ErN 155, Jeff
Matthews entry Oct 2009
update: May 2014
The Incomplete Idiot’s Guide to
Misinterpreting Classical
Iconography
Within the fine Farnese collection at the National Archaeological Museum of
Naples is this statue of Artemis of Ephesus (photo).
Unlike most of the pieces in the collection, which are
Roman copies of Greek originals, Artemis is a Roman
creation and is from the 2nd century AD.
Artemis was one of the
most widely venerated deities in ancient Greece; she was
the Hellenic goddess of (among other things) forests and
hills, fertility and the hunt. “Luxurious” doesn’t begin
to do justice to the work. It is a complex ensemble of
Roman iconography and the result of a revitalization of
the cult of Artemis promoted by Roman emperors Trajan and
Hadrian. Some of the statue is the result of modern
restoration (for example, the head, hands and feet, all in
bronze, are 19th-century restorations by Giuseppe Valadier
[1762-1839], one of the chief exponents of Neoclassicism
in Italy. Also, the crown on the head is modern.) The veil
that falls down in soft folds at the back appears
stiffened to form a disc on which lion and griffon heads
appear to float. Around the neck, the goddess wears a
pectoral in the shape of a half-moon, enclosed by a
garland of helichrysum and a necklace with acorn-like
pendants. Within them is a complex scene depicted in
relief. Two pairs of winged female figures converge
towards the center, bearings palms and crowns, symbols of
victory. Interwoven with them are signs of the zodiac:
Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer and Leo.
At that point, the
fun started. When I first saw the statue, I said
what Any Normal Male My Age (or Any Age) (ANMMAoAA) would
say: “Wow. Look at those!” I don’t think I said that out
loud. What I recall saying (for the benefit of the
unlettered dolts standing near me) was, “Ahem, look at
that complex ensemble of Roman iconography, the result of
a revitalization of the cult of Artemis promoted by Roman
emperors Trajan and Hadrian.” But what I was really
thinking was, Wow. Look
at those! Then, again, I did what ANMMAoAA would
do —I counted them. Twenty-one. Quickly, I saw that this
was the eighth number in the standard Fibonacci sequence.
I would, myself, solve this or perhaps some similar
mathematical puzzler sent to us by ancient Rome, riddle it
all through to a grand conclusion and send a friendly but
authoritative note to Martin Gardner, the grandest
puzzlemeister of all. He would thank me with a kind note,
and that would make my day.
My sister, who was visiting the exhibit with me, suggested
that I should read the explanatory note near the statue
again. Impatiently, I did so. Oh. I had read an extra Freudian R into
the text; it really said “the goddess of Nature” and
“Mother of b-e-a-s-t-s.”
It went on to explain that “the bust of the statue is
covered with four rows of rounded protuberances, wrongly
interpreted as the goddess’ breasts. In fact they
represent the scrota of bulls, victims of sacrifice.”
I was crushed. Well, one boob is certain. Me.
update:
May 2014. This will make no sense unless you read
the item above ... and even then!
Scholars Have all
the Fun!
A correspondent, Harry Eighmey,
kindly points out to me that the museum's interpretation
of this particular polymastic ('many-breasted') statue as
necessarily "representing the scrota of bulls, victims of
sacrifice" (as opposed to what everyone thinks) may be too
glib. There are even other interpretations. He sent
me two essays (cited below).
First, I proudly note that my original
interpretation was that the statue was polymastic! (And I
didn't even know what that word meant at the time.) That
word is, in fact, the term used by specialists to describe
statues of this kind; everyone says, "Look at all those
breasts." The bull scrota interpretation represents a
masculine view of the universe —bulls, balls, and blood!
That view has replaced, at least in the eyes of the Naples
museum, the older, softer, feminine interpretation that
the "things" —whatever they are— represent new life,
fertility, reproduction. If not breasts, then something
else. Mr. Eighmey is of the opinion that the bull scrota
interpretation is from the 18th century when "men were
doing all the interpreting." It occurs to me that seeing
those "things" (I'll say "things" instead of the museum's
favorite— "protuberances," an ugly word) as female breasts
is about as male an interpretation as you can
get! We're obsessed in any century. But there are
certainly possibilities other than breasts and bull
scrota, as these two essays point out.
First, the
topic of "bulbous objects" (!) (more ugliness) on statues
of this kind has generated a great amount of speculation
and literature. The book review (item 1, below) speaks of
the "hopeless guessing game of what certain details
represent. For the 'breasts' of the
statue we have a rather entertaining series of
hypotheses (not real breasts but eggs, ostrich eggs,
grapes, nuts, acorns)...[or] some kind of
garment." The reviewer lets it go at that
level of speculation.
The second item (by Hill) starts with... "A
satisfactory explanation for the exact nature and
purpose of the numerous rows of breast-like nodules on
the statues of Artemis of Ephesus has long evaded
Classical scholarship." (Nodules? I didn't
think it could get any uglier.) Hill adds 'bee eggs' to
the list of possibilities. He concedes that "the
polymastic feature of the icon is best associated with
fertility..." for various reasons. For example, "...the
goddess Artemis of Ephesus has more in common with the
Great Mother cult of Anatolia...[she was]...a fecundity
figure and a fertility goddess." Keen observers of breasts
and classical statuary will note that there is a conflict
here between the soft benevolence of fertility and the
violence of sacrificing a bull. Hill seems to come down
somewhere squarely in the middle by relating the Artemis
cult of Ephesus to the Amazons, the tribe of fierce female
warriors, who in mythology are said to have founded the
city of Ephesus, itself. (Tough ladies, indeed; they are
said to have performed one-sided mastectomies on
themselves so they could shoot a bow better! Hey, bulls,
balls and blood? Not a problem.) Thus, "...this
suggests that at least early on, the Artemis cult of
Ephesus was associated with military motifs, in addition
to, if not apart from, fertility motifs."
So maybe you can have your cake (breasts) and eat
it (bull scrota), too! (uh...maybe those "things"
represent mixed metaphors.) Hill closes by buying into the
military side in a strange way, by accepting the idea
proposed by the German author, Fleischer, of the article
reviewed in item 1 (below); the "pseudo-polymastic"
array is, in reality, a garment, some sort of stylized
scale armor worn by warriors, gods and goddesses in Egypt
and Mesapotamia...made of either interlocking rings of
bronze or small elongated scales of bronze tied together
with leather thongs in overlapped rows.
...The suggestion here is that
the pectoral ornaments...of the prototype Ishtar
figurines were accidentally, or more likely
deliberately, fused or blended artistically with the erimmatu
(necklaces of egg-shaped beads) in the icon as
exaggerated human breasts. This feature may have
developed gradually as the veneration of the Artemis
image in Anatolia shifted from a military to a
fertility emphasis. [Emphasis added.] ...The
bulbous nature [of the pectoral ornaments] is no doubt
an imitation of human breasts.
Yes, it's speculation,
but "at the very least," Hill says, "it seems as plausible
as the ostrich egg and bull gonad theories!"
p.s. Mr. Eighmey favors
the bee egg theory. He describes himself as a desert
hermit and disciple of Pythagoras. That is what living
too long in the desert (he's from Phoenix) will do to
you. Harry, you gotta get out more.
p.p.s. My own scholarly view is that
those softly rounded yet firm and pert, proudly
pouting "things" of beauty are really mozzarellas, but
then maybe that's what living too long in Naples will
do to you. I gotta get out more.
p.p.p.s. Pirandello wrote a play called
Così è (se vi pare) [That's the way it is
(if you think it is)]
The two sources referenced above :
- A review by Machteld J.
Mellink of "Artemis von Ephesos und Verwandte
Kultstatuen aus Anatolien und Syrien" [Artemis
of Ephesus and Related Cult Statues from
Anatolia and Syria] by Robert Fleischer. The review
appeared in the American Journal of Archaeology,
Vol. 79, No. 1 (Jan., 1975), pp. 107-108 published
by the Archaeological Institute of America.
- "Ancient Art and Artemis:
Toward Explaining the Polymastic Nature of the
Figurine" by Andrew E. Hill of Wheaton College in
Illinois. The essay appeared in Journal of the
Ancient Near Eastern Society (JANES 21, 1992)
published by the Jewish Theological Seminary of
America.
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