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ILIAD 24 AND THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS
C.J. Mackie

The Classical Quarterly / Volume 63 / Issue 01 / May 2013, pp 1 ­ 16
DOI: 10.1017/S0009838812000754, Published online: 24 April 2013

Link to this article: http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S0009838812000754

How to cite this article:
C.J. Mackie (2013). ILIAD 24 AND THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS. The Classical 
Quarterly, 63, pp 1­16 doi:10.1017/S0009838812000754

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Classical Quarterly 63.1 1–16 (2013) Printed in Great Britain 1
doi:10.1017/S0009838812000754

ILIAD 24 AND THE JUDGEMENT OF PARIS1

Despite the importance of the Judgement of Paris in the story of the Trojan War, the
Iliad has only one explicit reference to it. This occurs, rather out of the blue, in the
final book of the poem in a dispute among the gods about the treatment of Hector’s
body (24.25–30). Achilles keeps dragging the body around behind his chariot, but
Apollo protects it with his golden aegis (24.18–21). Apollo then speaks among the
gods and attacks the conduct of Achilles (24.33–54), claiming at the end that he offends
the dumb earth (24.54). Other gods too have their concerns about what is going on, and
they keep trying to get Hermes to snatch the body away (24.23–4). The three most
powerful divine enemies of Troy, however, Hera, Poseidon and Athena, will have
none of this.2 They remain as hostile to Troy and Priam and his people as they ever
were, and it is in this context that the Judgement of Paris is mentioned:

ἔνθ’ ἄλλοις μὲν πᾶσιν ἑήνδανɛν, οὐδέ πoθ’ Ἥρῃ

οὐδὲ Ποσɛιδάων’ οὐδὲ γλαυκώπιδι κούρῃ,
ἀλλ’ ἔχον ὥς σφιν πρῶτον ἀπήχθɛτο Ἴλιος ἱρὴ
καὶ Πρίαμος καὶ λαὸς Ἀλɛξάνδρου ἕνɛκ’ ἄτης,
ὃς νɛίκɛσσɛ θɛάς, ὅτɛ οἱ μέσσαυλον ἵκοντο,
τὴν δ’ ᾔνησ’ ἥ οἱ πόρɛ μαχλοσύνην ἀλɛγɛινήν.
(24.25–30)

And this was pleasing to all the others, but never to Hera
nor to Poseidon, nor to the flashing-eyed maiden,
but they remained hostile to sacred Ilios as in the beginning,
and to Priam and to his people, because of Alexander’s folly,
he who insulted the goddesses when they came to his inner courtyard
and praised her who provided his grievous lust.

Since ancient times much ink has been spilt on this passage, not least because it occurs
so late in the work. The debate about it is described at some length in Nicholas

1
I am very grateful to CQ’s anonymous referee for useful comments and criticisms of an earlier
draft of this article.
2
These are the same three gods who had earlier tried to tie up Zeus and overthrow him (1.393–
407). Thetis saved him from his fate on that occasion by bringing Briareus up to Olympus. He sat
down beside Zeus, whereupon the three plotters thought better of their scheme. This is an obscure
mythical episode, which was athetized by Zenodotus, although M.M. Willcock, ‘Mythological para-
deigma in the Iliad’, in D.L. Cairns (ed.), Oxford Readings in Homer’s Iliad (Oxford, 2001), 439
argues that it is a Homeric invention: ‘Why should Hera, Poseidon and Athene have wished to
bind Zeus? … It is precisely because these are the three gods who support the Greeks in the Iliad,
and who would therefore most wish to prevent Zeus acceding to Thetis’ request [his italics], that
they are made the opponents of Zeus in the invented myth.’ In the present passage in Iliad 24, the
hatred of the three gods for Troy is linked specifically to the Judgement of Paris and is also connected,
by juxtaposition, with the wedding of Peleus and Thetis (59–63), at which the dispute between the
goddesses first arose.
2 C . J . M AC K I E

Richardson’s commentary (ad 24.23–30),3 and so it need not be rehearsed in full here.
The main concerns about the passage, first raised by Aristarchus, are listed by
Richardson as follows: ‘(a) it is absurd to speak of all the gods agreeing, and then
exclude three of the most powerful deities; (b) the judgement of Paris is nowhere else
mentioned by Homer, whereas it ought to have been referred to more often as an expla-
nation of the goddesses’ hostility; (c) νɛίκɛσσɛ (29) is misused, since it cannot mean
‘judged’; (d) μαχλοσύνη (30) means γυναικομανία, whereas what Aphrodite gave to
Paris was not this but Helen, the most beautiful woman of the time; and the word is
in any case Hesiodic (cf. Hes. fr. 132 M–W)’. These are by no means the only objec-
tions to the passage, all of which are cited by Richardson. One concern added in the
scholia was the fact that Poseidon’s hatred of Troy arose from his treatment by
Laomedon (21.441–60), not from the divine beauty contest.
Some of the defenders of the passage, notably Reinhardt, Griffin, Davies and
Macleod, concerned themselves with its relevance in the broader context of the whole
poem.4 Reinhardt argued that the story of the Judgement lies behind it in a fundamental
way, and that there could be no Iliad without it (‘Ohne Parisurteil keine Ilias’, 32). His
view was that there is no real benefit for the poet in spelling out the spiteful motivation
of the two goddesses earlier in the work because it would introduce a folklore element
into an essentially Olympian struggle. Davies offered a critique of Reinhardt and raised
the question of why the reference to the Judgement is in the poem at all, if it can simply
lie behind it (as it does, happily enough, for the first twenty-three books). He offers an
ingenious argument to explain the passage – that the Judgement is fundamentally con-
nected to the main themes that are begun in Book 1: ‘If the first book of the Iliad
showed human quarrels persisting and divine strife easily quelled, the antithesis is lar-
gely reversed in the last. On the mortal level Achilles abandons his anger and becomes
finally reconciled with Priam and with humanity. On the divine level the first explicit
mention of the Judgement reminds us of grudges and resentments which are not
resolved, but linger on relentlessly and inexorably, to issue in the destruction of
Troy’ (59–60). Richardson’s own cautious conclusion is that ‘it is probably fair to
say that the passage as a whole should be regarded as part of the original poem, despite
some doubts over 29–30’ (278).
Most critical attention, therefore, has been devoted, either to dismissing the passage
outright, after Aristarchus, or to considering its place in the poem as a whole.
Surprisingly little work has been done on exploring the passage specifically within
the context of Book 24, even though there are many other references to the broader
story of Troy and the Trojan war at the end of the poem. As we will see, the numerous
allusions to other parts of the saga are not usually as explicit as our reference to the
divine beauty contest; and some of them are frustratingly elliptical. But they do add
up to a considerable interest in the wider narrative of the city and the regions around

3
N. Richardson, The Iliad: A Commentary. Volume VI: Books 21–24 (Cambridge, 1993).
4
K. Reinhardt, ‘Das Parisurteil’ (1938), reprinted in Tradition und Geist (Göttingen, 1960), 16–36;
J. Griffin, Homer on Life and Death (Oxford, 1980), 195 n. 49, who offers a more extensive bibli-
ography on the subject; M. Davies, ‘The Judgement of Paris and Iliad 24’, JHS 101 (1981), 56–62;
C.W. Macleod, Homer. Iliad Book XXIV (Cambridge, 1982). For a useful discussion of the
Reinhardt article, and the issues with which it deals, see the Introduction by Jones in P.V. Jones and
G. Wright, Homer: German Scholarship in Translation (Oxford, 1997), 18–20. A survey of the
Judgement story through time, with particular focus on the Euripidean context, is found in T.C.W.
Stinton, Euripides and the Judgement of Paris (London, 1965): for an assessment of the Iliadic refer-
ence, see pp. 1–4.
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 3

it. Some of the references look back to the earlier life of Troy before the war began, as
with the present passage. And others seem to assume a detailed knowledge of the fall of
Troy, and so take us forward to its imminent doom at the hands of the Greeks. The cen-
tral argument to be put in this article, therefore, is that the reference to the Judgement of
Paris is part of a wider pattern of allusion to the whole saga of Troy and the Trojan War
in Book 24. The Iliad’s conclusion has a sustained interest both in revisiting the origins
of the conflict, and in anticipating the final destruction of the city.
I begin, therefore, not with the beginnings of Hera’s and Athena’s hostility to Troy in
the Judgement of Paris, as above, but with an earlier event in mythic history. In response
to the hostile outburst of Apollo at the treatment of Hector’s body by Achilles, Hera
draws a comparison between Achilles, who is the child of a goddess, and Hector,
who is the child of a mortal woman (24.58–9). This in turn leads to her mention of
the upbringing of Thetis, and her betrothal and wedding to the warrior Peleus:

αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλɛύς ἐστι θɛᾶς γόνος, ἣν ἐγὼ αὐτὴ

θρέψα τɛ καὶ ἀτίτηλα καὶ ἀνδρὶ πόρον παράκοιτιν,
Πηλέι, ὃς πɛρὶ κῆρι φίλος γένɛτ’ ἀθανάτοισι.
πάντɛς δ’ ἀντιάασθɛ, θɛοί, γάμου· ἐν δὲ σὺ τοῖσι
δαίνυ’ ἔχων φόρμιγγα, κακῶν ἕταρ’, αἰὲν ἄπιστɛ.
(24.59–63)

But Achilles is the child of a goddess whom I myself

nurtured and brought up, and gave to a husband as his wife,
to Peleus, who was dear to the hearts of the immortals.
And you were all present at the wedding, you gods, and among them you
sat at the feast with your lyre, companion of evils, forever faithless.

Reference to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis here is particularly important because it
was at this event that the squabble between the three goddesses began. We will have a
little bit more to say about this aspect in a moment. Unlike the reference to the
Judgement of Paris (24.25–30), which has not been mentioned previously, the betrothal
and marriage of Thetis to Peleus have already been spelt out in some detail earlier in the
text. In her plea to Hephaestus for armour for Achilles, Thetis laments the fact that Zeus
gave her many woes, and that she had to suffer the bed of a mortal man, who is now in
painful old age (18.428–35). She says that she bore a son and afterward sent him to Troy
with the ships, from where he will never return to the house of Peleus (18.435–41).
Book 24 is especially concerned to re-emphasize the shared grief of the parents at the
loss of their only son because his doom is so much the closer after the death of
Hector. Thetis grieves for his death while he still lives (24.83–6, 128–37); and the
grief of Peleus is visualized by Achilles and Priam when they meet later for the ransom
exchange (24.486–9, 534–42). Thus the reference to Peleus in the speech of Hera
(24.60–1) is in keeping with the prominence of the grieving old man figure in the
final book.
The surprising news is that Hera brought up the young Thetis, and has a real good-
will towards her. Apollonius (4.790–8), and Apollodorus (3.13.5) both mention this
story, and it may have been included in the Cypria, where we learn that Thetis resisted
marrying Zeus as a favour to Hera.5 But it comes out of the blue as far as the Iliad is

5
Homer, OCT vol. 5 (Allen), p. 118 fr. II. See too Cat. fr. 210 M–W, together with J.R. March, The
Creative Poet (London, 1987), 8–9. Later sources (Pind. Isthm. 8.26–48 and [Aesch.] PV 907–27) tell
us that Zeus forced Thetis to marry a mortal because she was destined to bear a child who was greater
4 C . J . M AC K I E

concerned, especially after the display of apparent tension between the two goddesses in
Book 1 (517–67, esp. 555–9). At the beginning of the poem Zeus accedes to a request
from Thetis to support the Trojans, although he does so with some anxiety about Hera’s
likely response (1.518–21). Hera perceives what has happened at their meeting, and
makes complaint (1.540–3, 552–9), only to be put in her place by Zeus (1.561–7).
The earlier part of the Iliad, therefore, does not prepare us for Hera’s claim in the
final book that she brought up Thetis. The surrounding narrative of Book 24, however,
is a little more helpful. Shortly after making her claim about bringing up Thetis, Hera
has the opportunity to act out her goodwill towards her when she arrives on Olympus
(24.101–2). She greets her warmly there, and places a golden cup in her hand for her
to drink. Hera’s enunciation of her fondness for Thetis (24.59–61) thus prepares the
way for her actual arrival among the gods, and the warm welcome that she receives
(24.101–2). It is worth noting that B.K. Braswell dealt with the apparent inconsistency
in the poem as a whole by arguing that Hera’s nurturing of Thetis is probably a Homeric
invention: ‘The poet has invented the detail of Hera’s raising Thetis to provide an
element of obligation in the relation of the older goddess to the younger … we suspect
mythological innovation because it is a detail not found elsewhere and is precisely of the
kind that would have been invented to suit a passing need, namely to provide a motive
in the context.’6
Editorial concern about the apparent textual inconsistency in Books 1 and 24 has
tended to overshadow the rather more obvious fact that the early part of the final
book has a considerable interest in the very beginnings of the Trojan saga.
Particularly significant is Hera’s reference to the actual wedding of the pair, the
fact that all the gods were present, and that Apollo himself was there with his
lyre (24.62–3). Elsewhere in the Iliad the emphasis is largely on the betrothal and
marriage of the pair as parents of Achilles, rather than the actual wedding. The jux-
taposition of the Judgement (24.25–30) and the wedding (24.62–3) seems to be very
important. By the time that Zeus responds to the feisty enunciations of Apollo and
Hera with a firm injunction of his own on how things will proceed (24.65–76), we
have had two significant allusions to early stages of the saga of Troy. In the Cypria
these two events are fundamentally connected, because the trouble between the three
goddesses broke out at the wedding.7 Homer’s knowledge of the story about the
strife at the wedding is never made clear, but the close proximity of the two events
here in Iliad 24 seems to suggest that he was well acquainted with it. What we can
certainly say is that the first part of the final book has an early interest in the origins
of the war in the divine sphere. Paris’ choice of Aphrodite as the winner of the con-
test, on the promise of receiving Helen as his bride, not only begins a new phase in

than his father, and Peleus was chosen because he was the most righteous (eusebestaton, Isthm. 8.40).
March argues (23) that ‘it would seem very likely that it was Pindar himself who created this inno-
vation in the legend, because he wished to stress the stature of Achilles, who was to be greater
even than the great hero Peleus, his father’. By contrast L. Slatkin, The Power of Thetis (Berkeley,
1991), 83 takes the view that a secret power of Thetis lies within her tragic isolation: ‘the central
element in the structure of Thetis’s mythology, common to its representations in both Isthmian 8
and Prometheus Bound, is the covertness of her power; it is a secret weapon, a concealed promise,
a hidden agenda requiring discovery, revelation. It is precisely this covert, latent aspect of Thetis’
potential in cosmic relations to which the Iliad draws attention as well, both exploiting and reinforcing
it, as allusion.’
6
B.K. Braswell, ‘Mythological innovation in the Iliad’, CQ 21 (1971), 16–26, at 24; cf. 14.303,
where Hera says that she herself has been brought up by Oceanus and Tethys.
7
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 102.13–17.
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 5

the dispute between the goddesses, but also brings his own city into the sights of the
Greeks.
In addition to these references to important events before the war, Book 24 seems to
reveal a considerable interest in the background story of Troy itself, especially to the line
of earlier kings before Priam. These are mostly bare allusions, without any attached nar-
rative, unlike the references to specific narratives that we have just been considering.
More expansive narratives of the earlier kings are told elsewhere in the poem, especially
the speech of Aeneas to Achilles about the background history of Troy (20.215–41).
Dardanus, Ilus and Laomedon are the three kings mentioned in Book 24, although
there is quite a bit of difference in the character of the references. Collectively, however,
they do signify a sustained level of interest in the broader story of Troy and the region
around it in the final part of the poem.
In his account of the life of the city, Aeneas tells Achilles of the part played by
Dardanus, the son of Zeus, as the founder of Dardania on Mount Ida, prior to the estab-
lishment of Troy (20.215–18). We learn shortly afterwards that Zeus loved Dardanus
above all the children who were born to him from mortal women (20.303–5). The
patronymic Δαρδανίδης is used of two Trojan kings in the Iliad. In Book 11 (166,
372) it describes Ilus, the son of Tros and thus the great-grandson of Dardanus
(20.230–2); and it also describes Priam on six occasions prior to the final book
(3.303, 5.159, 7.366, 13.376, 21.34 and 22.352). The genealogical distance between
Dardanus and Priam is a full five generations (Dardanus–Erichthonius–Tros–Ilus–
Laomedon–Priam, 20.215–240), and so the patronymic is very extended in his case.8
The sustained interest in Dardanus–Priam in the poem as a whole is even more
emphatic in the final book where the patronymic is used four times at crucial points
in the narrative (24.171, 354, 629, 631). The first of these is in the vocative in the speech
of Iris to Priam where she gives him reassurance and tells him not to be afraid (θάρσɛι,
Δαρδανίδη Πρίαμɛ, φρɛσί, μηδέ τι τάρβɛι, 24.171). The second, another vocative, lies
in the speech of Idaeus, who catches sight of Hermes as they venture out to Achilles’
camp. When the herald sees him standing there in the gloom, he verbalizes his anxiety
to Priam as ‘son of Dardanus’ (φράζɛο, Δαρδανίδη, 24.354). The poet clearly has an
interest in associating the two men as the first and the last in the long line of kings
as he embarks on his heroic quest.
The most significant use of the patronymic in the Iliad, however, is when Achilles
and Priam gaze upon one another after the meal that they share:

ἦ τοι Δαρδανίδης Πρίαμος θαύμαζ’ Ἀχιλῆα,

ὅσσος ἔην οἷός τɛ· θɛοῖσι γὰρ ἄντα ἐῴκɛι·
αὐτὰρ ὁ Δαρδανίδην Πρίαμον θαύμαζɛν Ἀχιλλɛύς,
ɛἰσορόων ὄψίν τ’ ἀγαθὴν καὶ μῦθον ἀκούων.
(24.629–32)

Then indeed Priam, the son of Dardanus, wondered at Achilles,

how big he was and how fair; for plainly he seemed like the gods.
And Achilles in turn wondered at Priam, the son of Dardanus,
gazing on his noble appearance, and listening to his words.

8
This has caused anxiety in some quarters that the patronymic is too extended and that we should
be thinking of another Dardanus (see the discussion of T. Gantz, Early Greek Myth, vol. 2 [Baltimore,
1996], 557–8). It is important in the Iliad, however, especially Book 24, that the patronymic takes us
right back to the beginnings of the city. Dardanides is used throughout Virgil’s Aeneid to signify
Aeneas (singular) and the Trojans (plural).
6 C . J . M AC K I E

As Richardson points out (ad loc.), the repetition of the full patronymic helps provide
the reason for the wonder of Achilles as he looks across at him. Dardanus, the originator
of Trojan identity, is evoked twice in quick succession to describe the last king of Troy.
It is as if Achilles looks across at the whole history of Troy, from Dardanus in the begin-
ning to Priam at the end. There seems to be a conscious interest in extending and broad-
ening our sense of the life of the city, from its earliest origins with Dardanus on the
ridges of Ida (20.218) to the final doom hanging over Priam’s Troy.
Book 24 also alludes to two other early kings, Ilus and Laomedon, respectively the
grandfather and father of Priam. The tomb of Ilus, the son of Tros, and brother of
Assaracus and Ganymede (20.231–2), is referred to at a crucial moment in the descrip-
tion of Priam’s ransom journey. It is also mentioned earlier in the poem (10.415, 11.166,
372), and is one of a number of significant landmarks outside of the city.9 In Book 24 it
takes on an added level of significance because it helps to identify the end of Trojan
territory. When Priam and Idaeus have ‘driven past the great tomb of Ilus, they stopped
the mules and horses in the river for them to drink; for by this time darkness had fallen
upon the earth’ (24.349–51). It is at this point that the herald notices Hermes standing
before them, and the two old men stand there in fear and confusion. Thus the two early
kings, Ilus and Dardanus, are mentioned in quick succession (24.349 [Ilus], 354
[Dardanus]). The tomb of Ilus, the river and the darkness all help to signify the point
in his mission where Priam will need Hermes to provide safe passage. The fact that it
is the tomb of Priam’s grandfather, the eponymous king of Ilios (hence the Iliad), clearly
gives the landmark a special cultural significance.
Ilus’ son, Laomedon, is actually the subject of more attention in the narrative of the
Iliad than his father, not that we learn very much about him either (the main references
are 5.269 and 640–54, 6.23, 7.452–3, 20.236–7, 21.441–60).10 Laomedon was the per-
fidious king who refused to pay Poseidon and Apollo for their work at Troy. He com-
pounded his folly by refusing to pay Heracles for his labours at Troy in killing the
monster which the gods sent to be a plague on the city. Heracles duly raised a small
force and sacked Laomedon’s Troy (5.638–42). Laomedon himself is not explicitly
mentioned in Book 24, but he is the subject of an oblique allusion as the reason for
Poseidon’s hostility to Troy (at 24.26). A little earlier in the poem (21.441–60),
Poseidon says that he finds it hard to understand Apollo’s continued support for the
Trojan cause: ‘Don’t you remember all the evils that we two, alone of all the gods, suf-
fered at Ilios?’ (21.442–3). He then proceeds to list all the bad treatment that they
endured at the hands of the king. As we have seen, the reference to Poseidon’s hatred
for Troy (24.26) is wedged uncomfortably between Hera’s hostility for the city (24.25)
and that of Athena (24.26). The two goddesses are motivated by Paris’ choice of
Aphrodite as victor in the Judgement, whereas Poseidon is still driven by
Laomedon’s offensive conduct. The oblique reference to Laomedon also has the effect
of reminding us that Troy was sacked a generation ago, as the gods gather for the final
destruction of the place.11

9
On the tomb of Ilus, see Griffin (n. 4), 22–4.
10
See M.J. Alden, Homer Beside Himself: Para-narratives in the Iliad (Oxford, 2000), 24 and
157–64.
11
On the Laomedon story and its role in the Iliad, see M. Lang, ‘Reverberation and mythology in
the Iliad’, in C.A. Rubino and C.W. Shelmerdine (edd.), Approaches to Homer (Austin, 1982), 140–64.
For a comparison of the sack of Laomedon’s city and Priam’s in the two heroic generations, see C.J.
Mackie, Rivers of Fire: Symbolic Themes in Homer’s Iliad (Washington, DC, 2008).
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 7

Within Book 24, therefore, we have references to three earlier kings of Troy. These
have the effect of complementing the account of Aeneas in Book 20 (215–41).
Dardanus, the founder of Dardania on Mount Ida, he who established the line of
kings, is mentioned four times through the patronymic (24.171, 354, 629, 631; cf.
20.215–19, 303–5). His great-grandson Ilus is alluded to through the significant marker
of his tomb (24.349; cf. 20.232–6). And his son Laomedon, the father of Priam, is
alluded to, but not named, as the reason for Poseidon’s hostility to Troy (24.26; cf.
20.236–9, 21.441–60). There is a sense that as he ventures out to Achilles’ camp,
Priam carries with him not just the whole weight of his people but also the whole history
and identity of his regal line.
Another important reference to the pre-Trojan War period, this time during the earlier
kingship of Priam himself, is Helen’s allusion to her journey with Paris to Troy (24.764–6).
In her lament for the dead Hector – the final speech in the Iliad – Helen offers some detail
about their passage from Sparta to Troy: ‘he (Paris) who brought me here to Troy. Would
that I had died before then. For this is now the twentieth year since I departed from there
and have been gone from my native land’ (24.764–6). This is the tenth year of the Trojan
War (2.134, 295, 328–9), and so a period of twenty years since Helen’s departure is pro-
blematic, to say the least. Twenty years may simply be Homer’s way of saying ‘a very long
time’ (Richardson), or ‘10 + ’ years (Macleod).12 If that is the case then the reference pre-
sumably helps us to account for the time spent gathering the Greek forces together and
actually getting them to Troy. The Greek poets and mythmakers do favour ten-year blocks
in their myths, and Richardson (ad 24.765–7) points to other references to twenty as a kind
of standard figure in Homer.
The passage, however, is made more problematic by the fact that a series of stories
was told in Cyclic epic explaining a delay in the Greek arrival at Troy after Helen’s
departure with Paris. These included the military campaign against Telephus in
Mysia, accounts of Achilles on Scyros and the winds at Aulis. Proclus gives us a
brief account of some of the stories in his summary of the Cypria, but it is unclear
whether Homer knew them.13 My own view is that there is more to what Helen says
in the present passage than a vague statement of a long time. It does seem to be signifi-
cant that the extraordinary reference to the period of twenty years falls within this book
rather than earlier in the poem. The wedding of Peleus and Thetis (24.62–3) and the
allusion to the Judgement of Paris at the beginning of the final book (24.25–30) clearly
complement Helen’s reference to her journey from Sparta at the end of the same book,
not least because the earlier mythical events lead directly to the later one. This mythical
‘coupling’ is a characteristic of Book 24, as we have already seen with Hera’s reference
to the childhood and wedding of Thetis (24.59–61), and the warm greeting that she
gives her when she reaches Olympus (24.101–2).14 Helen is a figure of great importance
at the end of the Iliad, both as the woman over whom the war is fought, and as the final
speaker in the poem, one who reflects on the origins and course of the conflict.
Two other figures referred to in the final book from earlier in the war are Troilus and
Mestor, the sons of Priam (24.257–8), neither of whom is mentioned elsewhere in
Homer. When he is preparing for his ransom mission Priam castigates his surviving
sons, and compares them unfavourably to those who have died – Mestor, Troilus and

12
Macleod, ad 765–6; Richardson, ad 24.765–7.
13
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 104.1–24.
14
Cf. 24.107–10 in which Zeus describes the νɛῖκος between the gods. This complements the main
description of the argument between Apollo and Hera earlier in the book.
8 C . J . M AC K I E

Hector (24.253–64). We learn nothing about the first two figures, other than the fact that
they are dead, and that they are now much revered by their father. Mestor does not
appear again in any early accounts of the war for Troy, but Apollodorus tells us that
he was killed by Achilles as part of the raid on Aeneas’ cattle on Mount Ida. Aeneas
escaped, but Achilles killed the cowherds and also killed Mestor, the son of Priam,
and proceeded to drive away the cattle (Apollod. Epit. 3.32; cf. Il. 20.90–3, 188–94).
Proclus tells us that the Cypria contained a narrative of the raid on Aeneas’ cattle,
but he makes no mention of Mestor.15 The death of Troilus at Achilles’ hands, however,
was contained in the Cypria, and surviving vases also indicate that it was a popular
theme in early Greek art.16 As we have just seen with the reference to Helen’s journey
to Troy, it is unclear what stories Homer is thinking of when he mentions Mestor and
Troilus in the final book. But again it does seem to be significant that the close of the
poem consciously reflects upon them as part of a wider interest in the earlier stages of
the war.
In the following chart, therefore, we may observe the series of allusions in Book 24
to earlier people and past events, together with the main references to these same events
from earlier in the text:
References to past people and events in the story of Troy in Iliad 24
Person/event Book 24 Earlier books of the Iliad

1. Dardanus 24.171, 354, 629, 631 20.215–19, 303–5

2. Ilus 24.349 10.415, 11.166, 372, 20.232–6
3. Laomedon 24.25–6 (not named, 5.269, 640–54, 6.23, 7.452–3,
oblique allusion) 20.236–7, 21.442–60
4. Childhood and 24.59–61, 534–7 18.428–35 (the betrothal and
wedding of Thetis marriage to Peleus)
5. Judgement of Paris 24.25–30 No other reference
6. Helen’s twenty 24.764–6 No other reference (cf. 3.46–51,
years away from 442–6, 6.290–2, 13.625–9,
Sparta 22.111–18)
7. Deaths of Mestor 24.257–8 No other reference
and Troilus
In addition to this sustained interest in earlier stages of the war for Troy, the final book
of the Iliad is characterized by its anticipation of significant events to come. The Iliad is
quite different from the Odyssey in this regard, in the light of its fundamental concern
with what is about to happen after the close of the poem itself.17 The two principal
events foreshadowed are the death of Achilles and the fall of Troy. The fates of these
two are rather skilfully linked together throughout the poem. Achilles and the Trojans
are both protected by divine workmanship – Achilles by the armour of Hephaestus
(18.368–617 etc.), and the people of Troy by the walls of Poseidon (21.441–7; and
Apollo, 7.446–53). Notwithstanding this divine goodwill, the invulnerability of
Achilles and the Trojans is imperfect, and the final part of the Iliad emphatically

15
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 105.10–12.
16
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 105.12; K. Schefold, Myth and Legend in Early Greek Art (London, 1966),
44, 61, 87; Gantz (n. 8), 597–603; LIMC 8.2, s.v. ‘Troilus’, 1–16 (= pp. 69–71).
17
For the future in the Odyssey, see 11.121–37, 23.268–84.
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 9

anticipates the doom that they face.18 Both will fall to acts of divinely inspired treachery,
Achilles to an arrow in the heel (Apollo/Paris), and Troy to the Wooden Horse, although
the Iliad offers us next to nothing on these two episodes.19
After the death of Patroclus is announced to him, and he sets a determined course on
revenge, Achilles is told by Thetis that he is destined to die shortly after the death of
Hector (18.95–6; cf. 19.408–9, 22.357–60). Book 24 reiterates this fate in an emphatic
way. When Iris goes into the sea to rouse Thetis to Olympus to meet with Zeus, she is
already grieving for her son who was ‘to perish in deep-soiled Troy, far from his home-
land’ (24.85–6).20 And when she comes to urge him to accept the ransom, she is explicit
that ‘death and mighty fate stand right beside’ him (24.131–2). The funeral and crema-
tion of Hector at the end of the poem have the effect of anticipating both the associated
doom of Achilles, and the fall of the city which Hector had defended so resolutely when
he was alive.
Indeed, the fall of Troy is anticipated throughout the Iliad, even before the death of
Hector (for some of the main references to the destruction of the city, see 4.163–5,
6.447–9, 20.313–17, 21.374–6, 22.59–71, 24.244–6, 380–5, 551, 725–45).21 By the
time that Andromache begins her lament at the funeral of Hector, she is already foresha-
dowing the likely fates of individual Trojans after the city’s fall (24.725–45, on which
see below). The principal device, however, by which Troy is taken – the ruse of the
Wooden Horse – is not described in the Iliad. Other early epics took a great deal
more interest in this story. It was told in Cyclic epic, in the Little Iliad and in the
Iliou Persis, and there are also three references to it in the Odyssey (4.266–89,
8.499–520, 11.523–32).22 One assumes that the poet of the Iliad knew the story of
the Horse well enough, but chose to omit it from his narrative. In some ways it is a sur-
prising omission, given the Iliad’s interest in the imminent fall of Troy. But it has been
well documented by many scholars just how severe the Iliad can be in its treatment of
myth.23 The Wooden Horse is an Odyssean triumph, but it does nothing for Achilles and
his brand of heroism.
This article has argued, however, that the final book of the Iliad displays a consider-
able interest in some of the main stories in the saga of Troy – the Judgement of Paris, the
wedding of Peleus and Thetis and the voyage of Helen to the Troad; and that it alludes
throughout to some of the earlier kings. It would not be totally surprising, therefore, to
find some kind of hint about the role of the Horse in the city’s destruction; and a sep-
arate argument for such a foreshadowing has recently been put.24 G.F. Franko argues

18
On ‘imperfect invulnerability’, see J. Burgess, ‘Achilles’ heel: the death of Achilles in ancient
myth’, ClAnt 14 (1995), 217–43. See now Burgess’s book, The Death and Afterlife of Achilles
(Baltimore, 2009), esp. 9–13.
19
The best evidence for the manner of Achilles’ death in the Iliad is 21.277–8, where he says that
he will be killed by the ‘swift shafts’ (λαιψηροῖς … βɛλέɛσσιν, 278) of Apollo.
20
Line 86 was rejected by Aristarchus, although with no compelling reasons; see Richardson’s
note, ad loc. The Neoanalysts argue that the mourning of Thetis here in Book 24, and in two other
places in Homer (Il. 18.35–71 and Od. 24.47–62), presupposes an actual death of Achilles in the
lost corpus of ancient epic. I myself have no problem with such a view, although it must remain
speculation.
21
On the various references to the fall of Troy in the Iliad, see W. Kullmann, Die Quellen der Ilias
(Wiesbaden, 1960), 343–9. More generally, see M.J. Anderson, The Fall of Troy in Early Greek
Poetry and Art (Oxford, 1997).
22
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 107.2–14 (Little Iliad); p. 107.27–30 (Iliou Persis).
23
Especially J. Griffin, ‘The Epic Cycle and the uniqueness of Homer’, JHS 97 (1977), 39–53.
24
G.F. Franko, ‘The Trojan Horse at the close of the Iliad’, CJ 101 (2005/6), 121–3.
10 C . J . M AC K I E

that there are three references to the Horse in the subtext of the last two books – at the
end of the funeral games for Patroclus (23.689–91) and at the very end of the poem
(24.778–9, 24.804). His argument clearly has some considerable relevance to the
main thrust of this article, and so a brief summary of its main points is needed.
In the first of the passages mentioned, a Greek called Epeius suddenly appears in the
boxing contest at Patroclus’ funeral. He proceeds to knock out his opponent Euryalus
when he is off his guard (23.689–91). Franko argues that the sudden reference to
Epeius here anticipates his later role as the builder of the Wooden Horse, as set out
in the Little Iliad (see above, n. 22). Indeed, he claims that even the manner of his vic-
tory in the contest, where he catches his opponent off guard, further anticipates the
defeat of Troy by means of the Horse: ‘Epeios attacks when his opponent has let
down his guard, not unlike the unwary Trojans’ (122). The second reference is
Priam’s command to his people to bring wood into the city without any fear of a cun-
ning ambush on the part of the Argives (πυκινὸν λόχον, 24.779). Franko argues that
‘Homer invites us to connect these lines with more than just Odysseus, for Priam’s
injunction to haul lumber into the city without fear identifies for the audience the
very material of the city-sacking pukinon lochon and indicates that the Trojans them-
selves will incautiously bring this ambush inside their walls. From Priam’s utterance
the fate of Troy is sealed’ (122–3). Third is the final word of the poem (ἱπποδάμοιο,
‘breaker of horses’, 24.804) which, Franko argues, ‘leaves the audience with the ironic
foreshadowing of the inability of the Trojans without Hector to master that most fatal
horse’ (123).
This is very much an argument from silence, and the evidence put forward is hardly
compelling, especially in isolation from the broader context of Book 24. None the less,
the mere appearance of Epeius at this point in the Iliad does seem to be important in
view of his role in the Odyssey as the builder of the Horse (8.492–3, 11.523). The argu-
ment may also have more weight when one bears in mind the sustained interest in the
broader saga at the end of the Iliad. We will see in a moment, moreover, that references
to Astyanax and Cassandra in Book 24 seem to evoke their individual fates in the fall of
Troy. These latent references to the Wooden Horse – if that is what they are –would be
in keeping with this broader pattern of allusion. It is probably best to say that it would
be foolish to deny the possibility that the story of the Horse lies within the subtext of the
narrative in the final book, in the manner of Franko’s argument.
The possible fate of the boy Astyanax is enunciated twice by Andromache in the
final books of the poem. The first of these comes shortly after Hector’s death when
she is revived after falling down in grief at the sight of his body being dragged by
Achilles’ horses to the ships (22.487–507). And the second is uttered as part of her
goos at her husband’s funeral (24.725–45). Initially, her concern is with how
Astyanax will be treated within the aristocratic world of Trojan society now that he
has no father. She foresees a rather brutal fall from the regal luxury he enjoyed when
his father was still alive. He is imagined bowing to all and pleading for the basic necessi-
ties of life, and getting beaten out of the banquet by another boy whose father still lives. If
this is not bleak enough, she then has an even darker vision at the very end of the poem
where she looks to his fate after the fall of the city. She envisages him following her into
slavery, and having to labour at unpleasant tasks for an unkind master (24.732–4). Then
she imagines him being killed in the fall of the city:

… ἤ τις Ἀχαιῶν
ῥίψɛι χɛιρὸς ἑλὼν ἀπὸ πύργου, λυγρὸν ὄλɛθρον,
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 11

χωόμɛνος, ᾧ δή που ἀδɛλφɛὸν ἔκτανɛν Ἕκτωρ

ἢ πατέρ’, ἠὲ καὶ υἱόν …
(24.734–7)

… or else one of the Achaeans

will seize you by the arm and hurl you from the wall, a miserable death,
someone angered perhaps because Hector slew his brother,
or his father, or his son …

The manner of Astyanax’s death, being thrown from the walls of the city by the con-
quering Greeks, is the traditional end for the boy, one which is found in the Cyclic
poems and in later sources (the most renowned extant version is Euripides’ Trojan
Women, 721–5, 1133–5). There is, however, some variability in the tradition. In the
Little Iliad Neoptolemus throws him from the walls, grabbing him by the foot (not
by the arm, as in Il. 24.735).25 In this version it seems that his murder is perpetrated
by Neoptolemus himself in a personal desire to kill the son of Hector (not by a com-
bined decision of all the Greeks, as in Euripides). In the Iliou Persis Proclus tells us
only that the boy is killed by Odysseus.26 Presumably his fate was to be thrown from
the walls, but that is not actually stated. Aristarchus thought that the tradition of
Astyanax’s death came from the Iliadic passage. Nor is Richardson convinced that
Homer is familiar with the tradition of the boy’s death: ‘that a child should be thrown
from the walls in vengeance would, one imagines, not be so uncommon in a sack (cf. bT
735, Eust. 1373.43), and need not reflect a precisely formed tradition’.27 Macleod took a
different view that ‘the story must have been known to Homer: it is very unlikely that he
should have invented ad hoc this form of death for the child’.28 In view of the consistent
pattern of allusion in the final book, it does seem to me most likely, pace Aristarchus
and Richardson, that Homer is quite familiar with the story of Astyanax’s death from
the walls of Troy and duly refers to it.
One might follow the same approach in the case of the prophetic figure of Cassandra,
who is given a brief speaking role in the final book (24.704–6). Cassandra has been
mentioned previously in the Iliad at 13.365–82 as the object of Othryoneus’ marital
suit. He had come from Cabesus to fight at Troy, and had said that he would drive
the Greeks from Trojan land in return for the hand of Cassandra, ‘the most beautiful
of Priam’s daughters’ (13.365; cf. 13.376–82). Priam agrees to these terms, but
Othryoneus is killed beforehand by Idomeneus (13.370–2). In the final book
Cassandra is ‘like golden Aphrodite’, and has gone up on to Pergamus (24.699–700).
From there she catches sight of her father, standing on his chariot, and with him the her-
ald Idaeus, the crier of the city, driving the wagon. She sees Hector’s body on the mule
wagon, utters a funereal cry (κώκυσέν, 703) and then calls out for all the people to come
and look on Hector, who was a ‘great joy’ (μέγα χάρμα) to the city and all its people
(24.704–6). They all duly gather by the gates to greet Priam bringing home the dead
man (24.707–9).
This rather haunting passage treats Cassandra much more emphatically than earlier in
the poem where she makes no actual appearance. Again, we can identify Book 24’s

25
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 135 fr. 19.3–5.
26
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 108.8.
27
Richardson, ad 24.734–9.
28
Macleod, ad 734–8. See too Anderson (n. 21), 55–6 and J.S. Burgess, The Tradition of the
Trojan War in Homer and the Epic Cycle (Baltimore, 2001), 66–7, both of whom consider the
iconographical evidence for the death of Astyanax.
12 C . J . M AC K I E

interest in the broader tradition of the myth of Troy, beyond the narrower focus of action
earlier in the poem. The usual questions raise themselves, however, about whether or not
Homer knew other stories about Cassandra. These include later narratives of her
prophetic capabilities, her rape at Athena’s altar by Locrian Ajax and her murder by
Clytemnestra. The last of these at least is found in Book 11 of the Odyssey (421–3)
in which the shade of Agamemnon tells Odysseus that Clytemnestra killed the girl.
Prophetic vision, on the other hand, which is a distinguishing characteristic of
Cassandra in myth, is pushed to the margins of the Iliad; and it has been convincingly
argued that this helps to distinguish it from the works of the Epic Cycle.29 The treatment
of Cassandra in the present passage seems only to hint at some power in the art of pro-
phecy.30 Richardson is cautious about springing to any conclusion, but his best sense of
it on this occasion is that her prophetic powers do lie behind the text: ‘We cannot tell
whether the poet really does have in mind her prophetic gifts, or whether her role as
announcer of sad news may have helped to foster the later tradition of her as prophetess
of doom. As often, however, one is inclined to think that the poet knows more than he
tells us, and to read the scene in the light of what we ourselves know from later tra-
dition.’ We might add that Cassandra’s presence specifically on Pergamus, the citadel
at Troy (24.700), the site of Apollo’s temple (4.507–8, 5.445–6, 460, 7.21), seems also
to support the notion of an implicit allusion to her prophetic powers.
It may be overstating the matter to say that Cassandra links the events of Book 24 to
later ones (in the way that she helps to connect the Agamemnon to the Libation Bearers
of Aeschylus; see Aesch. Ag. 1280–5), but there is certainly a hint of that function. Her
cameo role obviously takes place in the context of the doom hanging over Troy in Iliad
24, and this seems to anticipate her own miserable fate as the rape victim of Locrian
Ajax. The rape at the altar is referred to in Proclus’ summary of the Iliou Persis,
where we learn that he forcibly dragged her away as she held on to the wooden statue
of Athena.31 Ajax in turn managed to escape from the angry Greeks by taking refuge at
Athena’s altar, only to be killed by Athena herself on the journey home. Cassandra’s
presence on the citadel, the site also of Athena’s temple (6.88, with Kirk’s note, and
6.297), seems to anticipate her terrible fate there, apparently described in graphic detail
in the Iliou Persis (and in Virgil’s Aeneid, 2.402–6). Thus the brief allusions to both
Astyanax and Cassandra in the final book seem to foreshadow the horrors of infanticide
and rape in the broader story of the fall of Troy. These episodes were clearly fleshed out
in the Epic Cycle, but they also seem to have been known well enough to Homer in the
final book of the Iliad.
Finally, two other brief allusions in Book 24 to later episodes in the saga of Troy are
also worth noting, although these provide us with minimal detail, and are rather weaker
examples of the broad pattern of references that we have been considering. The first is a
short reference to the sending of treasure abroad to protect the wealth of Troy; and the
second is an anticipation of the journey to Greece of the Trojan women. The former is
alluded to by Hermes when he meets Priam on his ransom mission: ‘are you sending out
these numerous beautiful treasures to foreign people where they may remain safe for

29
Griffin (n. 23). For Cassandra’s prophetic power in the Cycle, see Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 103.2
(Cypria).
30
Similar sorts of questions could be asked about the figure of Helenus in Book 6, although his
prophetic role is rather more fleshed out (cf. 6.76 and 7.44–54, with Kirk’s note in the Cambridge
commentary to 6.73–101).
31
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 108.2–6.
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 13

you, or are you already fleeing sacred Ilios in fear?’ (24.381–4). This particular refer-
ence seems to anticipate the story of Polydorus, as told in Euripides’ Hecuba, who is
sent to the Thracian king Polymestor with gold, in case Troy should fall. When Troy
does fall Polymestor kills the boy and keeps the gold, only to meet his match in the
figure of Polydorus’ mother Hecuba. Unlike most of the episodes that we have been
considering in this article, however, there is no reference to this story in the Epic
Cycle, and it may be that the whole narrative was a Euripidean innovation built on
this reference (and presumably the reference to Polydorus as the youngest son of
Priam, 20.407–10). Indeed Richardson points out that ‘to take Troy’s treasures abroad
for possible safe-keeping, becomes the opening motif of Euripides’ Hecuba, where
Priam sends his son Poludoros with the gold of Troy to Polumestor of Thrace before
the city’s fall (Hec. 1–12; cf. bT)’. The other reference is to the fate of the Trojan
women, including Andromache herself, which she utters in her lament at Hector’s fun-
eral: ‘for you (Hector) have perished, you who watched over (the city) and protected it
and supported its noble wives and little children. And these will soon be riding in the
hollow ships, and I with them’ (24.729–32). The allocation of the women as prizes
to the Greek princes becomes an important subject matter in later literature, most nota-
bly Euripides’ Trojan Women. Andromache is usually the prize of Achilles’ son
Neoptolemus, and in Virgil’s Aeneid Aeneas meets up with her in Greece during his
search for a new home (3.300–47).32
Some of the key references to future events in the saga of Troy at the close of the
Iliad can therefore be set out as follows:
References to future events and people in the story of Troy in Iliad 23 and 24
Person/event Books 23 and 24 Earlier books of the Iliad

1. Death of Achilles 24.85–6, 128–32 1.413–18, 9.410–16, 18.94–111,

19.408–17, 22.356–60
2. Wooden Horse? 23.689–91, 24. No reference
(oblique references) 778–9, 804
3. Fall of Troy 24.244–6, 380–5, Especially 4.163–5, 6.447–9,
551, 725–45 20.313–17, 21.374–6, 22.59–71
4. Death of Astyanax 24.734–8 No other reference
at Troy
5. Cassandra 24.697–706 13.365–82
6. Sending of Trojan 24.381–2 No other reference
treasures to Thrace
(Polydorus)
7. Journey to Greece of 24.731–3 Cf. 6.450–65
the Trojan Women
Before concluding, I will add some observations about the importance of topographical
references in the broad mythological sweep that we have been exploring in this article.
One of the characteristics of Book 24 is its interest in the immediate area outside of the
city walls, and the regions beyond. As far as place names are concerned, other than Troy
itself, reference is made to the following: Samos and Imbros (24.78), Thrace (24.234),
Mysia (24.278), the Hellespont (24.346), Lesbos, Phrygia and the Hellespont (24.544–5),

32
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 108.9 (Iliou Persis) and pp. 134–5 fr. 19 (Little Iliad).
14 C . J . M AC K I E

and Samos, Imbros and Lemnos (24.753). There are also a number of references to fea-
tures of the broader landscape outside the city where no place name is given (24.12–13,
dawn shining over the sea and the beaches; 24.96, Iris going into the sea; 24.202, Priam’s
renown among strangers and among those he rules; 24.695, dawn spreading over all the
earth). It is important to note that the final book of the Iliad has both a broad temporal
focus, before and after the wrath of Achilles, and a wide geographical interest in the
region beyond the city.
The main landmark mentioned in this context is Mount Ida, which takes on some
considerable significance at the end of the Iliad.33 Hecuba urges Priam, before he
goes out on his mission, to pour a libation to father Zeus (24.287–91) and then
‘make a prayer to the son of Cronos, the dark-misted, the god of Ida, who looks
down on all the land of Troy’ (24.290–1). Priam proceeds to do just that: ‘Father
Zeus, you who rule from Ida, most glorious, greatest’ (24.308). The mountain also
plays a key role as the source of wood for the two cremations that take place, those
of Patroclus (23.110–28, esp. 117–24) and Hector. In the final book the Trojans are con-
fined within the walls of the city and rather fearful of trying to gather the appropriate
supply from Ida (Priam to Achilles, 24.662–3). Achilles’ guarantee of holding back
the Greeks (24.669–70) gives them the opportunity to gather their wood from the moun-
tain (ἐξ ὄρɛος, 24.663), which they then do for nine days (24.784). The restoration of
the proper processes of funerary ritual, therefore, which is a keynote of Iliad 24, is
allowed to take place through the generous act of Achilles (24.656–8, 669–70), and
the gathering of the wood on Ida is an important part of this renewal. The significance
of Mount Ida even comes through in the name of Priam’s herald, Idaeus, who accom-
panies the king on his dangerous mission (24.325, 470). The fondness of the Trojans for
their mountain, and their origins there before the establishment of the city (in the time of
Dardanus [20.215–19, as above]) seem to be carried in the name of Priam’s old attend-
ant.34 The king is Δαρδανίδης and the herald is Idaeus, both of which allude to the ori-
gins of the city on Mount Ida.
It does seem appropriate, therefore, given Ida’s status as a sacred space in the life of
the Trojans, that the war has its origins there. It is a place where the noble youth of Troy
spend time as herdsmen and shepherds (11.104–6, 20.90–3 and 188–94).35 Paris spent
time as a herdsman on the mountain in his youth, and it was here that the Judgement of
Paris took place.36 Proclus tells us that in the Cypria Hermes conducted the three god-
desses to Ida upon the instructions of Zeus. It is significant in this context that the sole
reference to the Judgement of Paris in Iliad 24, with which we began this article, alludes

33
This is not to suggest that Ida is not important earlier in the poem. Worth noting in this context is
Il. 13.1–9 (Zeus on Ida) and 14.153–353, the Dios apatê, which takes place on the peak of the moun-
tain. Indeed it may be said that Ida is prominent in numerous ways throughout the poem, not least as
the source of all the main rivers which are really the life source of the city (12.19–33).
34
It is probably worth comparing the way that names like Scamandrius (5.49 = son of Strophius;
6.402 = Astyanax) and Simoeisius (4.488) convey the Trojan affection for their rivers (which, as it
happens, have their source on Mount Ida, 12.19–22). Satnius too is named after a river (14.442–5).
There are actually two Trojans called Idaeus in the Iliad, our herald (in Books 3, 7 and 24) and another
Trojan (5.11, 20).
35
In the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite, Anchises is tending cattle on Mount Ida, which is where his
sexual encounter with Aphrodite takes place (53–5, 68–80). Aeneas is thus conceived on the moun-
tain, the place where he gathers the Trojan refugees when he leaves the city (Homer, OCT vol. 5,
p.107.24–6). There is a suggestion in the hymn (76–80) that Anchises may have been with other
noble youths before Aphrodite appears, although we never learn who was meant to be with him.
36
Homer, OCT vol. 5, p. 102.16–17; cf. p. 120 fr. V.5.
 I L I A D 2 4 A N D T H E J U D G E M E N T O F PA R I S 15

to the location where the beauty contest took place. The goddesses are referred to as
coming to his μέσσαυλος (24.29), his ‘inner courtyard’ for cattle (Macleod, ad loc).
The reference to the setting of the Judgement of Paris on Mount Ida, not only takes
us back to where it all started, but it also fits into the general emphasis on the mountain
in the psyche and identity of the Trojans. It is the first important allusion to Ida among
many in the final book of the poem.
To conclude. This article has explored the single reference to the Judgement of Paris
within its context in the final book of the Iliad. It has argued that the passage is
accompanied by many other such allusions, some looking back to the period before
the wrath of Achilles, and some looking forward to particular narratives after the funeral
of Hector. The evidence is by no means compelling in every case, but there does appear
to be a consistent pattern of allusion to the broader story of Troy, and the region beyond,
in Iliad 24. It is Homer’s way of closing his epic. The reference to the Judgement, there-
fore, should not really be read in isolation from its immediate context, any more than
should Helen’s reflection on her twenty years away from Sparta, or Andromache’s
anxiety about the death of her son, or Cassandra’s sudden appearance on Pergamus.
They are all part of the same coherent creative process, not random allusions to other
mythical episodes.
There are, of course, implications in all of this for the relationship between the Iliad,
and what we know about the Epic Cycle, not least because so many of the episodes that
we have considered seem to have been included in the Cycle. This article has certainly
made no claims about Homeric ‘sources’, or speculated on what might lie behind the
Iliad, preferring to make its case at the level of myth, rather than possible poetic or tex-
tual relationships. Much of the debate surrounding Neoanalysis has been focussed on
the relationship between the Iliad and the Aethiopis (or the so-called ‘Memnonis’),
which, according to Proclus, contained narrative patterns that bear resemblance to the
Iliad. These included a sequence of battlefield deaths – Antilochus is killed by
Memnon, the Aethiopian king, then Memnon by Achilles, and then Achilles himself
by Apollo and Paris.37 The Aethiopis, as it happens, is not mentioned in this article,
but the Cypria is significant in the first part of it, and the Little Iliad and Iliou Persis
in the second. There is no convincing case to be made that the Cypria stands behind
the Iliad in view of the late date for the poem, and the fact that it seems to be a kind
of mythological introduction to the Iliad itself.38 But it is important to distinguish
between the Cypria as a text and the mythical narratives which it described.39
Whereas the poem is almost certainly post-Iliadic, many of the episodes within it are
traditional and go right back into the pre-Homeric world. This article has argued that
Homer’s rather austere way of keeping some narratives to the margins of the Iliad,

37
For a survey and critique of Neoanalysis in the context of the Iliad and Aethiopis, including the
forerunners to Kakridis, Schadewaldt, Pestalozzi and Kullmann, see M.L. West, ‘Iliad and Aethiopis’,
CQ 53 (2003), 1–14; and for a response to West, W. Allan, ‘Arms and the man: Euphorbus, Hector,
and the death of Patroclus’, CQ 55 (2005), 1–16.
38
M.L. West, Greek Epic Fragments (Cambridge, MA, 2003), 13 views the Cypria, on linguistic
and other grounds, as not earlier than the second half of the sixth century: ‘the Cypria must have been
composed after the Iliad had become well established as a classic’. The poet of the Odyssey shows a
good acquaintance with the material contained in the Little Iliad and Iliou Persis, the former of which
West (p. 16) dates to the third quarter of the seventh century.
39
For the view that the poems exploit audience knowledge of particular stories, including those
outside of their own narrative field, see R. Scodel, ‘Pseudo-intimacy and the prior knowledge of
the Homeric audience’, Arethusa 30 (1997), 201–19, and ead., Listening to Homer: Tradition,
Narrative and Audience (Ann Arbor, 2002), esp. 4–41, 47–9, 62–4, 92, 97–154.
16 C . J . M AC K I E

what Dowden calls a ‘policy of exclusion’, is accompanied by a policy of allusion.40

Some traditional narratives are kept out of the poem, only to be alluded to in the barest
of ways. The Judgement of Paris is an example of this, but not the only one.41 The end
of the Iliad reveals this characteristic rather clearly in its interest in the saga of Troy as a
whole, from the wedding of Peleus and Thetis right up to the fall of the city.

La Trobe University C.J. MACKIE

c.mackie@latrobe.edu.au

40
K. Dowden, ‘Homer’s sense of text’, JHS 116 (1996), 47–61, at 52.
41
I tend to think of the centaur Chiron as a good example of this characteristic from earlier in the
poem. He is essentially taken out of the Iliad in favour of Phoenix, but is also named at some key
moments (4.217–19, 11.829–32, 16.141–4 [=19.388–91]); see C.J. Mackie, ‘Achilles’ teachers:
Chiron and Phoenix in the Iliad’, G&R 44 (1997), 1–10. For a contrary view, that Chiron’s association
with Achilles and Peleus is post-Homeric, see March (n. 5), 25–6.