Vogler 79

Imaginings of the Other: A new interpretation of Oedipus and the Sphinx in Greek Vase PaintingBy: Christie Vogler

Anyone familiar with ancient Greek culture will know that myth accounts for many of the images found in ancient Greeces architecture, ceramics, and other art forms. According to one statistic offered by Lowell Edmunds, the estimated number of Greek painted vases and fragments alone falls around eighty thousand pieces, with a large percent of the depictions being mythological in nature (Edmunds 1990, 393). Decades of research involving classification of the painted vases, studies of potters and their patrons, uses of the vases, and finally, the vase trade as an element of economic history leaves one to wonder if there is anything that can still be said on the subject. I would argue that there is much that can still be learned from these artifacts and the ancient culture they represent. Edmunds seems to be in agreement when he states, Although scholars of Greek vase painting have never overlooked this subject matter [of mythological scenes], their agenda, until recently did not include the interpretation or study from a strictly mythological standpoint (Ibid.).The scholar Carlo Brillante suggests that for the ancient Greeks, myth and history were not necessarily two mutually exclusive concepts, but instead were complementary to the Greeks understanding of past events (Brillante 1990, 102). As a result, any object with mythical representations or narratives could offer insight into how the ancient Greeks conceptualized their past, and present circumstances as fantastical tales. It is up to archaeologists to look at these artistic representations of myth and apply theory, along with good methodology, in order to try and tease out the mindset of the people creating and reading those images. In this essay I will examine art and myth theory in conjunction with Christiane Sourvinou-Inwoods methodology for reading and interpreting fifth-century mythological scenes painted on Athenian vases, which were employed by the ancient Greeks to construct cultural identity. After the Persian Wars of the early fifth-century BC, the ancient Greek polarization of Greek and barbarian identities became fully realized. In turn, the concept of Greek versus Other began to be reflected in Greek literature and art. Edward Saids work Orientalism set the foundation for scholars such as Sourvinou-Inwood and Joseph Skinner to explore the phenomenon of Othering as seen in ancient Greek art and literature. However, in terms of art, much of the literature has focused on images that read specifically as Greeks versus the Persians. For my research, I examined images of the sphinx in Greek art dating before and after the Persian Wars, the range falling between ca. 750 BC and 400 BC. These images were retrieved from various online image archives such as ARTstor, the British Museum and Louvr websites, and most importantly, the Beazley Archive. The Beazley Archive is part of Oxford Universitys main classical library and it contains the worlds largest collection of ancient Greek pottery. A sample of the sphinx images discussed in this paper can be found in the appendix. The intention of this paper is to perform a similar analysis to Sourvinou-Inwoods of an Oedipus and Sphinx motif that becomes popular in Attic Greece during the fifth-century BC. Unlike her work, which focuses on a motif suggestive of Greeks versus Persians, I attempt to understand how the Greeks, and more specifically the Athenians, would have perceived another neighboring cultural group: the Egyptians. This is achieved not only through an analysis of images of Oedipus and the sphinx found on Greek pottery, but also through an exploration of the role of myth in ancient Greek culture and the history of interactions between the ancient Greeks and Egyptians. My findings suggest that unlike depictions of Greeks versus the Persians, which often portray Greeks in pitched battle against some kind of Other, the Oedipus and Sphinx motif is much less violent in nature. Yet the antagonism between the monster and hero hints at an uneasy relationship between the Greeks and Egyptians.

Critiques of Greek Archaeology

Early on in its development, archaeology was considered the handservant of history, a concept originally developed by historical archaeologist Ivor Noel Hume (Hume 1964). Another historical archaeologist, Sian Jones expands upon Humes concept by explaining how this handservant approach to archaeology attempted to seek out archaeological correlates of historically known ethnic groups. As a result, findings were flawed because they would ignore the situated and subjective nature, or the biases of the historical sources. Those results would also at times disregard the qualitative differences in the manifestation of ethnicity in written sources and material culture. The author concludes that this practice reflects the privileged status traditionally accorded to the written word over and above material culture in the study of historical periods(Jones 2010, 301).Greek archaeology is no exception to the problem of promoting literary evidence over archaeological evidence. Since myths play such a prominent role in Greek art and architecture it is not surprising that scholars have employed these stories to interpret their own readings of the images. As pointed out by Jones however, if scholars apply only literature to the material culture then our interpretations are limited. The situation becomes even more complicated when we take into account the fact that there are various versions of a single Greek myth. In his text on Classical mythology, Barry Powell gives a wonderful example of this with the Oedipus myth. He writes, In written works in which Greek myths have been preserved, we often find strikingly different versions of the same myth(Powell 2012, 5). The Oedipus myth is recounted in both the poet Homers work as well as the work of Sophocles. In both accounts Oedipus, the king of Thebes, kills his father and marries his mother. In Homers telling (Od. 11.271-80) Oedipus continues to rule after the truth comes out, whereas in Sophocles play Oedipus Tyrannous (lines 1330-1340), Oedipus pokes pins in his eyes and leaves the city to become a wretched wanderer. Many Greek myths have a multiplicity of versions, but more attention is paid to the best-known variants that come from some great literary work. In this example, Sophocles extended version of the Oedipus myth is better known than Homers passing reference (Powell 2012, 6). The problem with literary interpretations of material culture should now be apparent. Even if we do use myth to help us understand an image, which myth should we even use?This is not to say that we should totally disregard myth when attempting to understand the material culture left behind by the ancient Greeks. Instead we need to take into account various interpretations stemming from mythological, historical and archaeological approaches to gain a more nuanced understanding of these objects. To begin, we need to look at how art and myth function within societies in order to infer the ancient Greek reasoning for creating art and architecture that depicted mythical characters and narratives.

Art Theory

In order to classify the Oedipus and Sphinx motif found on Greek painted ceramics an art form, it is important to first understand how art is defined by anthropologists and the ways in which art functions. For a time, anthropologists were disinclined to include art in their research data since the early definition of art sprang from a particular, overly narrow, Euro-American conception of art. On the other hand, the authors Howard Morphy and Morgan Perkins insist on the inclusion of art in anthropological studies since it is closely associated with ideas about culture. The authors write, Art is associated almost equally with the two senses of the word culture- culture as a way of life or body of ideas and knowledge, and culture as the metaphysical essence of society, incorporating standards by which the finest products of society are judged (Morphy and Perkins 2006, 1).

In this way, art as a part of culture stems from an individuals cultural knowledge and is subject to the social norms of a given society. This being the case, an anthropological understanding of art allows for a deeper understanding of the culture producing the art.Yet one problem persists for anthropologists in trying to define art since conceptions of the idea can vary across cultures. Morphy attempts to address this problem by creating a general concept of art instead of a strict definition. He describes art as, objectswith aesthetic and/or semantic attributes (but in most cases both), that are used for representational or presentational purposes (Morphy and Perkins 2006, 12). This is a simple definition meant to encompass all the possible conceptions of art across cultures, but I find it a little problematic. Morphys concept defines arts as objects, suggesting visual media and not other art forms like oral storytelling. The authors address this by stating that the definition can be applied with little modification across different media of communication (Ibid.). That being the case, Morphys general concept of art works well as a simple definition for the purpose of this essay.With this working definition in mind, art has two important aspects: aesthetics, which means the object is intended to create some sort of reaction within the viewer, and semantics, meaning that the artist and viewer can understand the art within the context of their cultural knowledge. The authors summarize this idea by stating, art making is a particular kind of human activity that involves both the creativity of the producer and the capacity of others to respond to and use art objects, or to use objects as art (Ibid.).Along with creating a working definition of art, Morphy and Perkins discuss the ways in which art functions within societies. One the one hand, there is a very individualistic aspect in both producing and subsequently understanding an art piece. Although the art must be created within the context of certain cultural ideas in order to have semantic meaning for the artist and audience, the artist can employ his or her art to either adhere to or challenge social norms (Ibid., 13). Considering the production and initial reading of an art piece is dictated by cultural knowledge, whether that piece is upholding or challenging said knowledge, it is important to place an art piece in its original context. For Morphy and Perkins, this is the ultimate goal of the anthropology of art.In order to understand the significance of an art piece, anthropologists must place it in the widest context possible. Morphy and Perkins argue that it is not possible to understand an art pieces immediate effect or significance without first understanding the historical, social, and cultural backgrounds of its production (Ibid., 17). The purpose of this essay is an attempt to do just that by focusing on the Oedipus and Sphinx motif found on fifth-century Attic pottery. One important aspect of these ceramics is the myth they draw from as inspiration for the images. In order to address the problem presented at the beginning of this paper, it is essential for us to understand how myth, like art, is defined by anthropologists and the ways in which it functions within society.

Myth Theory

The best way to begin defining myth would be with the ancient Greeks own understanding of the concept. Returning to Powells work, myth is originally derived from the Greek word mythos, which simply means authoritative speech, story, or plot (Powell 2012, 2). However, later writers used the term myth in more restricted ways. Powell proposes a simple definition for myth as a traditional story with collective importance (Ibid.). In order to be a traditional story the tale must have contact with the past and must pass inherited knowledge on to future generations. The myths collective importance means that it holds meaning for the group and not just a mere individual (Ibid., 3). The idea of a myths collective importance is similar to what we have seen in the previously mentioned anthropological theories of art function.However, Powell goes on to describe how the individual also influences myths even though it has a collective meaning for the group. When myths are not codified, they are passed through oral storytelling or some other form of oral transmission, which means the traditional tale is subject to constant change based on the fancy of the teller. According to Powell different narrators will have differing motives and will emphasize or embroider on different aspects of the myth (Ibid., 5). This is why we end up with such a variety of different versions of a single myth, even after they have been codified by poets and playwrights like Homer and Sophocles. Does that mean the variability of myths is simply the result of individual interests? That is not the case, for we have to keep in mind that a myth still needs to have collective importance. The myth still needs to hold meaning for the group or it wont be successful. To better understand the variability in myths it is time to turn to other approaches in myth theory. As has already been illustrated in Powells examples, even though myths may date back for centuries, it does not suggest that they are in any way unchanging. Scott Leonard and Michael McClure offer an interesting statement to this effect in their overview of the history of the study of mythology. myths are ancient narratives. But they are not static artifacts. They are not potsherds and weathered bone fragments. In many cases, they are living texts with which living people continue to write or narrate or perform their unique answers to basic human questions (Leonard and McClure 2010, 47).This quote may be a bit disconcerting for an archaeologist attempting to understand the role of myth in material remains for a people long dead, but it does force one to realize how myth was continuously changing for those individuals. It is important to understand how myth functions for people today in order to infer what it might have meant for people of the past. The definitions of myth and art presented by Powell, and Morphy and Perkins illustrate two important influences on myth: individual interest and social norms acting on that individual. If we look at some other approaches to myth more influences can be discerned. This brings us to Bronislaw Malinowskis concept of the charter theory of myth. At the beginning of the 20th century Malinowski objected to the evolutionary understanding of myth as protoscience; that is, he disagreed with the idea that myth was employed to explain natural phenomenon not yet understood through modern science. Instead he held that myths purpose was to serve as a charter or justification for the way things are. For Malinowski, myth is:a statement of primeval reality which lives in the institutions and pursuits of a community. It justifies by precedent the existing order and its supplies a retrospective pattern of moral values, of sociological discriminations and burdens of magical beliefThe function of myth is to strengthen tradition and to endow it with a greater value and prestige by tracing it back to a higher, better, more supernatural, and more effective reality of initial events (Malinowski 1931, 629).

Malinowskis concept of myth as charter ties in closely with the previous definitions of myth. Yet he looked beyond just social structures and the individual. He brought something new into consideration, environment and historical context. In another one of his articles, Malinowski writes, There is no denying that history, as well as natural environment, must have left a profound imprint on all cultural achievements, hence also on myths (Malinowski 2002, 31). This statement supports my initial critique reading ancient Greek material culture only in terms of the mythological narrative. Such a reading does not take cultural context into account.Apparently this had been problematic for anthropologists as well in the time of Malinowski: too much focus on the text of the myth and not the context. The text, of course, is extremely important, but without the context it remains lifeless (Malinowski 2002, 33). For Malinowski the myth comes into play when rite, ceremony, or a social or moral rule demands justification, precedence and importance.Again, myth reaches into the past in order to justify the present. As any anthropologist knows however, social structures and norms change over time. Malinowski was also aware of this and he came to the conclusion that myths must change over time in order to accommodate shifts being experienced by the society telling these stories. If social arrangements change, the myth will change as well in order to justify the new arrangements (Ibid.). As a result, to understand a myth and its variations, one must recognize all the possible influences that shape the myths structure. Another type of myth analysis comes from the structuralist approach advocated by the French anthropologist Claude Lvi-Strauss. Structuralism attempts to seek out the underlying patterns of human thought that are common to all humans despite variations in culture (Lvi-Strauss 2010, 63). Myth becomes an important vehicle for this type of analysis since most, if not all, cultures possess some sort of mythology. For Lvi-Strauss, meaning in a myth or traditional story was not conveyed by the content, but by the structural relations behind the content (Powell 2012, 705). This led the French anthropologist to look for structures based on binary pairs such as hot versus cold and male versus female. Along with binary pairs, he searched for mediating factors within the story, which served to bridge between the binary oppositions (Lvi-Strauss 2010, 63). Structuralism assumes that people by nature cannot tolerate opposition for which intermediaries do not exist. As a result, people tell stories in order to bridge those perceived contradictions (Powell 2012, 706). An example of a structuralist analysis of myth comes from Claude Lvi-Strausss article Harelips and Twins: The Splitting of a Myth. In this piece, he compares myths shared by various cultures throughout the Americas in order to understand why many of those cultures associate twins with individuals with harelips and/or those who were born feet first. Based on his analysis, Lvi-Strauss was able to determine that individuals with a harelip are a failed attempt of the fetus splitting in the womb to create twins. He also notes that in many cases twins are born feet first. As a result each group is associated with ideas of twin-ness and splitting (Lvi-Strauss 2010, 66). People with harelips and rabbits (which is an animal with a harelip) are important characters within many myths because they are the intermediary between twins and normal individuals (Ibid.). Lvi-Strauss is careful to note the critiques to his own approach. He writes, many people have reproached me for this kind of procedure, claiming that myths of a given population can only be interpreted and understood in the framework of the culture of the given population (Lvi-Strauss 2010, 64). Some argue that attempts to find deep structural, and therefore universal meanings are very difficult. It is hard to know when the true structure of myth has been revealed since there are many different possibilities for analysis. However, as Powell points out, the structural method of interpretation has considerable exploratory power because it brings out hitherto unnoticed facets of myth by bringing together whole systems of myth and, beyond that, by relating myth to broader aspects of culture (Powell 2012, 706-707).Despite this, I find the structuralism approach problematic for my own research since the approach tends to ignore the context of the myth. It is important to consider the historical and cultural context in which a myth is being told in order to better understand how people of the past would have interpreted the story. In his article on the Harelip, Lvi-Strauss briefly mentions this aspect about twins within myth:And since these false twins had different fathers, they have antithetical features: one is brave, the other a coward; one is the protector of the Indians, the other of the white people (emphasis mine); one gives goods to the Indians, while the other one, on the contrary, is responsible for a lot of unfortunate happenings (Lvi-Strauss 2010, 64).

From there, Lvi-Strauss goes on to stress how various native groups throughout the Americas share this twin myth. He ignores the fact that the myth is very much representative of cultural dynamics between native groups and white colonizers. As Malinowski pointed out, myths will change over time in order to accommodate for changing social conditions. Although cross-cultural comparison of myth is a very important endeavor, in my own research I wish to focus more on how the social and historical context influences the telling of a myth.

Ancient Greek Constructions of Myth and History

For anthropologist it is vitally important to take context into consideration when analyzing the material culture of a society in conjunction with their myths. This is because art and mythology will be unique to each individual society and time period. In this case, it is important to establish how the ancient Greeks specifically comprehended their own myths. As I noted at the beginning of this essay, the ancient Greeks did not specifically separate myth from history as we tend to do in the modern world. Carlo Brillante takes a more in-depth look at ancient Greek constructions of myth and history in his article, History and the Historical Interpretation of Myth.Brillante begins his article by noting an important distinction the ancient Greeks made in regards to their myth. In Greek mythology certain stories take place during the age of the heroes and others during the age of the gods. For the ancient people, the Greek heroes were men who had actually lived and inhabited the same cities and regions in which they themselves, several centuries later, continued to reside (Brillante 1990, 94). For Brillante this suggests that the legends recounted in the heroic epic were situated in a well-defined past and that this past was neither identified nor confused with the age of gods, which was understood as the time of origins and felt to be profoundly different from the historical world of man (Ibid., 101-102). This leads the author to conclude that the ancient Greeks did not feel strongly the opposition between myth and history as we might in todays world. This is not to suggest that the Greeks blindly accepted myth as historical fact. From a certain age on, the Greeks began to question their myths and tried to gain new understanding of their past and present world. In order to achieve this, Brillante believes the Greeks subjected their traditions to criticism by adopting a rational analysis that left no space for the marvelous (Ibid., 102-103). Brillante also takes into consideration the interesting aspect of multiple versions of a single Greek myth previously mentioned in this article. As suggested by the theory on myth already discussed, alterations of myth likely result from political motivation either on the part of the individual teller or through the influence of greater political powers. The author writes, Whether it depends on oral or written, literary or popular sources, every story is the result of a selection and organization of facts, within which certain relationships are established or privileged in preference to others (Ibid., 114).It is this point that leads Brillante to argue that it is important for scholars today to try and ascertain which myths may have been altered for political purposes and why (Ibid., 111). To do this Brillante provides some guidelines in order to conduct a more accurate reading of a myth. Three things are necessary: one, various narratives of the myth must be available; two, the historical circumstances indicated as the more or less proximate causes must be relatively clear; and three, scholars must possess a series of parallel stories that show the originality of the altered version (Ibid., 112).Needless to say, it is very difficult to meet all these requirements in order to conduct an accurate reading of Greek myth, especially if one relies only upon text. Brillante makes a mistake however when he writes, For our knowledge of Greek mythology we possess only traditions known from literature (Ibid. 113). What Brillante fails to acknowledge is that Greek myth also comes to us in the form of visual media like pottery, architecture, and other art forms. This brings us to methodology presented by Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood.

Sourvinou-Inwoods Methodological Approach

The question we face now is how do we apply all the previously mentioned theory to the material culture of a people that no longer exists? Some might argue that without people you are lacking in context, and therefore must rely more heavily on the text. This kind of thinking contributed to archaeologys early role as a handservant to history and is therefore problematic. As a result, some scholars have risen to the challenge by reimagining our understanding of the material culture. One way to reimagine material culture is to view artifacts with mythological motifs as myths being told through a medium that is not oral, but visual. That being the case, we can look at these images and try to understand the social structures and historical events that may have shaped their creation in the same way anthropologists have done with transcribed myths. A wonderful example of how this may be achieved is Christiane Sourvinou-Inwoods work on mythology and Greek vase painting.In her essay, Sourvinou-Inwood proposes a methodology for reading ancient images that she applies to a case study of mythological scenes painted on fifth-century Athenian vases. She focuses particularly on the iconographic theme of Theseus, with a drawn sword in his right hand, pursuing a woman, who the author reads as Medea. The methodology Sourvinou-Inwood proposes is a combined iconographic and semantic analysis of the Theseus with a sword theme (Sourvinou-Inwood 1990, 395).In order to gain a more complete reading of these images, Sourvinou-Inwood suggests that scholars need to be able to reconstruct the perceptual filters through which images were inscribed and read in fifth century Athens, and this is where her iconographic and semantic analysis comes in. What the author means by iconographic is the conventions, codifications, and modalities of the signifying system of Greek iconography. Semantic, on the other hand, refers to:the knowledge, ideas, assumptions, and mentality that constitute the semantic fields related to, inscribed in, and called up by, the signifiers under consideration in the two processes of meaning production, the inscription of meanings in the representations by the painters and the extraction of meaning, the making sense of the scenes, by the viewers (Ibid., 398).Both analyses are important for two reasons. The first reason that the author offers is that iconographic symbols can be highly variable in both appearance and what they represent, and even the recognition of resemblance between an iconic sign and the represented object is culture dependent. The second reason for having semantic analyses complementing iconographic analyses is because the reading of an image is a complex process involving a continuous to and fro movement between the image and the readers semantic universe (Ibid., 399). This suggests to the author that the fifth-century Athenians deployed their semantic assumptions in the process of recognizing, organizing, and reading the iconographic elements that made up the images seen on vases and this is why both analyses are essential to our own interpretation.By applying these two analyses to the Theseus with sword theme, Sourvinou-Inwood interprets the image as a mythological paradigm for the Greek, and especially Athenian, victories over the Persians. Theseus, a former king of Athens, is chasing the Oriental woman Medea out of Attica, which is an event referred to in Greek mythology. According to the author, Medea was explicitly identified with the invading Persian armies in fifth century Greece. A connection was made between Medeas ancestry to the Medes and the Persian Wars. As a result, this theme became part of the mythohistorical discourse deployed as part of the historical and political discourse of the present (Ibid., 413). Finally, Sourvinou-Inwoods approach to these painted images speaks to the importance of context in order to fully understand and interpret those images. She writes, The fact that the fleeing woman is a codified sign that occurs in a variety of subjects does not make it meaninglesssigns acquire meaning in context (Ibid., 423). To build off this idea, the variability of versions of myth and mythological images in Greek archaeology should not be credited solely to the whims of individuals, but to the ways in which social and historical influences shaped that image within a specific moment in time.

Applying Theory and Methodology to Greek/Egyptian Relations

Although the literature has provided much of our knowledge on Greek myth and history, scholars like Sourvinou-Inwood are proving that archaeological remains can both challenge and/or augment that knowledge. Through the use of good anthropological theory and methodology, it may be possible to gain a fuller understanding of the ancient Greek mindset.In passing, Sourvinou-Inwood mentions how, like the Theseus with sword theme, many other themes came to represent mythological paradigms of and metaphors for the Persian Wars, including the Trojan War, the Amazonomachy and the Centauromachy (Ibid., 414). A lot of art history of the Classical world has focused on these themes specifically. For the rest of this paper I will illustrate how archaeologists could use these theories and methodology in order to discover other mythological paradigms that do not pertain specifically to the Persians and the Persian War, but to other cultures. For my own research I focus on representations of the sphinx in ancient Greek material culture, specifically the scene of Oedipus facing the Sphinx sitting atop a Greek stylized column, which is depicted on many painted vases. Like Medeas assumed association with the Persians, the Sphinx likely acted as a representation of the Egyptians to the Greeks. By analyzing these images based on the historical and cultural context in which they were created, I hope to understand how the ancient Greeks perceived their Egyptian neighbors.

Early Greek and Egyptian Interactions

In order to determine how the ancient Greeks may have understood their Egyptian neighbors, it is important to know how the two cultures interacted with each other over time. Close proximity of the two regions on the Mediterranean Sea meant that the two groups were bound to come into contact with each other at some point. The nature of this contact appears to change over time. There are instances of peaceful trade between the two regions, while at other times the Greeks and Egyptians found themselves in conflict with each other. This came to a head during the Persian Wars of the early fifth-century BC. Some of the earliest stories about interactions between the Greeks and Egyptians center around a character known as Sesostris. The ancient Greek historian Herodotus explains how this Egyptian pharaoh conducted widespread conquests: According to the report of the priests, [Sesostris] took a great army and marched over the continent, subduing every nation which stood in his way (Herodotus 2.102).The name of Sesostris has been identified as a kind of composite heroic Middle Kingdom ruler most likely representing the 12th dynasty pharaoh Senusret III. Senusrets reign lasted from 1870-1831 BC and during that time he campaigned in Nubia which resulted in some very bitter wars. The pharaoh was successful and he set up stele in the fortresses of Semna and Uronarti with their inscriptions reminding everyone of Senusrets conquest and punishments (Callender 2000, 166). Herodotus suggests that Sesostriss conquest was much more widespread than that of Senusrets however. He notes that similar stele were set up in Syrian Palestine and even in the Greek territory of Ionia: Moreover there are two figures of this man carved upon rocks, one on the road by which one goes from the land of Ephesos to Phocacia, and the other on the road from Sardis to Smyrna. In each place there is a figure of a man cut in the rock, of nearly seven feet in height, holding in his right hand a spear and in his left a bow and arrows, and the other equipment which he has is similar to this, for it is both Egyptian and EthiopianSome of those who have seen these carvings conjecture that the figure is Memnon, but herein they are very far from the truth (Herodotus 2.106).

Originally some scholars discounted Herodotuss claims to this early interaction of conquest between the Greeks and Egyptians. The brief mention of Memnon alludes to another conquest story attributed to Ammenemes II, also a 12th Dynasty ruler of Egypt. Bernal suggests that both legendary cycles and their connection to Greece may be true based on an inscription of Memphis which details the conquests, by land and sea, of two 12th Dynasty pharaohs, Senusret I and Ammenmes II (Bernal 1987). This evidence suggests that it is highly likely contacts with the Aegean existed during the 12th Dynasty, but it remains unclear to what extent Egypt gained political or economic control over any parts of the eastern Mediterranean (Shaw 2000, 325). Although it may be impossible to determine which Egyptian pharaoh may have first led a military campaign against Greece, it does seem probable that the predecessors of the historical Greeks and Egyptians experienced conflict during their early interactions.Early evidence of trade occurring between Egypt and the Greeks predecessors, the Mycenaeans. Late Mycenaean (ca. 1500-1100 BC) pottery in the form of stirrup jars have been discovered in some quantitiy on over a dozen different Egyptian sites ranging from as far up the Nile as Thebes and as far south as Aswan and Nubia (Boardman 1999, 111). Despite this evidence of contact, Boardman argues that the jars are indicative of only a brisk trade in oil and not proof of habitation of the Greek peoples predecessors within Egypt itself (Ibid.). At this point in history, archaeologists are confident that there is contact between these two cultural groups, but not necessarily migration between the two regions.This begins to change with the introduction of the Sea Peoples recorded during the reign of Rameses III (1184-1153 BC). Before Rameses III, during the reign of Merenptah (1213-1203 BC) some of these Sea Peoples had attempted to enter Egypt from the west (Dijk 2000, 305). It was not until Rameses reign though that sources began to indicate that the Sea Peoples were not simply engaged in random acts of plundering throughout the Mediterranean during this time. Instead, it was a significant movement of displaced peoples migrating into Syro-Palestine and Egypt (Shaw 2000, 328). Located at the site of Medinet Habu in Egypt is a mortuary temple built during the eighth year of Ramses IIIs reign (Shaw 2000, 15). On the exterior of the north wall of this temple is the deptiction of a sea battle with the Sea Peoples (Dijk 2000, 305). The images of the Sea People portray them not only as armies and warriors, but also as families bringing over their possessions in ox-drawn carts in order to settle in the places they have invaded. Study of the tribal names associated with the Sea Peoples as recorded by the Egyptians and Hittites has shown that various groups of the Sea Peoples can be linked with particular homelands. Two of these tribal names include the Ekwesh and Denen which may be possible correaltions for the Achaean and Danean Greeks of the Iliad (Shaw, Egypt and the Outside World 2000, 328). During this time, it is quite possible that Greeks began to migrate into Egypt itself.Archaeologist Ian Shaw describes how from the earliest times in Egyptian history, expeditions with the goal of trade, quarrying, and warfare brought the Egyptians into repeated contact with foreigners (Shaw 2000, 314). Though there may have been some early contact between the Greeks early predecessors and Egyptions during the 19th century BC, it wasnt until the 8th century BC before trade between the two regions picked up (Skinner 2012, 99). Egyptian trinkets such as scarabs, beads, amulets, faience seals, ivories, vases and figurines were all circulating widely by the mid-seventh century. From the eighth-century onward, many small portable objects were traded thoughout the Mediterranean via Cyprus and Phoenicia. Meanwhile, workshops on the island of Rhodes began to produce objects in faience in the early seventh century. Many such Egyptianizing artifacts have been discovered on the islands of Samos and Crete (Ibid.).However, we only really begin to hear about a Greek presence within Egypt with the rise of the Egyptian pharaoh Psammetichos I in 664 BC (Boardman 1999, 112). This is also where we have the first literary evidence for Greeks in Egypt, again coming from Herodotuss The Histories. In Book II Herodotus recounts an oracle given to Psammetichos foretelling the arrival of the Greeks:After he had sent to the Oracle of Letoto him came the reply that vengeance would come when men of bronze appeared from the sea. And he was strongly disposed not to believebut after no long time had passed, certain Ionians and Carians who had sailed for plunder were compelled to come to shore in Egypt, and they having landed and being clad in bronze armour, came to the marsh-landPerceiving that the saying of the Oracle was coming to pass, [Psammetichos] dealt in a friendly manner with the Ionians and Carians (Herodotus 2.152).

At the beginning of Psammetichos Is reign (664-610 BC), the pharaoh decided to enlist the help of foreign mercenaries in a bid to assert his authority as ruler of Lower Egypt as well as to get rid of the Assyrian invaders (Skinner 2012, 101). Archaeological evidence of Greek mercenaries in Psammetichos Is army comes from a Greek inscription carved on the leg of one of the colossi at Abu Simbel. The inscription indicates that Greek mercenaries, under Egyptian command, formed one of the two corps in the army whose supreme commander was also Egyptian (Lloyd 2000, 372). Boardman actually attributes this inscription to the later reign of Psammetichos II (595-589 BC). In 591 BC the Egyptian army campaigned against the Nubian kingdom which had been threatening Lower Egypt. Various Greek inscriptions found at the Abu Simbel site are attributed to Greek and Carian soldiers. Most of these inscriptions are hardly more than idle exhibitionist scratchings with which soldiers and others can always be relied upon to deface any convenient wall or monument (Boardman 1999, 116). The inscription that Lloyd alludes to reads:When King Psammetichos had come to Elephantine, this was written by those who sailed with Psammeitchos, son of Theokles, who went as far upstream as they could-above Kerkis. Potasimto led the foreigners and Amasis the Egyptians. This was written by Archon son of Amoibichos and Pelekos son of Eudamos (Boardman 1999, 116).

Similar evidence suggests the pharaohs continued to employ Greek mercenaries in their armies. During Nechos reign (610-595 BC) the pharaoh saw fit to dedicate his armour from the Egyptian campaign against the Syrians in 608 BC. The dedicated armour was discovered at the temple of Apollo at Branchidae located near Miletus. This suggests Greek soldiers may have been included in the Syrian campaign (Boardman 1999, 115). At the site of Carchemish similar evidence of Greek participation in Nechos army was discovered in the ruins of a well furnished house filled with Egyptian objects. Some of the objects included sealings naming King Necho as well as a Greek bronze shield. Boardman infers that the shield may have been carried into the battle at Carchemish in 605 BC by a Greek soldier in the pay of the Egyptian king (Ibid.).Whether these men were soldiers for Psammetichos I or one of his later descendants is perhaps less important than the evidence that Greeks acted as mercenaries in Egyptian armies towards the end of the seventh-century BC. Those who served the pharaoh were rewarded with grants of land close to the sea on the Pelusian mouth of the Nile. According to Skinner, the Carians settled on one side of the river and the Ionians on the other. Psammetichos I also began to actively encourage trade between Greece and Egypt (Skinner 2012, 101). Greeks would continue to serve as mercenaries for the Egyptian army, but revolts are not unheard of later on in the sixth-century BC (Lloyd 2000, 372).After Psammetichos IIs reign ended, the pharaoh Apries came into power. During his reign, which lasted from 589-570 BC, there is evidence of a revolt of mercenaries at Elephantine (Lloyd 2000, 372). Despite this, Apries continued to use Greek mercenaries. Excavations at Tell Defenna indicate the site was used as a permanent base for Greek mercenaries. The site, believed to be constructed by Psammetichos I, includes a civilian settlement which yielded a substantial quantity of Greek infantry equipment (Ibid., 373). Toward the end of Apriess reign, Egyptian soldiers, described by the Greeks as machiomoi, began to resent the preference shown to foreign troops. Herodotus mentions how a group of machiomoi mutinied and withdrew from Egypt due to the privileged position of Greeks and Carians in the military establishment (Herodotus 2.178-9). Ahmose II, also known as Amasis within contemporary records, took advantage of the displeasure of the machiomoi in order to mount an attack against Apries and his army of mercenaries at Momemphis in 570 BC (Ibid.). Apriess army of 30,000 Carians and Ionians was defeated, allowing Ahmose II to usurp the throne. According to Boardman, this event is also recounted on a stele found in Cairo, known today as the Elephantine Stele (Boardman 1999, 117).Although Ahmose II originally opposed to the Greek mercenaries, he too began too favor them during his reign from 570 to 526 BC. Early on in his reign Ahmose II used the Greeks in his battle against the Babylonian king, Nebuchadnezzar. He also eventually married a Greek princess from Cyrene (Boardman 1999, 117). However, this did not mean that the strife between the machiomoi and the Greek mercenaries had dissipated. Ahmose II was forced to move the mercenary camps from Stratopeda to Memphis in order to protect him from his own people. This lead Ahmose to establish the settlement of Naucratis, an important site for Greek production and trade (Ibid.). This same event is also mentioned by Herodotus:These men king Amasis afterwards removed and established them at Memphis, making them into a guard for himself against the Egyptians (Herodotus 2.154).

Throughout Ahmose IIs reign, archaeological evidence indicates that Greek pottery is arriving in Memphis, mainly East Greek in style (Rhodian, Fikellura, & Clazomenian) suggesting that a Greek mercenary camp has indeed been established there (Boardman 1999, 135). Ahmose II also becomes the first pharaoh to take real interest in the Greek people for more than just their fighting capabilities by encouraging trade and mirgration between the two regions, which allowed for the two groups to share and learn new cultural ideas and technologies (Ibid., 142).

Enter Here the SphinxNow that some historical context between Greece and Egypt has been established, it is possible to look at what is happening on the cultural level. We know that the Greeks predecessors the Mycenaeans had some early contact with Egypt as far back as the 12th century BC. Yet when Greeks from Asia Minor were able to establish a colony at the site of Naucratis in Egypt sometime during the seventh century BC, it exposed the entire Greek culture to existing Egyptian stone buildings. This encouraged Greek architects throughout the Mediterranean to use more stable materials than mudbrick and wood, prompting the movement towards monumental Greek architecture being produced in stone (Pedley 2012, 131).Another aspect of the colossal Egyptian buildings that the Greeks were exposed to were their use of columns. Egyptian columns often included elaborately carved capitals and bases. This is an important point, because although Greek art was also being influenced by Near Eastern cultures at this time, those cultures did not build columns out of stone and they held comparatively little importance within building structures (Boardman 1999, 143). Stone mouldings and capitals were also virtually unknown in the Near East cultures at this time, so the influence on Greek stylized columns originates solely from Egypt. This is not to say that the Greeks simply imitated Egyptian columns, but instead adapted them to local traditional architectual forms which resulted in the Doric order of architecture on mainland Greece (Ibid.).At about the same time the Greeks began experimenting with monumental stone structure, they began to develop techniques for making monumental stone sculptures. The inspiration, once again, came from Egypt where colossal stone statuary was commonplace. This influence resulted in the production of sculptures of nude youths known as kouroi. Although modelled from Egyptian statuary, again the Greeks declined to copy blindly and eventually developed their own cannon for representing the human form (Boardman 1999, 144). Nevertheless, the influence of Egypt on Greek art is evident.Boardman also points out how a number of Greek sculptural forms besides the kouroi resulted from contact with Egypt. The great avenue of marble lions on the sacred island of Delos must surely have been inspired by Egyptian avenues of lions, sphinxes, or rams (Boardman 1999, 144). He also argues that a processional way flanked by seated figures and lions located near Miletus seemed to be conceived in much the same spirit. One passage in The Histories does suggest that the Greeks had been recently exposed to these types of avenues:First in Sais [Amasis] built and completed for Athen a temple-gateway which is a great marvel, and he far surpassed herein all before, both in regard to height and greatness, so large are the stones and of such quality. Then he dedicated the great colossal statues and man-headed sphinxes very large (Herodotus 2.175).

This is the first, and virtually the only mention of a sphinx in Herodotuss work. However, the sphinx has a long history in both Egyptian and Greek culture before the fifth-century BC. The sphinx is represented in both Egypt and Mesopotamia from the first half of the third millenium and it is probable that it began as a solar symbol in Egypt (Bernal 1987, 374). It is also argued by Bernal that the later winged form of the sphinx (used by the Greeks) also developed in Egypt as an analogy for the griffin which was also used to represent royalty throughout the Mediterranean and Middle East (Ibid.).Within Egypt, the sphinx is often connected with royalty and conquest. It is believed that the Greek name sphinx probably derives from the Egyptian phrase shesep-ankh, which means living image (Malek 2000, 97). The best known example of a sphinx within Egypt is the Great Sphinx included in Khafras pyramid complex built around the 26th century BC. Beginning during the early 18th Dynasty (c. 1550 BC) the Sphinx was worshiped as a local form of the god Horus (Ibid.). A few decades after the Great Sphinxs construction (ca. 2400 BC) a building was built in front of the Sphinx. This building is interpreted as an early sun-temple, an important aspect for Egyptian pharaohs who liked to designate themselves as son of Ra (Ibid.).Bernal is careful to note however that Syria always played an important role in the sphinxs iconographic development and dissemination. At the site of Salamis in eastern Cyprus, an island located in the far east of the Mediterranean Sea, various royal tombs include a wide range of local and imported materials (Gunter 2009, 21). Tomb 79, the most elaborately furnished of these tombs, contained a spectacular collection of metal and ivory artifacts, two of which depict a sphinx (See Sphinx Catalogue #1-2).One of these images comes from an ivory chair with Phoenician-style openwork cloisonn panels of stylized trees and sphinxes (Ibid.). Although winged sphinxes are more closely associated with Neo-Assyrian art, this sphinx wears the Nemes headdress along with the Pschent or double crown worn by Egyptian pharaohs often referred to as sekhemti by ancient Egyptians (Ibid.). Another sphinx image from Tomb 79, this time engraved in bronze, again depicts a winged sphinx with the Nemes headdress along with a sun disk behind the creatures head. These artifacts suggest that images of a winged sphinx with Egyptian associations did travel to Greece via trade networks in the Eastern Mediterranean around the seventh century BC. Boardman agrees that many early Egyptian motifs the Greeks were exposed to may have been transmitted via the Near East before the sixth-century BC. (Boardman 1999, 144). However, this begins to change, and by the sixth century BC the introduction of new art forms and images resulted from direct contact between Egypt and Greece as seen by a peculiarly Egyptian lion [which] is adopted by Spartan bronze workers and appears on the handles of bronze vases (Ibid., 144,147). For either scenario, Boardman deduces the ultimate origin of all is quite clearly Egyptian (Ibid., 144).Besides the archaeological evidence for an Egyptian association with the sphinx, some of the early Greek mythology draws connections between the human-headed lion monster and Egypt. In his own work Bernal recounts the origin myths for the Greek city-state of Thebes. Amphion and Zethos were the first founder of Thebes, and its other founder, Kadmos, arrives later from the Near East after the original city of Thebes had been destroyed. Similar to the famous Egyptian pyramids where the Great Sphinx keeps guard, the tomb of Amphion and Zethos was associated with the sun. Bernal also points out the close association between Greek Thebes and the sphinx from the myth of Oedipus (Bernal 1987, 19).Even if we look at the slightly mythologized accounts of the Egyptian pharaoh Sesostris, connections between the sphinx and Egyptian pharaohs is recognized by the ancient Greeks. Bernal suggests that the Egyptian phrase for the sphinx, shesep-ankh, possibly came from the Story of Sinuhe (lines 249-250) to describe the sphinxes that guarded the palace of Sesostris (Bernal 1987, 374). Indeed it seems that Senusret I, one of the pharaohs on which the composite hero Sesostris was based, exploited the stone quarries of Wadi Hammamat, Sinai, Hatnub, and Wadi el-Hudi in order to extract enough rock to make sixty sphinxes and 150 other assorted statues. His numerous monuments were distributed from lower Nubia in the south to Heliopolis and Tanis in the north (Callender 2000, 161). As a result, it seems reasonable to suspect that Greeks had a long-standing association between Egypt and the sphinx.On the other hand, like all other artforms Greeks adopted from the Egyptians, they did not simply imitate what they saw. Instead, the Greeks transformed the sphinx in order to meld it with their own local traditions. While the Egyptians used the human-headed lion form of the sphinx as a representation of conquest and the divine power of the Pharoh, the Greeks reimagined the beast within their own mythology. The Greeks changed the sphinxs sex from male to female andpermanently added wings. The Sphinx is called Phix () by Hesiod in line 326 of the Theogony, but eventually the Greek word (sphinx) was adopted, from the verb (sphng), meaning to squeeze, to tighten up. As mentioned previously in this essay, the Greek word seems to be a corrupted translation of the sphinxs Egyptian name shesep-ankh (Malek 2000, 97).The sphinx became a deadly monster that besieged the city of Thebes within Greek mythology (Apollodorus 3.5.8).Though the sphinxs name and qualities have been altered within Greek mythology itself, some of its Egyptian qualities persisted in the new cultural context. In the same way the Great Sphinx guards the resting place of Egyptian pharaohs, sphinxes in Greece often appear in funerary contexts on top of tombs including those in the Kerameikos cemetery in Athens (See Sphinx Catalogue #4) (Pedley 2012, 185). One sphinx stands apart from those marking graves in Athens and elsewhere. Around 560 BC the Greek Naxians dedicated a sphinx statue at Delphi (See Sphinx Catalogue #3). The dedication consists of a tall column with an Ionic capital with widely separate volutes. The sphinx sits atop the column standing at about 10 meters in height altogether. Pedley describes how the Naxian sphinx is crouching menacingly (Pedley 2012, 185). This piece is very intriguing because it is not associated with a tomb and the sphinx sits atop an Ionic column. I speculate that the Naxians were drawing a connection between Egypt and the sphinx. Both the sphinx and stylized columns were inspired by Egyptian monumental art and it appears that the Naxians have one of the earliest schools of sculpture in Greece dating back to the Archaic Period (700-480 BC) (Ibid., 181-182). Though it is not clear if the Naxians took part in the early mercenary groups in Egypt, Herodotus does speak of Ionians in Naucratis (Herodotus 2.154), the Greek trading post in Egypt established during the reign of Ahmose II. The Ionians could have inluded some Naxians who spoke in the Ionic dialect. Even if that is not the case, Ionic people did have a direct link to Egypt through the trading post Naucratis. Like modern viewers, the Naxian sphinx may have inspired feelings of a looming threat for the ancient Greeks. It is also possible that the sphinx served as an apotropaic device. Powell defines this as a magical means of protection from the evil. The apotropaic device acts on the magical principle that like is effective against like (Powell 2012, 373). I am somewhat reluctant to say that the threatening sphinx found on many fifth-century Attic pottery served such a purpose. However there is an example of a later Attic red-figure kantharos dating to 440-430 BC depicting Oedipus and the Sphinx in conjuction with a relief of a Gorgon head on the lid (See Sphinx Catalogue #15). In contrast to the sphinx, the Gorgon head is often employed as an apotropaic device in Greek art (Ibid.). In the case of this piece, it is quite possible the sphinx, in in combination with with the Gorgons head, is meant to turn away evil. As such, it would suggest that the Greeks viewed the sphinx as an evil, or at least negative force that could deflect other negative forces like the evil eye. Such an interpretation is not out of the realm of possibility since tensions between Egyptian soldiers and Greek mercenaries were never truly addressed by the end of Ahmose IIs reign. Beyond that, a much larger conflict awaited the Greeks and the Egyptians that would further exacerbate relations between the two regions.

The Persian War and After-EffectsIn the year of 525 BC the Persian empire invaded Egypt not long after Ahmose II had established stong trade and military relation with the Greeks. In that same year, the Battle of Pelusium led to the defeat and capture of the Egyptian pharaoh Psammetichos III by the Persian king Cambyses. This event also marks the First Persian Period (525-359 BC) where Egypt served under Persian rule (Lloyd 2000, 383). While under Persian control, Egypt was forced to take part in the Persian Empires campaign against their fellow neighboring people; the Greeks. Before the Persions invaded mainland Greece in 492 BC and then again in 490 BC, Egyptian craftsmen were employed by the Persian Empire for building operations in both Egypt and Persia. As a satrapy of the empire Egypt was also exploited to the full in order to advance Persian imperial expansion. This includes a naval assault against the Greek town of Miletus that brought the Ionian Revolt against Persia to an end in 494 BC (Lloyd 2000, 384). Although Egypt had worked militarily with Greek mercenaries in recent history, as well as allowed for Greek immigrants to establish towns within Egypt, the two cultures now found themselves in direct conflict with each other under Persian influence.The first Persian War lead by Darius ceased with the Athenian victory at the Battle of Marathon in 490 BC. However the conflict continued when Dariuss son, Xerxes, invaded the mainland Greek states with an even larger army and navy in 480-479 BC (Mee 2011, 31). Herodotus testifies that the Egyptians supplied ropes for Xerxess bridge of boats across the Hellespont, as well as their assistance with the construction:To this foreland they on whom this work was laid were making their bridges, starting from Abydos, the Phenicians [sic] constructing one with ropes of white flax, and Egyptians the other, which was made with papyrus rope (Herodotus 7.34).

Herodotus also reports on the 200 Egyptian triremes under the command of Xerxess brother, Achaemenes. During the battle of Artemisium, this contingent was able to capture five Greek ships and their crews (Lloyd 2000, 384). However, the Egyptians did not perform as well at the subsequent battles of Salamis and Plataea. Herodotus recounts how Achaemenes likes to place blame for the loss of the Battle of Salamis on Persias conscripted allies, and not on the Persian leaders themselves:Do not, king, let the Persians be an object of laughter to the Hellenes; for none of your affairs have suffered by means of the Persians, nor will you be able to mention any place where we proved ourselves cowards: but if Phenicians [sic] or Egyptians or Cyprians or Kilikians proved themselves cowards, the calamity which followed does not belong to the Persians in any way (Herodotus 8.100).

The loss at Plataea is described by Herodotus in a similar manner and it is interesting to note how the historian seems to believe there is disinclination on the part of Persias conscripted allies to fight against the Greeks. Overall, it would appear as if Herodotus believed that Persia was the responsible party for this war, and everyone else was a reluctant participant. Persias loss at the Battle of Plataea in 479 BC effectively ended the war in Greece, but Egypt would not gain its own indepedence until 404 BC. Most of our sources for this time period are actually Greek and so likely reflect the interests of classical observers and readers. Despite Egypts role in the Persian invasion of Greece, the Greek people still hold a strong interest in the neighboring Egytptians. Even when independence from Persia was achieved, Egypt had to cope with political instability due to competition between Egyptian families making claims to the throne. As a result, there is a long period of short reigns of Egyptian pharaohs. Such claims are further complicated by the sectional interests of the native Egyptian warrior class, Greek mercenary captains, and, less obviously, the Egyptian priesthood (Lloyd 2000, 385). This quote suggests that Greece did indeed have a continued military and political interest in Egypt.At the end of the Persian Wars, the Greek poleis Athens and Sparta emerged as the dominant Greek states.Victory inspired the Athenians to establish their own empire which alarmed Sparta and their Peloponnesian and Boetian allies. In order to keep the Athenians in check, the Spartans led a number of military campaigns in the 450s and 440s BC (Pedley 2012, 250). Eventually, the rivalry between the two Greek city-states escalated until a civil war broke out in 431 BC, known today as the Second Peloponnesian War (Mee 2011, 31). The Athenians also suffered another devastating event in the summer of 430 BC when a plague struck the crowded city of Athens (Pollitt 1972, 111). The war lasted until 404 BC when Sparta was finally able to defeat Athens. However internal conflict continued in Greece until the rise of the Macedonian Empire led by Phillip II, whose victory at the Battle of Chaironeia in 338 BC effectively ended Greek independence (Mee 2011, 31-32). The Peloponesian War and the plague that hit Athens forced the Greeks to undergo a moral and social revolution which affected Greek culture, including art (Pollitt 1972, 111)While the Greeks became more concerned with local events, Egypt continued to maintain a military interest in Greece, in part to help prevent Persia from taking control of Egypt once again. For the most part, Egypt employed diplomatic means and sometimes even bribery to keep out the Persians, but that did not hamper the Egyptian rulers practice of hiring Greek mercenaries for the few instances where direct military intervention by army or naval units became necessary (Lloyd 2000, 388). However, the old conflict between Greek and Egyptian soldiers never really disappeared, especially at the high command level of the Egyptian army. Jealousy between Egyptian and foreign generals would often spark a revolt. One such event took place beginning in 360 BC when the Greek Agesilaus was given command of the Greeks only whilst the pharaoh Teos (362-360 BC) controlled the Egyptian troops and also retained overall command of the army. This worked only for a short time, for when the pharaoh Nectanebo II 360-343 BC came into power, martial failings on his part (descibed as ineptitude and cowardice) eventually led to Egypts loss of freedom to Persia once again (Lloyd 2000, 389). Although tense relations between the Greeks and Egyptians persisted after the end of the Persian Wars, over time subsequent wars and other disastrous events in Greece likely forced the ancient Greeks to shift their attention away from their conflict with the neighboring Egptians towards more internal affairs. The long-standing conflict between Egypt and Greece and the later shift in focus on the part of the Greeks are reflected in the introduction and the subsequent abandonment of a particular mythological scene used on painted vases during the 5th century BC.

Othering the Barbarians

With the end of the Persian War in 479 BC, the Greeks began to undergo a cultural transformation. The threat of the Persian invading forces heightened a developing collective Greek self-awareness (Gunter 2009, 52). This resulted in the elaboration of a rhetoric of Hellenic identity, which opposed Greeks versus barbarians, and democracy against despotism. Before the Persian War, the Greek worldview did not embrace such a polarized division between the Greek and barbarian. At the time, the Greeks were more inclined to find common ground with neighboring groups based on literary representations present before the 5th century BC (Gunter 2009, 57). However, once such a division was established with the end of the Persian War, it was forcefully articulated in antiquity, in the Classical period as well as in later learned commentary (Ibid., 52-53). On the other hand, Gunter does acknowledge that before the Persian War, the Archaic worldview was extremely complex and it exhibited a gradually increased differentiation between Greeks and non-Greeks (Ibid., 55).This division between Greek and barbarian can be thought of as a sort of stereotyping taking place for each group. Stereotyping or othering is one example of identity formation, or at least the crystallization of identities, resulting from conflict originally described in Edward Said's book Orientalism. Saids work helped to pave the way for anthropologists and scholars to theorize about how other cultures are constructed. Such identity formation does not only occur within the minds of individuals, but it is also expressed in material culture. In his introduction, Said claims, Orientalism expresses and represents that part culturally and even ideologically as a mode of discourse with supporting institutions, vocabulary, scholarship, imagery, doctrines, even colonial bureaucracies and colonial styles (Said 1978, 2).

Skinner has built upon Saids work by exploring the ways in which the ancient Greeks categorized Others through stereotyping. According to him, stereotypes and stereotyping from a social-psychological perspective are an important means of making sense of the world and therefore possess a certain moral ambivalence (Skinner 2012, 115). He argues that rather than simply focusing upon the extent to which stereotypes form the basis for erroneous or pejorative beliefs concerning particular groups, scholars should instead try to understand how the social and historical context shapes those beliefs. Placing stereotypes within their wider context illustrates how stereotyping serves as a cognitive function designed to help individuals deal effectively with social complexity on a day-to-day basis (Ibid., 116).That is not to say that all stereotypes are negative, even within the context of ancient Greece. In some cases, barbarians are represented as the pinnacle of refinement and taste (Skinner 2012, 119). Gunter also mentions how a sort of inverse or negative ethnocentrism can be discerned within Greek thought. She gives the example of the Ethiopians known as the eschatoi andrn or the furthest of men. Peoples of the most distant lands became the ethical or moral paradeigmata for the Greeks. The Ethiopians for example, were termed as the blameless Ethiopians who enjoyed a close association with the gods, who frequently stayed with them, feasting in their land of super-natural abundance (Gunter 2009, 57). Gunter concludes that Other does not invariably correlate with an unflattering of derogatory construction of not us (Ibid.).Again, comprehending the context helps us to better understand how the Greeks constructed such stereotypes and whether those stereotypes had a positive or negative connotation. Many stereotypes of a particular group or polity may exist. Which stereotype is used and when it is used will likely be dictated by the context. Skinner suggests that stereotypes must be understood as occurring on an ad hoc basis: a process in which groups or individuals selectively affirm, deny, or gloss over a variety of known qualities and stock attributes associated with a specific category of foreigner (Skinner 2012, 117-118). This is very similar to what Malinowski suggested in regards to the historical and social context of myths. Stereotypes, therefore, perform a very similar function to myth within societies.Another important aspect about stereotypes and stereotyping is that it requires some sort of knowledge about foreign peoples. Such knowledge does not need to be accurate; it just needs to be associated with a known group. In order for the Greeks to create a self-identity, they had to contrast based upon knowledge of others. The ubiquity of epithets and stereotypes within ancient Greek literary sources suggests the Greeks did indeed have some underlying knowledge regarding the habits and customs of foreign peoples (Skinner 2012, 120). Based on what we know about the history of interactions between the Greeks and Egyptians, such knowledge was likely acquired by direct contact with foreign people via trade or immigration. Knowledge could also be conveyed in the form of gossip from those having direct contact with foreign peoples, to those without such contact. On the other hand, it has also been noted that direct contact between Egypt and Greece was not well established until the 7th century BC at the earliest. This is perhaps why we do not see strongly established ideas about Greek versus the non-Greek Egyptians until after the Persian War. Skinner writes: Although there is much uncertainty surrounding the manner in which collective identities emerged during the early Archaic period, establishing a consensus as to what was or was not familiar must have played an important role in a process in which knowledge of the foreign or exotic was necessarily implicated (Skinner 2012, 141).

In other words, as the Greeks became well acquainted with foreign cultures during the 7th century BC, they began to develop ideas about group identity, which came to fruition at the beginning of the Classical period.Stereotypes and descriptions of foreignness were not limited to literary texts within ancient Greece. Ethnographic discourse within the Greek world also had an important iconographic dimension where visual cues to foreign identities are pervasive within the archaeological record. Such visual cues of foreignness can be found adorning pots traded in agoras and potters quarters throughout the Mediterranean. Images of foreign peoples are also represented on coins, wrought metalwork, and sculpture. Readings of these images are selectively construed according to a complex nexus of ideas and values, half-truths and imaginings (Skinner 2012, 140). Textual sources can be employed to help us understand these images today, but a much deeper analysis, as that described in Sourvinou-Inwoods work, is necessary in order to discern how the ancient Greeks themselves would have read these images. Skinner also acknowledges that, it can be dangerous to assume that the images we encounter on vases and elsewhere should necessarily correspond to literary traditions with which we are familiar (Ibid., 141). This is why we must place images of foreigners within the historical and cultural context in which they were produced and read by those who were exposed to the images. A historical context has already been established within this paper which helps to illustrate why the Greeks likely associated images of the sphinx with the Egyptians. In focusing on a specific motif of the sphinx, namely of Oedipus facing down the sphinx which was being produced after the Persian War, it is imperative to also comprehend the cultural mindset of the Greeks at this time. With an understanding of the historical and cultural context in which this specific motif was being produced, it is possible to read the image in a similar manner of an ancient Greek.

Transformation of the Greek Mindset

Within Classical art history, the Archaic era of Greece ends conventionally around the year 480 BC, which marks the end of the Persian invasion of Greece. This era is followed by a thirty-year period of transition leading to the High Classical era within Greek art and history. This transition period is denoted in the archaeological record by a distinctive figural style termed as the Severe Style (Pedley 2012, 207). Scholars attribute this transition in Greek art to an unprecedented rise in self-confidence and eagerness resulting from their unexpected victory over the Persians. Besides artistic expression, the Greeks also experimented with new forms of thought and social organization as illustrated by Gunter and Skinner (Powell 2012, 32).With their astonishing defeat of the Persians, the Greeks did indeed gain a new self-confidence, but they acquired a new uneasiness as well. Confidence and optimism arose from the victory, but this was tempered by ideas about hybris or arrogance and unbridled ambition without restraint. The Greeks believed that Persian hybris led to ate (folly), and finally nemesis (retribution) in the form of Persias failed invasion of Greece (Pollitt 1972, 22-23). The Greeks on the other hand, with their restrained, group-conscious way of life, had received divine sanction and justification. From henceforth, the Greeks needed be careful to not repeat the follies of their Persian neighbors.This new self-confidence as well as uneasiness has a significant influence on Greek art as well. Pollitt attributes the new severity of Early Classical art to two factors: One is an anti-traditional feeling, which in this period means to some extent an anti-oriental feeling and the other was the new emphasis on personal and group responsibility (Pollitt 1972, 43). Focusing on the first factor, as I discussed earlier, the Archaic Greek art style was heavily influenced by the Egyptian and Near Eastern art traditions, though the Greeks often adapted these art forms to their own local traditions. After the Persian War however, the Orient was increasingly viewed as barbarous and contemptible. Another element to consider is how Greek tyrants who had been on good terms with foreign monarchs, and often modeled themselves after those monarchs had actually fostered Archaic art in many ways. Pollitt suggests that with the end of the invasion and a move towards more democratic forms of governance (at least in Athens around 508/7 BC), the Greeks chose to renounce strict patterns like that seen in the kouros stance. They also abandoned the aristocratic love of jewel-like detail in favor of a new repertoire of austerely unembellished but flexible forms, which could be used to express a somber thoughtfulness. This intentional move away from foreign influences allowed the Greeks to achieve an artistic identity which was completely their own (Pollitt 1972, 43).Besides the rejection of strict patterns, Greek sculptures display a tendency toward a reduction in ornamental detail and a reduction of elongation in proportions, which had originally been based on the Egyptian canon for the human form (Pollitt 1972, 41). Pollitt also suggests that Attic red-figure vase painting began to supplant the Archaic emphasis on decorative pattern with an emphasis on emotional expression instead. Yet the red-figure technique was actually developed during the last quarter of the sixth-century BC well before the events of the Persian Wars. One of the first practitioners of this technique was the Andokides Painter whose works were produced around 525-520 BC (Pedley 2012, 200-201). The technique reached its peak in the last twenty years of the Archaic period around 500-480 BC (Ibid., 205).This is important to note since the vase painting medium offers much greater agency for an artists personal whimsicality, consequentially making it easier to find pieces which contradict these broad and essentially valid generalizations (Pollitt 1972, 20). For instance, one group of painters, among whom the Pan Painter was prominent, preferred the old-fashioned conventions of the Archaic period and their pieces reflect the influence of 6th century art forms (Pedley 2012, 242). Another potter, known as Sotades, favored vases with modeled parts (See Sphinx Catalogue #10). Known as plastic vases, Sotades produced these pieces following a practice that had flourished in the Orientalizing period (Ibid., 244). Despite these exceptional cases, Greek art does make a general move away from strict patterns and ornamental detail popularized before the Persian Wars.Similar to the literary texts, art forms of stereotyping were not necessarily negative. Likewise, not all Greek artisans renounced the old forms influenced by foreign peoples, though there was a general movement in the culture to do so. Nevertheless, in order to create a positive Greek identity, many ancient writers and artists had to produce antithetical representations of foreign people. Certain themes in art such as the Trojan War, the Amazonomachy, and the Centauromachy aimed to do just that by acting as mythological paradigms of and metaphors for the Persian War (Sourvinou-Inwood 1990, 414). Ancient Greeks at this time would have read those themes as victory of the civilized and superior (Greek) over the uncivilized and inferior (barbarian) (Ibid.). It is with this in mind that I turn to a specific theme found on Greek pottery immediately following the Persian War; Oedipus facing down the sphinx.

Oedipus Versus the Sphinx

Much of the modern understanding of the Greek myth about Oedipus and the sphinx comes from Apollodorus, a historian and mythographer living in Greece during the second-century BC. He describes the sphinxs origin and its encounter with the hero Oedipus in his work Library. The story of Oedipus and the Sphinx takes place soon after Oedipus has left Corinth and his adopted family. Eventually he arrives at Thebes, a city in turmoil due to the Sphinx. The monster is a daughter of Typhoeus, and she has taken up residence upon a hill nearby Thebes. The Sphinx devours Thebans one by one after they fail to answer the riddle she poses to them. Laius, the king of Thebes, had gone to Delphi in search of help and was subsequently killed by Oedipus (mistakenly). In Laiuss place, his brother-in-law decreed that whoever solved the Sphinxs riddle and freed the city could marry the queen and become the new king of Thebes.Oedipus takes the opportunity and successfully answers the Sphinxs riddle. The monster was so chagrined at the successful answer that she threw herself from the cliff and was dashed on the rocks below. No force on the part of Oedipus was actually required to defeat the Sphinx, just simple reasoning. Thus Oedipus was able to marry the queen and become the king of Thebes (Apollodorus 3.5.8).Similar to the story, the Oedipus and Sphinx motif found on Greek pottery following the Persian War shows no physical altercation taking place between man and monster, unlike other themes like the Centauromachy. One example comes from the interior of an Attic drinking cup dated to around 490 BC, which marks the end of the first Persian invasion led by Darius (See Sphinx Catalogue #7). Powell describes the image thusly:Oedipus is shown as a mature man, fully bearded, wearing a travelers broad-brimmed hat, his left hand poised pensively beneath his chin, his travelers staff between his legs. He ponders the riddle of the Sphinx, a winged lion with a womans head perched on an Ionic column (Powell 2012, 485).

His description of the Sphinx is very similar to Pedleys earlier description of the Naxian Sphinx dedication at Delphi, and at this time, similar monuments of a sphinx perched on top of an Ionic column serve as grave markers within Greece. The myth of Oedipus and the Sphinx, along with our already established cultural and historical understanding of this time period, allows us to make inferences about the ways in which the ancient Greeks would have read such an image.Returning to Sourvinou-Inwoods methodology, in order to read the Oedipus and Sphinx motif we need to reconstruct the perceptual filters through which such images were inscribed and read during their time of production and consumption in fifth-century Greece. These perceptual filters have both an iconographic and semantic element. It is acknowledged that such an analysis is still vulnerable to the intrusion of our modern day culturally determined notions (Sourvinou-Inwood 1990, 398). However, establishing a historical and cultural context for these images helps to reduce such biases. By understanding the semantics, meaning the knowledge, ideas, assumptions, and mentality, deployed by fifth-century Greeks, it is possible to recreate the process of recognizing, organizing, and reading the iconographic elements that made up these images (Ibid., 399). Thus when an ancient Greek looked upon an image of a human-headed lion, his knowledge of myth will tell him Sphinx and Monster of Thebes, but his knowledge of history and culture may also tell him Egyptian. The icon of a human-headed lion draws upon the viewers personal knowledge in order to give it some kind of meaning. By joining this icon with other icons, namely the stylized column and Oedipus, more, and sometimes different, meanings are drawn from the iconographic schema. As noted by recent historical events and trends in Greek art during and after the Persian War, interpretation of the Sphinx and Oedipus motif would have been influenced by a culturally conditioned reception especially geared to seeing (certain types of) myths as metaphors for the Greek victory over Persia and its allies (Sourvinou-Inwood 1990, 414). Such images would have been especially popular in the decades immediately following the war, for this is when their messages would have resonated strongly with the Greek population. Sourvinou-Inwoods sample of production of Theseus and Medea images on Greek pottery concentrates around the decades of 460-440 BC (Ibid., 439). The art historian Thomas H. Carpenter offers a simple summary of images on Greek pottery depicting the Theban Sphinx. Although the sphinx is present in both Mycenaean art and Greek art from the Archaic period, it does not appear in narrative scenes until early in the sixth-century BC (Carpenter 1991, 167). At that time, the sphinx is popularly depicted attacking or carrying youths in Attic black-figure painting (See Sphinx Catalogue #6). During the first half of the fifth-century, there are vases in both the Attic black- and red-figure technique that depict Theban men and youths conversing with the sphinx, presumably trying to answer her riddles (See Sphinx Catalogue #14). While the Theban Sphinx is represented in these various motifs, the only part of the Oedipus myth depicting the Greek hero that appears with any regularity in Greek art is his encounter with the sphinx (Carpenter 1991, 167).According to Carpenter, an identifiable Oedipus and the sphinx theme first appears around 540 BC on a Klazomenian vase. Interestingly though, he notes that the scene does not appear on Attic vases until early in the fifth-century when the events of the Persian War take place (Ibid.). Similar to what Sourvinou-Inwood discovered with the Theseus and Medea theme, the Oedipus and Sphinx motif appears on a few black-figure vases and on red-figure vases starting in the fifth-century and on into the fourth-century (Ibid.). When the Greeks begin to experience internal conflict, eventually leading to the Second Peloponnesian War in 431 BC, the popularity of Greek versus Other motifs on Greek pottery drops off. Social realities are changing at this point in time, for now it is Greek versus Greek, and as we know from Malinowski, myth (including visual representations of myth) transforms over time to reflect the social and political reality of contemporary times.Keeping all of these factors in mind, how might an ancient Greek read the image of Oedipus and the Sphinx? First, it is important to focus on elements of this motif that are being produced over and over again. To start, we have the Sphinx, which is depicted with the head of a woman, the body of a lion, and is also winged. This depiction ties in closely with how the Sphinx is described in myth. However, as illustrated previously in this paper, the Sphinx would have been closely associated with Egypt and its people. Within the mythology, the Sphinx is a foreign element (a monster with foreign parentage) threatening the local Thebans (Greeks). The sense of menace is created through the Sphinxs crouched position, which alludes to her intention of pouncing on, and devouring Oedipus once he answers her riddle. Egypts role in assisting the Persians during the war would have reiterated the idea of the Sphinx as threatening to the Greek people.Though it does not depict the hero Oedipus, there is one particular red-figure piece dating to the second half of the fifth-century that should be considered because it appears to allude to Egypts role in the Persian War (See Sphinx Catalogue #13). On the neck of the oinochoe lies a sphinx, which overlooks a battle taking place between a Persian soldier and a Greek hoplite on the base of the ceramic. Although, the sphinx does not actively take part in the battle below, its presence in the scene does not go unnoticed by the viewer. This corresponds well with how Herodotus described Egypts role in the Persian Wars. Though the Greeks did not view the Egyptians as the instigators of this conflict, neither did they ignore the Egyptians role in assisting the Persians.Returning to the Oedipus and Sphinx motif, another important element seen repeatedly is the stylized column the sphinx crouches upon. This is interesting since within the myth itself, she resides upon a hilltop just outside of Thebes, not on a column. There is some inconsistency about how the column is represented. Sometimes the column has Ionic volutes, which may be influenced by earlier funerary and dedications depicting the sphinx such as the one seen at Delphi (See Sphinx Catalogue #9). In other instances, the column is represented in the Doric style (See Sphinx Catalogue #8). Many of the Oedipus and Sphinx images are being produced within the Attic region on the mainland. The original local architectural style in Attica was Doric, so the painters were likely being influenced by local traditions when creating the image. It is important to note though that many buildings constructed on the Athenian Acropolis during the fifth-century incorporated both Doric and Ionic features (Pedley 2012, 252). This indicates the choice to use a Doric or Ionic column may have simply been a matter of the artists personal taste. In either case, the use of a stylized column instead of a hill is interesting and can again harken back to a connection with Egypt. This particular architectural design was influenced by Egyptian monumental architecture, and the ancient Greeks may have recognized that.Finally there are the depictions of the hero and future king of Thebes, Oedipus. It is interesting to note that in this particular motif of Oedipus and the Sphinx, the Greek hero is represented not as a warrior, but as a traveler. He is often represented with a travellers cloak and a petasos cap. Occasionally, a spear or a scabbard holding a dagger is also depicted, but Oedipus never holds a weapon in a position of attack. As we know from the myth, Oedipus does not employ physical force to defeat the Sphinx. Instead, the monster destroys herself once the Greek hero has outwitted her. Based on the historical and cultural context of the times, there are a few possible ways an ancient Greek may have read this image. For centuries, Greeks had travelled to Egypt either as traders, mercenaries, or even as immigrants. Oedipuss travelling garb may allude to this long relationship of travel between Greece and Egypt, though this mostly speculative since Oedipus is described as a traveller in the myth. In terms of the Sphinxs crouching position directed at Oedipus and his occasional possession of a weapon, this speaks to the tension that existed between the two groups, both before and after the Persian War. Both the Sphinx and Egypt are a possible threat to the Greek people. At this point, the reading of the standard Oedipus and Sphinx motif becomes much more speculative. Knowledge of the myth would have allowed the ancient Greeks to infer how the scene between hero and monster would play out. No physical altercation occurs, but instead the Sphinx is defeated by Oedipuss knowledge and cunning. Perhaps the Greeks sensed a similar fate for Egypt, which was still under Persias power. As noted by Pollitt, the Greeks victory over Persia and its Egyptian allies became a sort of divine sanction and justification for the supremacy of Greek culture over all other cultures (Pollitt 1972, 23). Oedipus overcomes the Sphinx through knowledge, not physical force, and so the Greeks overcome their Egyptian neighbors through culture. One interesting exception that actually depicts Oedipus slaying the sphinx (See Catalogue #16) is seen on a red-figure lekythos dated to around 420-400 BC. This piece depicts an alternate version of the myth as described by Apollodorus. The scholar Lucilla Burns suggests that the Oedipus and Sphinx motif presented on this vase is a more Atticized telling of the myth. She bases this on the presence of Athena (the patron goddess of Athens) as well as the militarized Oedipus, which she argues is more reminiscent of the Athenian hero Theseus (Burn 1987, 46-48). Since this piece is produced at a later date than the more standard versions of the Oedipus and Sphinx motif, the violence in the scene may be more indicative of events taking place during the Peloponnesian Wars as opposed to the Persian Wars.While some of this reading is speculative, it is essential to recognize that all forms of myth are subject to interpretation, both by those telling or representing the myth and by those hearing or seeing the myth. The important point here is that one particular motif is being produced repeatedly, and so it must have spoken to the common knowledge of those producing and consuming the image. Therefore, it is impossible to do a completely accurate fifth-century Greek reading of the Oedipus and Sphinx motif. By using Sourvinou-Inwoods methodology however, we can infer why certain motifs became popular during certain points of time in history and how such images represented the historical and cultural context of those times. These images would not have been produced and consumed if they did not hold some kind of meaning for those who saw the images.There is one other important factor that must be considered in regards to the reading of the Oedipus and Sphinx motif on fifth-century Greek pottery. Although most of these images are being produced in workshops within Attica, many of the ceramics with these kinds of motifs (Greek versus Other), are found outside of Greece, most often in Etruscan tombs