Honor and Respect in Homer's Iliad and Aristophanes' Lysistrata

Introduction: War, Endings, and a Common Bond

It should not be possible to speak of the ends of things without speaking of their beginnings. Homer's Iliad and Aristophanes' Lysistrata are two war-themed works whose tones are dissimilar but whose endings are revealing of a common bond — despite the centuries and structures that separate them. The ending of Homer's Iliad depicts the death of Hector, the abuse of his corpse by Achilles, the begging of mercy by Priam, and the burial of Hector's bones following the cremation of his body on the funeral pyre. The ending of Lysistrata is a jubilant celebration of peace in song as Athenians and Spartans end their war thanks in large part to the influence of their women.

The common bond is this: both works end with attention focused not on those who begin the work — Lysistrata of Athens, or Achilles of the Argives — but rather on the enemy: the Spartans in song, and Hector of the Trojans. The sense is that both works are neither pro-war nor anti-war in the extreme, but may be read rather as artistic attempts to understand the enemy through identification and honor. They are, in other words, works of respect. This paper will show how the ends of both The Iliad and Lysistrata reflect a kind of respect that any honorable man — or woman — of ancient Greece might have done well to cultivate for the enemy, and which we today may likewise do well to cultivate as our nations embark on a foreign policy of total war.

Honor as the Overarching Theme of the Iliad

"Anger be now your song" is Robert Fitzgerald's opening translation of Homer's epic — and it refers to Achilles' anger at Agamemnon, the leader of the Greeks, who has insulted Achilles by stealing his woman and spoil of war. Although Achilles' anger is not the primary focus of the narrative, it introduces from the very beginning the theme of honor — the same theme that will close out the narrative, though a transition will be made from Grecian honor to Trojan honor.

The whole of the narrative may be summed up tersely: Achilles is offended by Agamemnon and refuses to fight the Trojans any longer, whereupon the Trojans — realizing that their greatest foe is no longer a threat — attack the Greek camp and cause massive destruction. Achilles' friend then steps out disguised as Achilles, causing the Trojans to flee in panic; but Hector realizes the ruse and slays the friend of Achilles, whose anger is then turned from Agamemnon to the Trojans. Achilles does battle with Hector, slays him, and drags his corpse from the back of his chariot, insulting the Trojans as he does so. Thereupon the father of Hector, King Priam, humbles himself before Achilles and begs the body back so that it may receive an honorable burial.

Honor is the overarching theme — and the sense, here, is that honor is a noble idea, one that, if held by men at all times, would surely go a long way toward eliminating the destruction that war brings. The Iliad begins with the dishonor of Achilles and ends with the honor of his equal Hector, following, of course, Hector's dishonor at the hand of Achilles.

Nobility and Comedy in Lysistrata

Lysistrata is also, one realizes upon its completion, a play about honor. Comedic in tone, it tackles the subject in a very different fashion — but nonetheless, the conclusion is similar in idea to that of the Iliad. The women of the warring city-states, Athens and Sparta, agree to a solution that will convince the men to stop their warring and dissolve their differences for the sake of peace. Respect is shown on both sides, and neither city-state is treated derisively. On the contrary, the Athenians mark the occasion by celebrating with a Spartan dance — a tribute of honor to the enemy with whom they have warred. The idea is noble to the core.

The manner in which Aristophanes treats the idea, however, is quite striking when compared to Homer, whose Iliad is serious in tone. Aristophanes' comedy is bawdy, raunchy, and absurd — and yet it retains a kind of realism that emanates from the very fact that what the playwright has at heart is the idea of nobility, manifest not only at the end of the play but also at the beginning, just as in The Iliad:

Calonice: Tell me, Lysistrata dear, what is it you've summoned the meeting of the women for? Is it something big?
Lysistrata: Very.
Calonice: Not thick as well?
Lysistrata: As a matter of fact, yes.
Calonice: Then why on earth aren't they here?
Lysistrata: No, not that kind of thing — well, not exactly. […] No, I've had an idea, which for many sleepless nights I've been tossing to and fro.
Calonice: Must be a pretty flimsy one, in that case.
Lysistrata: Flimsy? Calonice, we women have the salvation of Greece in our hands.
Calonice: In our hands? We might as well give up hope then. (181)

The humor is apparent — Calonice assumes Lysistrata's "something big" refers to a male erection — but so too is the nobility of the dream of the woman for whom the play is named. Lysistrata's "something big" is not a reference to a portion of the male anatomy, but rather to an idea she has developed: a way to end the Peloponnesian Wars.

What Aristophanes achieves is a delicate balance between the human and the ideal. The social nature of the comedy revels in earthy humor — a constant stream of jokes that reminds us of our human natures — yet it also reaches for a noble idea. As Robert Browning suggests, "A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?" (98). Lysistrata is a comedic attempt to reach for heavenly peace, and it succeeds in a way that is much different from the Homeric.

Works Cited

Aristophanes. Lysistrata / The Acharnians / The Clouds. Trans. Alan Sommerstein. New York: Penguin Classics, 1973. Print.

Browning, Robert. "Andrea del Sarto." Web. 12 Nov. 2011.

Homer. The Iliad. Trans. Robert Fitzgerald. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008. Print.