The model currently prevalent in my research presents marriage as an initiation, a rite of passage. The key aspect of the ceremony tends to be the transitional stage of this: the physical procession of the bride between households. In the Second Sophistic period, this ‘initiatory’ model is even more foregrounded. Plutarch presents love, and especially marriage, as mystic initiation, playing with the Greek word telos, which literally means ‘end’, but can mean marriage (especially for a woman), death, and induction into mystery cults. Love allows the telos, or fulfilment, of the soul – the lover grows wings, progresses upwards to the Plain of Truth, the home of the form of Beauty (a Platonic idea), and there celebrates the mysteries of the god. Marriage is almost eschatological – if this were expressed in Christian parlance it might be possible to say salvatory, and indeed, the mystic union might be connected with the idea of marriage as symbolic of the union between Christ and his church, especially in some of the writings of St Jerome, which explicitly refer to Christ as Eustochium’s bridegroom.
In Menander Rhetor, we see again a discourse of telos, but this is far more secular. Initiation functions in a very traditional ‘rite of passage’ sense: the young couple are envisioned as being initiated into their adult roles under the auspices of the hymenaios/epithalamios logos. What is interesting is that, regardless of reality, both are presented as young and marrying for the first time. Traditionally, Greek brides married in their teens, but bridegrooms were older (15:30 being the ratio recommended by Hesiod). So it may be that by the C3rd AD, social reality had changed – or that the epithalamium, as Ewan Bowie pointed out to me at a conference in Oxford, traditionally privileges the young.
However, this youth is in keeping with the Greek novel, where the protagonists are of an age, and undergo many trials and tribulations in order to find mutual fulfilment in marriage (or are reunited, having been married already) and live happily ever after. And given that the novel celebrates ‘ideal love’ between the couple, I initially thought that perhaps Plutarch’s eschatological model might also tie in. In addition, the ‘transitory’ aspect of initiation would be suitable to the ‘travel’ theme of the novel – the couple are separated, travel the world in search of one another and their home, experience a climactic reunion, and are married (this is not the case in Longus’ Daphnis and Chloe, but that might be an interesting development/manipulation. What I originally thought was that a framework of travel (transitory initiation), divinely-sanctioned marriage/reunion (eschatological initiation), and living happy ever after in their home cities (initiation into adulthood) would be sensible. This may still be the case, but sadly has nothing to do with the wedding song, so I need to start again.
One would expect the hymenaios to accompany the final wedding, fulfilling its own role as part of the transition ritual. This is only the case in Longus, and the positioning of the song in the text of the others is what complicates this analysis. Below is an overview, in chronological order, of the uses of the song in the novel:
Chariton: Callirhoe (C1st AD)
1.1.13.2: Venue: Syracuse
Bride: Callirhoe (heroine)
Groom: Chaereas (hero)
Their fathers, mortal enemies, are persuaded by the Syracusans to consent when the citizens see how lovesick the pair are. The young men attend Chaereas, the women Callirhoe. The wedding song is sung through the city: hymenaios êideto kata pasan tên polin, accompanied by garlands and wedding torches, wine and perfume. C has no idea to whom she is being married, and faints. When she appears, it is like an epiphany of Artemis.
2.1.2.6: Venue: Miletus
Bride: wife of Dionysius
Groom: Dionysius (tyrant of Miletus)
The widowed Dionysius has heard of the beauty of Callirhoe, now a slave on his estate. He dreams of his first wedding, when he brought his bride home by ship. His servant Leonas sings the wedding song: hymenaion aidontos. The narrator states that D is about to get the very thing he dreamed of (he will eventually marry C, though Chaereas is still alive, and lose her again to her first husband)…
Achilles Tatius: Leucippe and Clitophon (C2nd AD)
1.13.5.3: Venue: Tyre
Bride: bride of Charicles (ugly old woman)
Groom: Charicles (boyfriend of Clitophon’s pederast cousin, Clinias)
Clitophon tells his cousin of his love for Leucippe; meanwhile, Charicles falls from his horse at Clinias’ estate, and is brought in mangled. His father laments the loss of both his soul and body, using in particular the common motif of the loss of his wedding day – the boy is addressed as numphie (bridegroom) but atelês (without telos, unfulfilled). The tomb (taphos) is his wedding chamber (thalamos), the thrênos (funeral lament) is sung instead of the hymenaios, his wedding torches have become a funeral pyre.
3.10.5.4: Venue: between Pelusium and Alexandria
Bride: prospectively Leucippe (heroine)
Groom: prospectively Clitophon (hero)
To escape marriage to his half-sister (and conceal the truth of their almost-intercourse), Clitophon and Leucippe elope, but are shipwrecked and captured by robbers. C begins to chant his own funeral dirge, lamenting that these are fine ‘trappings’ for Leucippe’s ‘wedding’: her thalamos is a prison, her wedding bed is the ground (gê), her adornments ropes, and instead of the hymenaios, the funeral lament is sung: thrênon aidei.
5.11.2.3: Venue: Alexandria
Bride: should-have-been-Leucippe
Groom: should-have-been-Clitophon
Clitophon believes Leucippe to be dead, when Clinias finds him with the news that their fathers had approved their marriage. C laments the cruelty of the timing, that after death comes marriage, and after the lament, the wedding song: meta thanaton gamoi, meta thrênon hymenaioi. He asks what sort of bride fate has in store for him (as far as he knows, L is a headless corpse), and what should he
do now? Thankfully, the rich widow Melite is much enamoured of him…
5.16.5.4: Venue: On a boat to Ephesus
Bride: Melite
Groom: Clitophon
Melite contracts Clitophon as her lover and attempts to persuade him into bed: Poseidon and the Nereids will accompany them; the wind in the rigging sounds like the flute playing the wedding song (emoi men hymenaion aidein dokei ta tôn anemôn aulêmata), the sail is big-bellied – good omen. He refuses.
Xenophon of Ephesus: Ephesian Tale (C2nd AD)
1.8.1.5: Venue: Ephesus
Bride: Anthia (heroine)
Groom: Habrocomes (hero)
The over-proud Habrocomes is punished by Eros and falls in love with Anthia at a festival of Artemis. When they fall ill of it, their fathers seek an oracle and decide to marry the pair. Their wedding is accompanied by all-night celebrations and sacrifices to the god. At night, Anthia is brought to the thalamos with torches, and the guests sing the wedding song and shout good wishes: ton hymenaion aidontes, epeuphêmontes, before ensconcing the couple on the couch. They are emotional, but finally get on with it – holding ‘contests’ all night to show who loves the other more.
3.5.3.4: Venue: Tarsus
Bride: Anthia
Groom: Perilaus (eirenarch of Cilicia)
Anthia has been captured by bandits, who were wiped out by Perilaus’ soldiers. He falls in love with her and plans their wedding. She is dressed in her bridal gown, but laments, seeing Habrocomes before her eyes. She thinks of her love, vows of chastity to him, her country, parents, plight, and wedding. She compares her fate to H – he may be captured/dead, but someone will sing her wedding song (kai ton hymenaion aisei tis ep’ emoi) and she will go to Perilaus’ bed. So she plans to die and become H’s bride after death.
3.6.1.5, 2.4: Venue: Tarsus
Bride: Anthia
Groom: Perilaus
That night, the thalamos is made ready and Anthia’s escort arrives. She is brought out in tears and against her will, but has procured a poison from an Ephesian doctor, and conceals it in her hand. The household raise the wedding song (hoi oikeioi aneuphêmêsan ton hymenaion) but she laments and compares the occasion to her wedding to Habrocomes. Then the fire of love was her escort, and the song was sung for a happy marriage: hymenaios êideto epi gamois eudaimosi. She makes up her mind to drink the poison as she enters the thalamos, calls for a cup, drinks the drug, and collapses (but it is only a sleeping potion and she awakens in her tomb, to be captured again by pirates).
Longus: Daphnis and Chloe (C2nd-3rd AD?)
4.32.1.8 (34): Venue: Mytilene
Bride: Chloe (heroine)
Groom: Daphnis (hero)
At the end of the novel, exposed-as-a-babe Daphnis is revealed as the son of local potentate Dionysophanes, and his love Chloe is revealed as having been similarly exposed. Dionysophanes dreams of Eros, who commands him to invite everyone to a feast and lay out Chloe’s tokens of identity so that her own father can find her, and then sing the wedding song: adein ton hymenaion. He gives the order for the feast and his servants bring out the trinkets.
4.40.2.3: Venue: estate outside Mytilene
Bride: Chloe
Groom: Daphnis
At night, the couple are led to the thalamos, to the sound of pan-pipes, flutes, and with wedding torches. At the door, the guests sing a harsh tune: sklêrai kai apênei têi phônei, NOT the usual wedding song: ouch hymenaios aidontes, but as if they were labouring in the fields. Inside, Daphnis and Chloe learn that their previous experimentation had been but child’s play.
Heliodorus: Ethiopian Tale (C4th AD)
2.29.4.3: Venue: Delphi
Bride: daughter of Charicles (heroine Chariclea’s foster-father)
Groom: suitor of daughter
Charicles, a priest at Delphi, had a daughter whom he bestowed upon a suitor. On the night of her marriage, a thunderbolt or arson caused her death. Her wedding song became lamentation and the nuptial chamber her tomb: ton hymenaion aidomenon eti diedexeto thrênos kai apo tôn pastadôn epi to mnêma parepempeto; likewise, her wedding torches became her funeral pyre, and her mother died from grief.
6.8.2.6, 3.2: Venue: Bessa, Egypt
Bride: daughter of Nausicles (who shelters Chariclea)
Groom: Cnemon (unsavoury character redeemed as friend of hero & heroine)
Characters are about to go separate ways, so Nausicles gives daughter to Cnemon, placing her hand in his. He calls his relatives to sing the wedding song: ton hymenaion aidesthai pros tôn oikeiôn egkeleusamenos, and leads the first dance. The guests dance and sing an impromptu song before the inner chambers. Wedding torches light the house all night.
Chariclea, the heroine, withdraws alone, mourning her separation from her fiancé Theagenes. She rages in a Bacchic frenzy, tearing her hair and rending her clothes. She dances a measure appropriate to HER situation and sings dirges and lamentation in the darkness of a smashed lamp – what will be her bridal chamber/wedding song (ton hymenaion aprosklêton epi tois thalamois ekômazon…); she has no husband/is widowed; Cnemon is marrying, not Theagenes; Nausiclea is wed, leaving Chariclea alone. She prays for T & their mutual chastity.
These are the main 5 novels; there are fragments of others which I have yet to deal with. So where does this all leave us? Only 3 songs are performed at the weddings of the protagonists, 2 at the BEGINNINGS of the story – hardly a teleological model. Achilles Tatius uses a typical ‘marriage to death’ juxtaposition (one of inverted telos), common in tragedy and epigrams for those who die young. Xenophon contrasts this – quite explicitly in 3.6 – with a happy situation of marriage, and Heliodorus develops it (as well as using ‘marriage to death’ outright for Charicles’ daughter) in a quite sophisticated way in Chariclea’s contrast of her friend’s marriage with her lack of it. Some kind of dialogue is being constructed with our initiatory paradigm, but it seems a bit all-over-the-show.
A chat today with a colleague who is teaching the ancient novel may have opened up this problem a bit. He thinks that the novelists are playing with the idea of teleology. We expect a romance to end with marriage – there’s a reason for that; it goes back at least to Greek New Comedy, and even some Old Comedies do it (although it’s far less ‘romantic’) – and guess what, a lot of these are accompanied by hymenaioi. The novel frustrates the readers’ expectations, in a way: we want linearity, telos at the end, but it gives us narrative complexity, and different telê in different places. It doesn’t preclude the idea of transition or initiation, but it does play with the concept of what telos actually means. Plutarch’s Coniugalia Praecepta (Advice to the Bride and Groom) introduce the idea that marriage isn’t the end, but the BEGINNING, a development away from the traditional model of the wedding song. The fact that the word hymenaios can be used for ‘wedding’ or ‘marriage’, however, should keep this in mind. Yes, it’s a ritual of initiation, but it’s also so much MORE than that.
So how does this relate to other nuptial literature of this period, like Plutarch and Menander Rhetor? I think it’s taking their concept of telos (eschatology in the afterlife/marriage means you’re a big boy now) and turning it on its head. The hymenaios isn’t the be-all and end-all – in all but 1 novel, it takes place at the beginning or in the middle of a text, where there is much more to come. Like the trials and tribulations undergone by the protagonists, marriage itself is a process; the gods may favour you, but perhaps, call no man blessed till he’s dead? The hero and heroine might live happy ever after at the end, but even in Longus, the song that’s sung is called ‘not-a-hymenaios’ – perhaps the term in this genre alerts us to the idea of ‘process’. And we’re back at transition again.
This is quite a sophisticated development of contemporary philosophical and social concepts, and perhaps out of keeping with the ‘simplistic’ label often given to the novels. Yes, they are literary and assume an elite, erudite readership, but how far can that explain the development of this concept in the genre. Final thoughts: I think the relationship between the novel and philosophy and the novel and rhetoric is something I need to look at in more detail before this question can be fully answered.
