Jean-Claude Picot, aptly hailed as “the ever-vigilant guardian of all things Empedoclean,”[1] needs no introduction to students of Empedocles. Over the last thirty years, Picot has established himself as a leading scholar on that author: besides a host of pathbreaking articles, Picot maintains an extremely useful Empedoclean bibliography,[2] and signs of his influence and generosity are easy to find.[3] This book is another monument to Picot’s career so far, containing fifteen chapters, ten published previously (1998–2018) and reprinted here with slight modifications, followed by five new chapters that constitute half of the book, pursuing the same central themes with still greater scope and depth. The Introduction announces that the book is addressed “to a public already familiar with the grand lines of Empedocles’ thought, and hoping to plumb the depths of the particular question of Empedocles’ rapport with the gods” (translated). This is modest. Although some familiarity is presumed, most chapters provide substantial scaffolding, and there is much of interest even for those who may not feel gripped by that particular question, especially students of early Greek poetry. Each chapter was composed as an independent article, yet they also coalesce in an original vision of Empedocles’ teaching. Since a summary of each is impossible here, this review will attempt a synopsis of the book’s approach and achievements, and highlight some parts primarily from the five new pieces.
Many of the basic principles Picot maintains are widely shared. The Physika teaches of four imperishable “roots” governed by Love and Strife, in a cosmos fluctuating eternally between their union in Sphairos and their total separation in what Picot (taking a cue from Aristophanes, with Martin and Primavesi) calls the dinos (“whirl”). The Katharmoi propounds doctrines of reincarnation, daimones, etc. Empedocles probably wrote more than those two poems; nevertheless, the extant fragments probably belong only to them, and they must form a coherent whole.
Where Picot parts ways with many others is primarily on the matter of demythologization, especially by allegoresis: Picot argues, e.g., that Ananke and the Muse are proper goddesses. At the same time, Picot’s Empedocles is also admirably literary. Combining these two approaches, Picot makes pioneering use of allusions especially to Hesiodic and Homeric passages concerning gods and humanity’s relations with them, e.g. Hesiod’s myth of the five races (chapter 6). And although the influence of Bollack is prominent, Picot sides with O’Brien against Neoplatonic readings (esp. chapter 8). One might say that Picot’s project is re-mythologizing Empedocles as an early Greek poet. Central to that project is fr. 6, Picot’s approach to which is established already in his important review of Kingsley (chapter 2). Fr. 6 names the “roots” as Zeus, Hera, Aïdoneus (a rare name for Hades), and Nestis (probably a Sicilian Persephone). Although arguing persuasively that those four are linked with fire, air, earth, and water, respectively, Picot maintains that they cannot be simply identified with what would later be called “elements”: those divine names are not allegorical ornament, but keys to a cosmos occupied by distinct personalities. These conclusions prove fundamental for the following chapters. Also noteworthy in this regard is Picot’s use of two observations by Plutarch: that Empedocles’ epithets are never mere ornament, and that Empedocles identified water with Love and fire with Strife. The former features in arguments about fr. 6 etc., while the latter most importantly founds Picot’s identification of Nestis as a special ally of Love, and therefore also as Empedocles’ “immortal” Muse (reinforced by aquatic metaphors for inspiration); this Muse/Nestis is Empedocles’ chief source of wisdom. In addition, the “Blessed,” who rank among the “long-lived gods,” dwell on the moon, and Empedocles’ teaching is not required for reincarnation among them (chapters 5, 10, 12, 15). Indeed, moral ambivalence is a general feature of the cosmos and the major agents within it (see also chapters 7, 14); this is one aspect of the complexity that Picot uncovers.
The tone is set by chapter 1, a delightful study of Empedocles’ metaphor for the ear as an ὄζος (usually “branch”) by way of allusion to the Hesiodic Shield. Picot makes numerous observations that will reappear, including the principle that in interpreting Empedocles one should risk erring on the side of complexity.
Chapter 3 begins by examining the paleographical evidence for the long-accepted identification of an Empedoclean quote about “cutting from five springs” in Theon of Smyrna (fr. 143) with one of a pair of anonymous quotes about sacrifice in Aristotle’s Poetics (the other being fr. 138)—an identification that Picot masterfully dismantles. Consequently, no instance of ψυχή appears now in Empedocles’ fragments (fr. 138 is not in Laks-Most; cf. D35), and, with fr. 143 separated from sacrifice, Picot argues convincingly that its “five springs” are the five senses from which the student must draw, and situates them within a network of agricultural metaphors.
Chapter 9 addresses an enigmatic use of ἄμβροτα (fr. 21.4, “immortal things”?), arguing for an allusion to the Iliad’s veiled Hera, whereby these ἄμβροτα are argued to be air in the form of white clouds.
Chapter 11, “Sphairos, ou le dieu caché,” takes up more metaphorical “branches.” The apophatic accounts of Sphairos and the “holy mind” (frr. 29,134) overlap with a line about how “two branches (κλάδοι) do not shoot forth from his back.” Picot, showing how in Greek arms are not said to emerge “from one’s back,” argues that these “branches” are wings, and that Empedocles is distinguishing Sphairos from Eros. On that basis and the identification of the “holy mind” with Apollo/Helios (chapter 8), Picot argues that fr. 134.2 was interpolated from fr. 29: no one needs to hear that Apollo lacks wings. A further intriguing suggestion is that Sphairos resembles the ball with which Eros sometimes plays, and the chapter ends with a full-page drawing of an ancient figurine dubbed “Éros Sphériste,” a waggish, winged boy with a ball in his hands.
Chapter 12, “Apollon chez Empédocle,” begins with the report that Empedocles wrote a prooimon to him, which Picot takes to be a separate, non-extant work, but not a hymn of praise. Picot argues that Empedocles was critical of Apollonian traditions including the Pythia, and notes that the Apollonian characters of fr. 146, who will be reincarnated as gods, are not said to be devotees of Love.
The modestly titled chapter 13, “Petite histoire d’une marginalisation,” is “une contribution à la réception du fr. 6,” focused on the demythologization of the “roots.” Here especially Picot displays his extraordinary diligence, charity, and catholicity in considering other interpretations (including, as usual, scholarship in many languages), while renewing his arguments about fr. 6.
Chapter 14, “Héra aux deux visages,” explores the ambivalence of Hera, whose traditional representation (esp. in Homer) Picot sees reflected in Empedocles’ descriptions of both nourishing and destructive air-phenomena.
The book’s subtitle becomes most salient in the grand final chapter, “Empédocle et le spectacle divin de la réincarnation,” which opens by doubting the testimonia that Empedocles believed in a familiar sort of metempsychosis, and then reconsiders the evidence for a novel conception of transmigration, conceived from the perspective of the gods but also on the basis of Empedocles’ physics. The chapter’s cornerstone is an analysis of the collage of quotations printed as fr. 115. Following Rashed’s re-ordering of the lines, Picot also argues against the standard τῶν καὶ ἐγὼ νῦν εἰμι (“of these [daimones] I too am now one,” fr. 115.13), deriving from a one-line quotation in Hippolytus, in favor of τὴν καὶ ἐγὼ νῦν εἶμι (“this [way?] I too am now going”), preserved in a longer run by Plutarch and preferred by Wilamowitz et al. (see also p. 397). Here, τήν would be τὴν ὁδόν—“ce chemin … qui, à son terme, mènera aux dieux Bienheureux” (p. 607). So Empedocles would no longer explicitly identify himself as one of the daimones. Stressing certain grammatical features of fr. 115 and the weakness of evidence that Empedocles’ daimones retain memories, Picot proposes that they are unconscious fragments of the Blessed, who as lunar creatures consist, like the moon, of solidified aether; each sinful Blessed bursts, Sphairos-like, into plural daimones. The gods, observing the oath of fr. 115 and punishing its transgressors, watch the daimones’ transmigration until their reunion in the Blessed reincarnate. But the spectators also join in the sport: through a possible allusion to Nausicaa’s game with her handmaidens, the daimones are imagined as balls tossed around by the elements (cf. fr. 115.9–11). Empedocles, in turn, does not claim to be a daimon, but proclaims his own participation in this general pattern. It is a bold and original intervention in the ongoing debate about Empedocles’ daimones, rich in further details and arguments.
The endmatter: an appendix of scholars’ statements on the daimones; another appendix defending the reading φόβῳ (fr. 115.3); bibliography; an “index du divin,” doubling as a partial index locorum by listing relevant fragments and testimonia; an index of other mythical figures; and another of adjectives and adverbs pertaining to the divine. These indices are excellent, but a full index locorum would have been welcome.The book is very well edited.[4]
The compilation of separate articles produces some repetition; but again, this makes the chapters more accessible individually. However, the original pagination is not indicated in the reprinted articles, whereas the citations of them even in the new chapters follow the originals; this unfortunately makes the volume less convenient for self-contained study.
A few small points. Chapters 3 and 10 show the potential value of keeping διατμηθέντος in fr. 4.3 (pace DK), but one misses comparison with διατμηθέντ’ (fr. 20.7). The discussion of doctrines of reincarnation (p. 567) could be augmented by the (contested) evidence that Empedocles was not the first to include plants.[5] On the reading τὴν (ὁδόν), a skeptic might note that the parallels cited all involve τήν with an attributive adjective or genitive or prepositional phrase—but one hesitates to go up against a gang led by Wilamowitz.
A more general question: Where can one draw the line in discerning the personification of Empedocles’ gods and other figures? Why, e.g., the full-fledged personalities of the gods but the impersonal daimones? If all things, including particles of the elements, have a share of thought (fr. 110.10), what about the daimones? Another related difficulty is Empedocles’ quasi-Hesiodic use of abstract nouns. One solution is taking them all as the opposite of mere abstractions, which Picot seems inclined to do. But is, e.g., Ananke definitely a goddess, a cosmic power alongside Love and Strife? These are difficult questions, and Picot has done probably more than any scholar to bring such questions to the fore, by exploring many subtle and neglected features of the evidence, and challenging many relevant assumptions.
In conclusion, this is a challenging and rewarding collection. True to his stated aim, Picot often hazards complex over-interpretations. Yet, although the skeptically inclined (whom he regularly addresses in friendly tones) may not always be persuaded, the process and the prospects afforded are always worthwhile. The evidence—drawn from numerous fields—is always well documented, the arguments always founded upon careful analysis of the fragments. There are thus two sides to Picot’s approach, reflected in his remarks that Empedocles “jongle avec les noms divins” (p. 51) but “ne joue pas avec les dieux” (p. 69). Picot, too, is an exceptionally serious and thorough interpreter, yet retains a lively sense of humor and play. The result is a treasury of material from Picot’s painstaking research and unflagging enthusiasm. Whether or not one follows him along each and every path he traces, it is undeniable that Picot θείων πραπίδων ἐκτήσατο πλοῦτον (fr. 132.1), and that Empedoclean studies will be guided and stimulated by this volume and Picot’s other work for the foreseeable future.
Notes
[1] D. O’Brien, “Empedocles on the Identity of the Elements,” Elenchos 37 (2016), 5.
[2] sites.google.com/site/empedoclesacragas/home
[3] Full disclosure: the reviewer too has benefited from both.
[4] Some corrections: χεῖρες for χείρες (p. 29); πρῶτ’ for πρῶθ’ (p. 315); “(Pythique IV, 228<–229>)” and “(Pythique[)] I, 28<)>,” where the νῶτον incidentally is not Earth’s, but Typhos’ (p. 344); Ἥρῃ for Ηρῃ (p. 523); Ἀψευδής for Αψευδής (p. 525).
[5] W. Burkert, Lore and Science in Early Pythagoreanism (Harvard 1972), 133, 183–185.