{"title":"《伊利亚特》中的关怀结构。","authors":"K Lynn-George","doi":"10.1093/cq/46.1.1","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"When Andromache emerges from the inner chamber in Book 22, ascends the walls of Troy and looks out over the plain, she beholds a spectacle of ruthless brutality. She who has not been aware of the final combat, nor of the slaying of her husband, is suddenly confronted by the receding trail of utter defeat. Swift horses drag her husband's corpse into the distance, the cherished head disfigured as it is dragged, raking the dust of what was once their homeland. The violence of the scene is forcefully conveyed by one word in particular. The swift horses drag Hektor ⋯κηδ⋯στως (22.465)—without κ⋯δος without care, ‘sans soucier de, brutalement’. In itself the word ⋯κηδ⋯στως provides a definition of violence, one captured in Shakespeare's phrase ‘careless force’. Violence is, in its harsh brutality, specifically heedlessness, an absence of any form of care. When Achilles hurls the slain suppliant Lykaon into the river he utters the taunt, ‘the fish, ⋯κηδ⋯ες, will lick clean your wound's blood’ (21.122–3). The discarded corpse is denied funeral rites: in place of the care that the relations of the dead traditionally bestow in tending, washing, enshrouding, lamenting, and burying the dead, here the heedless creatures of nature, fleeting visitors, will attend to the corpse, ‘clean’ it, but utterly without care, completely oblivious to the oblivion they create by destroying. In Book 24 Achilles will describe the gods themselves as ⋯κηδ⋯ες (526).","PeriodicalId":47185,"journal":{"name":"CLASSICAL QUARTERLY","volume":"46 1","pages":"1-26"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2000,"publicationDate":"1996-01-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1093/cq/46.1.1","citationCount":"22","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Structures of care in \\\"The Iliad\\\".\",\"authors\":\"K Lynn-George\",\"doi\":\"10.1093/cq/46.1.1\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"When Andromache emerges from the inner chamber in Book 22, ascends the walls of Troy and looks out over the plain, she beholds a spectacle of ruthless brutality. She who has not been aware of the final combat, nor of the slaying of her husband, is suddenly confronted by the receding trail of utter defeat. Swift horses drag her husband's corpse into the distance, the cherished head disfigured as it is dragged, raking the dust of what was once their homeland. The violence of the scene is forcefully conveyed by one word in particular. The swift horses drag Hektor ⋯κηδ⋯στως (22.465)—without κ⋯δος without care, ‘sans soucier de, brutalement’. In itself the word ⋯κηδ⋯στως provides a definition of violence, one captured in Shakespeare's phrase ‘careless force’. Violence is, in its harsh brutality, specifically heedlessness, an absence of any form of care. When Achilles hurls the slain suppliant Lykaon into the river he utters the taunt, ‘the fish, ⋯κηδ⋯ες, will lick clean your wound's blood’ (21.122–3). The discarded corpse is denied funeral rites: in place of the care that the relations of the dead traditionally bestow in tending, washing, enshrouding, lamenting, and burying the dead, here the heedless creatures of nature, fleeting visitors, will attend to the corpse, ‘clean’ it, but utterly without care, completely oblivious to the oblivion they create by destroying. In Book 24 Achilles will describe the gods themselves as ⋯κηδ⋯ες (526).\",\"PeriodicalId\":47185,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"CLASSICAL QUARTERLY\",\"volume\":\"46 1\",\"pages\":\"1-26\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.2000,\"publicationDate\":\"1996-01-01\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1093/cq/46.1.1\",\"citationCount\":\"22\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"CLASSICAL QUARTERLY\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1093/cq/46.1.1\",\"RegionNum\":3,\"RegionCategory\":\"历史学\",\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"Q1\",\"JCRName\":\"Arts and Humanities\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"CLASSICAL QUARTERLY","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1093/cq/46.1.1","RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"历史学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"Q1","JCRName":"Arts and Humanities","Score":null,"Total":0}
When Andromache emerges from the inner chamber in Book 22, ascends the walls of Troy and looks out over the plain, she beholds a spectacle of ruthless brutality. She who has not been aware of the final combat, nor of the slaying of her husband, is suddenly confronted by the receding trail of utter defeat. Swift horses drag her husband's corpse into the distance, the cherished head disfigured as it is dragged, raking the dust of what was once their homeland. The violence of the scene is forcefully conveyed by one word in particular. The swift horses drag Hektor ⋯κηδ⋯στως (22.465)—without κ⋯δος without care, ‘sans soucier de, brutalement’. In itself the word ⋯κηδ⋯στως provides a definition of violence, one captured in Shakespeare's phrase ‘careless force’. Violence is, in its harsh brutality, specifically heedlessness, an absence of any form of care. When Achilles hurls the slain suppliant Lykaon into the river he utters the taunt, ‘the fish, ⋯κηδ⋯ες, will lick clean your wound's blood’ (21.122–3). The discarded corpse is denied funeral rites: in place of the care that the relations of the dead traditionally bestow in tending, washing, enshrouding, lamenting, and burying the dead, here the heedless creatures of nature, fleeting visitors, will attend to the corpse, ‘clean’ it, but utterly without care, completely oblivious to the oblivion they create by destroying. In Book 24 Achilles will describe the gods themselves as ⋯κηδ⋯ες (526).
期刊介绍:
The Classical Quarterly has a reputation for publishing the highest quality classical scholarship for nearly 100 years. It publishes research papers and short notes in the fields of language, literature, history and philosophy. Two substantial issues (around 300 pages each) of The Classical Quarterly appear each year, in May and December. Given the quality and depth of the articles published in The Classical Quarterly, any serious classical library needs to have a copy on its shelves. Published for the The Classical Association