχή [Life Death, Peace War, True False, Body Soul]) I wonder?

And, of course, the relationship between Adonis and Dionysos is similarly dynamic. Sometimes the two are paired as “dying and rising” Gods with Oriental roots and orgiastic rites. Sometimes they are syncretized, representing different facets of one another. And according to the poet Phanokles (“the glory of Phanês,” a name with strong Orphic associations — unless it means “Manifest Glory”) there was another kind of penetration too:

Bakchos on hills the fair Adonis saw, and ravished him, and reaped a wondrous joy.

In fact, Dionysos’ alter ego Óðr is even entangled with Adonis:

Against this theory, Falk raised the objections that the name of Óðr is not instanced in early Old Norse and that any transition Adonis>Óðr would call for etymological justification; also, that the meaning ‘raging, mad’ ill agrees with the character of Baldr. To account, then, for the name of Óðr, Falk calls attention to a passage in Martianus Capella’s (early 5th century) poem De nuptiis Philologie et Mercurii, translated into Old High German by Notker Labeo. There, in the hymn to the Sun God, the Sun God is celebrated under his various names; last, as Biblius Adon. This is glossed by Notker as Biblius cantans. In other words, Notker interprets Adon as αδων, present participle of Attic αιδω ‘to sing.’ This, Falk surmises, may have been the common medieval interpretation of the name of Adonis; which, then, translated into Old Norse, would be Óðr; which as a noun also signifies ‘song, poetry.’ (L. M. Hollander, The Old Norse God Óðr)

Although I’m sure that the author was punning when he changed Aphrodite’s epiklesis from φιλομμειδής (“laughter-loving”) to φιλ̣ο̣μ̣μη̣δοῦc (“penis-loving”), the Derveni commentator accurately noted:

People are wrong to think that Orpheus did not compose a hymn that says wholesome and lawful things; for they say that he utters riddles by means of his composition, and it is impossible to state the solution to his words even though they have been spoken. But his composition is strange and riddling for human beings. Orpheus did not wish to say in it disputable riddles, but important things in riddles. For he tells a holy tale even from the first word right through to the last, as he shows even in the well-known verse: for by bidding them ‘put doors on their ears’ he is saying that he is not legislating for the many, but is addressing those who are pure in hearing … (Derveni Papyrus col. 7)

First, in conventional Greek mythology Aphrodite was born from the foam that rose on the Ocean when the severed genitals of Ouranos were cast into them by the usurper Kronos:

Ouranos came, bringing on night and longing for love, and he lay about Gaia spreading himself full upon her. Then the son from his ambush stretched forth his left hand and in his right took the great long sickle with jagged teeth, and swiftly lopped off his own father’s members and cast them away to fall behind him. And not vainly did they fall from his hand; for all the bloody drops that gushed forth Gaia received, and as the seasons moved round she bare the strong Erinyes and the great Giants with gleaming armor, holding long spears in their hands and the Nymphai whom they call Meliai all over the boundless earth. And so soon as he had cut off the members with flint and cast them from the land into the surging sea, they were swept away over the main a long time: and a white foam spread around them from the immortal flesh, and in it there grew a maiden. First she drew near holy Kythera, and from there, afterwards, she came to sea-girt Kypros, and came forth an awful and lovely Goddess, and grass grew up about her beneath her shapely feet. (Hesiod, Theogony 147–187)

Notably, this is also the origin of mankind who are crafted from the ash-trees of the Meliai:

Zeus the father made a third age of mortals, this time of bronze, not at all like the silver one. Fashioned from ash trees, they were dreadful and mighty and bent on the harsh deeds of war and violence; they ate no bread and their hearts were strong as adamant. (Hesiod, Works and Days 143–147)

Not content with one mythological castration, Orphism has Kronos suffer the same fate that he inflicted on his father, as related by Porphyry in On the Cave of the Nymphs:

In Orpheus, likewise, Kronos is ensnared by Zeus through honey. For Kronos, being filled with honey, is intoxicated, his senses are darkened, as if from the effects of wine, and he sleeps; just as Porus, in the banquet of Plato, is filled with nectar; for wine, he says, was not yet known. The Goddess Night, too, in Orpheus, advises Zeus to make use of honey as an artifice. For she says to him:—

When stretch’d beneath the lofty oaks you view
Kronos, with honey by the bees produc’d
Sunk in ebriety, fast bind the God.

This therefore, takes place, and Kronos being bound is emasculated in the same manner as Ouranos. Kronos receives the powers of Ouranos and Zeus Kronos.

And in the Orphic Theogony that the Dreveni commentator was commenting on Zeus swallows the αἰδοῖον of Phanês, the progenitor of all:

The phallos of the First-born King, onto which all
the Immortals grew (or: clung fast), blessed Gods and Goddesses
and rivers and lovely springs and everything else
that had been born then; and he himself became solitary.

Who, at least according to the 24 Rhapsodies, is none other than Dionysos. And Dionysos has his own castration stories, for instance this one related by Arnobius of Sicca which begins with Zeus trying to rape his mother (a common occurrence in Orphic myth) and prematurely jizzing on a rock:

This the rock received, and with many groanings Acdestis is born in the tenth month, being named from his mother rock. In him there had been resistless might, and a fierceness of disposition beyond control, a lust made furious, and derived from both sexes. He violently plundered and laid waste; he scattered destruction wherever the ferocity of his disposition had led him; he regarded not Gods nor men, nor did he think anything more powerful than himself; he contemned Earth, Heaven, and the Stars. Now, when it had been often considered in the councils of the Gods, by what means it might be possible either to weaken or to curb his audacity; Liber, the rest hanging back, takes upon himself this task. With the strongest wine he drugs a spring much resorted to by Acdestis where he had been wont to assuage the heat and burning thirst roused in him by sport and hunting. Hither runs Acdestis to drink when he felt the need; he gulps down the draught too greedily into his gaping veins. Overcome by what he is quite unaccustomed to, he is in consequence sent fast asleep. Liber is near the snare which he had set; over his foot he throws one end of a halter formed of hairs, woven together very skilfully; with the other end he lays hold of his privy members. When the fumes of the wine passed off, Acdestis starts up furiously, and his foot dragging the noose, by his own strength he robs himself of his sex; with the tearing asunder of these parts there is an immense flow of blood; both are carried off and swallowed up by the earth; from them there suddenly springs up, covered with fruit, a pomegranate tree. (Against the Heathen 5.5-6)

And in turn Dionysos suffers the loss of his phallos in a story recounted by Clement of Alexandria in the second book of his Exhortation to the Greeks:

If you wish to inspect the orgies of the Korybantes, then know that, having killed their third brother, they covered the head of the dead body with a purple cloth, crowned it, and carrying it on the point of a spear, buried it under the roots of Olympos. These mysteries are, in short, murders and funerals. And the priests of these rites, who are called Kings of the Sacred Rites by those whose business it is to name them, give additional strangeness to the tragic occurrence, by forbidding parsley with the roots from being placed on the table, for they think that parsley grew from the Korybantic blood that flowed forth; just as the women, in celebrating the Thesmophoria, abstain from eating the seeds of the pomegranate which have fallen on the ground, from the idea that pomegranates sprang from the drops of the blood of Dionysos. Those Korybantes also they call Kabeiroi; and the ceremony itself they announce as the Kabeiric mystery. For those two identical fratricides, having abstracted the box in which the phallos of Bakchos was deposited, took it to Etruria–dealers in honourable wares truly. They lived there as exiles, employing themselves in communicating the precious teaching of their superstition, and presenting phallic symbols and the box for the Tyrrhenians to worship. And some will have it, not improbably, that for this reason Dionysos was called Attis, because he was mutilated. And what is surprising at the Tyrrhenians, who were barbarians, being thus initiated into these foul indignities, when among the Athenians, and in the whole of Greece–I blush to say it–the shameful legend about Demeter holds its ground?

Note that both of these latter castrations result in the drops of blood becoming pomegranates, the fruit of marriage which Haides used to bind Persephone to him, and note as well that the Korybantes — who will show up in Fragments 3 & 4 of the Orphic hexameters from Sinai — place the virilia of Dionysos in a box or chest (the Greek could signify either), just as Persephone places him in one at the start of Fragment 1:

Thus Persephone spoke, and rose from her lustrous throne. She then hastened to the place where inside a secret chamber she had locked up Dionysos, the loud-roaring bull God, similar to the radiance of a rising Moon and shining with clothes and lovely wreaths.

I strongly suspect that this is meant as the prototype of the liknon, a basket shaped like a winnowing fan, in which sacred tokens of the mysteries were stored with linen draped over to keep them safe from the profaning eyes of the uninitiated. The liknon was carried in processions and even placed on the heads of priestesses who then had to perform a special dance without the basket falling off. It was also an instrument of purification as Servius informs us:

The mystic fan of Iacchus, that is the sieve (cribrum) of the threshing-floor. He calls it the mystic fan of Iacchus, because the rites of Father Liber had reference to the purification of the soul and men were purified through his mysteries as grain is purified by fans. It is because of this that Isis is said to have placed the limbs of Osiris, when they had been torn to pieces by Typhon, on a sieve, for Father Liber is the same person, he in whose mysteries the fan plays a part, because as we said he purifies souls. Whence he is also called Liber, because he liberates, and it is he who, Orpheus said, was torn asunder by the Giants. Some add that Father Liber was called by the Greeks Liknites. Moreover the fan is called by them liknon, in which he is said to have been placed directly after he was born from his mother’s womb. Others explain its being called “mystic” by saying that the fan is a large wicker vessel in which peasants, because it is of large size, are wont to heap their first-fruits and consecrate it to Liber and Libera. Hence it is called “mystic.”

There’s even a passage in Fragment 3 where the mystic veil is removed:

But when they performed all these things from beginning to end, and took again off the child the veil covering his eyes and head…

However a different sort of box or chest shows up in Dionysian myth:

The inhabitants of Brasiai in Lakedaimonia have a story, found nowhere else in Greece, that Semele, after giving birth to her son by Zeus, was discovered by Kadmos and put with Dionysos into a chest, which was washed up by the waves in their country. Semele, who was no longer alive when found, received a splendid funeral, but they brought up Dionysos. The people of Brasiai add that Ino in the course of her wanderings came to the country and agreed to become the nurse of Dionysos. They show the cave where Ino nursed him, and call the plain the garden of Dionysos. (Pausanias, Description of Greece 3.24.4)

It is unlikely that this obscure variant from an obscure city near Sparta ever found its way into Orphika, though it is the sort of grotesque and disturbing subject matter they gravitated towards. If a myth has been made even weirder there’s a good chance an Orphic bricoleur has been at work. But I digress …

The entirety of Fragment 1 is intriguing for its parallels to the lamellae aureae, though I don’t recall Rossetto or Kayachev making this connection. (Forgive me if they did, I’m writing this largely from memory and while really stoned.) If that pans out that’s fucking huge as it would confirm that these texts are indeed Bacchic Orphic and not, as Zuntz proposed relics of an indigenous Italian cult of Demeter and Persephone with some Pythagorean influences. (Which, really, always felt like quibbling since that basically amounts to the same thing.) And secondly, and in some respects even more importantly, it would demonstrate a connection between the practical, operative Orphism of the itinerant religious specialists and the more literary and philosophical strains of the tradition we find in Plato and his Diádochoi. Granted, that has already been proven with the Derveni commentator, but academia is slow to part with appealing theories. Anyway.

In Fragment 1 we find:

ὣc φάτο Φερcεφό̣νη{ι} καὶ ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο φαεινοῦ·
c̣ε̣ύ̣ατ’ ἔ̣π̣ε̣[ιθ’ ὅθι … ἔcω κ]ρυφίοιο μελ[ά]θρου
{ἐ}κλήϊc̣ε̣ν̣ Δ̣ιό̣ν̣υ̣cον ἐρίβρομον εἰραφιώτην,
⟨ε⟩ἴκελον [αὐ]γ̣ῆ̣ιc̣ιν̣ ̣μηνὸc περιτελλομέν̣ο̣ιο̣ ̣
εἵμαcί τε cτ̣[ιλβ]ο̣ν̣τα κα̣ὶ̣ ἱμερτοῖc cτεφάνοιc̣ιν̣ ̣.
πα̣ῖδ’ ̣ἐν χε̣ρc̣ὶ[ν] ̣ἀ̣ν̣ε̣ῖλ̣ ̣ε̣ν̣, ἑὸν περικαλλὲc ἄ̣γ̣α̣λ̣μ̣α̣,
αἰνό̣[ν], καρποφ̣όρον, Χαρίτων ἄπο κάλλοc ἔχ[οντα,
καὶ̣ ῥ’ ἐ̣πὶ γ̣ο⟨ύ⟩να̣c̣ι θ̣ῆ̣κ̣ε̣ φιλ̣̣ο̣μ̣μη̣δοῦc Ἀφρο̣[δίτηc.

Thus Persephone spoke, and rose from her lustrous throne. She then hastened to the place where inside a secret chamber she had locked up Dionysos, the loud-roaring bull God, similar to the radiance of a rising Moon and shining with clothes and lovely wreaths. She took up the child in her arms, her most beautiful pride, awesome, fruit-bearing, endowed with the Graces’ beauty, and put him on the knees of penis-loving Aphrodite.

While in the Gold Tablet from Thurii we find:

Ἔρχομαι ἐκ κοθαρῶν κοθαρά, χθονίων βασίλεια,
Εὐκλῆς Εὐβουλεύς τε καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι·
καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼν ὑμῶν γένος ὄλβιον εὔχομαι εἶμεν.
ἀλλά με μοῖρ’ ἐδάμασσε {καὶ ἀθάνατοι θεοὶ ἄλλοι}
καὶ ἀστεροβλῆτα κεραυνῶι.
κύκλου δ’ ἐξέπταν βαρυπενθέος ἀργαλέοιο,
ἱμερτοῦ δ’ ἐπέβαν στεφάνου ποσὶ καρπαλίμοισι,
δεσποίνας δ’ ὑπὸ κόλπον ἔδυν χθονίας βασιλείας.
{ἱμερτοῦ δ’ ἀπέβαν στεμάνου ποσὶ καρπασίμοισι}
“ὄλβιε καὶ μακαριστέ, θεὸς δ’ ἔσηι ἀντὶ βροτοῖο.”
ἔριφος ἐς γάλ’ ἔπετον.

A: I come from the pure, o Pure Queen of the earthly ones, Eukles, Eubouleus, and You other Immortal Gods! I too claim to be of your blessed race, but Fate and other Immortal Gods conquered me with the Star-smiting Thunder. And I flew out from the hard and deeply-grievous circle, and stepped onto the crown with my swift feet, and sank into the lap of the Mistress, the Queen of the Underworld. And I stepped out from the crown with my swift feet.
B: Happy and blessed one! You shall be a God instead of a mortal.
A: I have fallen as a kid into milk.

Note that in both occur a leap or rising up, crowns, pure light, acclimations of praise, sinking into or resting on the lap of a Goddess, and other details found in the remaining Fragments which I’ll save for the follow-up. The Dionysian leap has a special resonance within the mysteries as I’ve amply discussed before, both having to do with Dionysos as a lame God whose characteristic limp from his maimed leg is imitated in a special dance of his devotees (one that we can see Jim Morrison unconsciously perform on stage when, and only when, he hits a particular altered state) as well as Dionysos’ leap from his chariot to console Ariadne, left bereft and disconsolate by Theseus who abandoned her on the desolate isle of Naxos. Ned Lubacher in Time-Fetishes: The Secret History of Eternal Recurrence writes:

This leap will capture the imagination of Renaissance painters, as in Titian’s painting of this scene from 1533, Bacchus and Ariadne. According to Lubacher, Titian was well acquainted with Ovid’s Metamorphoses and “…understood that something essential about the relationship of Bacchus and Ariadne could be depicted only through the figure of the God leaping in midair to save the human from despair, from losing herself in the infinite distance which seems to stretch out from beyond Theseus’ ship…The leap and gaze pull her back from an imminent nothingness and into the cymbal-filled din of the bacchanal. In the sky above them the ring of stars appears enigmatically to suggest that all of this is about something esoteric: the ring of recurrence and the eternal cycles of becoming” (49).

Which naturally reminds one of the Heavenly Crown:

This is thought to be Ariadne’s crown, placed by Father Liber among the constellations. For they say that when Ariadne wed Liber on the island of Dia, and all the Gods gave her wedding gifts, she first received this crown as a gift from Venus and the Horae. But, as the author of the Cretica says, at the time when Liber came to Minos with the hope of lying with Ariadne, he gave her this crown as a present. Delighted with it, she did not refuse the terms. It is said, too, to have been made of gold and Indian gems, and by its aid Theseus is thought to have come from the gloom of the labyrinth to the day, for the gold and gems made a glow of light in the darkness.

But those who wrote the Argolica give the following reason. When Liber received permission from his father to bring back his mother Semele from the Lower World, and in seeking a place of descent had come to the land of the Argives, a certain Hypolipnus met him, a man worthy of that generation, who was to show the entrance to Liber in answer to his request. However, when Hypolipnus saw him, a mere boy in years, excelling all others in remarkable beauty of form, he asked from him the reward that could be given without loss. Liber, however, eager for his mother, swore that if he brought her back, he would do as he wished, on terms, though, that a God could swear to a shameless man. At this, Hypolipnus showed the entrance. So then, when Liber came to that place and was about to descend, he left the crown, which he had received as a gift from Venus, at that place which in consequence is called Stephanos, for he was unwilling to take it with him for fear the immortal gift of the Gods would be contaminated by contact with the dead. When he brought his mother back unharmed, he is said to have placed the crown in the stars as an everlasting memorial.

When the initiate sinks into the lap of the Mistress in the Gold Tablet of Thurii I’ve always assumed that this had a double significance. It’s a very maternal and protective gesture — evidenced by the following line where they compare themselves to a kid resting in the milk — which is certainly important when petitioning the Queen of the Dead. However it’s also suggested a kind of hieros gamos, which may be confirmed by Fragment 1 wherein Dionysos is placed in the lap of Aphrodite, the Goddess of sexuality. I know, I know it’s baby Dionysos, but symbols are polyvalent and time is weird in myth, plus you’ve got the bridal wreath of Ariadne, and in Fragment 2 Aphrodite speaks of how “once in a shaded cave on Nysa grown over with ivy I nourished you with ambrosia and adorned with beautiful clothes.” And that calls to mind the poet Himerios who speaks of how “in Cretan caves Dionysos took Ariadne to wife,” as well as the grotto of Kirke:

There is represented a grotto and in it a woman reclining with a man on a couch, as at a feast. I was of the opinion that they were Odysseus and Kirke, basing my view upon the number of the handmaidens in front of the grotto and upon what they are doing. For the women are four, and they are engaged in the tasks which Homer mentions in his poetry. (Pausanias, Description of Greece 5.19.7)

It is also reminiscent of the time that the proverbial fool Margites went to consult the prophetic head of Orpheus before his wedding and received the following oracular advice, preserved in Hippolytos’ Refutation of All Heresies and usually assumed to be a reference to the two roads in the underworld, though scholar M. L. West believes it to be an allusion to the vagina and anus. (And because it’s Orphism he might not be wrong. Or West may have just been a perv, or making a bawdy joke.)

About these Mysteries, and the road that leads there, which is ‘level and capacious’ and takes the damned to Persephone, the Poet says:

But below it there is a rugged path,
enclosed and slippery like mud,
which is the best way to reach
the delightful grove of much-esteemed Aphrodite.

On these matters, the Saviour has stated explicitly that ‘narrow and tight is the road that leads to life, and few are they that enter upon it, but level and capacious is the road that leads to perdition, and many are they that pass along it.’ (8.41-5)

To be continued.

A while back I posted the preliminary translation that Giulia Rossetto prepared of the Orphic hexameters found in a palimpsest from the library of Saint Catherine’s monastery at Sinai. It was a very tentative translation since there are a number of problematic passages due to the poor condition of the manuscript and other issues I’m not going to bother detailing here.

Boris Kayachev has published a supplementary translation for the Archiv für Papyrusforschung which clarifies some of those issues, provides alternative readings of certain passages, and is generally (without taking anything away from Rossetto’s groundbreaking discovery and the difficult labor of putting together that initial translation) more readable. (Note some portions were too fragmentary for Kayachev to include in this translation, which is a shame as they can be pretty evocative.) I am not sure I agree with all of his corrections and conclusions, but it’s a huge step forward. For instance I do not believe that Γίγαντες instead of Τῑτᾶνες is necessarily an errata, and I remain agnostic on whether these fragments come from the Sacred Discourses in 24 Rhapsodies or some other Orphic text; there are also a couple other points I want to tease out but for now I will simply share Kayachev’s emended translation with immense gratitude to both him and Giulia Rossetto for the work they put into this. Anyone without access to the Archiv für Papyrusforschung hit me up and I’ll send you a PDF.

Fragments 1 & 2 concern an otherwise unattested katabasis of Aphrodite in search of Dionysos, and a conversation she has with the Queen of the Underworld. (There’s also a delightful pun, transforming the Hesiodic epiklesis “laughter-loving” into “penis-loving.”) Fragments 3 & 4 are about the Giants’ attempt to seduce and lure Dionysos away from the throne of Zeus, which is unsuccessful until they deploy “childish toys and gentle words.” Earlier attempts were thwarted by the Korybantes — Akmon made noise at a forge to drown out their enthralling song (creating, notably, a bronze axe) and Kyrbas and Proteus draw their scimitars and fight off the opponents, including a gross pedophile who wants to rape the bibulous baby Bakchos. Good stuff!

Fragment 1:
ὣc φάτο Φερcεφό̣νη{ι} καὶ ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο φαεινοῦ·
c̣ε̣ύ̣ατ’ ἔ̣π̣ε̣[ιθ’ ὅθι … ἔcω κ]ρυφίοιο μελ[ά]θρου
{ἐ}κλήϊc̣ε̣ν̣ Δ̣ιό̣ν̣υ̣cον ἐρίβρομον εἰραφιώτην,
⟨ε⟩ἴκελον [αὐ]γ̣ῆ̣ιc̣ιν̣ ̣μηνὸc περιτελλομέν̣ο̣ιο̣ ̣
εἵμαcί τε cτ̣[ιλβ]ο̣ν̣τα κα̣ὶ̣ ἱμερτοῖc cτεφάνοιc̣ιν̣ ̣.
πα̣ῖδ’ ̣ἐν χε̣ρc̣ὶ[ν] ̣ἀ̣ν̣ε̣ῖλ̣ ̣ε̣ν̣, ἑὸν περικαλλὲc ἄ̣γ̣α̣λ̣μ̣α̣,
αἰνό̣[ν], καρποφ̣όρον, Χαρίτων ἄπο κάλλοc ἔχ[οντα,
καὶ̣ ῥ’ ἐ̣πὶ γ̣ο⟨ύ⟩να̣c̣ι θ̣ῆ̣κ̣ε̣ φιλ̣̣ο̣μ̣μη̣δοῦc Ἀφρο̣[δίτηc.

Thus Persephone spoke, and rose from her lustrous throne. She then hastened to the place where inside a secret chamber she had locked up Dionysos, the loud-roaring bull God, similar to the radiance of a rising Moon and shining with clothes and lovely wreaths. She took up the child in her arms, her most beautiful pride, awesome, fruit-bearing, endowed with the Graces’ beauty, and put him on the knees of penis-loving Aphrodite.

Fragment 2:
ὅν ποτε κιccοφ[ό]ρου Νύc[ηc ἐ]νὶ δαcκίωι ἄντρωι
ἔτρεφον ἀμβ[ροcί]η͙ι κ͙α͙ὶ {επ} ἐκόcμεον εἵμα̣c̣ι καλοῖc.
…
cῶι δὲ πόθωι χ[θόνα π]ᾶ̣cαν [ ]ν αἰθέρα θ’ ἁγνόν
πόντον τ’ ἠδ’ [Ἀχ]έροντοc [ὑπὸ χ]θονὶ χεῦμα κελαινόν.
…
ἔ̣τλην δ’ ε̣ἰc̣ Ἀΐδαο δόμουc cκοτ[ίο]υc καταβῆναι,
ἠελίου προλιποῦcα φάοc λαμπράν τε cελήνην
οὐράνιόν τε πόλον, διὰ cὸν πόθον, ἄ̣μ̣β̣ροτε κοῦρε.
ὣc φάτο Κύπριc ἄναccα, φίλον δ’ ἄ̣[ρα] π̣ο̣λ[λά]κ̣ι π̣αῖδα ̣
ἀ̣cπα̣cίωc ἀγάπαζε, χέραc περὶ γυῖα [β]α̣λο̣ῦcα.

“(You) whom once in a shaded cave on Nysa grown over with ivy I nourished with ambrosia and adorned with beautiful clothes. … Out of love for you, I traversed all the Earth, and the hallowed Heaven, and the Sea, and even the black stream of Acheron under Earth.… I dared to descend into the dark abode of Hades, leaving behind the light of Sun, the bright Moon and the vault of Heaven, out of love for you, divine child.” Thus Lady Kypris spoke, and again and again joyfully greeted her sweet child, embracing him with her arms.

Fragment 3:
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δὴ̣ τ̣ά̣δ̣ε̣ πάντ̣α διαμπερέωc ἐτέλεccαν,
ἂψ δ̣’ ἀ̣πὸ πα̣[ιδ]ὸ̣c̣ ἕ̣λ̣οντ’ ὄccω̣ν κ̣εφα̣λῆc̣ τε̣ κ̣ά̣λ̣υ̣μ̣μα,
καὶ τότε δ̣ὴ τομὸν ε̣ὔ̣[χαλ]κ̣ον πέλ̣εκυν τολυπεύων
Ἄκμων παιδ̣ ̣ὸc {δ’} ἔναντα κατε̣cτ̣άθ̣η̣. ἦ̣λ̣θ̣ε̣ δ. . α̣μ̣ε̣ο̣c
ἀ̣θ[ανάτ]ουc̣ τ̣’ ἤ̣ε̣ιδ[ε]ν ἀνώϊcτ’ ἔργα τελ̣οῦντα̣c̣.
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτ’ [±2]κρατα θενε̣ον̣ c͙χ͙εδ͙ὸν ἦλθε μ̣ὲ̣ν̣ Οἴνου,
πάντα φόβον προϊεὶc ε̣[ἴ] πωc̣ προλ̣[ίποι] Διὸc ἕδρη̣[ν·
Κύρβαc δ͙’ ἀντήμυνεν, ἐ̣γ̣{ε̣}ίνετο δ’ ἔργ̣’ ὑπ̣έροπ̣[λα.
Πρωτε̣ὺc δ’ εἰcήϊξ’ ἅρπην μετὰ χ̣ερcὶ τιτ[αίνων,
φάσγ̣ανα δ’ ἄλλοθεν ἄλλοc͙ ⟨ἔ⟩χ̣εν̣ περι[̣
ἀ͙λ͙λ̣’ οὐδ̣’ ὣ̣ c̣ἀ̣πέλειπε Διὸc [θρόνον
κιcc̣̣ο[ῦ] δ’ ε̣ὐπλέκτοιο̣

But when they performed all these things from beginning to end, and took again off the child the veil covering his eyes and head, after that Akmon stood in front of the child, finishing a sharp axe of fine bronze. Then came … and sang of the Gods performing unexpected deeds. … he (?) came close to Dionysos in the hope that, letting all fear go, he would abandon the throne of Zeus; but Kyrbas defended him, and there took place deeds of martial arrogance. Proteus rushed in, holding out a scimitar in his hands, and they pointed swords from everywhere around. … But not even so did he leave the throne of Zeus. … of nicely twisted ivy…

Fragment 4:
ἐκ θ]ρ̣όνου ἀν[c]τ̣ῆναι, πατρ̣ὸc δ’ ἐφράccατο βουλά[c,
ἅc ο]ἱ τ̣ ὸ πρῶτ[ον . . .] πέφραδε μητίετα Ζεύc,
ὁππότ’ ἀπ’ ὠκεαν[οῖο] ῥοῆc εἰc οὐρανὸν ἦγεν.
ὡc δ’ οὐ πεῖθον παῖδα Διὸc καὶ Φερcεφονείηc
δώροιc παντοίοιc ὁπόcα τρέφει ε̣ὐ̣[ρ]ε̣ῖα χθών,
οὐδ’ ἀπάτη⟨ι⟩c δολίηιcι παρ̣α̣[ι]φαcίηιcί τε μύθων,
ἐκ θρόνου ἀνcτῆναι βαcιληίου, αὐτίκ’ ἄρ’ οἵ γε
κόcμηcαν κεφαλὴν cτεφάνο̣ιc̣ἀνθῶν ἐ̣ρο̣έ̣ντων
παιδὸc Ζηνὸc ἄνακτοc ἐριγδούπο̣ιο γίγαντεc
κ̣ύ̣κλωι δ’ ἐcτιχόωντο ⟨ ⟩
μει]λιχίηι κα͙ὶ πᾶcιν ἀθύρμαcι νηπιάχοιcι
μύθοιcίν] τ’ ἀγανοῖcι παραιπε⟨π⟩ιθε{μ}ῖν μεμαῶτεc.

(Dionysos was about) to stand up from the throne, but he pondered his father’s counsels, which all-wise Zeus first gave him when he led him from the stream of Ocean into Heaven. When they did not persuade the child of Zeus and Persephone with all kinds of gifts which the wide earth breeds, nor with treacherous wiles and words of persuasion, to stand up from the royal throne, then at once they, the Giants, adorned with wreaths of lovely flowers the head of the child of Zeus, the loud-thundering Lord; they marched in circle … wishing to persuade him with kindness and all sorts of childish toys and gentle words.

Okay, just one.

What do you call a bundle of sticks?

Jesus, what’s wrong with you people!? Why would you use that word?

I clearly meant θύσθλα, the sacred implements which the Nurses of Dionysos were forced to toss aside in their flight from the wolfworking King Lykourgos:

All together they dropped their thústhla on the ground, (being) struck with a bouplêx by men-slaying Lykourgos. (Homer, Iliad 6.136)

The word bouplêx can either be translated “double-axe” or “ox-goad” while there’s greater ambiguity surrounding thústhla. Most scholars consider it a primitive νάρθηξ or θύρσος (bonus points if you know the difference without googling it) but Emperor Julian the Pious uses it of a bunch of sticks or rods:

Is not this deed worthy of the pit? Shouldn’t those who approve of such things be driven out like the pharmakoi not just struck with rods (θύσθλοις) — for the penalty is too light for the crimes — but put to death by stoning? (Or. 7.209d)

This was a fate which Sokrates often suffered:

Owing to his vehemence in argument, men set upon him with their fists or tore his hair out or beat him with sticks; and that for the most part he was despised and laughed at, yet bore all this ill-usage patiently. (Diogenes Laërtius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers 5.21)

Indeed, one might even say that it was a fate the son of Sophroniskos the sculptor and Phainaréte the midwife was born to:

He was born, according to Apollodoros in his Chronology, during the archonship of Apsephion in the fourth year of the 77th Olympiad, on the sixth day of Thargelion, when the Athenians purify their city and the Delians say that Artemis was born. (5.44)

During Thargelia the Athenians enacted one of their most primitive and brutal rites, the expulsion of the φαρμακοι:

They used to pick out two men at Athens to be purifiers of the city during the Thargelia, one representing the men, one the women. That Pharmakos is also a proper name is clear: for he stole the sacred bowls of Apollo, was convicted, and was stoned to death by Achilles and his men – events which what happens at the Thargelia are meant to imitate. Istros tells the story. When Demosthenes in the speech Against Aristogeiton says “so this is the man, the scapegoat, who will beg him off.” Demosthenes in the second speech Against Stephanos also has “drugged”. Someone “drugged” has been harmfully affected by drugs, as Theophrastos indicates in book 15 of Laws. (Suda s.v. Pharmakós)

According to Helladios of Alexandria (as preserved in Photius Biblitheca 279) an alternate name for such individuals was συβάκχοι:

It was the custom at Athens to lead two pharmakoi, one on behalf of the men, and one on behalf of the women, and these were led for purification. And the pharmakos for the men had black figs around the neck, and the other one had white figs. He says that they were called subakchoi. And this cleansing served to ward off plagues of disease, and it took its beginning from Androgeus the Cretan, because the Athenians were afflicted with a plague of disease when he died unjustly in Athens, and this custom began to be in force, to always cleanse the city with pharmakoi.

Oh, but wait. There’s more!

Anyone recall the name of Sokrates’ accuser? 

No, not Anytos who was “roused to anger on behalf of the craftsmen and politicians” — nor Meletos who represented the interests of the poets. I mean the guy who was pissed on behalf of the rhetoricians and sophists. 

Lykon. The Wolf.

Κύκλοι, και τα λοιπά.

Oh, and because I haven’t been pedantic enough: some scholars believe that θύσθλα comes from the Greek θύω meaning “sacrifice, to burn” — which connects it to Thyonê, Thyia and the Thyiades. (As well as Charilla — note the tossing into the ravine and the arrogant king who gets trounced by the Bull because Dionysos is even more badass.)

Not too shabby for a joke I came up with while getting high and listening to Puscifer in the wee dawn hours. My first one was just gonna be a play on “wand” and “male genitalia” or “dildos” which Dionysos is the proud inventor of. Not surprising since he’s a gay God:

On one Salona relief the rites of Liber are shown, with various figures taking part, shown in several rows. The relief slab has a simple moulding, where the dedicatory epigraph is carved – DEO LAETO – to the Merry God, i.e. Liber. In the first row is a piper, in front of whom is a maenad in dance, moments that show off her fluttering clothing. Then there is a figure with a basket or vessel from which winds a snake, chthonic creature very indicative in the procession of the mystery cult. The next row is preserved only in the upper parts of the figures, of a person bearing an animal over his shoulder, probably a kid to be sacrificed, and a female figure with her hands on her abdomen. In the last and third row only the head of one figure is to be discerned. The relief depiction of the cult ceremony of an agrarian character was made by a local artist who was faithfully transmitting the essential elements of the participants in the procession celebrating the god of vegetation and nature – Liber. (Jasna Jeličić Radonić, The Cult of Dionysus or Liber: Votive Monuments in Salona)

You must respect my restraint, dear reader. I didn’t make a single narthēkophóroi joke. Not one! And I even set that shit up with the Sokrates post.

Anyway, here’s some more Dionysian eye-candy. Enjoy!

He sure puts the ἐπίθεσθε in the θύρας δ’ ἐπίθεσθε βέβηλοι, now don’t he?

For those of you in the Massachusetts area looking for a fun way to celebrate ὕβρις month they’re planning a fabulous Bacchic κῶμος on June 24th. The organizers encourage folks to “dress in your best Dionysian regalia and dance in celebration of our beautiful, diverse, wild community” with the following helpful suggestions: “leopard print, togas, wands, pine cones, laurel wreaths, grape vines and leaves, goblets, satyrs, bells, colors of purple, red, green, and gold.” They promise to provide “purple ribbons, eco-friendly glitter, bubbles, music.” This sounds like so much fun. But alas, I am tabooed from wearing anything other than white, red and black so I just don’t think I’ll be able to pull off that whole purple, red and green combo. Thankfully I have my own glitter and bubbles. But I do wish them unfettered success and if you would like to join in the revelry here is their information. 

I was thinking about Sokrates tonight, truly one of the παῦροι βάκχοι (“Bacchic few.”) Throughout his dialogues Plato often makes allusion to Dionysian myth and festivals, particularly when he wants to score a dramatic point; he also has his hero demonstrate a more than casual familiarity with Orphism, for instance in Charmides 155B-157C where Sokrates prescribes a leaf-charm to cure headache, or Kratylos 400b where he quotes the famous σῶμα σῆμα (“body is a tomb/sign”) symbolon. One of the most profound and beautiful of these allusions often goes unnoticed. In the Phaido Plato has Sokrates characterize philosophers as those who ἐπιτηδεύουσιν… ἀποθνήσκειν τε καὶ τεθνάναι (“cultivate nothing but dying and death.”) The dialogue progresses with Oschophoria in the background, a harvest festival honoring Apollon and Dionysos which was instituted by Theseus upon his triumphant return to Athens after slaying Asterios the Minotaur. (You can learn more about it here.) Three rites of this festival are mirrored in the dialogue: a foot-race (61b), the telling of consoling stories (61d) and a victory-libation among friends, like the deadly φάρμακον Sokrates quaffs surrounded by his companions and students. The most interesting part comes after that: upon drinking the hemlock, Sokrates looks up and flashes his eyes “in a bull-like (ταυρηδόν) fashion.” This has, appropriately so, a double meaning. It not only identifies Sokrates with the Ταυροπόν (“Bull-faced”) and Ταυροκέρος Θεός  (“Bull-horned God”) Dionysos — but this was also one of the gestures by which the sacrificial animal consented to being slaughtered for the good of the πόλις-community. This makes Sokrates’ death into a voluntary act of self-offering to cleanse Athens of the evils and pollution which democracy had loosed upon it. That’s … pretty fucking deep, Plato. More and more I’m coming to realize the closer the reading the richer the rewards the text contains. Sometimes you just have to tear it apart to get to the juicy center. 

I’m sorry Lactantius, but that looks like εὐσέβεια to me, not δεισιδαιμονία:

The mother of Galerius, a woman exceedingly superstitious, was a votary of the Gods of the mountains. Being of such a character she made sacrifices almost every day, and she feasted her servants on the meat offered to idols. (De Mortibus Persecutorum 11)

As I mentioned at the start of the month, Dionysos loves Asians. So it feels fitting to close the month with this passage from John of Ephesos which was quoted in the third book of the Chronicle of Zuqnin:

In the nineteenth year of the Emperor Justinian, they were busy, thanks to my zeal, with the matter of the Pagans who were discovered in Constantinople. These were illustrious and noble men, with a host of grammarians, sophists, scholastics and physicians. When they were discovered and, thanks to torture, denounced themselves, they were seized, flogged, imprisoned, and sent to the churches so that they might learn the Christian faith as was appropriate for Pagans. There were among them patricians and nobles.

Then a powerful and wealthy Pagan named Phocas, who was a patrician, saw the harshness of the inquisition and knowing that those arrested had denounced him as a Pagan, and that a severe sentence had been given against him because of the zeal of the emperor, that night took deadly poison and so left this earthly life. When the emperor heard this, he ordered with justice that he should be interred like an ass, that there should be no cortege or prayer for him. So his family during the night put him on a litter, carried him, made an open grave and threw him in it like a dead animal.

Thanks to this the Pagans were afraid for some time. Later on the goodness of god visited Asia, Caria, Lydia and Phrygia, thanks to the zeal of the victorious Justinian and by the efforts of his humble servant. So by the power of the holy spirit, 70,000 souls were instructed, and left behind the errors of Paganism, the worship of idols and the temples of the demons for the knowledge of the truth. All were converted, disavowed the errors of their ancestors, were baptized in the name of our lord Jesus Christ, and were added to the number of Christians.

The victorious Justinian paid the expenses and clothing for baptism; he also took care to give three gold pieces to each of them. When god had opened their minds and had made known the truth, they helped us with their own hands to destroy their temples, to overthrow their idols, to extirpate the sacrifices that were offered everywhere, to cut down their altars, soiled with the blood of sacrifices offered to demons, and to cut down countless trees that they worshipped because they were leaving all the errors of their ancestors.

The salutary sign of the cross was planted everywhere among them, and churches of god were founded everywhere. They were built and erected, to the number of eighty-six, with great diligence and zeal, in the high mountains and steep and in the plains, in all the places where there was Paganism. Twelve monasteries were also founded in places which were Pagan, and where the name of Christian name had never been heard from the beginning of the world until this time. Fifty-five churches were founded at public expense and forty-one at the expense of the new Christians. The victorious emperor gave them willingly, by our hands, the sacred vessels, clothes, books and brass items.

Around this time rumors circulated that Alexander had returned to the world of men, as once before he had in the tumultuous time of Cassius Dio:

Shortly before this a man that many said was a daimon — though he himself claimed to be the famous Alexander of Macedon and resembled him in looks and general attire — set out from the regions along the Ister, after somehow or other making his appearance there. He made his way through Moesia and Thrace performing Bacchic rites. He was accompanied by as many as four hundred men equipped with Bacchic wands and fawn-skins, but they harmed no one. In fact all in Thrace at the time agreed that bed and board would be provided for the man and his company at public expense. And no one — no governor, soldier, procurator or local magistrate — dared to confront or contradict him. He traveled the whole time as if in a solemn procession as far as Byzantium and then, taking ship, he made his way to the region of Chalcedon where he performed some sacred rites by night, buried a wooden horse, and then vanished completely, never to be heard from again. (Roman History 80.18.1-3)

The Ister is the Greco-Roman name for the Danube, the second largest river in Eurasia which flows from the Black Forest in the heart of Germany to the Black Sea near the border of contemporary Moldova and Ukraine.

I wonder if Cassius was drawing on the symbolism of the Thracian Rider who went by different names depending on the region, including Rhesos, Karabasmos, Keiladeinos, Manimazos, Aularchenos, Aulosadenos, Pyrmeroulas, Salenos, Pyrmerula, the Dioskouroi, Sabazios and Dionysos and later was Christianized with Saint George, Ss Sergios and Bakchos, the Archangel Michael and other Mounted Saints. Here is a fascinating study on them by Antonis Sakellariou.

The reason I bring this up is I suspect we shall hear reports of phantom hoofbeats in that part of the world as June 12th approaches. 

If you practice an Orphic-derived religion, or have done any study of the subject or ancient Hellenic religion generally, chances are you’ve encountered this fragment by Pindar preserved in Plato’s Meno 81b-c:

But for those from whom Persephone accepts requital for the ancient grief, in the ninth year she returns their souls to the upper sunlight; from them arise proud kings and men who are swift in strength and greatest in wisdom, and for the rest of time they are called sacred heroes by men. (fr. 133)

Most commentaries focus on the eschatology of the passage, the ποινή of Persephone, early concepts of the hero, and the like, but I just noticed something in the Greek, bolded for emphasis:

Φερσεφόνα ποινὰν παλαιοῦ πένθεος δέξεται, εἰς τὸν ὕπερθεν ἅλιον κείνων ἐνάτῳ ἔτεϊ ἀνδιδοῖ ψυχὰς πάλιν, ἐκ τᾶν βασιλῆες ἀγαυοὶ καὶ σθένει κραιπνοὶ σοφίᾳ τε μέγιστοι ἄνδρες αὔξοντ΄· ἐς δὲ τὸν λοιπὸν χρόνον ἥρωες ἁγνοὶ πρὸς ἀνθρώπων καλεῦνται.

That’s right, the “ancient grief” (παλαιοῦ πένθεος) of Persephone contains the name of Dionysos’ cousin! Which is significant, to my mind at least, since it’s far from the only word used for grief or suffering, especially in tragic and epic vocabulary. Euripides, for instance, uses πάσχειν and πάθος throughout the Bakchai, and some are even further afield. 

I am recovering nicely after a follow-up surgery at an ungodly hour this morning. When the idiots performed the amputation they left a large knob of bone, despite the protestations of my podiatrist. And, as he predicted it’s been giving me trouble, so he went ahead and finished what they started. Thankfully it was a pretty standard in-n-out procedure and I’m home recovering — no hospice full of lunatics and demoniacs this time around, woo-hoo!

The hardest part of it all was keeping down a pretty serious panic attack brought on by stupid, repetitive questions during intake (like what kind of hot sauce I had with dinner the night before, which they asked four times) but thankfully I’ve got Dionysos, my early Buddhist training, and the support of my beautiful, strong and wise wife to draw upon so I managed to make it through without completely embarrassing myself. Let me tell you, folks, medically-induced PTSD fucking sucks. One moment you’re calm and perfectly in control and the next your body does all of this crazy shit without bothering to consult you. (I’d rather not scream at nurses while my heart’s beating like a tympanum and there’s so much adrenaline pumping through my system I can taste it, thank you very much. Even if they deserved it, Fucking White people and their inability to handle spice.) In addition to the capable hands of my podiatrist I have one of the most skilled and Gods blessed herbalists I’ve ever seen, so recovery should be a breeze.

My primary concern at this point is that the recovery process is going to impact my ability to complete the ἱερὸς νόμος by the noumenia of Prosopon. When I decided on that date for the relaunch the surgery was scheduled for July or late June if something opened up. I figured if I busted my ass I’d have everything put together by the noumenia, and a couple weeks of this new style of devotion under my belt before I had to make post-surgical accommodations. Then the opportunity presented itself, and I figured it made more sense to seize it than wait, especially with the trouble the foot’s been giving me. Well, I’m not going back on my pact with Dionysos — in the end all a man’s got is his word, especially when it comes to the Gods — so that just means I’ll have to bust ass even harder. Or work smarter and simply focus on the material I’ll need to start up this practice, finishing the rest as I’m able. And, despite the time crunch it is definitely better this way because I won’t be starting the practice, stopping, and picking it back up again. So there’s that. Ultimately I don’t really care — I just don’t want to disappoint Dionysos.

So I won’t. Tomorrow it’s back to the grindstone after spending the day relaxing and recuperating just like my doctor told me to. (Technically he prescribed bed rest for a week, but I think we all understood that was never going to happen.)

At this point I figure I can let y’all in on the secret I alluded to in the previous post. I have been running the Hudson Valley Bakcheion now for five years, which just doesn’t seem possible but my records confirm it. In that time my practice has seen ups and downs, depending on external circumstances and especially things like my health. Since I am generally feeling better I want to do more for Dionysos and the Gods and Spirits associated with him, and so I stripped it all back to the bone and codified a system of temple cultus for the Starry Bull tradition, which I then compiled in a document entitled The ἱερὸς νόμος of the Hudson Valley Bakcheion. The schedule of devotions prescribed therein will take effect on the next New Moon, and two of those are pertinent to y’all. On the Second of each Month I am going to make offerings to Dionysos Lusios and bring before him the prayers and petitions of the community. A couple days before the Noumenia I’ll put out an open call and anyone is welcome to send in whatever you’d like to say to or ask of the God, regardless of your affiliation with the temple and degree of dedication to Dionysos. And on the Thirteenth of each Month I will make offerings to Dionysos Eubouleos and do divination or oracular consultations for the community, depending on where we’re at in the Calendar. (Open call on the First.) Anyone who wishes to receive the sage counsel of the God may do so, regardless of your affiliation with the temple or ability to pay. (Though donations, which will go towards the upkeep and operation of the temple, will very much be appreciated.) Later on I will share the full schedule in case folks want to line their devotions up with those of the Hudson Valley Bakcheion. Although most of my community-building efforts are going to be directed at finding and cultivating folks locally going forward, I figure the more the merrier when it comes to βακχεία, right?! Io evohe! Io io Dionysos!

Reading Jacco Dieleman’s guide to studying the Greco-Egyptian Zauberpapyri and came across the following, which amused me, both “birdglyphic” and the attempt to replicate the enchanting language of falcons. I wonder what prayers the chattering jay offers to Dionysos. 

This discourse mode is not limited to human languages, though. The sounds of animals and nature are equally well suited to supplicate the divine:

I call upon you, lord, in birdglyphic: ARAI; in hieroglyphic: LAÏLAM; in Hebrew: ANOCH BIATHIARBATH BERBIR ECHILATOUR BOUPHROUMTROM; in Egyptian: ALDABAEIM; in baboonic: ABRASAX; in falconic: CHI CHI CHI CHI CHI CHI CHI TIPH TIPH TIPH; in hieratic: MENEP HŌÏP HŌTH CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA. (PGM 81–86, cf. 149–60, 454–70 and 593–98)

This morning I was reading about Markos the Magician, a Gnostic Christian and Neo-Pythagorean who was loathed so much by Irenaeus of Lyons that he spent a significant chunk of his Adversus Haereses besmirching the man’s personal life and lampooning his elaborate, syncretic cosmotheology. In it Yahweh (equated with a personified Tetraktys, the Platonic Demiurge and likely Zeus or Hermes) is alone in the vast emptiness, contemplating his own mind, when he opens his mouth and speaks the letters of the Greek alphabet into existence. Not only were these the στοιχεία or elemental building-blocks of material existence, but each letter — going beyond the canonical 24 to include the archaic digamma (ϝ), qopa (ϙ), and sampi (ϡ) among others — not only had its own δυνάμεις (powers) and φρένες (intelligence) they also were/were overseen by a pantheon of Gods and Angels. All of which was pretty interesting (especially since he was an itinerant wonder-worker who likely traveled in the same circles as the Orphikoi) until it started getting into a bunch of math stuff and I zoned out. When I came to I was staring at a fascinating passage that reminded me of Parmenides, Empedokles, the Olbian Bone Tablets and the katabasis and encounter with the Sentries recounted in the Gold Leaves.

θέλω δέ σοι καὶ αὐτὴν ἐπιδεῖξαι τὴν Ἀλήθειαν. Κατήγαγον γὰρ αὐτὴν ἐκ τῶν ὕπερθεν δωμάτων, ἵν’ ἐσίδῃς αὐτὴν γυμνὴν, καὶ καταμάθοις τὸ κάλλος αὐτῆς· ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀκούσῃς αὐτῆς λαλούσης, καὶ θαυμάσῃς τὸ φρόνημα αὐτῆς. Ὅρα οὖν κεφαλὴν ἄνω, τὸ ἄλφα καὶ τὸ ω, τράχηλον δὲ β καὶ ψ, ὤμους ἅμα χερσὶ γ καὶ phi; χ, στήθη δ καὶ φ, διάφραγμα ε καὶ υ, νῶτον ζ καὶ τ, κοιλίαν η καὶ σ, μηροὺς θ καὶ ρ, γόνατα ι καὶ π, κνήμας κ καὶ ο, σφυρὰ λ καὶ ξ, πόδας μ καὶ ν. 

I also wish to show you Truth herself. I have brought her down from the dwellings on high that you might look on her naked and examine closely her beauty, and indeed that you may also hear her speak and marvel at her wisdom. See, then, alpha and omega are her head on high;  beta and psi are her neck; gamma and chi are her shoulders and hands; her breast is delta and epsilon and upsilon are her diaphragm; zeta and tau are her stomach; eta and sigma are her private parts; theta and rho are her thighs; iota and pi are her knees; kappa and omicron are her legs; lambda and xi are her ankles; mu and nu are her feet.

.My first thought was, “Oh, very cool. Δ = Διόνυσος is on Aletheia’s breast, above her heart.”

My second thought was, “Niiiiice. Σ = Σαννίων is on her private parts.”

Once I stopped doing my best Beavis and Butt-Head impression about 20 minutes later my third thought was that this could be some valuable spiritual tech. And then dismissed that because I’ve already worked out a soul parts system for the Starry Bull tradition. So I closed the website and went downstairs to make coffee and tea for our household, and take my morning regimen of pills, vitamins, herbal tinctures and the like, which were especially necessary since I was in excruciating pain thanks to the lovely spring showers I’d been watching all morning. As I shambled about the kitchen it started to dawn on me that I am, indeed, a fucking idiot. 

Markos was a Neo-Pythagorean — that’s how this tech was meant to be used!

While his friends were in good health Pythagoras always conversed with them; if they were sick, he nursed them; if they were afflicted in mind, he solaced them, some by incantations and magic charms, others by music. He had prepared songs for the diseases of the body, by singing which he cured the sick. He had also some that caused forgetfulness of sorrow, mitigation of anger, and destruction of lust. (Porphyry, Life of Pythagoras 33)

I’m going to experiment with it, tinker around a bit and maybe incorporate the Pythagorean Table of Opposites or astrology (12 pairs of letters = 12 signs of the Zodiac, etc) and if it works I’ll be adding it to the growing body of Starry Bull praxis.

And if you’d like to learn more about Markos the Magician, click here. The good stuff starts at chapter 13. Just keep in mind that Irenaeus is a total prick…

But there is another among these heretics, Marcus by name, who boasts himself as having improved upon his master. He is a perfect adept in magical impostures, and by this means drawing away a great number of men, and not a few women, he has induced them to join themselves to him, as to one who is possessed of the greatest knowledge and perfection, and who has received the highest power from the invisible and ineffable regions above. Thus it appears as if he really were the precursor of Antichrist. For, joining the buffooneries of Anaxilaus to the craftiness of the magi, as they are called, he is regarded by his senseless and cracked-brain followers as working miracles by these means.

2. Pretending to consecrate cups mixed with wine, and protracting to great length the word of invocation, he contrives to give them a purple and reddish colour, so that Charis, who is one of those that are superior to all things, should be thought to drop her own blood into that cup through means of his invocation, and that thus those who are present should be led to rejoice to taste of that cup, in order that, by so doing, the Charis, who is set forth by this magician, may also flow into them. Again, handing mixed cups to the women, he bids them consecrate these in his presence. When this has been done, he himself produces another cup of much larger size than that which the deluded woman has consecrated,) and pouting from the smaller one consecrated by the woman into that which has been brought forward by himself, he at the same time pronounces these words: “May that Chaffs who is before all things, and who transcends all knowledge and speech, fill thine inner man, and multiply in thee her own knowledge, by sowing the grain of mustard seed in thee as in good soil.” Repeating certain other like words, and thus goading on the wretched woman [to madness], he then appears a worker of wonders when the large cup is seen to have been filled out of the small one, so as even to overflow by what has been obtained from it. By accomplishing several other similar things, he has completely deceived many, and drawn them away after him.

3. It appears probable enough that this man possesses a demon as his familiar spirit, by means of whom he seems able to prophesy, and also enables as many as he counts worthy to be partakers of his Charis themselves to prophesy. He devotes himself especially to women, and those such as are well-bred, and elegantly attired, and of great wealth, whom he frequently seeks to draw after him, by addressing them in such seductive words as these: “I am eager to make thee a partaker of my Charis, since the Father of all doth continually behold thy angel before His face. Now the place of thy angel is among us: it behoves us to become one. Receive first from me and by me [the gift of] Chaffs. Adorn thyself as a bride who is expecting her bridegroom, that thou mayest be what I am, and I what thou art. Establish the germ of light in thy nuptial chamber. Receive from me a spouse, and become receptive of him, while thou art received by him. Behold Charis has descended upon thee; open thy mouth and prophesy.” On the woman replying,” I have never at any time prophesied, nor do I know how to prophesy;” then engaging, for the second time, in certain invocations, so as to astound his deluded victim, he says to her, “Open thy mouth, speak whatsoever occurs to thee, and thou shalt prophesy.”

Note the importance of the cup? Also, I suspect that Markos’ Χάρις is the Acquired Goddess. 

Happy νουμηνία everybody!

Unless things have significantly changed since my ostracism, most contemporary Hellenic polytheists observe some variation of the Attic calendar, meaning that for them Thargelion (Θαργηλιών) has just begun — but according to the system we use in the Bakcheion it’s the month of Kantharos (Κάνθαρος), the sacred cup of Dionysos. In fact the God is so strongly associated with this particular style of drinking vessel — famed for its elongated handles — that it’s often used to identify him on vases, frescoes, sculptures and the like when names or other distinguishing characteristics are absent.

In myth the cup was said to have been created by Hephaistos in gratitude for the role Dionysos played in his reconciliation with Hera and readmittance to Olympos (not to be confused with the urn Hephaistos also made Dionysos, which was then gifted to the Goddess Beneath the Sea Thetis for the kind assistance she gave during his fight with Lykourgos, which unfortunately was destined to hold the bones and ashes of her beloved son Achilles and not his care-banishing φάρμακον.) Bearing Dionysos’s blessing the cup was said to be impossible to drain, even by as thirsty a hero as Herakles. In a related myth Herakles borrowed the cup and used it to sail across the ocean.

Archaic poets such as Archilochos and Pindar, by metaphor and metonymy, referred to the kantharos as the “shield of Dionysos” and shields as the “kantharos of Ares,” while comic poets played up the fact that in Greek kantharos can also refer to a beetle, specifically the dung-beetle which was the form that the Egyptian God Khepri (“Becoming” or “Manifestation,” like the Orphic Phanês Protogonos) took when he rolled the aged solar deity Rē up the primordial mountain so that he could be reborn at dawn. (Which makes an interesting parallel with the Herakles myth, since I believe that he was ferrying Helios across the ocean in the borrowed kantharos.)

Orphic, Pythagorean and Platonic authors gave mystic, metaphysical and political significance to the cup and mixing-bowl (or krater) of Dionysos, which is too weird and tangential to get into here, though I was mulling over some of it this morning as I greeted Eos and watched the lovely ῥοδοδάκτυλος θεά drive the darkness back through the dense trees outside the window above my writing desk.

I also contemplated the Year Divination I did during our Foundation Day celebration and specifically what Dionysos said the month of Kantharos would hold in store for us. If you recall, he compared it to Ρ (Rho) the letter overseen by the magnificent mother Goddess Rheia who was one of the τροφοί (“nurses”) of Dionysos, and according to Philodemos and Euphorion either put the pieces of bibulous baby Bakchos back together after the Titans tore him apart, or brought them to Delphi where they were stored beneath the sacred tripod of Apollon Pythios. Plato in the Kratylos (402b) derives her name from ῥέω (“flow, flux, stream”) and Orphic and Homeric speculation about the liquid, oceanic element being the origin and outflow of all things, from the Gods on down. He also connects it to Herakleitos’ famous maxim, though later in the dialogue (509a) instead of the normal πάντα ῥεῖ (“everything flows”) Plato gives it as πάντα χορεί (“everything dances”) which he clearly got from listening to Jim Morrison. (You know how he loved that New Music.)

According to the Starry Bull Alphabet Oracle, the letter Ρ signifies:

Rabasso (ῤᾰβάσσω) to make a noise by dancing or beating time with the feet.
Radis (ῤάδις) cyclical, whirling, rotation.
Riza (ῤίζα) root, element, outflow.
Rimma (ῤιμμα) throw, cast, swing.
Roomai (ῤώομαι) to move with speed or violence, to rush on, forceful.

That should sure make for an interesting month, especially when that month is inundated with the ever-flowing wine from Dionysos’ kantharos.

So … what project am I working on?

While I’m not ready to talk about it just yet, I can say that it will affect the future of the Bakcheion and the Starry Bull tradition more generally. Gods willing, I should be ready to announce and begin implementing these changes by the Noumenia of Prosopon (June 19th, by the common reckoning.) I would have preferred that it be the Noumenia of Kantharos, but since that’s just two days away I think that a rather unrealistic expectation — which is probably for the best, as this extra month will give me time to prepare, practice and pick up any remaining supplies I’ll require for this. Plus there is a certain appropriateness to doing this during the Month of Masks, I must say.

And I must also say, though it pains me to admit it … sometimes grey hair does bring wisdom; younger me would have said, “Fuck it,” and spent the next 48 hours cramming to get everything done just to meet that arbitrary deadline, without bothering to sleep, eat, or take care of other necessities; and then I’d probably crash and snore my way through the big day. Though I may be taking my time, that means I’m going to do this right and it’s just too important not to. Both Dionysos, and you guys deserve no less than my absolute best. Ἀρετή, bitches.

It’s hard not to spill though. This is gonna be so much fun!

Since I discovered the most recent Sannion I’ve encountered the word αἰδοῖον somewhere between five and seven times. It literally means “the shameful part” but came to be the common term for genitalia, and the male member in particular — though interestingly it informed the development of Latin pudendum which today is mostly used for female genitalia. It also influenced Old English scamlim, which has to be one of my favorite names for the penis: “shame-limb.”

Now, in fairness two of those instances were the result of reading Marco Antonio Santamaría’s A Phallus Hard to Swallow (about dynastic succession in the Orphic Theogony discussed in the Derveni Papyrus) and The Power of the Phallus in Greek Divination by Salvatore Costanza (which definitely delivers on its evocative title) so it’s only to be expected – but that doesn’t really explain the other instances, especially a couple of them where I was researching subjects completely (or at least mostly) unrelated to the Dionysian and ithyphallicism. I can’t say it’s been an uninteresting intellectual detour, but I’m a μάντις so I tend to pay attention to patterns such as this. (I’d share links but I’m curious what comes up when y’all google “phallus,” “hard” and “swallow.” For science.)

Well, I now know a whole lot more about Greek and Italian penises (a subject I was already intimately familiar with) so that’s good, but I still haven’t found the appropriate term for a divination manual, which is what prompted this morning’s plunge into that particular rabbit’s hole. The closest I’ve come is βίβλους τὰς περὶ τῆς μαντικῆς from Isokrates’ Aiginetikos 5-6, which I can always shorten to περὶ τῆς μαντικῆς or περὶ μαντικόν, though I’m not sure this hits the right note for the project I’m working on. But have no fear, for I am on the hunt. In the meantime, here’s that passage:

Thrasyllos, the father of the testator, had inherited nothing from his parents; but having become the guest-friend of Polemaenetos, the soothsayer, he became so intimate with him that Polemaenetos at his death left to him his books on divination and gave him a portion of the property which is now in question. Thrasyllos, with these books as his capital, practiced the art of divination. He became an itinerant soothsayer, lived in many cities, and was intimate with several women.

I just came across another Sannion, which is usually a momentous occasion, foreshadowing some new peripeteia in my spiritual life. I don’t think that’s what this one is gonna be, but it was still cool.

F 83 Stele of Sannion
NM 2567.
Found at Liopesi, Attica.
Dimensions: H 0.70, W 0.295.
Date: 375-350 BC.
Inscription: Σαννίων (IG II2 12582).
Relief: The stele is crowned by a rounded finial. Sannion, a boy, wears a himation over his left shoulder and arm. He holds a bird in right hand and is also accompanied by a small dog.
Bibliography: Fragiadakis 1986: no.57; CAT 0.883.