Some Mythinformation
Titanomachia, Gigantomachia, Theomachia, Amazonmachia, Centauromachia... You can’t tell your Olympian battles apart without a score-tablet. Whether a metaphor for geological phenomena, a theo-mythic psychomachia between chaos and order, or an allegory for distant historical events, the concept of a war in heaven has been around for a while and was prevalent in Ancient Near Eastern, Judeo-Christian, and Classical mythic narratives.
In ancient Greek, the suffix “machia” means dispute or battle. With this post, your Archivist is reviewing books and objects from The Collection pertaining to assaults on the Greco-Roman gods of Mount Olympus, most notably the Gigantomachy (Battle of the Giants). The Classical Greek myths are replete with cosmic battles for supremacy, beginning with the Titan Cronos’ usurpation of his father Uranus to his own unseating by his son Zeus (known as the Titanomachia). Later Zeus’ power would be challenged by a number of giants and monsters, the progeny of the earth goddess Gaia who herself seems to have been behind a number of these insurrections.
A few accounts of the Gigantomachy survive from early Greek sources, but it is not until the Latin writings of Ovid (Metamorphosis, c. 8 CE) and the author known as Pseudo-Apollodorus (Biblioteca, 1st – 2nd Century CE) that we learn about the battle in detail. Taken together, these works tell of giants “unsurpassed in size”, attacking “the very throne of heaven”, “piling mountain upon mountain” to gain access to Olympus. Rendered invulnerable by their mother Gaia, they were only defeated with the help of Herakles who joined in the battle on his father Zeus’ side. A more comedic account of the battle is told by Pseudo-Hyginus (De Astronomica, c. 1st Century CE). Here the giants are frightened by the braying of terrified donkeys ridden by satyrs as they neared the battleground. This telling seems a bit as(s)inine.
After the defeat of the giants at the hands of the Olympians (punnery will out), Gaia set her monstrous child Typhoeus upon Zeus. Typhoeus was an anguipede (a snake-legged being- oh, I’ll have so much more to say about anguipedes in another post...) and was larger and more monstrous than the giants. In Hesiod’s version of the battle (Theogony, c. 8th Century BCE) Typhon is easily defeated by Zeus. In Nonnus's telling (Dionysiaca, c. 4th Century CE), Typhon initially defeated Zeus, but the Olympian ultimately prevailed with the aid of the mortal Cadmus and the god Pan.
Literary Giants
I never cease to be amazed (and amused) at the breadth of scholarship on topics that many might find obscure. While I am by no means a Classical scholar, books such as these allow someone such a myself to dabble in arcana to my heart’s content.
Zeus : A Study in Ancient Religion, Volume II. 1965 edition.
Hardcover book by Arthur B. Cook. Biblio and Tannen. About 16 x 23 cm., 1,398 pp. in two volumes.
A wonderful cornucopia of every aspect small and large of the thunder god’s life and attributes in the encyclopedic tradition of Frazer’s Golden Bough. Cook wrote this opus over a 26-year period, and it is well-suited for aimless browsing. Interspersed in the text of this volume are over one thousand illustrations and photos.
A Jovian Wunderkammer
A deity worth his mettle...
Challenges to the Power of Zeus in Early Greek Poetry. 2011.
Hardcover book by Noriko Yasumura. Bristol Classical Press. About 16 x 24 cm., 224 pp.
This scholarly text catalogues Zeus’ numerous confrontations with gods and monsters in early Greek literature. The author combines well-synthesized and documented narratives with her own theories as to their interpretation and place in larger mythic cycles.
A peek inside.
The War with God: Theomachy in Roman Imperial Poetry. 2014.
Hardcover book by Pramit Chaudhuri. Oxford University Press. About 16 x 24 cm., 386 pp.
In this book, Chaudhuri examines mythological and literary narratives of divine conflict in the context of Imperial Roman literature and society. He ventures well beyond Virgil’s Augustan epic The Aeneid and considers the larger impact of his subject in western literature and thought.
Numerous gems for Classical scholars and dilettantes alike.
Anguipedes, Hecatoncheires, and Cyclopes – Oh My!
Mythic archetypes endure because they are essential in their message to human experience; they are perpetually reinterpreted and rejuvenated, thereby retaining their contemporaneous relevance. At its most basic, the Gigantomachy is about the battle between order and chaos, culture and barbarism. Giants are depicted as nude, utilizing stones and spears for weapons. In contrast, their Olympian adversaries are clothed, armed with thunderbolts forged by Cyclopes.
Through a moralizing Christian lens, the Gigantomachy is a metaphor for the battle between piety and impiety on either a societal or personal level. Many of the objects reviewed below are prints from various illustrated editions of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which has served as a handbook for artists for centuries, inspiring innumerable emblems, prints, and paintings. Let the onslaught begin...
Giants Fight Against Jupiter and All the Gods. c. 17th Century.
Engraving on paper from unidentified book (likely Ovid’s Metamorphoses). Published in the Netherlands. About 17 x 22 cm.
In this print, waves of “primitive” unclothed combatants wield clubs, spears, and a sling in their assault on Mount Olympus. Thunderbolts rain from the heavens striking several, sending them flailing towards the ground. Many of the giants are depicted from behind; this is an artistic device employed to draw the viewer into the narrative action.
Giants got back!
“Tremble Before the Throne of God”. c. 1685.
Engraving on paper by A. Clouzier for Monsieur de Gomberville from La Doctrine des Moeurs, Paris. About 9 x 15 cm.
This leaf is from an emblem book of allegorical images by (inhale first) Marin le Roy, sieur du Parc et de Gomberville, a 17th Century Parisian poet and novelist. With this image, de Gomberville appears to be engaging in a bit of Classical typology, finding synchronicity between the Greek Gigantomachy and Old Testament Tower of Babel myth. The challenge to Zeus by the Giants is an analogue for the impiety and insolence of humans in the face of the Yahweh. Behind the more-or-less standard depiction of Titans carrying boulders is a partially-constructed conical tower, reminiscent of Breugel’s Tower of Babel, amongst others. In this print, the supreme deity is shown as only as a hand holding a thunderbolt, leaving the identity open to the viewer’s Pagan or Christian-oriented interpretation.
Gigantomachia. c. 1685
Engraving on paper by Johann Wilhelm Baur from the " Bellissimum Ovidii theatrum ". Published in Nuremburg. About 18 x 28 cm.
This expressionist rendition of the Gigantomachy is from a series of copper engravings Baur created to illustrate Ovid’s Metamorphoses. One of the giants is depicted drawing a bow. This is unique amongst those versions of the Gigantomachia presented here as it is a relatively “civilized” weapon. Of particular interest to your Archivist is the anecdote that Baur used to engage in conversations with inanimate objects when working. And the problem with that is...?
Ovid’s Metamorphoses. c. 1690
Engraving on paper by Johann Ulrich Kraus from Die Verwandlungen des Ovidii in zweyhundert und sechsundzwantzig Kupffern. Published in Augsburg. About 13 x 19 cm.
This leaf depicts both the legend of Pandora and that of the Gigantomachy from a the wonderfully self-descriptive work, The Metamorphoses of Ovid in Two Hundred and Twenty-Six Coppers. The iconographic connection between the two images seems tenuous. Pandora embodied Zeus’ revenge against humans while the Gigantomachy depicted a martial victory.
The giants’ bodies are deftly composed to conform to the rectangular frame.
Les Geans. Late 17th Century.
Engraving on paper after Antonio Tempesta’s Metamorphosean Sive Transformationum. Published by Willem Jansz. France. About 13 x 19 cm.
This engraving takes the composition of an early 17th Century work by Antonia Tempesta but differs in execution and language (French vs. Latin). Of the early prints reviewed here, this one provides the most detailed view of the Olympian pantheon.
Gigantomachy. 18th Century (?).
Copper engraving on paper from an unidentified edition of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Text in Dutch. About 29 x 47 cm.
What’s interesting about this rendition of the Gigantomachy is the complete focus on the pathos of the giants. Zeus and the Olympians are completely absent from the image. Tumbling and crushed beneath rocks, the giants in this print are portrayed more sympathetically than in most other versions.
It’s raining giants (with apologies to The Weather Girls)!
Uranomachi. 1730s.
Copper engraving on paper from Pysica Sacra by Johann Jakob Scheuchzer. About 23 x 39 cm.
As Descartes sought to reconcile a deterministic model of natural science with divine free will, so Scheuchzer tried to synthesize Christian and Enlightenment narratives in his images- all science was of divine origin. In this image from his massive Pysica Sacra, Scheuchzer shows Zeus with his common attribute, an eagle. Beneath him, giants toil at piling rocks in a Sisyphean effort. Instead of engaging in typological comparisons with the Tower of Babel visually, a quote from Genesis (11.3) suffices. The citation refers to the making of bricks for the tower. In the marginal illustrations, various types of brick towers are shown of such height as to dwarf the earth.
A giant-size close up.
No doubt an inspiration for one Ole Kirk Christiansen...
De strijd met de Titanen. c. 1733.
Engraving on paper by Bernard Picart Le Romain from Tafereel, of Beschryving van den prachtigen Tempel der Zang-Godinnen. Published in Amsterdam. About 25 x 36 cm.
This is one of 60 plates from The Temple of the Muses which illustrate Ovid’s Metamorphoses. It is somewhat similar to Scheuchzer’s composition (above) but features many more giants.
Another day at the quarry.
a l'asault des etoiles. c. 1767.
Engraving on paper by Charles Monnet from Metamorphoses d'Ovide: Traduites En François, Avec Des Remarques Et Des Explications Historiques. Published in France. About 17 x 25 cm.
The figures in this composition are particularly animated and the giants are depicted wielding clubs instead of moving boulders.
A closer view of the action.
Frontispiece for Ovid’s Metamorphoses. c. 1740.
Engraving on paper from an unidentified edition of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. About 12 x 20 cm.
Ensconced amongst several mythic narratives in this frontispiece is the Gigantomachy. Here the giants are attempting to summit a scaled-down mountain of boulders, repelled by Zeus, and what could be Athena (with her helmet) and Cronos holding a scythe.
Oh, there they are...
Zeus and Typhus. c. 1780.
Copper engraving on paper by A Migneret after Jean Baptiste Wicar. Published in France. About 34 x 25 cm.
Wicar was a member of Napoleon’s entourage who studied in David’s studio. In this scene, Zeus is depicted riding a chariot, which is associated with the sound of thunder, an accompaniment to the storm god’s lightning. He is shown overtaking an anguipede, likely Typhus. The print is rendered in the style of an engraved gemstone with an ovoid shape and simple composition.
Apparently, a serpentine path does not always result in the avoidance of capture (tell that to your In Laws!).
Zeus Fighting Anguipedes. 19th C. (?).
Bronze electrotype (?) over lead plaque. About 6 x 9 cm.
This medal is patterned after a Sardonyx cameo by a gem engraver who worked in Pergamon during the reign of Eumenes II (197 – 159 BCE). Here two anguipedes are shown falling beneath Zeus’ thunderous chariot. Some classical authors generically described giants as anguipedes.
Battle of the Gods and Giants. 1908.
Print on paper from an unidentified book in English. About 18 x 24 cm.
In contrast to earlier compositions discussed above, the Olympians in this print occupy almost half the half the scene and are depicted in great detail. Below, giants take up more space than boulders as they struggle against the gods.
One giant seems particularly aggrieved.
De strijd met de Titanen. c. 1930.
Advertising card in Dutch. Liebig's Extract of Meat Company. About 11 x 7 cm.
This one has it all- and in color! A nice rendition of the Gigantomachy with boulders flying; jam-packed with giants, serpents, a hydra, and an anguipede.
a l'asault des etoiles. c. 1960.
Advertising card in French. Jacques Super Chocolate (Belgium). About 7 x 5 cm.
Hmmm... Not so much giants as handsome blonde men in white boxer-briefs in this one. Perhaps this is where Calvin Klein got his, um, inspiration.
Gigantomachy with Graffiti. c 17th Century.
Engraving on paper, probably from an emblem book with contemporaneous (?) graffiti. Printed in France (?). About 11 x 17 cm.
Although out of chronology, I think you’ll soon understand why I left this one for last. While this composition does include a few giants poking and probing with clubs and spears, the main scene illustrates the fate of the giant Enceladus, opponent of Athena (shown next to Zeus, wearing her characteristic helmet), who was buried under Mount Etna during the conflict. Etna is an active volcano and Enceladus is depicted surrounded by flames and hissing snakes, geo-metaphors for volcanic activity.
Oh, but this isn’t the real reason your Archivist saved this print for last. No; look closely and you’ll see what makes this one the gem of the collection. Some mischievous draughtsman, likely of near contemporaneous age, has drawn pipes in various orifices of the giants and gods! Neither Duchamp nor Magritte could have done better! Can you find them all?
Put that in your pipe and smoke it (or visa-versa)! A fitting end this installment...
Adhering to your Archivist’s self-imposed constraint of only depicting items that are in The Collection (yet again) did not prove overly-difficult. I hope you enjoyed this installment’s theme and its accompanying glimpse into yet another of one person’s myriad obsessions. And don’t worry- there’s plenty more to come...
Thank you for visiting.
de Gustibus
“Nothing is but what is not.”