Visiting the archaeological museums around Naples, your mind is set likely to only one end. No doubt, most tourists to the area are there with no goal other than to see Romans. The western coast of Campania, especially the bay of Naples, is a hotspot for fantastic places to experience Roman history, from Herculaneum to Pompeii to Stabiae to Cumae. But the museums are not only filled with the treasures of the Romans. Tourists will be surprised when they come across cases upon cases of fragments, all dating back before Rome itself, belonging to a variety of Greeks. One such artefact, in a museum on the island of Ischia, is one of the most important finds in Mediterranean archaeology to date.
The artefact in question is a rather unassuming cup. At first glance, it may be hard to see why it is so special. It is dated between 730-725, and is decorated as we would expect for that time period. After the fall of the Bronze Age, Greek pottery took a couple steps in a more abstract direction. Stepping away from depictions of nature, like the octopus vase I covered here, the geometric style came about. Often, this style is contrasted with the later figure vases (the pop culture image of a greek vase) and the earlier Mycenaean pottery, then immediately brushed aside as an intermediary and rudimentary step back. This is an unfair assessment, as the simplistic geometry holds its own in aesthetic. Furthermore, it is important to remember that this era of Greek history was typically brushed aside too, as it was not Athens that dominated trade and culture, but Corinth. Our cup in question falls into a subset of geometric, known as Late Geometric.
This does not explain why there is so much Greek pottery so far from Greece itself. For that, we must turn to history. In the 9th and 8th centuries BCE, the Greek city states were just beginning to find their feet in the landscape of the Mediterranean. This meant a lot of trading and settling. At this point in time, we see a lot of Greek colonies and influences start to spread, especially in Italy and modern day Croatia. One such site, Neapolis, is now modern day Naples. This lead to the terming ‘magna Graecia’ (big Greece) for the widespread settling.
The gulf of Naples was bustling with this kind of economic and social exchange. Though inhabited since at least the Bronze Age, the island of Ischia was home to a settlement of Greeks, at least so we theorise. It is hard to pin down what exactly a colony is, because to define a Greek colony we must first define Greekness, which is not the place for me to do. Semantics aside, the site of Pithekousia has a lot of evidence of such interaction. A settlement seems to have been founded in the time period we are looking at, and there is plenty of Late Geometric pottery found in the local grave sites. We can confirm that there must have been cultural interaction between mainland Greece and this site, and scholars strongly believe a large population of those Greeks made their homes there. This fits our picture of the area nicely, as there are many such similar sites popping up around the same time.
So, this cup holds some importance as it is part of a trend of mass movement and exploration. It is part of a shift in the world, a reaching out of a blossoming city state. It shows the early signs of maritime trade starting to form, and the spread of art between the interactions of cultures. But why have I singled out this cup? Well, the cup represents something more than just a purchase. In a way, it shows Greek tradition spreading. This style of cup, a krater is common at a symposium which is a staple in upper class Greek life. It shows not just that the residents were buying Greek things, but also Greek ideas were spreading too. But there are many better preserved and arguably prettier cups in the same pottery style, so why this one?
The cup, as interesting as it is, may have been relegated to just another find, if it weren’t for the inscription it contains. The words etched into the cup are, without a doubt, utterly fascinating. The greek written on the cup reads right to left in entirety, which is likely utterly unique. Greek inscriptions tend to read left to right, like in English, though often early ones alternate left to right, then right to left on the following line. This is known as boustrophedon which translates to ‘as the ox turns’, reminiscent of the path a plough takes in a field.
The direction of the writing is incredibly interesting, because scholars do not seem to know why it reads contrary to almost every greek inscription. Even as far back as linear B, the writing system used by the Greeks before the alphabet, words were written left to right. Whats more, the inscription contains rather interesting punctuation, which I promise is not as boring as it sounds. The text uses a ‘:’ symbol to indicate something, as it often appears between words. However, it does not appear between every word, thus cannot represent a space. My best guess is that it is used for a pause, as the text is written in a poetic meter.
What then does the inscription actually say? There is some debate regarding the reconstruction of the text, as parts are missing due to the fragmentation of the cup. For the first time in this series, I have provided my own translation, based on a reliable reconstruction of the text1. So, it reads:
I am the Nestor’s cup, pleasant to drink from.
And whomever would drink from this cup,
Desire of beautifully crowned Aphrodite will seize him at once.
Many Classicists have immediately jumped to the conclusion that this must be a reference to Book 11 of the Iliad. Within the middle of this section, Nestor sits down for a cup of wine amidst the battle. The scene is iconic, and rather amusing from a modern perspective. Hecamede provides the drink for Nestor, setting out the table in a ritualistic fashion. First she pulls a table towards Nestor and his guests, beautifully described. She then places a basket in front of him, which we are told contains onions, honey and barley. Homer informs us that this eclectic selection is ‘a relish for the drink’. It does however get weirder. We are given a glorious description of the cup and a little of its backstory, Homer claiming that only Nestor is strong enough to lift the golden goblet. Then, Hecamede fills it with wine, grates goats cheese over the top, and scatters barley in it.
The recipe Homer gives us certainly sounds interesting, and does not sound very appetising. I would love to read a paper by a scholar who has given it a go. Ignoring that, the grandeur of the scene is undoubtable. So, if the cup inscription is in reference to this, it has many implications for the poem and cup alike. For the poem it could tell us that it had been composed prior to the date of this cup, if the owner of the cup truly was familiar with the text. In the long debates over putting a date on the composition, this is a vital piece to consider. Could we then conclude that the owner of this cup was familiar with the Iliad from wandering bards telling the tale? Or, further, had the Iliad been written down by this point? The inscription on the cup is not strong enough evidence alone for either, but vital in the consideration of both. Unfortunately, we can conclude neither, though the theories alone are fascinating.
As for the implications for the cup itself, the debate from scholars is equally as unresolved. Many believe that it must be some form of joke. After all, this cup is not some mighty golden heroic goblet, just a standard pottery drinking vessel. So is it a deliberate over-exaggeration, likening the cup and thus its owner to a hero? Is it perhaps linking Nestor to Aphrodite, a goddess commonly associated with attractive younger heroes, and thus creating an amusing contrast? We cannot know for certain, but it is commonly acknowledged by scholars that there is something at play here. Is this maybe a very early version of an ironic coffee mug, such as the ones you might get a relative for Christmas? This is a delightful thought, even if it is not certain.
There are plenty of other readings of the cup and its inscription. Another incredibly interesting view is that it may be a ‘magical’ item. Some scholars have argued that the metre of the inscription links to those found on ‘curse’ inscriptions, such as fragments of pottery left as offerings. This was a common practice, inscribing things on bits of pot and leaving them in a religious context, especially for the Romans. Many such items have been found throughout the Mediterranean, with inscriptions as petty as ‘curse the man who stole my cloak’ to anything much more serious. So, if we read it in this context, could this perhaps be a cup intended to bring love? This is certainly a stance that could be argued, and like the coffee mug idea is something we could see happening. Though a little more foreign to us, it isn’t a wild thought to suppose this cup might have been used for a ‘love potion’. Perhaps sold to its owner by a dodgy salesman preying upon insecurity, promising his wares would bring his customer luck in the dating scene, maybe even adding a heroic twist via Nestor’s name to build the reputation of it? Again, we cannot know for certain, but this is another thought that adds a layer of humanity to the find.
So, where does this leave us? The inscription on the cup could easily be put down to a variety of interpretations, each fascinating. The cup has value to Homeric scholars, those studying humour in the ancient world, and those interested in folk superstition. No matter your reading of the vase, it is nonetheless fascinating to imagine its purpose. Whether we picture it owned by a fanboy of Nestor, perhaps given as a comedic gift to a Homeric fanatic, or bought by someone lovesick and a little gullible, it is undoubtedly a fascinating and enchanting find.
Sources and Further Reading:
Watkins, Calvert. “Observations on the ‘Nestor’s Cup’ Inscription.” Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 80 (1976): 25–40.
West, Stephanie. “Nestor’s Bewitching Cup.” Zeitschrift Für Papyrologie Und Epigraphik 101 (1994): 9–15.
DeVries, Keith. “Eighth-Century Corinthian Pottery: Evidence for the Dates of Greek Settlement in the West.” Corinth 20 (2003): 141–56.
Jeffery, L.H. The Local Scripts of Archaic Greece: A Study of the Origin of the Greek Alphabet and its Development from the Eighth to the Fifth Centuries B.C. (1963). Oxford University Press.
Faraone, Christopher A. “Taking the ‘Nestor’s Cup Inscription’ Seriously: Erotic Magic and Conditional Curses in the Earliest Inscribed Hexameters” Classical Antiquity 15 (1996): 77–112
Homer, Iliad tr. Fagles, R, Penguin Classics (1990): 317
Based on the reconstruction of L. H. Jeffrey in The Local Scripts of Archaic Greece: A Study of the Origin of the Greek Alphabet and its Development from the Eighth to the Fifth Centuries B.C. Oxford University Press 1963. Translating this was more difficult than I anticipated, as my Ancient Greek is intermediate at best.