About two millennia ago in Thespiae at the foot of Mount Helicon, the widow Ismenodora was advising the young man Bacchon about marriage. She was about 30 years old, and he, about 19. Known as “the beautiful man {ὁ καλός},” he was the son of her dear and close woman-friend. She was counseling him to marry a young woman who was one of her relatives. Through her many and long conversations with young Bacchon, Ismenodora fell in love with him.
Ismenodora and Bacchon had a very unequal relationship. In addition to their significant differences in age and experience, she was very wealthy and noble. He had much lower social status and much less wealth. She advising him on marriage essentially positioned her as his teacher, and him, her student.[1] Current sex regulations at most colleges and universities prohibit love affairs between teachers and students.
Ismenodora was regarded as a person who adhered to norms of proper behavior. Her love for Bacchon was thus interpreted favorably:
She intended to do nothing dishonorable, but to marry publicly Bacchon and live with him as wife and husband.
{ διενοεῖτο μηδὲν ποιεῖν ἀγεννές, ἀλλὰ γημαμένη φανερῶς συγκαταζῆν τῷ Βάκχωνι. }[2]
Ismenodora never explicitly stated this intention. It seems merely to have been attributed to her as a well-regarded woman. However, even well-regarded men sometimes act wrongly. The same is surely true for women.
As has often happened for women and men throughout history, persons close to Bacchon were to decide whether he would marry Ismenodora. Belief that an individual within a familial and social void chooses “freely” whom to marry is a modern myth. Family and friends have always shaped persons’ marital choices. So it was for the young man Bacchon:
The situation itself appeared extraordinary. Bacchon’s mother had misgivings that the dignity and splendor of Ismenodora’s household were too grand to suit her loved one. … Bacchon was still a minor, and he himself felt shy about marrying a widow. Nevertheless, he ignored the other men and left the decision to Pisias and Anthemion. Anthemion was his older cousin, while Pisias was the most sober of the men who loved him.
{ παραδόξου δὲ τοῦ πράγματος αὐτοῦ φανέντος, ἥ τε μήτηρ ὑφεωρᾶτο τὸ βάρος τοῦ οἴκου καὶ τὸν ὄγκον ὡς οὐ κατὰ τὸν ἐραστόν … ᾐδεῖτο γὰρ ἔφηβος ἔτ᾿ ὢν χήρᾳ συνοικεῖν. οὐ μὴν ἀλλὰ τοὺς ἄλλους ἐάσας παρεχώρησε τῷ Πεισίᾳ καὶ τῷ Ἀνθεμίωνι βουλεύσασθαι τὸ συμφέρον, ὧν ὁ μὲν ἀνεψιὸς αὐτοῦ ἦν πρεσβύτερος, ὁ δὲ Πεισίας αὐστηρότατος τῶν ἐραστῶν· }
Bacchon allowing others to arrange whether he would marry Ismenodora might be interpreted as indicating his passivity. That’s a regrettably prevalent ideological construct. The mother of the Byzantine Emperor typically arranged his marriage even though he was active enough to engage in vicious Byzantine politics and lead armies in battle. The woman now called Saint Cecilia apparently married to satisfy her family and friends. She was a strong, independent woman within marriage. Bacchon’s decision to allow Pisias and Anthemion to decide whether he would marry Ismenodora doesn’t imply that Bacchon was characteristically passive.
Like many academics today, Pisias focused on domination and subordination. He interpreted the inequality of Ismenodora and Bacchon to imply domination and subordination within their proposed marriage:
I must say that the young man must beware of the lady’s wealth. If we were to plunge him into such grandeur and luster, we might unwittingly make him disappear, as tin disappears when mixed with copper. It would be boastworthy if a young man of his age were to marry a simple, unassuming woman and yet keep his quality unchanged in the union, like wine mixed with water. But as for this woman, we can see her determination to command and to dominate. Otherwise, she would hardly have rejected so many eminent, noble, and wealthy suitors to woo a lad who has not yet discarded his military cloak, a young man who still needs a teacher.
{ ὅτι τῆς γυναικὸς ὁ πλοῦτός ἐστι φυλακτέος τῷ νεανίσκῳ, μὴ συμμίξαντες αὐτὸν ὄγκῳ καὶ βάρει τοσούτῳ λάθοιμεν ὥσπερ ἐν χαλκῷ κασσίτερον ἀφανίσαντες. μέγα γὰρ ἂν ἐλαφρᾷ καὶ λιτῇ γυναικὶ μειρακίου συνελθόντος εἰς ταὐτὸν ἡ κρᾶσις οἴνου δίκην ἐπικρατήσῃ· ταύτην δ᾿ ὁρῶμεν ἄρχειν καὶ κρατεῖν δοκοῦσαν· οὐ γὰρ ἂν ἀπορρίψασα δόξας καὶ γένη τηλικαῦτα καὶ πλούτους ἐμνᾶτο μειράκιον ἐκ χλαμύδος, ἔτι παιδαγωγεῖσθαι δεόμενον. }[3]
In an ancient Greek tragedy, a husband had an unloving wife. She apparently had much money. He said to her:
You hate me? I can lightly bear your hate
and make material gain in my dishonored state.{ μισεῖς; ἐγὼ δὲ ῥᾳδίως μισήσομαι,
πρὸς κέρδος ἕλκων τὴν ἐμὴν ἀτιμίαν. }[4]
Material gain and hate is certainly better than material loss and hate. Moreover, learned men in the ancient world recognized that even base-born, impecunious women can come to dominate their husbands:
We know that many men have been abject slaves of impecunious, low-status women. Samian flute-girls, banquet dancers, and women like Aristonicae, Oenanthê with her tambourine, and Agathoclea have trampled on the crowns of kings.
{ ταύταις ἴσμεν οὐκ ὀλίγους αἴσχιστα δουλεύσαντας. αὐλητρίδες δὲ Σάμιαι καὶ ὀρχηστρίδες, Ἀριστονίκα καὶ τύμπανον ἔχουσ᾿ Οἰνάνθη καὶ Ἀγαθόκλεια διαδήμασι βασιλέων ἐπέβησαν. }
In the classical Islamic world, almighty caliphs were subordinate to their beloved slave girls. Consider also Semiramis in ancient Assyria. She was a concubine to a house servant of King Ninus the Great, reputedly the founder of the Assyrian capital Nineveh. When Ninus saw Semiramis, he fell in love with her. He thus effectively lost his head:
She grew to have such power and such contempt for him that she asked to be allowed to direct the affairs of state, crowned and seated on his throne, for one day. He granted this. He issued orders for everyone to serve and obey her just as they would himself. At first her commands were moderate while she was testing the guards. Then, when she saw that there was no opposition or hesitation on their part, she ordered Ninus to be seized, put in chains, and finally put to death.
{ οὕτως ἐκράτησε καὶ κατεφρόνησεν ὥστ᾿ ἀξιῶσαι καὶ μίαν ἡμέραν αὐτὴν περιιδεῖν ἐν τῷ θρόνῳ καθεζομένην ἔχουσαν τὸ διάδημα καὶ χρηματίζουσαν. δόντος δ᾿ ἐκείνου καὶ κελεύσαντος πάντας ὑπηρετεῖν ὥσπερ αὑτῷ καὶ πείθεσθαι, μετρίως ἐχρῆτο τοῖς πρώτοις ἐπιτάγμασι, πειρωμένη τῶν δορυφόρων· ἐπεὶ δ᾿ ἑώρα μηδὲν ἀντιλέγοντας μηδ᾿ ὀκνοῦντας, ἐκέλευσε συλλαβεῖν τὸν Νῖνον εἶτα δῆσαι, τέλος δ᾿ ἀποκτεῖναι· }[5]
In marriage, a person is always at risk of spousal domination. That risk is highest for persons obsessed with dominance and subordination.
Ancient Greek authorities offered common-sense advice on how to avoid dominance in marriage. The ancient Greek iambic poet Hipponax declared:
The best marriage for a sensible man is to get
a woman’s good character as a wedding gift.
This dowry alone preserves the household.
But a man who marries a spoiled woman
…
That other man, instead of a despot, has a loyal
helper, steadfast throughout his whole life.{ γάμος κράτιστός ἐστιν ἀνδρὶ σώφρονι
τρόπον γυναικὸς χρηστὸν ἕδνον λαμβάνειν·
αὕτη γὰρ ἡ προὶξ οἰκίαν σῴζει μόνη.
ὅστις δὲ †τρυφερῶς† τὴν γυναῖκ᾿ ἄγει λαβών
…
συνεργὸν οὗτος ἀντὶ δεσποίνης ἔχει
εὔνουν, βεβαίαν εἰς ἅπαντα τὸν βίον. }[6]
The ancient Greek philosopher Plutarch explained:
Through his self-control, wisdom, and by not being overwhelmed by anything about her, a husband must make himself his wife’s equal and not enslaved by her.
{ ἑαυτὸν ἐγκρατείᾳ καὶ φρονήσει καὶ τῷ μηθὲν ἐκπεπλῆχθαι τῶν περὶ ἐκείνην ἴσον παρέχειν καὶ ἀδούλωτον }
Marriage of course is challenging in practice for young spouses:
Young persons find it difficult to fuse and blend well with each other, and only with much time do they let go of their arrogance and self-assertion. At first they storm and struggle — and even more so if erotic love arises. Just as a high wind upsets a boat without a pilot, so erotic love makes stormy and chaotic a marriage of two people who both cannot command and neither will obey.
{ δύσμικτα γὰρ τὰ νέα καὶ δυσκέραστα καὶ μόλις ἐν χρόνῳ πολλῷ τὸ φρύαγμα καὶ τὴν ὕβριν ἀφίησιν, ἐν ἀρχῇ δὲ κυμαίνει καὶ ζυγομαχεῖ καὶ μᾶλλον ἂν Ἔρως ἐγγένηται καθάπερ πνεῦμα κυβερνήτου μὴ παρόντος ἐτάραξε καὶ συνέχεε τὸν γάμον οὔτ᾿ ἄρχειν δυναμένων οὔτ᾿ ἄρχεσθαι βουλομένων. }[7]
Completely avoiding dominance in marriage isn’t easy. One spouse may be on top at a particular moment, and another spouse on top at another moment. Maintaining a strictly side-by-side position is burdensome and tedious. In practice, all but the most ideologically committed spouses are open to experiencing dynamically and generously a variety of positions.
Plutarch was willing to accept Bacchon being subordinate to Ismenodora in marriage. He explained:
No one is without a ruler. No one is self-determining. What is terrible about a sensible older woman piloting the life of a young man? She will be useful because of her superior intelligence. She will be sweet and affectionate because she loves him.
{ οὐδεὶς δ᾿ ἄναρκτος οὐδ᾿ αὐτοτελής, τί δεινὸν εἰ γυνὴ νοῦν ἔχουσα πρεσβυτέρα κυβερνήσει νέου βίον ἀνδρός, ὠφέλιμος μὲν οὖσα τῷ φρονεῖν μᾶλλον ἡδεῖα δὲ τῷ φιλεῖν καὶ προσηνής }
That same is true, but cannot be said, for an older man piloting the life of a younger woman. Rigid gender-equality dogma impedes beneficial unions. Don’t expect to hear that classical wisdom from today’s classicists.
Anticipating her love for him being rejected, Ismenodora kidnapped Bacchon and apparently raped him. Society commonly functions as an accomplice for women’s sexual crimes. So it was for Ismenodora in relation to Bacchon:
Ismenodora was convinced, it seems, that although Bacchon had no personal antipathy to the marriage, he was embarrassed by its detractors. She accordingly resolved not to let the young man escape. She summoned male friends who were the most vigorous and most sympathetic to her passion, together with the closest of her women friends. She organized them into a disciplined group and waited intently for the hour when Bacchon habitually left the wrestling school and walked orderly by her house. This time he, freshly oiled, approached with two or three companions. Ismenodora met him by her door. She had only to touch Bacchon’s cloak when her friends seized beautifully the beautiful one in his military cloak and sword, together carried him into the house, and immediately locked the doors. Simultaneously the women inside snatched off his military cloak and put on him a wedding garment. The servants scurried about and wreathed the doors with olive and laurel — not only Ismenodora’s doors, but Bacchon’s also. A flute-girl went out and piped her way down the lane.
{ Ἡ γὰρ Ἰσμηνοδώρα, ὡς ἔοικεν, αὐτὸν μὲν οὐκ ἀηδῶς ἔχειν οἰομένη τὸν Βάκχωνα πρὸς τὸν γάμον, αἰσχύνεσθαι δὲ τοὺς ἀποτρέποντας, ἔγνω μὴ προέσθαι τὸ μειράκιον. τῶν οὖν φίλων τοὺς μάλιστα τοῖς βίοις νεαροὺς καὶ συνερῶντας αὐτῇ καὶ τῶν γυναικῶν τὰς συνήθεις μεταπεμψαμένη καὶ συγκροτήσασα παρεφύλαττε τὴν ὥραν, ἣν ὁ Βάκχων ἔθος εἶχεν ἀπιὼν ἐκ παλαίστρας παρὰ τὴν οἰκίαν αὐτῆς παρεξιέναι κοσμίως. ὡς οὖν τότε προσῄει μετὰ δυοῖν ἢ τριῶν ἑταίρων ἀληλιμμένος, αὐτὴ μὲν ἐπὶ τὰς θύρας ἀπήντησεν ἡ Ἰσμηνοδώρα καὶ τῆς χλαμύδος ἔθιγε μόνον, οἱ δὲ φίλοι καλὸν καλῶς ἐν τῇ χλαμύδι καὶ τῇ διβολίᾳ συναρπάσαντες εἰς τὴν οἰκίαν παρήνεγκαν ἀθρόοι καὶ τὰς θύρας εὐθὺς ἀπέκλεισαν. Ἅμα δ᾿ αἱ μὲν γυναῖκες ἔνδον αὐτοῦ τὸ χλαμύδιον ἀφαρπάσασαι περιέβαλον ἱμάτιον νυμφικόν· οἰκέται δὲ περὶ κύκλῳ δραμόντες ἀνέστεφον ἐλαίᾳ καὶ δάφνῃ τὰς θύρας οὐ μόνον τὰς τῆς Ἰσμηνοδώρας ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰς τοῦ Βάκχωνος· ἡ δ᾿ αὐλητρὶς αὐλοῦσα διεξῆλθε τὸν στενωπόν. }
Describing the assailants as having seized “beautifully the beautiful one {καλός καλῶς}” suggests approval of this crime. Bacchon’s older cousin Anthemion regarded Ismenodora as a strong woman in love:
Anthemion remarked, “Such a bold stroke is certainly a strong action, really Lemnian — we can admit it since we’re by ourselves. It shows the hand of a woman very much in love. … it truly seems that some divine impulse, overpowering her human reasoning, has taken hold of the merely human woman.”
{ Ὁ δ᾿ Ἀνθεμίων, “νεανικὸν μέν,” ἔφη, “τὸ τόλμημα καὶ Λήμνιον ὡς ἀληθῶς, αὐτοὶ γάρ ἐσμεν, σφόδρ᾿ ἐρώσης γυναικός. … ἔοικε θεία τις ὄντως εἰληφέναι τὴν ἄνθρωπον ἐπίπνοια καὶ κρείττων ἀνθρωπίνου λογισμοῦ.” }
Others explained away Ismenodora’s violence against Bacchon:
Soclarus asked with a little smile, “Do you really think that it’s a case of kidnapping and rape? Isn’t it instead the plausible counter-stratagem of a sensible young man who has slipped from the clutches of his male lovers and deserted to the arms of a wealthy and beautiful woman?”
{ Καὶ ὁ Σώκλαρος ὑπομειδιῶν, “οἴει γὰρ ἁρπαγήν,” ἔφη, “γεγονέναι καὶ βιασμόν, οὐκ ἀπολόγημα Dκαὶ στρατήγημα νεανίσκου4 νοῦν ἔχοντος, ὅτι τὰς τῶν ἐραστῶν ἀγκάλας διαφυγὼν ἐξηυτομόληκεν εἰς χεῖρας καλῆς καὶ πλουσίας γυναικός” }
In short, Soclarus declared that Bacchon desired and arranged for himself to be kidnapped and (fake) raped. Today that would be regard as an outrageous claim, if he were a woman.[8] Supporters and opponents of Ismenodora’s action argued fiercely in front of her door. As a woman in gynocentric society, Ismenodora prevailed. After kidnapping Bacchon, she married him. She even publicly celebrated her marriage to him.
The widow Ismenodora loved Bacchon in the way of both Aphrodite and Eros. Love in the way of Aphrodite means sexual intercourse. In the ancient world, widows were regarded been desperately full of sexual desire. Ismenodora, however, didn’t merely desire the beautiful young man Bacchon for sex. She also loved him in the way of Eros. That means she regarded him as a beautiful person in body and mind, and she passionately desired an ongoing intimate relationship with him. In short, she wanted to marry him.
Ismenodora kidnapping and apparently raping Bacchon shows the power of love inspired by both Aphrodite and Eros. Plutarch didn’t regard Aphrodite (sexual desire) alone as sufficient to prompt major life choices:
Let us recognize that the work of Aphrodite, if Eros is not present, can be bought for a small amount of money. … Weak and easily sated is Aphrodite’s delight if Eros has not inspired it.
{ ὅτι τῆς Ἀφροδίτης τοὔργον ἔρωτος μὴ παρόντος ὤνιόν ἐστι δραχμῆς … ἀσθενὴς καὶ ἁψίκορός ἐστιν ἡ τῆς Ἀφροδίτης χάρις, Ἔρωτος μὴ ἐπιπνεύσαντος. }
Subtly undermining disparagement of men’s sexuality, Plutarch associated the (female) moon with Aphrodite and the (male) sun with Eros in a metaphor implying the feebleness of sexual intercourse without a passionate, ongoing relationship:
The moon is both earthly and heavenly, a place where the immortal is blended with the mortal. She is ineffective by herself, and she is without illumination when the sun is not shining on her, just as Aphrodite is nothing without the presence of Eros.
{ χθονία καὶ οὐρανία καὶ μίξεως χώρα τοῦ ἀθανάτου πρὸς τὸ θνητόν, ἀδρανὴς δὲ καθ᾿ ἑαυτὴν καὶ σκοτώδης ἡλίου μὴ προσλάμποντος, ὥσπερ Ἀφροδίτη μὴ παρόντος Ἔρωτος. }[9]
Love inspired by both Aphrodite and Eros can produce extraordinary acts. Camma of Galatia, with lengthy, sophisticated planning, killed the man who killed her husband. Empona of Gaul spent many nights in an underground cave with her husband when the Roman Emperor was persecuting him.[10] The powerful love of Camma and Empona — love inspired by both Eros and Aphrodite — seems to have been the type of love inspiring Ismenodora to kidnap and apparently rape Bacchon.
Kidnapping and rape should be regarded as serious wrongs even when the perpetrator is a woman and the victim is a man. Ismenodora kidnapped and apparently raped Bacchon within an ancient Greek society that strongly disfavored men marrying upwards in status and wealth. Women engaging in hypergamy, in contrast, typically isn’t a matter of social opprobrium. In addition to illustrating the power of love inspired by both Aphrodite and Eros, Ismenodora deserves credit for fostering public understanding of true gender equality.
* * * * *
Read more:
- celebrating marriage: Ausonius loved his wife Sabina
- Cato the Elder understood Pythionice’s public prominence
- Le Ménagier de Paris on bureaucratic reality in medieval marriage
Notes:
[1] The story of Ismenodora and Bacchon exists only in Plutarch’s Moralia, Amatorius / Erotikos {Ἐρωτικός} / Dialogue on Love. All the details of the story above are from Amatorius. The story has realistic details. Ismenodora and Bacchon probably were actual persons. Tsouvala (2008) Chapter 2.
Verbal conversation over time created Ismenodora’s love for Bacchon. Her love for Bacchon wasn’t love at first sight, or love at any particular sight. Campos Daroca & Romero Mariscal (2020) pp. 75-7. Id. goes as far as to claim that Ismenodora had “complete disregard for the image of her beloved.” Id. p. 77. That claim isn’t warranted. Bacchon was widely regarded as physically beautiful. As soon as Ismenodora kidnapped Bacchon, she had him dressed in a wedding garment and arranged to marry him. Her first concern wasn’t to spend many weeks talking with him. She didn’t use words to allay his reluctance to marry her. She scarcely had time for many words with him before consummating her marriage to him. The whole of Amatorius includes no words from Bacchon or Ismenodora.
[2] Plutarch, Amatorius, section 2 (Stephanus 749E), Greek text and English translation (modified) from Minar, Sandbach & Helmbold (1961). For aid in reading the ancient Greek, Hayes & Nimis (2011). Characterizing Bacchon as “the beautiful man {ὁ καλός}” is similarly from Amatorius 2 (749A).
In the translation of Minar, Sandbach & Helmbold (1961), Ismenodora intended to be Bacchon’s “companion for life.” The Greek text specifies only marriage. Even in the ancient world, divorce might occur.
Ismenodora’s love for Bacchon prompts a dialogue on the relative merits of men loving women and older men loving young men. The same debate structures the pseudo-Lucian Erotes {Ἔρωτες} / Amores / Affairs of the Heart; Achilles Tatius, Leucippe and Clitophon {Λευκιππην και Κλειτοφωντα} 2.35-38; and al-Jahiz, Inside, Outside & Back to Front / Risalah fi tafdil al-batn ‘ala al-zahr. The classical Arabic work is characteristically the most sexually oriented.
Plutarch’s Amatorius is set during the celebration of the Festivals of Eros / Erotidia {Ἐρωτίδεια} on Mount Helicon. The Erotidia, held every four years, celebrated Eros and the Muses. Mount Helicon was understood to be the home of the Muses. Thespiae, the principal city of Boeotia, was at the foot of Mount Helicon.
The dialogue of the Amatorius is plausibly set about 75 GC:
Flacelière 8–10 places composition of the Amatorius in the last ten years of Plutarch’s life and argues that he may have died as late as 127. Since the visit to Thespiae took place when Plutarch was first married and before the birth of his son (749b), and since Plutarch’s birth can be placed about 45 A.D., it is reasonable to set the occasion of the dialogue about 75 A.D.
Gutzwiller (2004) p. 404, n. 64. The text itself was probably written c. 120 GC and surely after the end of the Flavian dynasty in 96 GC. Georgiadou (2019) p. 280. On the social and historical context of the Amatorius, Tsouvala (2008).
Amatorius draws significantly on Plato’s Phaedrus and Symposium. But it develops an understanding of love significantly different from that of Plato. Brenk (2022).
All quotes from Plutarch’s Amatorius are similarly sourced. Subsequent quotes above are from Amatorius 2 (749E) (The situation itself appeared extraordinary…), 7 (752E-F) (I must say that the young man must beware…), 4 (750E) (You hate me? …), 9 (753D) (We know that many men have been abject slaves…), 9 (753D-E) (She grew to have such power and such contempt for him…), 9 (754B) (Through his self-control, wisdom…), 9 (754C-D) (Young persons find it difficult to fuse and blend well…), 9 (754D) (No one is without a ruler…), 10 (754E-755A) (Ismenodora was convinced…), 11 (755C-E) (Anthemion remarked…), 11 (755C-D) (Soclarus asked with a little smile…), 16 (759E) (Let us recognize that the work of Aphrodite…), 19 (764D) (The moon is both earthly and heavenly…).
[3] Modern scholars haven’t taken seriously Pisias’s sensible, contextually grounded concern about Ismenodora dominating Bacchon. Consider this interpretative approach:
Pisias feared that Ismenodora’s wealth and age will dominate and ultimately elide Bacchon’s sense of self, when the correct relation between husband and wife is precisely the opposite. In this sense, conjugality is a gendered status-relation of inferiority and submission.
Warren (2022) p. 137. As the Amatorius makes clear, conjugality for Plutarch wasn’t “a gendered status-relation of inferiority and submission.” That’s the “correct relation” not for Ismenodora and Bacchon, but only in a tedious, totalizing ideology of gender.
[4] Plutarch quotes these verses of tragic poetry. Their author or the play in which they were used isn’t known.
[5] For an alternate account of Semiramis, Diodorus Siculus, Historical Library / Bibliotheca historica {Βιβλιοθήκη Ἱστορική} 2.20.3ff. Semiramis is the title figure in a poem written in eleventh-century Rouen.
[6] Hipponax, Fragment 182, ancient Greek text and English translation (modified) from Gerber (1999). The text is apparently defective and discontinuous. My minor modifications try to make fairly fluent, plausible sense of the surviving Greek text.
[7] According to Plutarch’s son Autobulus, tension between Plutarch’s parents and his wife Timoxena’s parents brought the newly married Plutarch and Timoxena to the Erotidia:
A long time ago, before I was born, when my father had only recently married my mother, he rescued her from a dispute that had broken out between their parents. That dispute was so hotly contested that my father came here to sacrifice to Eros. He brought my mother to the festival. In fact, she herself was to make the prayer and the sacrifice.
{ Ὁ γὰρ πατήρ, ἐπεὶ πάλαι, πρὶν ἡμᾶς γενέσθαι, τὴν μητέρα νεωστὶ κεκομισμένος ἐκ τῆς γενόμένης τοῖς γονεῦσιν αὐτῶν διαφορᾶς καὶ στάσεως ἀφίκετο τῷ Ἔρωτι θύσων, ἐπὶ τὴν ἑορτὴν ἦγε τὴν μητέρα· καὶ γὰρ ἦν ἐκείνης ἡ εὐχὴ καὶ ἡ θυσία. }
Plutarch, Amatorius 2 (749B). Perhaps reflecting his personal experience, Plutarch is quite sensitivity to personal difficulties at the beginning of a marriage. He advised his friend Zeuxippus of Lacedaemon:
Do not, my dear Zeuxippus, be afraid of sharp pain that comes at the beginning of marriage. Don’t fear it as though it were a wound or a bite. And even if there’s a wound, it’s not terrible when the union is with a good woman. It’s like trees united though grafting.
{ Τὸ δ᾿ ἐμπαθὲς ἐν ἀρχῇ καὶ δάκνον, ὦ μακάριε Ζεύξιππε, μὴ φοβηθῇς ὡς ἕλκος ἢ ὀδαξησμόν· καίτοι καὶ μεθ᾿ ἕλκους ἴσως οὐδὲν δεινὸν ὥσπερ τὰ δένδρα συμφυῆ γενέσθαι πρὸς γυναῖκα χρηστήν. }
Plutarch, Amatorius 24 (769E). Plutarch also explained:
Just as with the mixing of two liquids, love between a woman and man seems at first to cause some effervescence and agitation. Then the mixture, over time settling down and subsiding, produces the most stable disposition.
{ ὥσπερ ὑγρῶν πρὸς ἄλληλα συμπεσόντων ποιεῖν τινα δοκεῖ ζέσιν ἐν ἀρχῇ καὶ τάραξιν ὁ Ἔρως, εἶτα χρόνῳ καταστὰς καὶ καθαιρεθεὶς τὴν βεβαιοτάτην διάθεσιν παρέσχεν. }
Plutarch, Amatorius 24 (769F). That metaphor seems to be figuratively autobiographical. It plausibly represents Plutarch’s view of his own marriage to Timoxena.
Amatorius also presents a abstract view of a good marriage:
a good marriage must be contracted between two sensible, capable individuals at the right stage of life, and it must be bound together by ties of mutual erotic attraction, which in turn foster philia and virtue.
Beneker (2008) p. 698.
[8] On hearing that Ismenodora had kidnapped Bacchon, Zeuxippus laughed and recited a verse from the tragic poet Euripides. Amatorius 11 (755B). Zeuxippus’s trivialization of Ismenodora’s crime represents a much more general social pattern.
In the ancient Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Hades abducted Persephone according to her father’s Zeus’s plan for Hades to marry her. Persephone’s mother Demeter was enraged at Hades’ abduction of Persephone. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter doesn’t indicated that Hades raped Persephone. Nonetheless, classicists commonly refer to Hades’s “rape” of Persephone. See note [1] in my post on Demeter’s rage.
Almost no classicists have taken seriously Soclarus’s implicit view that others within the story regard Ismenodora as having raped Bacchon. One even misread it to mean that Bacchon was kidnapped “though not against his will (755CD).” Georgiadou (2019) p. 286. Moreover, scholars don’t refer to the story of Ismenodora and Bacchon as “The Rape of Bacchon.” One scholar deserves credits for at least a parenthetical question:
Brenk (n. 4), 50, suggests that in the Amatorius ‘the dispute is largely decided by an exemplum’ (namely, first Ismenodora’s ‘kidnapping’ — or should we say ‘rape’, as in Rape of the Sabines? [she certainly gets his cloak off pretty fast, 755A] — then the wedding itself).
Rist (2001) p. 575, n. 48. Brenk elsewhere noted ‘the importance of the literary “frame” of Ismenodora’s “rape” of Bacchon.’ Brenk (1988) p. 461. Brenk then betrayed the moral seriousness of rape by ignoring Ismenodora’s apparent rape of Bacchon. He, however, worried that study of women and sexuality “risks betrayal in male hands.” Id. Classicists refusing to recognized men being raped reflects much more general social injustice against men in defining crimes.
Classicists’ treatment of gender has been grotesquely gender-biased. Classicists have considered at length whether Plutarch adheres to feminism, or was a precursor to feminism. “Plutarch’s attitudes to women foreshadow some of the most essential aspects of modern feminism.” Nikolaidis (1997) p. 88. However, Plutarch shows “incomplete feminism.” Kondo (2024). In contrast to such gynocentric analysis, classicists have ignored gender injustices against men and have refused to consider how to improve men’s social position.
[9] Ancient Roman religion associated the female divinity Luna and the male divinity Sol with the moon and sun, respectively. Early Christians associated the sun with Jesus and the moon with Mary, the mother of Jesus.
Plutarch disparaged both sexless marriages and emotionally frigid marriages:
So marriage is to be a loveless union, devoid of god-given friendship! Yet we observe that an alliance, when erotic persuasion and charm have departed, can scarcely be held together by yokes and bridles of shame and fear.
{ ἀλλὰ τοῖς γάμοις ἀνέραστον ἐπάγων καὶ ἄμοιρον ἐνθέου φιλίας κοινωνίαν, ἣν τῆς ἐρωτικῆς πειθοῦς καὶ χάριτος ἀπολιπούσης μονονοὺ ζυγοῖς καὶ χαλινοῖς ὑπ᾿ αἰσχύνης καὶ φόβου μάλα μόλις συνεχομένην ὁρῶμεν. }
Amatorius 5 (752C-D). Medieval Christianity attached such great importance to sex within marriage that it developed doctrines concerning “conjugal debt,” meaning spouses’ obligation to have sex with each other.
In Plutarch’s view, sexual intercourse alone was a matter of only temporary pleasure:
And regarding those appetites for women, however well they are realized, they have for net gain only an accrual of pleasure in the enjoyment of a ripe physical beauty. To this Aristippus bore witness when he replied to the man who denounced Laïs to him for not loving him. He didn’t imagine, he said, that wine or fish loved him either, yet he partook of both with pleasure.
{ ταῖς δὲ πρὸς γυναῖκας ἐπιθυμίαις ταύταις, ἂν ἄριστα πέσωσιν, ἡδονὴν περίεστι καρποῦσθαι καὶ ἀπόλαυσιν ὥρας καὶ σώματος, ὡς ἐμαρτύρησεν Ἀρίστιππος, τῷ κατηγοροῦντι Λαΐδος πρὸς αὐτὸν ὡς οὐ φιλούσης ἀποκρινάμενος ὅτι καὶ τὸν οἶνον οἴεται καὶ τὸν ἰχθὺν μὴ φιλεῖν αὐτόν, ἀλλ᾿ ἡδέως ἑκατέρῳ χρῆται. }
Amatorius 4 (750D-E). Plutarch further explained:
Sexual intercourse without Eros is like hunger and thirst, which can be sated, but never achieve a noble end. With Eros the goddess Aphrodite removes the cloying effect of pleasure and creates affection and fusion.
{ ἀνέραστος γὰρ ὁμιλία καθάπερ πεῖνα καὶ δίψα πλησμονὴν ἔχουσα πέρας εἰς οὐδὲν ἐξικνεῖται καλόν· ἀλλ᾿ ἡ θεὸς Ἔρωτι τὸν κόρον ἀφαιροῦσα τῆς ἡδονῆς φιλότητα ποιεῖ καὶ σύγκρασιν. }
Amatorius 13 (756E).
[10] On Camma of Galatia, Amatorius 22 (768B-D). Plutarch provides a more elaborate account of Camma at Moralia, Bravery of Women / Mulierum Virtutes 20 (257E-258C). Plutarch’s story of Camma reappears in Polyaenus, Strategemata 8.39. On Empona of Gaul, Amatorius 25 (770D-771C). On Plutarch’s use of love stories and his possible literary influence on Apuleius, Costantini (2018).
[images] (1) Mummy portrait of a wealthy women from Fayum, Egypt, early in the second century GC. The woman is wearing earrings and a necklace containing pearls and emeralds. Preserved as accession # 32.5 in The Walters Art Museum (Baltimore, USA). Credit: Acquired by Henry Walters, 1912. With admirable public spirit, the Walters supplied the source image with a Creative Commons Zero license.
(2) Mummy portrait of a young man from Egypt about 190-210 GC. The young man apparently has a surgical cut under his right eye. Preserved as object # 09.181.4 in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, USA). Credit: Rogers Fund, 1909. With admirable public spirit, The Met dedicated the source image to the public domain. I have made minor, non-substantive modifications to the background of the face.
References:
Beneker, Jeffrey. 2008. “Plutarch on the Role of Eros in a Marriage.” Pp. 689-699 in Anastasios G. Nikolaides, ed. The Unity of Plutarch’s Work: Moralia Themes in the Lives, Features of the Lives in the Moralia. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.
Brenk, Frederick E. 1988. “Plutarch’s Erotikos: The Drag down Pulled Up.” Illinois Classical Studies. 13 (2): 457–71.
Brenk, Frederick E. 2022. “Plutarch: Expanding the Horizons of Platonic Love. ” Chapter 5 (pp. 83-110) in Carl Sean O’Brien and John M. Dillon. Platonic Love from Antiquity to the Renaissance. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.
Campos Daroca, Javier, and Lucía P. Romero Mariscal. “At First Sight or by Words of Mouth. Experiencing Love in Plutarch’s Amatorius and the Novel.” Pp. 71-80 in Josep Antoni Clúa Serena, ed. Mythologica Plutarchea: Estudios Sobre Los Mitos En Plutarco: XIII Simposio Internacional de La Sociedad Española de Plutarquistas (Universidad de Lleida, 4-5-6 de Octubre de 2018). Madrid: Ediciones Clásicas.
Costantini, Leonardo. 2018. “Love Stories as a Narrative Trope in Plutarch’s Amatoriae Narrationes and Mulierum Virtutes, and Apuleius’ Metamorphoses 7 and 8.” Rivista di Filologia e di Istruzione Classica. 146 (2): 489–504.
Gerber, Douglas E, ed and trans. 1999. Archilochus, Semonides, Hipponax. Greek Iambic Poetry: From the Seventh to the Fifth Centuries BC. Loeb Classical Library 259. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Georgiadou, Aristoula. 2019. “Marriage, Cult and City in Plutarch’s Erotikos.” Chapter 17 (pp. 280-294) in Delfim Ferreira Leão and Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta, eds. A Man of Many Interests: Plutarch on Religion, Myth, and Magic: Essays in Honor of Aurelio Pérez Jiménez. Leiden: Brill.
Gutzwiller, Kathryn J. 2004. “Gender and Inscribed Epigram: Herennia Procula and the Thespian Eros.” Transactions of the American Philological Association. 134 (2): 383–418.
Hayes, Evan, and Stephen A. Nimis. 2011. Plutarch’s Dialogue on Love: An Intermediate Greek Reader. Oxford, OH: Faenum Publishing. Alternate source. Review by Thomas R. Keith.
Kondo, Tomohiko. 2024. “Incomplete Feminisms of Plutarch and Musonius Rufus.” Chapter 24 (pp. 352-365) in Katarzyna Jazdzewska and Filip Doroszewskim eds. Plutarch and His Contemporaries: Sharing the Roman Empire. Leiden: Brill.
Minar, Edwin L., F. H. Sandbach, and W. C. Helmbold, ed. and trans. 1961. Plutarch. Moralia, Volume IX: Table-Talk, Books 7-9. Dialogue on Love. Loeb Classical Library 425. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Nikolaidis, Anastasios G. 1997. “Plutarch on Women and Marriage.” Wiener Studien. 110: 27–88.
Rist, John M. 2001. “Plutarch’s Amatorius: A Commentary on Plato’s Theories of Love?” The Classical Quarterly. 51 (2): 557–75.
Tsouvala, Georgia. 2008. The Social and Historical Context of Plutarch’s Erotikos. Ph.D. Thesis, City University of New York.
Warren, Lunette. 2022. Like a Captive Bird: Gender and Virtue in Plutarch. Ann Arbor, MI: Lever Press. Review by Lien Van Geel.