Showing posts with label Works and Days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Works and Days. Show all posts

The last few days have been....rough. Not so much for me personally, but looking at the world and seeing dividedness, anger, and fear. It can't have escaped anyone's notice that America has been having a rough go at it, so let me post up some words of Hesiod to ponder.

"And now I will tell a fable for princes who themselves understand. Thus said the hawk to the nightingale with speckled neck, while he carried her high up among the clouds, gripped fast in his talons, and she, pierced by his crooked talons, cried pitifully. To her he spoke disdainfully: `Miserable thing, why do you cry out? One far stronger than you now holds you fast, and you must go wherever I take you, songstress as you are. And if I please I will make my meal of you, or let you go. He is a fool who tries to withstand the stronger, for he does not get the mastery and suffers pain besides his shame.' So said the swiftly flying hawk, the long- winged bird.

But you, Perses, listen to right and do not foster violence; for violence is bad for a poor man. Even the prosperous cannot easily bear its burden, but is weighed down under it when he has fallen into delusion. The better path is to go by on the other side towards justice; for Justice beats Outrage when she comes at length to the end of the race. 

But only when he has suffered does the fool learn this. For Oath keeps pace with wrong judgements. There is a noise when Justice is being dragged in the way where those who devour bribes and give sentence with crooked judgements, take her. And she, wrapped in mist, follows to the city and haunts of the people, weeping, and bringing mischief to men, even to such as have driven her forth in that they did not deal straightly with her. 

But they who give straight judgements to strangers and to the men of the land, and go not aside from what is just, their city flourishes, and the people prosper in it: Peace, the nurse of children, is abroad in their land, and all-seeing Zeus never decrees cruel war against them. Neither famine nor disaster ever haunt men who do true justice; but light-heartedly they tend the fields which are all their care. The earth bears them victual in plenty, and on the mountains the oak bears acorns upon the top and bees in the midst. Their woolly sheep are laden with fleeces; their women bear children like their parents. They flourish continually with good things, and do not travel on ships, for the grain-giving earth bears them fruit.

But for those who practise violence and cruel deeds far-seeing Zeus, the son of Kronos, ordains a punishment. Often even a whole city suffers for a bad man who sins and devises presumptuous deeds, and the son of Kronos lays great trouble upon the people, famine and plague together, so that the men perish away, and their women do not bear children, and their houses become few, through the contriving of Olympian Zeus. And again, at another time, the son of Kronos either destroys their wide army, or their walls, or else makes an end of their ships on the sea.

You princes, mark well this punishment you also; for the deathless Gods are near among men and mark all those who oppress their fellows with crooked judgements, and reck not the anger of the Gods. For upon the bounteous earth Zeus has thrice ten thousand spirits, watchers of mortal men, and these keep watch on judgements and deeds of wrong as they roam, clothed in mist, all over the earth. And there is virgin Justice, the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the Gods who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Kronos, and tells him of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence crookedly. Keep watch against this, you princes, and make straight your judgements, you who devour bribes; put crooked judgements altogether from your thoughts.

He does mischief to himself who does mischief to another, and evil planned harms the plotter most." 

[Works and Days, 202 - 266]

Where do we, as Hellenists, and I, as a person, find our ethical framework? Most of mine comes from Hesiod's Works and Days. Long before I knew Hesiod, or his writings existed, my ethics mirrored his. I want to share some of his writings with you today, because they are solid, sincere, ethical guidelines and pieces of advice that I believe will bring anyone who follows them closer to the Theoi, and themselves. That is what they did for me, anyway. You can read Works and Days here, in a translation by Evelyn-White, but the words below are taken from the Loeb translation, as done by Glenn W. Most, as that translation makes a lot more sense to me.

  • Give heed to Justice and do not foster Outrageousness, for Outrageousness is evil in a worthless mortal; and even a fine man cannot bear her easily.

  • Those who give straight judgements to foreigners and fellow-citizens and do not turn aside from Justice at all, their city blooms and the people in it flower.

  • A man contrives evil for himself when he contrives evil for someone else, and an evil plan is most evil for the planner.

  • If someone is willing to speak it out publicly, then far-seeing Zeus gives him wealth, but whoever willfully swears a false oath, telling a lie in his testimony, he himself is incurably hurt at the same time as he harms Justice.

  • Misery is there to be grabbed in abundance, easily, for smooth is the road, and she lives very nearby; but in front of Excellence the immortal Gods have set sweat, and the path to Her is long and steep, and rough at first--yet when one arrives at the top, then it becomes easy, difficult though it still is.

  • The man who thinks of everything by himself, considering what will be better, later and in the end--this man is the best of all. That man is fine too, the one who is persuaded by someone who speaks well. But whoever neither thinks by himself nor pays heed to what someone else says and lays it to his heart--that man is good for nothing.

  • Whatever sort you are by fortune, working is better, if you turn your foolish spirit away from other men's possessions towards work, taking care for the means of life.

  • Shame is not good at providing for a needy man.

  • If someone grabs great wealth with his hands by violence, or plunders it by means of his tongue, as often happens when profit deceives the mind of human beings and Shamelessness drives Shame away, then the Gods easily make him obscure.

  • Invite your friends to the feast, but let your enemy be; and above all call whoever lives near to you.

  • Do not seek profit evilly: evil profit is as bad as calamities.

  • Be friendly to your friends, and go visit those who visit you. 

  • Give to him who gives and do not give to him who does not give: for one who gives is a giver, but no one gives to a non-giver--Give is good, Grab is bad, a giver of death. For whatever a man gives willingly, even if it is much, he rejoices in the gift and takes pleasure in his spirit; but whomever snatches, relying upon shamelessness, this congeals his own heart, even if it is little.

  • It is fine to take from what you have, but it is woe for the spirit to have need of what you do not have.

  • Let the payment agreed for a man who is your friend be reliable; and smile upon your brother--but add a witness too: for both trust and distrust have destroyed men.

  • If the spirit in your breast longs for wealth, then act in this way, and work at work upon work.

 When I find myself in troubled times, I turn to the ancient writers for the comfort of their now familiar words. Yesterday I picked up Hesiod's Works and Days. Works and Days is a very soothing piece of writing for me. It describes the day to day; it looks in, not out. While the world burns, it gives reprieve. 


Works and Days (Erga kaí Hemérai, Ἔργα καὶ Ἡμέραι) is a didactic poem written by the very early ancient Hellenic poet Hesiod. It was probably written around 700 BCE or earlier and is the first example we have of Hellenic didactic poetry (poetry that emphasizes instructional and informative qualities). It embodies the experiences of his daily life and work, forming a sort of shepherd's calendar, interwoven with episodes of myth, allegory, advice and personal history. It may have been written against a background of an agrarian crisis in mainland Hellas, which inspired a wave of documented colonization in search of new land. It was written for his son Peres, as advice to him.

While I was reading last night, I recognized that turmoil in the pages and I found his words even more sound and soothing. They reminded me that I can only control my own actions and through them inspire others to take good and just action. As much as I would like to do more, I cannot shoulder that burden, nor can any individual. So, listen to Hesiod today and remember his still very timely advice.

Hesiod - Works and Days
"...And there is virgin Justice, the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the gods who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Cronos, and tells him of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence crookedly. Keep watch against this, you princes, and make straight your judgements, you who devour bribes; put crooked judgements altogether from your thoughts.

He does mischief to himself who does mischief to another, and evil planned harms the plotter most. 

The eye of Zeus, seeing all and understanding all, beholds these things too, if so he will, and fails not to mark what sort of justice is this that the city keeps within it. Now, therefore, may neither I myself be righteous among men, nor my son -- for then it is a bad thing to be righteous -- if indeed the unrighteous shall have the greater right. But I think that all-wise Zeus will not yet bring that to pass.

But you, Perses, lay up these things within you heart and listen now to right, ceasing altogether to think of violence. For the son of Cronos has ordained this law for men, that fishes and beasts and winged fowls should devour one another, for right is not in them; but to mankind he gave right which proves far the best. For whoever knows the right and is ready to speak it, far-seeing Zeus gives him prosperity; but whoever deliberately lies in his witness and forswears himself, and so hurts Justice and sins beyond repair, that man's generation is left obscure thereafter. But the generation of the man who swears truly is better thenceforward.

To you, foolish Perses, I will speak good sense. Badness can be got easily and in shoals: the road to her is smooth, and she lives very near us. But between us and Goodness the gods have placed the sweat of our brows: long and steep is the path that leads to her, and it is rough at the first; but when a man has reached the top, then is she easy to reach, though before that she was hard."
[250-292]
I am swamped, so I am going to repost an old post that new readers most likely have never read as it was published in 2012. I'm going to tackle a good old fashioned ancient Hellenic topic; the peculiar place of beggars in ancient Hellenic society. After all, of all professions there were in ancient Hellas, the profession of beggar is, perhaps, the most difficult to understand.

A beggar, or ptóchos (πτωχός), was both a welcomed and a loathed sight at the gates of ancient Hellenic cities. According to some sources, most notable Hesiod's Works and Days, being a beggar is a profession, equated with potters and minstrels. They performed a public function simply by being who they were and doing what they did. But what did they do?

In Hómēros' Odysseia, Odysseus is dressed as a beggar when he heads home, so his wife's suitors won't kill him on sight. He then runs into Antinous, one of the least noble of all of Penelope's suitors who tells him and his guide Eumaeus:

" ‘Eumaeus, the famous, why on earth did you drag this fellow here? Haven’t we vagrants enough already, beggarly nuisances to ruin our feasts? Isn’t it enough for you that they all crowd in here, swallowing your master’s stores, without you inviting this wretch too?’

Eumaeus, the swineherd, you answered him then: ‘Antinous, noble as you are your words sound ill. Who searches out foreigners himself, and invites them home, unless they are masters of some universal art: a seer, or physician, or architect, or perhaps a divine minstrel who delights men with song? Such men are welcome throughout the boundless earth, but no one would invite a burdensome beggar. You are the harshest Suitor where Odysseus’ servants are concerned, harshest of all to me: but I don’t care as long as loyal Penelope, my lady, and godlike Telemachus live here.’ "

Eumaeus seems to indicate that a beggar is not sought out and brought into a home. That, however, does not mean that being a beggar is not a profession. But what function did beggars fulfill in society? Why would he be welcomed in the house? They take food and drink, smell foul and generally don't keep their mouth shut. Yet, beggars were welcomed into a home. Most were glad to have them. This, of course, ties in heavily with Xenia; ritual hospitality. I wrote before about beggars in relation to Xenia but focussed only on the many occurrences in myth where Gods and Goddesses disguised themselves as beggars to test their hosts. Besides that, any wanderer, beggars included, are protected by Zeus Xenios.

There is a very specific ritual surrounding beggars who come to the home. The Odysseia is very clear about the role of both kurios and beggar and most likely reflects actual practice. Lets look at this ritual, step by step:
  • The beggar comes to the house, wearing the mandatory beggars' outfit (rags, staff and a beggars bag) and sets himself down against the doorpost, rubbing his shoulders against it to indicate discomfort while he waits to be acknowledged.
  • The kurios comes to to the door to offer the beggar a share of his food.
  • If a feast is held, the beggar is then encouraged to go from person to person to beg for more.
  • The beggar thanks the kurios and begs to plead to Zeus Xenios about the kindness bestowed upon him by the kurios and does so, asking for prosperity for the household and kind viewing of the kurios.
  • The beggar then visits the tables, asking for food. He receives his share but continually begs for more, until the guests are angered into striking the beggar or throwing objects at him.
  • The beggar takes this abuse and meanwhile accepts the food gifted to him. When he has made his rounds and his beggars bag is full, he returns to the doorpost and eats, blessing those who have given freely and cursing those who did not, or who abused him. 
  • Those who did not give him enough or who abused him eventually come to the beggar to offer more to him, usually some of the best meats or sweetest treats, if he will perform a task or tell a story. In most cases, this means beating the other beggars who have showed up for the feast.
  • The beggar accepts the challenge and performs it. He then receives his treats and eats them, taking his blessings from the appeased guests.
  • The beggar then leaves or finds a place to sleep on the property where he will not bother the guests, who will hear no more of him after the sharing of food is done.
The custom is an odd one; beating up a beggar who is a willing participant to the abuse and one who may not strike back. This series of exchanges can be boiled down to a single practice; purification. The beggar becomes a scapegoat to load onto the impurities of the kurios and his guests. He comes in to take not only gifts and abuse but, through them, impurity. When he leaves, the impurity leaves as well. This is also why a beggar is not invited to the home, like Antinous says, but is still a welcome sight at it. Inviting a beggar would be to invite the impurities of others into your home.

Those who have read my blog for a while know the importance of katharmos and the cleansing of miasma in ancient Hellas. The beggar's function was thus two-fold; he ridded the giver of his miasma and even went a step further by asking the Gods--and Zeus Xenios, specifically--to bless the giver. All the giver had to do to receive this blessing was put up with the smell and behavior of the beggar long enough for him to be appeased. Once the sharing of food was over, the beggar caused no more fuss. That said, it was the task of the beggar to eat and drink everything offered to him. Nothing could be saved for later or refused; it was part of his role as purifier to consume everything offered to him--and that was usually a lot.

The life of a beggar was not an easy one and many endured injury during this ritual. All dangers of the road were part of his life, but he served a useful role in society. He was a purifier but also a warning of hubris towards the Gods. Often, beggars shared their life's story, how they had ended up on the streets. Others listened and were reminded of the role of Deity in their lives, and that of fate. They gave freely to appease them and minded their step. Many gave out of sympathy for the beggar, as well. Eumaeus says it best when he allows Odysseus, disguised as a beggar, inside his humble home;

"Stranger, it would be wrong for me to turn a guest away, even one in a worse state than you, since every beggar and stranger is from Zeus, and a gift, though small, from such folk as us is welcome."
I've been thinking about and researching the myth of Pandora lately. I'm fairly certain most--if not all--of you know the myth of Pandôra. For those who may not, or not know it completely, I will retell it first:

After the Titanomachy ends, Zeus claims His throne as rightful King to the Deathless Ones. Humanity did not yet exist. While most Titans were locked away in Tartarus by Zeus, Prometheus and Epimetheus--who were brothers--had been either neutral or on the side of Zeus during the Titan War and were therefor given a task. Prometheus was given the task of creating man and Epimetheus was ordered go give good qualities to all creatures of earth. So did Prometheus and Epimetheus. Prometheus shaped man out of clay and Athena breathed life into him. Epimetheus spread swiftness, cunning, fur and wings but ran out of gifts when he came to man. Prometheus remedied the situation by allowing men to walk upright and gave them fire.

It soon became apparent that Prometheus loved man more than the Olympians. When Zeus decreed that man must give sacrifice to the Deathless Ones, Prometheus stood ready to aid humanity. He butchered an animal and divided it in to piles; the bones and fat formed one of them, the good meat wrapped in the hide of the animal, the other. Zeus vowed that he would abide by the choice He made now, and picked the tasty looking pile of bones. Zeus was angered but could not take back his vow. What he could take back, was the gift of fire, and this he did.

Mankind suffered greatly without fire and Prometheus traveled either to the sun or Olympus to reclaim fire for his beloved mankind. This, of course, angered Zeus even further and so he devised a plan. First, he imprisoned Prometheus. He ordered Hermes to tie Prometheus to a mountain and had a giant Eagle come every day to eat his liver. As an immortal, Prometheus' liver grew back over night so his torment was endless. Before Prometheus had been taken prisoner, however, he had told his brother Epimetheus never to accept a gift from Zeus, as Zeus' wrath would undoubtedly also extend to the mortal race He had created. 

And Zeus, indeed, was not done with His punishment. After imprisoning Prometheus, Zeus assembled the Theoi. He told Hēphaistos to fashion a woman out of water and clay. Hēphaistos did and brought the statue before Zeus. Zeus then asked Aphrodite to bless the woman with a beauteous face and feminine whiles. He asked Athena to dress her modestly and give her the ability to weave and craft, Demeter taught her to tend the garden. From Apollon, she received the ability to make music and sing. All Gods gave her treacherous gifts, including Hera, who made her curious, and Hermes, who made her cunning and quick of the tongue. Then, Zeus named her Pandôra (Πανδωρα), All-Giving, and breathed life into her. He then bade Hermes to deliver her to Epimetheus, along with a vase (pithos) Pandôra was never allowed to open.

Epimetheus had been warned by Prometheus never to open or accept a gift from Zeus, but he laid eyes on Pandôra's beauty and fell in love too deeply to reject her. He took her into his home amongst men and wedded her right away. And Pandôra loved Epimetheus, because he was a good man and good husband. She worked tirelessly to please him and helped him keep the home. Yet, she found herself drawn to the pithos she was told never to open. Her eyes would wander to it constantly and Hera's gift eventually prevented her from holding to her promise. 

On a day when Epimetheus was away from the home, Pandôra decided to risk a sneak peak at the contents she had fantasized about so often. She pulled the lid off of the pithos and out flew dark spirits of disease, death and the destruction of humanity. Pandôra hastened to seal the jar but managed to trap only Hope (Elpis)--by Zeus' decree or by mere accident.

Mankind was now plagued with illness, with failing crops, with all that make life hard. But they had Hope and soon, Pyrrha (Fire) was born to Epimetheus and Pandôra. Years later, when Zeus would flood the earth, Pyrrha and her husband Deukalion would survive and re-create the human race by throwing pebbles behind themselves as they walked; Deukalion would create the men and Pyrrha the women.

There are countless versions of this tale. It's featured heavily in Hesiod's Theogony and Works & Days but there seem to be older versions of the myth in which Pandôra was not made by Zeus but was an epithet of Demeter or Gaea who became a separate Deity. As such, Pandôra was a harvest Goddess, a Goddess risen from the earth to bestow gifts upon humanity. This would certainly seem closer to the meaning of her name; All-Giving.

The problem with the 'Pandôra's Box' myth as written above is in the inconsistencies. If Zeus wanted to punish mankind, why give them a beautiful woman? Why not drop the jar in front of some poor farmer and have him open it? Was there no curiosity in men at all? Why give Pandôra the ability to craft, sing and work diligently when she's there solely to punish mankind? If the pithos was a prison for the evils of the world, why was Hope locked in there as well? And if the pithos was, indeed, a prison, shouldn't we be without hope now? The same is true for a scenario in which there were actual gifts in the jar; why was Hope kept from humanity?

Scholars have tried valiantly to answer these questions but it doesn't become much clearer. There is a very old reference to pithos and Zeus in Hómēros' Illiad:

"There are two urns (pithoi) that stand on the door-sill of Zeus. They are unlike for the gifts they bestow: an urn of evils (kakoi), an urn of blessings (dôroi). If Zeus who delights in thunder mingles these and bestows them on man, he shifts, and moves now in evil, again in good fortune. But when Zeus bestows from the urn of sorrows, he makes a failure of man, and the evil hunger drives him over the shining earth, and he wanders resepected neither of gods nor mortals."

Could one of these have been given to Pandôra? And if so, which one? Was it the pithos holding the kakoi or the pithos holding the dôroi? Her name seems to indicate the latter, the myth the former. If it's the pithos holding the kakoi, why was hope in that jar? Shouldn't hope have been in the other jar? If it was the pithos holding the dôroi, why was it a good thing hope stayed behind? Don't we need hope? And if hope is a bad thing, why was it in the jar of blessings? Another possibility is that, when opening the jar, the blessings--because this theory works only if the pithos that was given to Pandora was a pithos of blessings--Pandôra caused mankind to lose the blessings Prometheus had bestowed upon them. All that was left, was hope.

Aeschylus, writer of a Hellenic tragedy dating back to C5th B.C. indicated that it was not Zeus, but Prometheus, who saved Hope from leaving the jar and, as Aeschylus explains it, our hearths:

Prometheus: Yes, I caused mortals to cease foreseeing their doom.
Chorus: Of what sort was the cure that you found for this affliction? 
Prometheus: I caused blind hopes to dwell within their breasts.
Chorus: A great benefit was this you gave to mortals.

If this was the case, the jar would have, indeed, contained blessings which were lost upon opening of the jar. Prometheus kept hope alive for humanity, allowing us to weather the evils already in the world even now we had lost most of our ability to withstand it. 

This idea is not as weird as it may sound; I spoke earlier of the Ages of Man. Every new age, we lost more gifts from the Gods because our gifts gave us hubris. Because this myth is set before the flood of Deukalion, it's set in the Bronze Age. Hesiod had this to say about the Bronze Age:

Zeus the Father made a third generation of mortal men, a brazen race, sprung from ash-trees, and it was in no way equal to the silver age, but was terrible and strong. They loved the lamentable works of Ares and deeds of violence; they ate no bread, but were hard of heart like adamant, fearful men. Great was their strength and unconquerable the arms which grew from their shoulders on their strong limbs. Their armour was of bronze, and their houses of bronze, and of bronze were their implements: there was no black iron. These were destroyed by their own hands and passed to the dank house of chill Hades, and left no name: terrible though they were, black Death seized them, and they left the bright light of the sun.

Parts of it come close to a world void of hope, full of evils and/or void of all goodness but hope. It was a bad age and the people who lived in it, destroyed themselves--perhaps due to whatever was in that pithos?--and remained forever nameless spirits. Of course, the creation myth part of this age doesn't fit the myth at all.

Perhaps, Pandôra was an invention of her time, following a shift in culture towards a patriarchal society. Perhaps, her myth got mangled when it came in contact with the story of Adam and Eve, which it resembles. It is said that the Theoi cannot impede on humanity's free will and so they created a creature with the will to do as they pleased. Quite a nice loop in that clause, hm? Whatever happened, I don't think Pandôra meant any harm. She was made to be a certain way, to reach a certain goal, and she did. 
When I find myself in troubled times, I turn to the ancient writers for the comfort of their now familiar words. Yesterday I picked up Hesiod's Works and Days. Works and Days is a very soothing piece of writing for me. It describes the day to day; it looks in, not out. While the world burns, it gives reprieve.

Works and Days (Erga kaí Hemérai, Ἔργα καὶ Ἡμέραι) is a didactic poem written by the very early ancient Hellenic poet Hesiod. It was probably written around 700 BCE or earlier and is the first example we have of Hellenic didactic poetry (poetry that emphasizes instructional and informative qualities). It embodies the experiences of his daily life and work, forming a sort of shepherd's calendar, interwoven with episodes of myth, allegory, advice and personal history. It may have been written against a background of an agrarian crisis in mainland Hellas, which inspired a wave of documented colonization in search of new land. It was written for his son Peres, as advice to him.

While I was reading last night, I recognized that turmoil in the pages and I found his words even more sound and soothing. They reminded me that I can only control my own actions and through them inspire others to take good and just action. As much as I would like to do more, I cannot shoulder that burden, nor can any individual. So, listen to Hesiod today and remember his still very timely advice.

Hesiod - Works and Days
"...And there is virgin Justice, the daughter of Zeus, who is honoured and reverenced among the gods who dwell on Olympus, and whenever anyone hurts her with lying slander, she sits beside her father, Zeus the son of Cronos, and tells him of men's wicked heart, until the people pay for the mad folly of their princes who, evilly minded, pervert judgement and give sentence crookedly. Keep watch against this, you princes, and make straight your judgements, you who devour bribes; put crooked judgements altogether from your thoughts.

He does mischief to himself who does mischief to another, and evil planned harms the plotter most. 

The eye of Zeus, seeing all and understanding all, beholds these things too, if so he will, and fails not to mark what sort of justice is this that the city keeps within it. Now, therefore, may neither I myself be righteous among men, nor my son -- for then it is a bad thing to be righteous -- if indeed the unrighteous shall have the greater right. But I think that all-wise Zeus will not yet bring that to pass.

But you, Perses, lay up these things within you heart and listen now to right, ceasing altogether to think of violence. For the son of Cronos has ordained this law for men, that fishes and beasts and winged fowls should devour one another, for right is not in them; but to mankind he gave right which proves far the best. For whoever knows the right and is ready to speak it, far-seeing Zeus gives him prosperity; but whoever deliberately lies in his witness and forswears himself, and so hurts Justice and sins beyond repair, that man's generation is left obscure thereafter. But the generation of the man who swears truly is better thenceforward.

To you, foolish Perses, I will speak good sense. Badness can be got easily and in shoals: the road to her is smooth, and she lives very near us. But between us and Goodness the gods have placed the sweat of our brows: long and steep is the path that leads to her, and it is rough at the first; but when a man has reached the top, then is she easy to reach, though before that she was hard."
[250-292]
I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with wintertime. I love the lights in and around houses that can be seen from the late afternoon onwards, but I miss the sun. I like the sight of snow but in The
Netherlands, winter mostly means rain and dreary weather. It's gloomy. By this time of year, I long for the light again--natural light. And the cold tends to keep me indoors--and I really dislike being indoors. I'm an outside person and spent many, many hours outside whenever I can. The short trips to the shop are not satisfying me.

I am not the only one who dislikes wintertime: Hesiod also disliked it greatly. He mentions the wickedness of wintertime in Works and Days. Works and Days (Erga kaí Hemérai, Ἔργα καὶ Ἡμέραι) is a didactic poem written by the very early ancient Hellenic poet Hesiod. It was probably written around 700 BCE or earlier and is the first example we have of Hellenic didactic poetry (poetry that emphasizes instructional and informative qualities). It embodies the experiences of his daily life and work, forming a sort of shepherd's calendar, interwoven with episodes of myth, allegory, advice and personal history. It may have been written against a background of an agrarian crisis in mainland Hellas, which inspired a wave of documented colonizations in search of new land. Works and Days is a very soothing piece of writing for me. It describes the day to day; it looks in, not out. This is what he says on winter:

"Avoid the month Lenaeon, wretched days, all of them fit to skin an ox, and the frosts which are cruel when Boreas blows over the earth. He blows across horse-breeding Thrace upon the wide sea and stirs it up, while earth and the forest howl. On many a high-leafed oak and thick pine he falls and brings them to the bounteous earth in mountain glens: then all the immense wood roars and the beasts shudder and put their tails between their legs, even those whose hide is covered with fur; for with his bitter blast he blows even through them although they are shaggy-breasted. He goes even through an ox's hide; it does not stop him. Also he blows through the goat's fine hair. But through the fleeces of sheep, because their wool is abundant, the keen wind Boreas pierces not at all; but it makes the old man curved as a wheel.
 
And it does not blow through the tender maiden who stays indoors with her dear mother, unlearned as yet in the works of golden Aphrodite, and who washes her soft body and anoints herself with oil and lies down in an inner room within the house, on a winter's day when the Boneless One (22) gnaws his foot in his fireless house and wretched home; for the sun shows him no pastures to make for, but goes to and fro over the land and city of dusky men, and shines more sluggishly upon the whole race of the Hellenes. Then the horned and unhorned denizens of the wood, with teeth chattering pitifully, flee through the copses and glades, and all, as they seek shelter, have this one care, to gain thick coverts or some hollow rock. Then, like the Three-legged One (24) whose back is broken and whose head looks down upon the ground, like him, I say, they wander to escape the white snow.
 
Then put on, as I bid you, a soft coat and a tunic to the feet to shield your body, -- and you should weave thick woof on thin warp. In this clothe yourself so that your hair may keep still and not bristle and stand upon end all over your body.

Lace on your feet close-fitting boots of the hide of a slaughtered ox, thickly lined with felt inside. And when the season of frost comes on, stitch together skins of firstling kids with ox-sinew, to put over your back and to keep off the rain. On your head above wear a shaped cap of felt to keep your ears from getting wet, for the dawn is chill when Boreas has once made his onslaught, and at dawn a fruitful mist is spread over the earth from starry heaven upon the fields of blessed men: it is drawn from the ever flowing rivers and is raised high above the earth by windstorm, and sometimes it turns to rain towards evening, and sometimes to wind when Thracian Boreas huddles the thick clouds.

Finish your work and return home ahead of him, and do not let the dark cloud from heaven wrap round you and make your body clammy and soak your clothes. Avoid it; for this is the hardest month, wintry, hard for sheep and hard for men. In this season let your oxen have half their usual food, but let your man have more; for the helpful nights are long. Observe all this until the year is ended and you have nights and days of equal length, and Earth, the mother of all, bears again her various fruit.
When Zeus has finished sixty wintry days after the solstice, then the star Arcturus leaves the holy stream of Ocean and first rises brilliant at dusk. After him the shrilly wailing daughter of Pandion, the swallow, appears to men when spring is just beginning." [ll. 504 - 570]
 
I look greatly forward to that spring, but will wait patiently for it. I'll enjoy the warmth of my home and the coziness of the lights. I'll wrap myself in warm blankets, in warm jackets and thick scarves. I'll enjoy the outside world when I can. And when the spring comes, I'll thank Demeter and Kore for Their return. Stay warm, everyone!
I get a lot of questions from readers, and most of the time, the answers are fairly short. When I feel the question or the reply would be valuable to others as well, I make a post with a collection of them and post them in one go. Today is one of those posts. Also: this is question collections post number sixty. Sixty! With an average of four answers per posts, that is at least 240 questions answered--say 250 because I like whole numbers. 250 answers. Quite the achievement. Here is to at least 250 more!


"Do you think it would be appropriate to replace Greek words in prayer with the closest equivalent English words? I have a lot of trouble with Greek pronunciation, and I worry that this focus on language ends up distracting me from prayer, and by extension from the Theoi."

A good while back, I wrote a post about the importance of language in ritual. Mostly that was me waxing poetically about an issue I had not yet resolved. I still haven't. I don't speak Greek, let alone ancient Greek. I do promounce the names of the Theoi in Greek as much as possible--which ususally is not quite a huge difference from the English.

Upon reading your question I contemplated how problematic this fact is to me. Upon the aforementioned contemplation, I can say that I don't rightly mind the fact that my worship is practiced in a mixture of Dutch, English and the odd word of Greek. Language is a human thing anyway; I can't imagine the Theoi are hindered in understanding my hymns and prayers because of the language I use.

Practicing in ancient Greek is probably more Traditional--and if I spoke it, I would use it. Perhaps I will learn enough ancient Greek one day to practice in it--who knows--but even in that case, the meaning of the words is more important to me than the words themselves.

I can understand how distraction by language might worry you. You know, at the end of the day, we do the best we can. If (currently) the best you can do is using the English pronounciation of the names of the Theoi, then do that. Just honour Them. Give Them Their proper due. Nothing matters above that.

~~~

"I have lately been having trouble getting myself to do rituals, and this causes me to feel very guilty - I feel sometimes that Hellenismos isn't for me. But - I want it and feel connected to it. What should I do? Thanks."

Some things I can't answer for an individual. Wether Hellenismos is the right religion for them or not is one of them, sadly. There are so many variables at play here--why are you having trouble getting yourself to do rituals, for example? Is it a matter of time? Effort? Money? Embarresment? Devotion? Are there ways to go about it that would alleviate these reasons? Doing it once a day? Doing only festival rituals?

If you have contacted me to alleviate your guilt and get a pass on rituals, well, I am not your priestess. This is not Christianity; there is no pardon for behavior that runs counter to the religion's practice. In Hellenismos, you are responsible for your own behavior and by acting, you accept the subsequent reaction. I can't tell you in the Theoi mind that you do not actively practice or do so only rarely or reluctantly. I would never presume to interpret the minds of the Theoi that way. I also cannot tell you if your issues with active practice mean Hellenismos is for you or not.

My advice to you would be to look inside yourself and try to pinpoint why, exactly, you are feeling this reluctance. I fear that that is the only way you might find an answer to the other question. Best of luck to you!

~~~

"I am looking for the "ancient writers" who used the terms Khryseoi and Agryreoi and gave the description below.

'According to some ancient writers, the spirits of the Silver Age also became daímones: the daímones agryreoi. They were described as earth-dwelling fertility spirits who proferred mankind with rich harvests. They were inferior to the Daimones Khryseoi. The former resided within the earth, while the latter occupied the air.'"

That quote is from this post of the Beginner's Guide to Hellenismos. The ancient writer is Hesiod, in his Works and Days:

"First of all the deathless gods who dwell on Olympos made a Golden (khryseoi, Ἁγνοι) Race of mortal men who lived in the time of Kronos when he was reigning in heaven. " [109 ff (trans. Evelyn-White)]

"They [the gods] who dwell on Olympos made a second generation [of men after the Golden Race] which was of Silver (Argyreoi, Αργυρεοι) and less noble by far. It was like the golden race neither in body nor in spirit." [121 ff (trans. Evelyn-White)]

~~~

"When emptying the kathiskos each month, what do you do with the contents? I know better than to throw them away because they are offerings and are marked as sacred, but do you bury it in a flowerbed or...?"

I used to add the contents of my kathiskos to our compost pile, now I have moved and we have not yet installed a compost heap, they get buried (deep) in the yard to basically fulfil the same purpose. It seems only right to do something with it that will provide life.
When I find myself in troubled times, I turn to the ancient writers for the comfort of their now familiar words. Yesterday I picked up Hesiod's Works and Days. Works and Days is a very soothing piece of writing for me. It describes the day to day; it looks in, not out. While the wold burns, it gives reprieve.

Works and Days (Erga kaí Hemérai, Ἔργα καὶ Ἡμέραι), by the way, is a didactic poem written by the very early ancient Hellenic poet Hesiod. It was probably written around 700 BCE or earlier and is the first example we have of Hellenic didactic poetry (poetry that emphasizes instructional and informative qualities). It embodies the experiences of his daily life and work, forming a sort of shepherd's calendar, interwoven with episodes of myth, allegory, advice and personal history. It may have been written against a background of an agrarian crisis in mainland Hellas, which inspired a wave of documented colonizations in search of new land.

While I was reading last night, I recognized that turmoil in the pages and I found his words even more sound and soothing. As part of Works and Days, Hesiod speaks of the creation of mankind by the Gods. Hesiod distinguishes five, separate, Ages where the Gods made a form of mankind; the Golden Age, the Silver Age, the Bronze Age, the Heroic Age, and the Iron Age.

Hesiod placed himself in the Iron Age, and regretfully so. The Iron Age is a moral continuation of the Bronze Age, not the Heroic Age; those of the Heroic Age were far nobler. Men of the Iron Age bicker amongst themselves, there is no respect for parents, for guests, or the Theoi. Bitter war rules, and those who have the strength to cease power, do so without hesitation and without caring about the lives of those they oppress. It is a bleak Age, because those of the Iron Age are even more wicked than those of the Bronze age: they will not end their own lives. Either the Theoi will end this Age, or They will retreat from it, leaving the race to fend for themselves.

Roman Christian priest, Saint Jerome (c. 347 – 420), contemplated Hesiod's Ages and figured it still ongoing. Many have contemplated since if that is correct. I leave you with Hesiod's words now and I will ask of you: is this the Iron Age?

"And again far-seeing Zeus made yet another generation, the fifth, of men who are upon the bounteous earth. Thereafter, would that I were not among the men of the fifth generation, but either had died before or been born afterwards. For now truly is a race of iron, and men never rest from labour and sorrow by day, and from perishing by night; and the gods shall lay sore trouble upon them.

But, notwithstanding, even these shall have some good mingled with their evils. And Zeus will destroy this race of mortal men also when they come to have grey hair on the temples at their birth.

The father will not agree with his children, nor the children with their father, nor guest with his host, nor comrade with comrade; nor will brother be dear to brother as aforetime. Men will dishonour their parents as they grow quickly old, and will carp at them, chiding them with bitter words, hard-hearted they, not knowing the fear of the gods. They will not repay their aged parents the cost their nurture, for might shall be their right: and one man will sack another's city.

There will be no favour for the man who keeps his oath or for the just or for the good; but rather men will praise the evil-doer and his violent dealing. Strength will be right and reverence will cease to be; and the wicked will hurt the worthy man, speaking false words against him, and will swear an oath upon them. Envy, foul-mouthed, delighting in evil, with scowling face, will go along with wretched men one and all.

And then Aidos and Nemesis, with their sweet forms wrapped in white robes, will go from the wide-pathed earth and forsake mankind to join the company of the deathless gods: and bitter sorrows will be left for mortal men, and there will be no help against evil."

I pose another option: that Hesiod's fifth Age has come to pass-: the Theoi had forsaken mankind for a long time, as mankind turned to other Gods--and we are now--as the worship of the Theoi comes back slowly--in a transitional period towards a new Age, an Age of remembrance of the old Hellenic ways and their Gods. A better Age than the Iron Age... or worse, perhaps, depending on what we do with it. As always, I choose to live in hope, not fear.
It's the final day of the Anthesteria, and it has been a wild ride so far. Although I did the rites alone, I did time them with a very dear friend in the US so we performed our rites together. It was very inspiring, and gave me a sense of community that was wonderful to feel. I created a wreath on the first day, and took it out yesterday afternoon with copious amounts of wine offered to Dionysos. I'm not a drinker. In fact, I only drink alcohol when I perform rites to the Theoi, so the amount of alcohol I have consumed the last few days is really quite extraordinary. Still, it would probably measure out to two wine glasses total. It's enough to give me a buzz, and the carpet some beautiful wine stains. Such is the nature of a rite to Dionysos.

Today--or, actually, last night--the last day of the Anthesteria started. On this day, called Khytroi (χύτροι 'pots'), everyone joined in a procession to the temple of Dionysos. It was a somber day consisting of the preparation of a mixture of a panspermia, grains and beans boiled together, along with honey which was offered to Hermes Khthonios on behalf of the spirits of the dead, especially those who died in Deukalion’s flood. The slaves, as well as the dead, were then told to go home, as 'the Anthesteria had ended'.

A special part of the appeasement that took place during Khytroi was the appeasement of the Keres, most notably in driving them off. The Keres are the female daímōns of violent or cruel death, including death in battle, by accident, murder or ravaging disease. They hound the battlefield, in search for the newly dead. They might have help those not favoured by a certain Theos or Theia to find a gruesome death at the hands of an enemy. From Hómēros', Iliad:

"Aphrodite forever stands by her man [Paris] and drives the Keres away from him. Even now she has rescued him when he thought he would perish." -- Zeus to Hera.

The Keres might be the evils released from the jar Pandôra opened in her curiosity. From Hesiod's Works and Days:

"For ere this the tribes of men lived on earth remote and free from ills [kakoi] and hard toil [ponoi] and heavy sickness [nosoi] which bring the Keres [Fates] upon men; for in misery men grow old quickly."

No matter where they came from, they might very well have visited upon the ancient Hellenes quite often during the winter time. With sickness, possible food shortages, cold spells in certain areas, and other disasters that can have a profound influence on life already strained by winter time, the threat of the Keres would have been very real to them. With the Anthesteria, the house and people were cleansed and the dead, along with the Keres, were appeased and driven off. The ancient Hellenes prepared for spring, by casting out the baggage of winter. Much like we clean out the old at the Hene kai Nea, so we can start fresh on Noumenia.

I'll be making a (slightly improvised) panspermia today, and will be putting out a plate at the same crossroads I would usually set out Hekate's dinner at the Hene kai Nea. I will yell 'out you Keres, daímōns, and spirits, the Anthesteria are over!' and come home to uncover my shrines. I hope you have had a wonderful Anthesteria, I most certainly have. Until tomorrow, when we are cleansed and ready for spring.
A few days ago, I talked about where we, as Hellenists, and I, as a person, find our ethical framework. Most of mine comes from Hesiod's Works and Days. Long before I knew Hesiod, or his writings existed, my ethics mirrored his. I want to share some of his writings with you today, because they are solid, sincere, ethical guidelines and pieces of advice that I believe will bring anyone who follows them closer to the Theoi, and themselves. That is what they did for me, anyway. You can read Works and Days here, in a translation by Evelyn-White, but the words below are taken from the Loeb translation, as done by Glenn W. Most, as that translation makes a lot more sense to me.
  • Give heed to Justice and do not foster Outrageousness, for Outrageousness is evil in a worthless mortal; and even a fine man cannot bear her easily.
  • Those who give straight judgements to foreigners and fellow-citizens and do not turn aside from Justice at all, their city blooms and the people in it flower.
  • A man contrives evil for himself when he contrives evil for someone else, and an evil plan is most evil for the planner.
  • If someone is willing to speak it out publicly, then far-seeing Zeus gives him wealth, but whoever willfully swears a false oath, telling a lie in his testimony, he himself is incurably hurt at the same time as he harms Justice.

  • Misery is there to be grabbed in abundance, easily, for smooth is the road, and she lives very nearby; but in front of Excellence the immortal Gods have set sweat, and the path to Her is long and steep, and rough at first--yet when one arrives at the top, then it becomes easy, difficult though it still is.
  • The man who thinks of everything by himself, considering what will be better, later and in the end--this man is the best of all. That man is fine too, the one who is persuaded by someone who speaks well. But whoever neither thinks by himself nor pays heed to what someone else says and lays it to his heart--that man is good for nothing.
  • Whatever sort you are by fortune, working is better, if you turn your foolish spirit away from other men's possessions towards work, taking care for the means of life.
  • Shame is not good at providing for a needy man.
  • If someone grabs great wealth with his hands by violence, or plunders it by means of his tongue, as often happens when profit deceives the mind of human beings and Shamelessness drives Shame away, then the Gods easily make him obscure.
  • Invite your friends to the feast, but let your enemy be; and above all call whoever lives near to you.
  • Do not seek profit evilly: evil profit is as bad as calamities.
  • Be friendly to your friends, and go visit those who visit you. 
  • Give to him who gives and do not give to him who does not give: for one who gives is a giver, but no one gives to a non-giver--Give is good, Grab is bad, a giver of death. For whatever a man gives willingly, even if it is much, he rejoices in the gift and takes pleasure in his spirit; but whomever snatches, relying upon shamelessness, this congeals his own heart, even if it is little.
  • It is fine to take from what you have, but it is woe for the spirit to have need of what you do not have.
  • Let the payment agreed for a man who is your friend be reliable; and smile upon your brother--but add a witness too: for both trust and distrust have destroyed men.
  • If the spirit in your breast longs for wealth, then act in this way, and work at work upon work.

"Avoid fifth days: they are unkindly and terrible. On a fifth day, they say, the Erinyes assisted at the birth of Horkos whom Eris bare to trouble the forsworn." -- Hesiod, Works and Days (802-804)

Yesterday was one of those days; you know the type, when you know the second you get out of bed that you should have stayed in it for the rest of the day. I'm probably one of the most optimistic, gentile, people you will ever meet, but I went through the entire day with my claws out. I don't like myself when I'm that way, but then again, Hesiod did warned us about the fifth days.

I wrote about the auspicious days of Hesiod before; the special days in a month where things should or should not be done. The fifth, fifteenth, and twenty-fifth day after the new moon are unkindly days, days where staying in bed is probably advisable. Strife (Eris, Ἔρις) bore the daímōn Oath (Horkos, Ὁρκος) on a fifth day, and it's easy to get caught up in angry words and false promises on these day.

After my transition into Hellenismos, I started noticing that the fifth days of the month were--indeed--never my friend. Some where merely neutral, but most were days I would have loved to take back and do over (with my head under a pillow). Do the fifth days bother you as much as they do me? I'm just happy the day is over. Artemis--whom we honor on the sixth, sixteenth and twenty-sixth day--always graciously evens out the crazy of the fifth. Offering Her libations of sweet, red, wine is something I do gladly--thankfully--every month.
I have mentioned before I am a great fan of Hesiod. The 'Theogony' and 'Works and Days' are absolutely fundamental in my practice and Hellenismos at large. The Myth of the five Ages, as laid out in 'Works and Days', speaks to my imagination. I have spoken about the Ages before, but never in great detail. Today, I will remedy that situation, I'll try to place the Ages in historic context and discuss Hómēros' contradictory viewpoint.

The Ages are part of 'Works and Days' (Erga kai Hēmerai, Ἔργα καὶ Ἡμέραι), a didactic poem written around 700 BC. It is a farmer's almanac and giver of moralizing advice on life. Most famous are the story of Prometheus and Pandôra, and the Myth of Five Ages. Hesiod distinguishes five, separate, Ages where the Gods made a form of mankind; the Golden Age, the Silver Age, the Bronze Age, the Heroic Age, and the Iron Age.

Golden Age: "First of all the deathless gods who dwell on Olympus made a golden race of mortal men who lived in the time of Kronos when he was reigning in heaven. And they lived like gods without sorrow of heart, remote and free from toil and grief: miserable age rested not on them; but with legs and arms never failing they made merry with feasting beyond the reach of all evils. When they died, it was as though they were overcome with sleep, and they had all good things; for the fruitful earth unforced bare them fruit abundantly and without stint. They dwelt in ease and peace upon their lands with many good things, rich in flocks and loved by the blessed gods." -- Hesiod

The Golden Age was the only Age over which Kronos ruled. It was mankind's greatest Age; an Age in which they had it all. They remained young until the very end. They were never sick. The earth gave them everything they needed. None needed to work. They lived like Gods or kings. When Zeus overtook his father in the Titanomachy, this Age ended, and those who lived in it, died out. They became daímōns, who still watch over mankind. Roman Christian priest, Saint Jerome (c. 347 – 420), contemplated Hesiod's Ages, and decided the Golden Age was from 1710 to 1674 BC.

Silver Age: "But after earth had covered this generation -- they are called pure spirits dwelling on the earth, and are kindly, delivering from harm, and guardians of mortal men; for they roam everywhere over the earth, clothed in mist and keep watch on judgements and cruel deeds, givers of wealth; for this royal right also they received; -- then they who dwell on Olympus made a second generation which was of silver and less noble by far. It was like the golden race neither in body nor in spirit. A child was brought up at his good mother's side an hundred years, an utter simpleton, playing childishly in his own home. But when they were full grown and were come to the full measure of their prime, they lived only a little time in sorrow because of their foolishness, for they could not keep from sinning and from wronging one another, nor would they serve the immortals, nor sacrifice on the holy altars of the blessed ones as it is right for men to do wherever they dwell. Then Zeus the son of Kronos was angry and put them away, because they would not give honour to the blessed gods who live on Olympus." -- Hesiod

From this point on--with one exception--mankind's demise lay in its hubris. Those who lived the Silver Age refused to honor the Theoi. They remained childlike for a hundred years, and then lived short lives because they were reckless; they squandered the gifts of the Theoi. Zeus' wrath buried this incarnation in the Earth, but because they were blessed by the Theoi, they were still given an honorary place in the Underworld, at the Isle of the Blessed. Saint Jerome placed the Silver Age from 1674 to 1628 BC.

Bronze Age: "But when earth had covered this generation also -- they are called blessed spirits of the underworld by men, and, though they are of second order, yet honour attends them also -- Zeus the Father made a third generation of mortal men, a brazen race, sprung from ash-trees; and it was in no way equal to the silver age, but was terrible and strong. They loved the lamentable works of Ares and deeds of violence; they ate no bread, but were hard of heart like adamant, fearful men. Great was their strength and unconquerable the arms which grew from their shoulders on their strong limbs. Their armour was of bronze, and their houses of bronze, and of bronze were their implements: there was no black iron. These were destroyed by their own hands and passed to the dank house of chill Hades, and left no name: terrible though they were, black Death seized them, and they left the bright light of the sun." -- Hesiod

Yet again, the next Age was less honorable than the one before. The Bronze Age race was cruel and blood thirsty. They murdered each other before they could reach their prime. They valued only murder, and their own possessions. They killed each other until there were none left. Hades claimed their souls, but they left no  legacy, they fulfill no duty upon earth. In their dishonor, their names and deed are forgotten. According to Saint Jerome, the Bronze Age ran from 1628 to 1472 BC.

Heroic Age: "But when earth had covered this generation also, Zeus the son of Kronos made yet another, the fourth, upon the fruitful earth, which was nobler and more righteous, a god-like race of hero-men who are called demi-gods, the race before our own, throughout the boundless earth. Grim war and dread battle destroyed a part of them, some in the land of Kadmos at seven-gated Thebe when they fought for the flocks of Oedipus, and some, when it had brought them in ships over the great sea gulf to Troy for rich-haired Helen's sake: there death's end enshrouded a part of them. But to the others father Zeus the son of Kronos gave a living and an abode apart from men, and made them dwell at the ends of earth. And they live untouched by sorrow in the islands of the blessed along the shore of deep swirling Ocean, happy heroes for whom the grain-giving earth bears honey-sweet fruit flourishing thrice a year, far from the deathless gods, and Kronos rules over them; for the father of men and gods released him from his bonds. And these last equally have honour and glory." -- Hesiod

Hesiod breaks his recounting of the ethics of mankind to insert the fourth Age; the Age of heroes and the main body of Hellenic myth. This is the age of Odysseus and Troy. Because many mythological founders of cities, temples, and other great sites and ideas lived in this Age, it was necessary to break the ethical structure of Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Iron, to include this Age here--Hesiod lived in the Iron Age, and many who claimed origins in mythological heroes, lived in his Age as well. It was, therefor, prudent to set this Age apart from the others. The race of the Heroic Age was far nobler and far more respectful of the Theoi than the race of the Bronze--sometimes referred to as 'Brazen'--Age. The heroes of the Heroic Age rest easy, too, on the Isle of the Blessed, ruled over by Kronos, and eating the bounty of the Earth (much like those of the Golden Age, in fact. According to Saint Jerome, this Age ran from 1460 to 1103 BC.

Iron Age: "And again far-seeing Zeus made yet another generation, the fifth, of men who are upon the bounteous earth. Thereafter, would that I were not among the men of the fifth generation, but either had died before or been born afterwards. For now truly is a race of iron, and men never rest from labour and sorrow by day, and from perishing by night; and the gods shall lay sore trouble upon them. But, notwithstanding, even these shall have some good mingled with their evils. And Zeus will destroy this race of mortal men also when they come to have grey hair on the temples at their birth. The father will not agree with his children, nor the children with their father, nor guest with his host, nor comrade with comrade; nor will brother be dear to brother as aforetime. Men will dishonour their parents as they grow quickly old, and will carp at them, chiding them with bitter words, hard-hearted they, not knowing the fear of the gods. They will not repay their aged parents the cost their nurture, for might shall be their right: and one man will sack another's city. There will be no favour for the man who keeps his oath or for the just or for the good; but rather men will praise the evil-doer and his violent dealing. Strength will be right and reverence will cease to be; and the wicked will hurt the worthy man, speaking false words against him, and will swear an oath upon them. Envy, foul-mouthed, delighting in evil, with scowling face, will go along with wretched men one and all. And then Aidos and Nemesis, with their sweet forms wrapped in white robes, will go from the wide-pathed earth and forsake mankind to join the company of the deathless gods: and bitter sorrows will be left for mortal men, and there will be no help against evil." -- Hesiod

Hesiod placed himself in the Iron Age, and regretfully so. The Iron Age is a moral continuation of the Bronze Age, not the Heroic Age; those of the Heroic Age were far nobler. Men of the Iron Age bicker amongst themselves, there is no respect for parents, for guests, or the Theoi. Bitter war rules, and those who have the strength to cease power, do so without hesitation and without caring about the lives of those they oppress. It is a bleak Age, because those of the Iron Age are even more wicked than those of the Bronze age: they will not end their own lives. Either the Theoi will end this Age, or They will retreat from it, leaving the race to fend for themselves. Saint Jerome found this Age to match his forth century AD world, and figured it still ongoing.

I pose a question: are we a part of the Iron Age? There are still many wars, and much strife amongst mortals. Yet, it could also be that Hesiod's fifth Age has come to pass--the Theoi had forsaken mankind for a long time, as mankind turned to other Gods--and we are now--as the worship of the Theoi comes back slowly--in a transitional period towards a new Age, an Age of remembrance of the old Hellenic ways and their Gods. A better Age than the Iron Age... or worse, perhaps, depending on what we do with it.

There is one more thing I must address: daímōns. Hesiod's Ages speak of only one race who became daímōns; those of the Golden Age, yet those of the Silver and Heroic Age also received many honors after their passing, and they were held in high regard. In fact, Hesiod encourages the creation of shrines for the Heroes, so they do not have to wander aimlessly. Hesiod makes clear distinction between the Theoi and daímōns: the Theoi are Gods, daímōns are members of the Gold Age who gained immortality. This differentiation is much less pronounced in the writings of Hómēros, where God and daímōn is used virtually interchangeably.

This difference led to a misinterpretation of the nature of the race of the Silver Age: they became dangerous daímōns in the eyes of later writers (like Plato), and eventually the demons of Christianity. Yet, neither Hómēros or Hesiod ever intended them to be so: all daímōns were pure and Immortal; they acted as a policing force for humanity. Daímōns fulfill an important role in mythology and life: all aspects of life can be overseen by Deathless beings, without taking away from--or needlessly adding to--the portfolio of the Theoi.

This is the myth of the five Ages, as written down by Hesiod. It was interpreted and re-interpreted many times, and we may never truly know what Hesiod intended when he wrote his masterpiece. His work leaves many questions, one posed in this post. What is your take on the Ages? In what Age do we live? And what can we do to break the downward spiral of Hesiod's expectations so we come into a better Age than the Iron Age when it passes? Also, how will we name it?