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Multicultural banqueting in the development of archaic Greek society : an investigation into modes of… Solez, Kevin Bradley 2014

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MULTICULTURAL BANQUETING IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF ARCHAIC GREEK SOCIETY: AN INVESTIGATION INTO MODES OF INTERCULTURAL CONTACT  by  KEVIN BRADLEY SOLEZ B.A. (Hons. First Class), University of Alberta, 2003 M.A., Johns Hopkins University, 2009   A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF   DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY  in  THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE AND POSTDOCTORAL STUDIES (Classics)   THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver)  October 2014  © Kevin Bradley Solez, 2014   ii   Abstract  Did Greeks and non-Greeks banquet together in the first half of the first millennium BCE, and if so, how does this mode of cultural contact explain the evidence of cultural exchange between Greece and the Near East? Following suggestions in scholarship that Greeks shared a banqueting culture with West Semitic peoples, and that Greeks sometimes banqueted with non-Greeks, this dissertation presents evidence that Greeks banqueted with non-Greeks, explains why they should have done so in terms of earlier practices and anthropological theory, and argues that multicultural banquets were the primary mode of peaceful cultural contact in the thought-world of Greeks in the eighth and seventh centuries BCE.  Chapter 1 addresses the evidence for multicultural banqueting before the first millennium, and finds that it was a feature of diplomacy in the Late Bronze Age (1700-1100). Objects and texts are examined and used as evidence that members of various populations learned foreign banqueting customs. I argue that the multicultural banqueting in the Iron Age (1100-750) and Archaic period (750-490) is a revival of Late Bronze Age diplomatic practices. Chapter 2 addresses evidence for reclined banqueting in the Iron Age, arguing that it is a result of multicultural banqueting among various groups. It is interpreted as a feature of diplomacy and as an instantiation of the anthropological theory of Mary Helms (1988) that elites seek out external symbols of status in order to be recognized as elite by foreigners and to differentiate themselves at home. Chapter 3 focuses on the Iliad and finds that multicultural banquets are philologically distinguished from banquets among iii  Greeks, and that the banquet is essential in cultural contact where hostility is possible. Chapter 4 focuses on the Odyssey and demonstrates that banqueting mediates contact between Greeks and non-Greeks in the Archaic imagination. I hope hereby to construct a stable mode of contact that explains the evidence of cultural exchange between Greek and West Semitic populations, such as the alphabet, the burning of incense in ritual, and adaptations of gods and cults. The multicultural banquet becomes an interpretive model for developments in Archaic Greek literature, culture, and society. iv  Preface  This dissertation is the original, unpublished, independent work of the author, Kevin Solez. v   Table of Contents Abstract ................................................................................................................................... ii Preface ................................................................................................................................... iv Table of Contents ................................................................................................................... v List of Tables ......................................................................................................................... ix List of Figures ......................................................................................................................... x List of Abbreviatons ............................................................................................................. xv Acknowledgements ............................................................................................................ xvii Dedication .......................................................................................................................... xviii Introduction ............................................................................................................................ 1 Defining Terms ................................................................................................................... 1 Multiculturalism and Culture.......................................................................................... 1 Banquet ........................................................................................................................... 3 Development ................................................................................................................... 4 Archaic............................................................................................................................ 7 Greek Society ................................................................................................................. 8 History of Scholarship on Modes of Cultural Contact ....................................................... 9 Motivations of the Present Study ...................................................................................... 33 Multicultural Banqueting .............................................................................................. 33 Chapter 1: Multicultural banqueting in the Mediterranean from the Late Bronze Age to the Iron Age ................................................................................................................................ 40 vi  Introduction ...................................................................................................................... 40 Minoan-Mycenaean Multicultural Banqueting in the LBA ............................................. 43 The LBA Mycenaean Drinking Service, Mycenaean Pictorial Kraters, and their Significance for the Question of Multicultural Banqueting ............................................. 45 Iconography of the Banquet in the East Mediterranean and Mesopotamia ...................... 53 Banqueting, Hospitality, and Diplomacy: The Amarna Letters ....................................... 63 Iron Age Transitions – New Communities, New Elites, New Styles ............................... 70 Ritual Feasting in Early Iron Age Crete and Mainland Greece ........................................ 73 The Emergence of the EIA Warrior Feasting Equipment ................................................ 78 Phoenicia, the Phoenician Expansion, and the Special Case of Cyprus ........................... 83 Chapter 2: The Development of Reclined Banqueting in the Mediterranean – Phoenicia and the Levant, Cyprus, Crete, Anatolia, Assyria, Corinth, Etruria, and Sicily.......................... 87 Introduction ...................................................................................................................... 87 Phoenicia and the Levant .................................................................................................. 88 Cyprus ............................................................................................................................. 101 Crete................................................................................................................................ 112 Anatolia .......................................................................................................................... 118 Assyria ............................................................................................................................ 121 Corinth ............................................................................................................................ 128 Etruria ............................................................................................................................. 136 Sicily ............................................................................................................................... 140 Historical Synthesis of the Development of Reclined Banqueting in the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia from the Eighth to the Sixth Century BCE ....................................... 144 vii  Women at the Banquet ................................................................................................... 160 Chapter 3: Multicultural Banqueting in the Iliad ............................................................... 163 Introduction .................................................................................................................... 163 Theory and Methodology ............................................................................................... 166 Cultural Homogeneity and Cultural Difference in the Iliad ........................................... 171 The Ethics and Ideology of the Banquet ........................................................................ 178 The Sociology of the Banquet ........................................................................................ 185 The Banquets of the Gods .............................................................................................. 192 Multicultural Banqueting in the Iliad ............................................................................. 199 Conclusion ...................................................................................................................... 220 Chapter 4: Multicultural Banqueting in the Odyssey.......................................................... 224 Introduction .................................................................................................................... 224 Odysseus’ Eye on the “Other” ........................................................................................ 231 Motives of Intercultural Contact ..................................................................................... 234 Multicultural banqueting in the Odyssey ........................................................................ 249 Conclusion ...................................................................................................................... 256 Conclusion .......................................................................................................................... 260 General Conclusions ....................................................................................................... 260 Specific Arguments in Chapters 1-4 ............................................................................... 263 Multicultural Banqueting as Interpretive Model ............................................................ 273 Multicultural Banqueting in the Development of Archaic Greek Culture and Society .. 277 Tables ................................................................................................................................. 283 Figures ................................................................................................................................ 289 viii  References .......................................................................................................................... 296  ix  List of Tables Table 1: Cultural contact in the Odyssey, coordinated with its motivations, the groups involved, and the question of whether banqueting featured in the encounter. ................... 287 Table 2: Diagram from Dougherty 2001 (adapted from de Certeau 1988). In blue, I have plotted more examples of cultural contact on the axes of geographical distance and cultural difference and added details of the banqueting involved. .................................................. 288 x  List of Figures  Figure 1: Drawing of LMII-LMIIIA bronze banqueting service from Tomb 14 at Zapher-Papoura, near Knossos. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 6.. .......................................... 290 Figure 2: LHIIIB Mycenaean pictorial krater from Pyle-Verghi, Cyprus, in Nicosia, Cyprus Museum 1952/IV-12/1. Reprinted from Rystedt 2006, Fig. 1. .............................. 290 Figure 3: The Standard of Ur, British Museum, ME 121201, AN, 2600-2400 BCE. Reprinted from the website of the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, Accessed on 19 March 2012. ................................................................................................................................... 290 Figure 4: Akkadian I Period cylinder seal. Reprinted from Selz 1983, Fig. 462. ............. 290 Figure 5: Post-Akkadian cylinder seal. Reprinted from Selz 1983, Taf. 46. .................... 290 Figure 6: Drawing of an Egyptian wall painting, tomb of Rekhmire (TT 100), Sheikh Abd el-Gurna, Thebes, ca. 1400 BCE. Reprinted from Dentzer 1982, Fig. 21.......................... 290 Figure 7: Section of Egyptian wall painting depicting women at a banquet seated on the ground, tomb of Rekhmire (TT 100), Sheikh Abd el-Gurna, Thebes, ca. 1400 BCE. Reprinted from Lange and Hirmer, Taf. 21. ....................................................................... 290 Figure 8: Funerary stele from Tell el-Amarna depicting a Syrian mercenary and his wife (Berlin 14122). Reprinted from Dentzer 1982, Fig. 22. ..................................................... 290 Figure 9: Egyptian painting on ostrakon, a cat serves a mouse a meal of poultry. Reprinted from Brunner-Traut 1956, Taf. 34, 96. ............................................................................... 291 Figure 10: Egyptian painting on ostrakon, a bird and a cat sit for dinner together. Reprinted from Brunner-Traut 1956, Taf. 2, 94. ................................................................................. 291 xi  Figure 11: Drawing of ivory plaque from Megiddo, 13th-12th century BCE. Reprinted from faculty website of Bruce K. Satterfield, Brigham Young University, Accessed on 19 March 2012. .............................................................................................................. 291 Figure 12: Drawing of ivory plaque from Megiddo, one of a set of four panels, 13th-12th century BCE. Reprinted from Ziffer 2005, Fig. 22. ........................................................... 291 Figure 13: Ahiram sarcophagus from Byblos, 13th-12th century BCE. Reprinted from Encyclopædia Britannica, Accessed on 20 March 2012. 291 Figure 14: Orthostat relief from the city wall at Alaca Höyük. Reprinted from Akurgal 1961, Fig. 93. ...................................................................................................................... 291 Figure 15: A royal couple banqueting in the company of a child from Maraş. Reprinted from Orthmann 1971, Maraş C/1. ...................................................................................... 291 Figure 16: Drawing of an LMI fresco from Ayia Irini on Kea. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 9. ........................................................................................................................ 291 Figure 17: Drawing of an LMI fresco from Tylissos on Crete. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 8.. ....................................................................................................................... 292 Figure 18: Drawing of a LHIII fresco from Pylos, after Palace of Nestor II. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 10. ......................................................................................................... 292 Figure 19: Campstool Fresco from Knossos. Reprinted from Argusvlinder art weblog,, which graciously made available online an image of the fragments abstracted from their restoration. Accessed 20 March 2012. ................................................................................................................................... 292 xii  Figure 20: Drawing of a portion of the LHIII Pylos Megaron Fresco. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 13. ......................................................................................................... 292 Figure 21: LHIII engraved gold signet-ring from Tiryns. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 16. ....................................................................................................................................... 292 Figure 22: A drawing of a LHIII Mycenaean pictorial krater from Tiryns. Reprinted from Wright 2004, Fig. 17. ......................................................................................................... 292 Figure 23: Old Syrian ritual basin from Ebla. Reprinted from Dentzer 1982, Fig. 25...... 292 Figure 24: Ashurbanipal’s banquet relief, ca. 650 BCE, from Room S of the North Palace at Nineveh. London, British Museum 124920. Reprinted from Dentzer 1982. ................. 292 Figure 25: North Syrian-style silver bowl from Kourion with Paphian Cypriot Syllabic inscription (Greek), second half of 8th-early 7th century BCE. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 74.51.4557. Reprinted from Karageorghis 1999. .................................... 293 Figure 26: Phoenician-style silver bowl from Cyprus, ca. late 8th-early 7th century. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 74.51.4555. Reprinted from Culican 1982. ............. 293 Figure 27: Drawing of MMA 74.51.4555 by Culican 1982. ............................................. 293 Figure 28: Drawing of Phoenician-style bronze bowl from Salamis, ca. mid-7th century BCE. London, British Museum 1892/5-19/1. Reprinted from Markoe 1985..................... 293 Figure 29: Fragment of miniature bronze votive shield from the Idaean cave, mid-8th century BCE. Athens, National Museum 11764.Ia. Reprinted from Kunze 1931, 71 bis.. 293 Figure 30: Drawing of a fragment of a miniature bronze votive shield from the Idaean cave, mid-8th century BCE. Heraklion Museum No Inv. Nr. Reprinted from Matthӓus 1999-2000. .......................................................................................................................... 293 xiii  Figure 31: Photograph of a fragment of a miniature bronze votive shield from the Idaean cave, mid-8th century BCE. Heraklion Museum No Inv. Nr. Photo courtesy of Hartmut Matthäus, pers. comm., 14.05.2014. ................................................................................... 293 Figure 32: Drawing of the grave stele of Neo-Hittite Prince Panyunis from Kululu, eastern Anatolia, mid-8th century BCE. Kayseri Museum. Reprinted from Accessed on 21 March 2012. ........................ 294 Figure 33: Ashurbanipal’s banquet relief in context with the rest of the wall relief. London, British Museum. Reprinted from Albenda 1976. ............................................................... 294 Figure 34: Assyrian relief showing tribute received from Phoenicia, ca. 700. Reprinted from Reade 1995, Figure 18. .............................................................................................. 294 Figure 35: Drawing by Rudiger Splitter of a hypothetical reconstruction of the larnax of Kypselos. Reprinted from Splitter 2000. ............................................................................ 294 Figure 36: The Eurytios krater, ca. 610 BCE. Paris, Louvre E 635. Reprinted from Payne 1931, Pl. 27. ........................................................................................................................ 294 Figure 37: Detail of Eurytios krater: butchers prepare meat behind the reclining Heracles. Image courtesy of Annette Rathje, pers. comm., 02.09.2013............................................. 294 Figure 38: Middle Corinthian column krater, ca. 595-570 BCE. Paris, Louvre E 634. Reprinted from Schӓfer 1997, Taf. 3-1............................................................................... 294 Figure 39: Middle Corinthian column krater by the Athana Painter, ca. 595-570 BCE. Paris, Louvre E 629. Reprinted from Dentzer 1982. .......................................................... 294 Figure 40: A fragmentary urn lid, ca. 630-620 BCE, from Tolle. Reprinted from Rathje 2013, Figure 44.1. ............................................................................................................... 294 xiv  Figure 41: A portion of the Murlo Frieze, ca. 600-575 BCE. Murlo, Antiquarium Comunale. Reprinted from Stopponi 1985, Tav. 3-407. .................................................... 295 Figure 42: Terracotta depicting reclined banqueting from Castellazzo di Poggioreale, Sicily, late-6th century BCE. Museo Archeologico Regionale di Palermo, 21920/2. Reprinted from Gasparri 2009, Fig. 3................................................................................. 295 Figure 43: Attic red-figure volute krater, late-6th century BCE, found at Morgantina (Cittadella). Reprinted from Stillwell 1959, Fig. 24........................................................... 295 Figure 44: Locations of evidence of reclined banqueting in the Mediterranean with dates in centuries BCE. .................................................................................................................... 295 Figure 45: Painting from Tomba della Scrofa Nera, Tarquinia, first quarter of 5th century BCE. Reprinted from Moretti 1974, Fig. 65....................................................................... 296 Figure 46: Attic black figure neck amphora by the Rycroft Painter, Toledo 1972.54, ca. 520-510 BCE, depicting the ransom of Hector with Achilles reclining. Reprinted from Accessed on 8 August 2013. .............................................................................................. 296 Figure 47: The Astarita krater in the Vatican, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco I, ca. 560 BCE. Menelaus, Odysseus, and Talthybius are greeted by the family of Antenor. Reprinted from Accessed on 31 July 2013. ............................................................................................................................................ 296  xv  List of Abbreviatons AA  Archäologischer Anzeiger AJA  American Journal of Archaeology AJP  American Journal of Philology BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research BSA  Annual of the British School at Athens CP  Classical Philology EBA  Early Bronze Age (3000-2000 BCE) EG  Early Geometric Period (900-800 BCE) EIA  Early Iron Age (1100-900 BCE) IA  Iron Age (1100-750 BCE) JDAI  Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts LBA  Late Bronze Age (1700-1100 BCE) LC  Late Cypriot Period (1650-1050 BCE) LG  Late Geometric Period (730-700 BCE) LH  Late Helladic Period (1700-1100 BCE) LM  Late Minoan Period (1700-1100 BCE) MBA  Middle Bronze Age (2000-1700 BCE) MDAI(R) Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Romische Abteilung MG  Middle Geometric Period (800-730 BCE) MM  Middle Minoan Period (2000-1700 BCE) MMJ  Metropolitan Museum Journal xvi  NRSV New Revised Standard Version Bible Translation Committee. (1989). The Holy Bible: Containing the Old and New Testaments with the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical books. New York: Oxford University Press. OJA Oxford Journal of Archaeology OpArch Opuscula Archaeologica PG Protogeometric Period (1100-900 BCE) RStF Revista di Studi Fenici ThesCRA Fondation pour le Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae. (2004). Thesaurus Cultus et Rituum Antiquorum (Vol. 2). Los Angeles: Getty Publications. ZPE Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik  xvii  Acknowledgements   Many individuals and institutions have helped me in the process of researching and writing this dissertation. I would like to thank the department of Classical, Near Eastern, and Religious Studies at The University of British Columbia for selecting me as recipient of several competitive maintenance and travel grants, and for providing an intellectual environment that encourages interdisciplinary work; it was an excellent place to study Classics and Near Eastern Studies together. I would like to thank the members of the supervisory committee, Paul Mosca, Michael Griffin, and Franco De Angelis, for their dedication and professionalism during my candidacy, and for their comments on earlier drafts. I thank the supervisor of this thesis, Franco De Angelis, for his guidance and support during my candidacy, for his advice in the years preceding as I navigated the requirements of the Ph.D., and for being a generous adviser in all my academic affairs for the past five years. The Deutscher Akademischer Austausch Dienst (DAAD) deserves thanks for funding an academic year at FAU Erlangen-Nuremberg, where my faculty sponsor Hartmut Matthäus was very generous with his time and expertise, as he continues to be. I would like to thank those scholars who have been willing to offer comments on portions of the thesis: Christoph Ulf, Erich Kistler, Annette Rathje, Zinon Papakonstantinou, and Ehud Ben-Zvi. Finally, I would like to thank my parents for their constant support, and my wife, Ava, for providing the conditions necessary for the completion of this project. xviii  Dedication  For my parents, who instilled in me a love of the humanities and of research.   1  Introduction Defining Terms  Multiculturalism and Culture The concept ‘multiculturalism’ has sustained recent assaults on its reputation, along with the related adjective ‘multicultural.’ In 2010, German Chancellor Angela Merkel stated that multiculturalism as a domestic policy was a failure in Germany,1 and the Right-wing writer Mark Steyn has adapted the terms to invective; people he calls “multiculti” dominate North American Centre-Left politics and society.2 In the field of ancient history the concept has been repudiated by major figures in the study of ancient law, Raymond Westbrook and Edward Cohen, who dismiss multiculturalism’s relevance to the Amarna Period from a profoundly American, almost inside-the-beltway perspective, in favour of the term ‘polycultural.’ ‘Polycultural’ has not, however, attained currency. Their insistence that multiculturalism is primarily relevant to “the tolerance of minority cultures by a dominant culture” (Cohen and Westbrook 2000, 10) misrepresents the goals of multicultural policies in modern states. ‘Multicultural’ is the unmarked adjective for the coexistence of individuals from more than one culture in a single state, city, institution, or event. It is the coexistence of Greek-speakers and non-Greek-speakers at commensal events that is the subject of this dissertation, and to refer to such events as multicultural banquets or multicultural feasts is, in fact, the clearest way to express my subject in English. Rejecting the m-word in favour of                                                  1 Der Spiegel Online, “Lob und Empörung: Merkels Multikulti-Absage sorgt für weltweites Aufsehen” 19.10.2010. 2 Mark Steyn, “I’m with the ‘intolerant’ Quebecers” Maclean’s Online, 25.3.2010. 2  ‘polycultural’ because of the former’s modern political associations artificially reduces the semantic range of ‘multicultural’ to the referents which the authors find objectionable from their perspective, belonging to a culture that has rejected the modern political policies associated with multiculturalism. They also seemed to have missed the point of the modern policies; in addressing the failure of multiculturalism in Germany, Merkel is not saying that Germany’s dominant culture failed to tolerate minority cultures. She is saying that the dominant culture failed to grant full membership in the society to minority cultures. The goal was to allow “different cultures [to] coexist on equal terms” (Cohen and Westbrook 2000, 10) but that goal was not achieved. ‘Multicultural’ clearly denotes the coexistence of a plurality of cultures or peoples, and my research proves that speakers of Greek in the Archaic Period (750-490) had opportunities to witness royal banqueting practices among West Semitic populations (Phoenician, Syrian, Samarian, Israelite, Judahite, etc.), and when they thought of intercultural communication for any purpose, the primary social context of this interaction is a banquet. Such events are best described as multicultural banquets.  Anthropologically, from both etic and emic perspectives, multicultural banqueting played a role in the development of Greek society in the Archaic period. The research questions addressed here are formulated from an etic perspective related to contemporary scholarly concerns around cultural contact, cultural exchange, and pluralism. Chapters 1 and 2 examine the ancient Mediterranean in the Late Bronze Age (1700-1100), Iron Age (1100-750), and Archaic period (750-490), addressing the evidence for multicultural banqueting from an etic perspective. Chapters 3 and 4 pivot the analytical eye towards the internal workings of Archaic Greek culture as expressed in their mythological traditons, and analyze multicultural banquets from the emic perspective of Homeric epic. 3   In using the term multicultural, the root word must be addressed. ‘Culture’ is the result of efforts of a definable, if necessarily penetrable, group of people to manipulate and comprehend the world. I follow Herder in defining culture as “all creative, human enterprises [including] art, industry, commerce, science, political institutions and literature, as well as ideas, beliefs, customs, and myths” (Spencer 2007, 83). If politics are the dynamics of power in a society, political culture is the mental parameters under which the political players labour, the semiotic networks engaged by their words and actions, and the common products of these efforts, like speeches, photo-ops, etc. Since these mental parameters and products are idiosyncratic indices of the time and place of their production, ‘culture’ expands to denote a particular population at a particular time bound by ties of language and society. Since intelligibility is central to cultural participation, language is paramount in determining the boundaries between one culture and another. While there certainly can be multiple cultures within a group of peoples who share a mother tongue, the reverse is not true; there can be no single culture among those who cannot verbally communicate, who speak different mother tongues, and have achieved no bilingualism through which they might culturally engage another group. If Greeks were able to organize social events with non-Greeks, we must assume that on every occasion at least one member of one of these groups had achieved limited competence in the language of the other. Without this, there can be no intercultural exchange of practices or ideas. Banquet In this dissertation ‘banquet’ is used for a special meal, not the basic act of food or drink consumption, but an event that is marked as special in some way, such as its 4  ceremonial quality, the participants being of the highest rank in society, elaborate religious rituals accompanying the proceedings, or the meal occurring on a special occasion. It is thus a synonym of ‘feast,’ and ‘banqueting’ a synonym of ‘feasting.’ I adopt the definition of feasts presented by Michael Dietler and Brian Hayden, which are “events essentially constituted by the communal consumption of food and/or drink [distinct] from both everyday domestic meals and from the simple exchange of food without communal consumption” (Dietler and Hayden 2001, 3). Communities, large and small, can be constituted in a variety of ways, ranging from the entire community to some subset of members within it.  Development This study opens up a field for analysis based on social practices that are in evidence primarily in works of the Archaic Greek imagination: texts and images. The evidence is of an idealized nature because these texts and images purport to tell of long ago, legendary heroes and/or the gods. In Homeric texts and the Epic Cycle, I observe that several meetings between Achaeans and non-Achaeans occur in a banqueting context. Besides confrontation in battle, banqueting is the primary mode of cultural contact in Iliad; banqueting stands unchallenged as the primary mode of cultural contact in Odyssey. Corinthian vase painting of the early sixth century presents male and female banqueters reclining on couches, a practice that indicates Greek knowledge of Samarian, Phoenician, Assyrian, or possibly Lydian royal banqueting practice of the first half of the first millennium BCE.  5  I argue that Greek-speakers, abroad or on Mediterranean islands, in the eighth or early seventh century witnessed one or more of these Near Eastern royal banquets. Through an effect identified by Mary Helms (1988, 262-4), and productively applied to the ancient Mediterranean by several scholars (Gunter 2009, 12), these Greek-speakers replicated aspects of the Near Eastern practice in their home communities in pursuit of symbolic capital; by acquiring aspects of an external system of status marking (Near Eastern royal banqueting) they wished to increase their prestige at home by further differentiating their habits from those of their countrymen. In my application of Helms’ theory, I build on conclusions drawn by Alain Duplouy, that from the tenth to the fifth centuries BCE, Greeks used goods of Near Eastern origin to express and contest their membership in elite social groups (2006, 166, 178), and that part of the symbolic capital of these objects was that they were evidence of the international relationships necessary for their acquisition (2006, 177). In this formulation, travel and international relationships accrue a symbolic capital of their own (Duplouy 2006, 172). It is implicit in Duplouy’s conclusions that it was not only membership in the elite groups of their home communities that people desired, but also recognition as being elite by foreigners, creating what Jonathan Hall calls the “supraregional and transethnic elite” (2009, 613). Applying Helms’ theory to the data of Iron Age and Archaic Mediterranean, I build on Duplouy’s work with the argument that it was not only Near Eastern goods and the contacts they presuppose that were attractive to aggrandizing Greek elites, but many forms of foreign knowledge, practices, and lifestyles. It was not primarily for the acquisition of Near Eastern goods that Greek-speakers sought relationships with non-Greeks, but for the acquisition of esoteric knowledge that could be used to attain or reaffirm elite status both at home and internationally. This process thus gave rise to the 6  Greek symposion, and the symposion bears some marks of its Near Eastern relations in its imaginings of foreign lands and fetishization of foreign performers. In opening this field I do not wish to overstate what the evidence indicates; it is evidence for the apparatus of ideals through which some ancient Greeks viewed their world. Before the Classical period, we do not have a reliable account of what a Greek banquet or a multicultural banquet should have been like. Evidence of the ideals and of the imagination of Archaic Greeks can go a long way towards understanding the sociocultural developments of their times. By a number of logical connections I prove that banqueting with “the other” was a common means of conducting diplomacy, managing relations, and negotiating a variety of matters including trade in historical Archaic Greece. What my literary evidence demonstrates, however, is that Archaic Greeks imagined that the banquet was an appropriate context in which to encounter and negotiate with non-Greeks. The iconographical evidence demonstrates that this must have been the case on at least a few occasions. This idealized view of cultural contact at the banquet is a key to understanding the sociocultural developments of Archaic Greece. Intercultural exchange (particularly in the fields of poetry and religion), imported goods, and knowledge of lands inhabited by non-Greeks increased dramatically from the eighth to the sixth century. That the Greeks of the eighth and seventh centuries (sc. the authors and audience of “Homer”) wished to represent cultural contact, which was ever more frequent in their lives, occurring at banquets in their traditional literature, must bear some relationship to the increasing levels of foreign contact in Archaic Greek communities. At the least we can say that this historical reality generated a great interest in the modes and processes of cultural contact, and Greek poets and thinkers responded by establishing an ideal of peaceful contact at a sacrificial banquet. When 7  relations were not peaceful, we get presentations of banquets gone horribly wrong, marred by violence, death, and cannibalism. My evidence therefore coalesces in an argument about the thought-world (Hobden 2013, 69; Skinner 2012, 17; Vlassopoulos 2007, 236) of Greek-speakers in the eighth, seventh, and sixth centuries BCE, as the profound developments in state formation, religious practices, trade, literature, and social practices that mark the Archaic period took place. This research partly explains the thought-world and worldview related to these developments.  Archaic   The evidence for this study is limited by the end of the late Archaic in 492 BCE with the beginning of the Persian Wars. It focuses on literary and archaeological evidence securely dated between the beginning of the eighth and the beginning of the fifth centuries BCE. I encompass these data with the terms ‘Archaic’ and ‘Archaic period’ by which I mean generally the period between the Greek adaptation of the Phoenician alphabet with a terminus ante quem of 735 BCE and the beginning of the Persian Wars, often stated in this text to be 750-490 BCE. The target relevance of all my arguments is the literature and society of Greek-speakers and Greek states in Archaic period, but, to understand the background to historical events and to establish historical patterns, I investigate evidence for multicultural banqueting in the Iron Age (IA, 1100-750 BCE) and the Late Bronze Age (LBA, 1700-1100 BCE). ‘Archaic Greece’ technically refers to the earliest period of Greek literature (735-492), and while this time period is still in the Iron Age in Mediterranean archaeology, it is to literature and the sociocultural history around its production that this 8  dissertation is addressed. I investigate modes of contact in order to explain how West Semitic ideas, poetics, and lifestyles were adapted by Greek-speakers in the Archaic period, with attendant effects on literature and sociocultural development.  Greek Society  All studies of ‘Archaic Greece’ involve the combination of diverse data that originates in different areas of the Greek-speaking world. Drawing conclusions from it about a singular entity, here ‘Greek society,’ renders that entity somewhat artificial since there is no singular Greek society in the Archaic period; there is only the diverse group of Greek-speaking communities spread from Tell Sukas, Naucratis, and Cyrene in the South and East, along the Anatolian coast from Cilicia to Ionia, througout the Balkan peninsula, in southern Italy, and on the Mediterranean islands of Pithekoussai, Sicily, Crete, and Cyprus. It is quite a diverse group, but unified by a shared language. Therefore, my analysis of a large data set derived from many different Archaic Greek communities draws conclusions about that unity. I am making an argument about the totality of Greek-speakers in the Archaic Mediterranean and I call this collectivity ‘Greek Society.’ This target relevance is constituted from an etic perspective since Greek-speakers did not develop a Panhellenic consciousness until the sixth century (Hall 2002, 130-4; cf. Ross 2005, an argument for Panhellenic consciousness in the Iliad), a very important development from an emic perspective. In the eighth and seventh centuries there is little evidence that Greeks conceived of the body of Greek-speakers in the Mediterranean as a unity. This does not preclude a scholarly study of the unity of Greek-speakers in the eighth and seventh centuries. It is a 9  unity constituted by external analytical criteria, i.e. the Greek language, and not by any detectable notion of ethnicity or identity endemic to any one Greek population, or to them all collectively. Like all research questions, this one is constituted from an etic perspective to answer questions of interest to modern scholars; it makes no claim in the first place that the ancient Greeks were interested in this question. Identity in the Archaic Mediterranean is complex, and Greek-speakers were as likely to see themselves as participants in some shared community with native Phoenician- or Aramaean-speakers, a community based on elite or royal status, as they were to see themselves as bound in a community with other Greek-speakers. From our modern perspective, culture must be bound with language, but the Ancient Greeks did not see it that way. The Archaic Greeks show a distinct lack of concern for linguistic difference; problems of language difference are almost never discussed before Herodotus, and hardly at all in his expansive text (examples addressed by Munson 2005). This disjunction between what we know must have been the case—expanding contact with non-Greek-speaking groups—and the almost total lack of concern for mutual intelligibility in Archaic Greek texts will continue to puzzle scholars attuned to this question for a long time to come (Ross 2005; Bachvarova 2008; cf. little attention to the Archaic period in Mullen and James 2012, or in Adams, Janse, and Swain 2002).  History of Scholarship on Modes of Cultural Contact In the academic discipline known as Classics or philology, as old as Western science, medicine, or history, the idea that “The Greeks,” or Greek-speaking peoples, were in cultural contact with “Others,” or non-Greek-speaking peoples is not controversial. No one, from the 10  beginning of the discipline until today, has ever denied that Greek peoples in the Archaic period had dealings with those who spoke different languages, worshipped different gods, and had different ways of life. The controversy arises when scholars try to demonstrate who exactly had these contacts, how such contacts were carried out, and what were their effects. The most influential theory about cultural contact in the Archaic period today is that of Walter Burkert (1992 [1984]), who envisions itinerant specialists or skilled workers moving from their home communities in the Near East to take on part-time or permanent work in areas dominated by Greek-speakers. It is these individuals and those they come in contact with who are the conduits of various Near Eastern cultural characteristics that we find in abundance in our earliest evidence of literate, historical Greek civilization. Burkert’s theory goes some distance in answering the question of who was involved in these contacts, i.e. who were the conduits of culture. The approach I have developed in this dissertation addresses the question of how such contacts took place, i.e. what social, economic, or political practices negotiated the contact between Greek-speakers and non-Greek-speakers in the Mediterranean in the crucial time period between 1000-500 BCE, between the destruction of Late Bronze Age civilization in the Balkan peninsula and the Persian Wars.  The subject of how Greek-speakers and non-Greek-speakers came into contact and interacted can be approached from a number of perspectives that amount to macroanalysis. Analyzing such contact under the aegis of religion (Demetriou 2012), economics (Horden and Purcell 2000), or colonization is useful and produces the general results to which macroanalysis is prone. I have chosen to begin with the microanalysis of a particular social practice which was identified by ancient Greeks as one that facilitated contact between them and non-Greeks, without, in the first place, associating this social practice with any broad 11  historical development in the Mediterranean, such as religious pilgrimages, travel, trade, or colonial enterprise. I hope therefore to avoid prejudicing my results or presenting multicultural interaction as being primarily associated with religion, trade, colonization, or mobility. Intercultural contact in human history is everywhere, and I do not wish to misrepresent the phenomenon by choosing an overarching cause a priori. In doing so, my theory does not compete directly with Burkert’s. I think that, in the wake of Burkert’s work, theories of how are more valuable than theories of who. My theory directly competes with those who see intermarriage as the prime driver of cultural exchange, such as Margalit Finkelberg (2005), Barry Powell (2002) and Martin West (1997), and these theories will be addressed in the appropriate place in the history of scholarship. The history of scholarship on this question of how Greeks and non-Greeks came into contact and negotiated that contact begins in the Enlightenment, with the philosophies of history written by Voltaire (1829 [1765]) and Herder (2002 [1774])—Herder’s being explicitly a response to Voltaire’s. The examination of these questions does not begin there, and this dissertation has thematic similarities with the work of Herodotus, with Thucydides’ Archaeology, and even with the Homeric poems. Cultural contact was of interest to many ancient Greek writers in all genres. Ancient literature bears witness to a Greek culture in continuous engagement with others in the Mediterranean, real and imaginary (Skinner 2012, 14-5; Gruen 2011, 5). Thus, cultural contact was a concern of the first historians, and Greco-Roman historians never abandoned the interest in ethnography, other cultures, and how the Greeks and Romans interacted with them; indeed, the literary genre of history developed out of the preexisting genre of ethnography (Skinner 2012, 4). Part of the argument of this dissertation is that Homer offers views about how Greeks (Achaeans) interacted with non-12  Greeks (Trojans, etc.), that Homer constitutes evidence for how Archaic Greeks imagined interacting with non-Greeks, and so an analysis of the Homeric perspective on the question is postponed until Chapter 3. Following Bernal in the only way one can (see Hartog 2001), I agree that ancient ideas of history and cultures (Bernal’s “Ancient Model”) have been suppressed under the weight of a racist Enlightenment and imperialist certitude; however, the disciplines to which this dissertation is a contribution (philology, history, anthropology) were reoriented or invented in the nineteenth century (De Angelis 1998, 539) on the basis of intellectual developments of the Enlightenment and Romantic periods (such as nationalism), and nothing earlier is cited as a scholarly authority. It is possible to research and assess the scholarly account of cultural contact from antiquity to the present (beginning with the rise of philosophy in Ionia), but that is a dissertation in itself. The disciplines of philology, history, and anthropology addressed by this dissertation developed in the Enlightenment through the nineteenth century, and this modern history of scholarship is my concern here. Beginning with the Enlightenment, I proceed through the nineteenth century with the aid of twentieth-century intellectual historians such as Ian MacGregor Morris (2008), François Hartog (2001), and Martin Bernal (1987). The topic of cultural contact has been popular since the 1980s, and many scholars offered their opinions and analysis. Our sources for the question therefore increase rapidly after the middle of the twentieth century. We begin with Voltaire and Herder in the late eighteenth century, and proceed through the perspectives of George Grote and Victor Bérard, which bring us to the fin de siècle. In the twentieth century we acknowledge two traditions. The first is less influential, stemming from Bérard, insisting on an interdisciplinarity between Classics and Near Eastern Studies, represented in the 1960s by Cyrus Gordon. The second follows in the Athenocentric 13  tradition of Grote, dominant in Anglo-American scholarship, and represented in the 1950s by T.J. Dunbabin. We then have the explosion of interest in the subject in the 1980s following the publications of Walter Burkert (1992 [1984]) and Martin Bernal (1987), and the subject is approached from the fields of linguistics, philology, anthropology, and archaeology as represented by the work of Oswyn Murray (1990, 1994), Margalit Finkelberg (2005), Barry Powell (2002), François Hartog (2001), Bruce Louden (1999, 2006, 2011), Erich Kistler (1998), Albert Nijboer (2013) and Tamar Hodos (2006, 2009). Rather than addressing the contemporary scholars individually, I discuss the main lines of argument coexisting in today’s scholarship. Voltaire’s Philosophy of History offered an account of human history that constructed unbridgeable distances between the various “species” of humanity. The Whites, his people, were utterly different from the other races. It is possible that members of the different species mate, but the result is akin to that of a horse and an ass—a “spurious” mulatto who, like a mule, is not fertile (1829, 6-10). With these vast distinctions in mind, Voltaire viewed commonality in the beliefs and practices among ancient peoples as the result of independent developments; humans around the world have similar practices because of the similarity of their natures, not because the one learned from the other (1829, 28-9). The radical isolation he constructs for the peoples of antiquity is tempered by two goals. In the first place he wishes to deny any authority or originality to the Jewish people, so influential on Europe’s Christianity, and thus, in this special case, he presents the Jews as profoundly influenced by the other people of the Near East, such that they had no name, no thought, no beliefs or arts before they were granted them by the Chaldeans and the Egyptians; moreover, they could have taught nothing to the Greeks (1829, 297-300). 14  Secondly, Voltaire’s rationalism does not permit him to ignore the fact of the Greek adaptation of the Phoenician alphabet. In this case, since the boundaries between these peoples have been irrevocably bridged by literacy, his strategy is to portray the Phoenicians as mere merchants, who, once met by the Greeks, were outdone by them in every regard. The Greeks received but little from the Phoenicians before they became the instructor of the Near East, teaching the Egyptians sculpture, and bestowing excellent arts on their neighbours (1829, 143). This capacity for high art is not something that they learned from another civilization but is the result of the special quality of their physical bodies; the Greeks possessed remarkable organs prone to art. With Voltaire we find the beginning of a hermeneutical position vis-à-vis cultural similarity. It is still common today to hear objections to arguments about cultural exchange (sc. the “diffusion” of the 20th century) based on the idea that it is really the similarity of the human mind that causes confluence of cultural traits and practices. Voltaire’s view permits ancient populations to be presented, if one so desires, as pure and unadulterated by admixture, since all commonality can be attributed to a common human nature. Opposed to this view are the ideas of pluralism, multiculturalism, and hybridity that have gained in popularity since the 1960s. The notion of genetic and cultural purity in human populations is now a merely ideological position, since global studies of human genomics bear witness to major events of population mixing (Hellenthal et al. 2014),3 anthropology is not aware of absolutely isolated populations, and archaeology has evidence for long-distance exchange                                                  3 See results of recent work in this area here: and  15  beginning in the Palaeolithic period. Expressed simply, the borders of one human community are the borders of another, and in the borderlands first, contact provides outside stimulus to new ideas and practices, which may become popular in the centre of one of the cultures in contact. On the other hand, through mechanisms of elite exchange, the centres of populations may be in contact in the absence of contact on the peripheries. Beyond the necessity of physical presence in the same place of different cultural groups due to proximity or elite relations, we can observe that monolingualism is a minority trait among humans; it is much more common to speak two or three languages. I share the view expressed by The New Yorker’s Adam Gopnik in a review of Eric Cline’s 2014 book 1177 B.C.: The Year Civilization Collapsed, that "[t]he globalized world—that is, one where cosmopolitan permeability of peoples is the rule, rather than the special exception—seems the old and hardy fact about human existence, while the idea of the walled-off, unique nation, with its singular spirit, is the newcomer". The idea that ancient cultures were separate and pure, utterly unmixed in a parochial golden age is indeed a neophyte idea, developed by Voltaire and his like in the Enlightenment, and elaborated in the colonial era (De Angelis 1998, 544). In the minds of scholars from the eighteenth to the twentieth centuries, conditioned by their times, this idea replaced the Ancient Model which saw the ancient Greeks self-consciously link their civilization to Egypt (Cecrops, Danaus, Aegyptos), Phoenicia (Cadmus, Europa), and Lydia (Dionysus) because these recognizably richer and sometimes older civilizations lent prestige to Greek origins in the minds of Greeks (Gruen 2011, 5). Such admixture had to be expunged from ancient Greece by modern Europeans for exactly the opposite reason—the civilizations of Africa and the East were not unequivocally prestigious in modern Europe. 16  There is thus a great dissonance between Voltaire’s positions and what has been demonstrated by the physical and human sciences in the last two hundred and fifty years. One cannot characterize all Enlightenment thinking on these subjects as allied with Voltiare, and in Herder’s response to Voltaire’s Philosophy of History (Forster 2002, 272, n.1), entitled This, too, a Philosophy of History (Herder 2002 [1774]), he presents views that intuited many subsequent developments in the physical and human sciences; indeed, his thought is regarded as foundational to the study of history, anthropology (especially cultural anthropology), and natural history (Zammito, Menges, Menze 2010, 662, 664). Herder regarded humanity and human achievement as pluralistic (Spencer 2007, 82-3); Europe and the White European were not the measure and paradigm of human culture and development (Spencer 2007, 85). Herder asked: “Is not the good dispersed all over the earth? […] Why should the western extremity of our Northern Hemisphere alone be the home of civilization” (Herder 1997, 41, 47). Specifically related to cultural contact, Herder regarded all human history as a process of later cultures building on the achievements of earlier ones. There is no radical division between human populations in Herder’s thought, but each civilization learns from its older neighbors, combines this learning with innovation and its own genius, hence causing the historical developments evident in the remains of antiquity. A characteristic passage relevant to the civilizations studied here is as follows (Herder 2002, 286-9, italics removed): The [Greek] form of government—was it not necessary that it had swung its course down from Oriental patriarchal despotism through Egyptian land guilds and Phoenician semi-aristocracies before there could occur the beautiful idea of a republic in the Greek sense, “obedience paired with freedom, and wrapped about with the name of fatherland”? […] Its name “Greek freedom”! Ethics had to have 17  become gentler from Oriental father-sense and Egyptian daylabourer-sense through Phoenician travel-cleverness—and behold!, the new beautiful bloom unfolded. […Greece was] a true intermediate land in culture in which from two ends everything flowed together which they so easily and nobly altered! The beautiful bride was served by two boys on the right and the left, all she did was to idealize beautifully—precisely the mixture of Phoenician and Egyptian manners of thought, each of which took away from the other its national aspect and its jagged stubborn idiosyncrasy, formed the head for the ideal, for freedom. […] That Greece received seeds of culture, language, arts, and sciences from somewhere else is, it seems to me, undeniable, and it can be clearly shown in several cases: sculpture, architecture, mythology, literature. But that the Greeks as good as did not receive all this, that they equipped it with a quite new nature, that in each kind the “beautiful” in the real sense of the word is quite certainly their work—this, I believe, becomes just as certain from a little continuation of these ideas. Nothing Oriental, Phoenician, or Egyptian retained its nature any longer; it became Greek, and in many respects the Greeks were almost too much originals who clothed or re-clothed everything in accordance with their own nature. From the greatest invention and the most important story down to word and sign—Everything is full of this; it is similarly the case from step to step with all nations—whoever still wants to build a system or quarrel about a name, let him quarrel! We can see from Herder’s enthusiastic intuitions about cultural connectivity in the progress of history that a pluralism valuing human diversity arose in the Enlightenment, but it was decidedly not this perspective that was adopted by the Classical scholarship immediately subsequent. Those working on cultural contact and exchange in antiquity thus have an intellectual terminus post quem for their subject in Herder’s philosophy, as do all who consider themselves cultural historians (Herder 2002, xxv).4 Let us contrast the positions of Voltaire on these same Greeks, Egyptians, and Phoenicians (Voltaire 1829, 140-141):                                                  4 I thank Marcel Detienne for pointing out to me some years ago that my own enthusiastic intuitions about ancient cultural contact went back to Herder. 18  The Athenians, scattered over a barren and unfruitful country, inform us, that an Egyptian, named Cecrops, exiled from his own country, gave them their first institutions. This appears rather surprising, as the Egyptians were not navigators. But, it is possible, that the Phoenicians, who had intercourse with all nations, may have brought this Cecrops into Attica. It is very certain, that the Greeks did not adopt the Egyptian letters; for there is not the least resemblance between them. The Phoenicians brought them their first alphabet which, then, consisted of only sixteen characters; which are, evidently, the same. To these, the Phoenicians, subsequently, added eight other letters; which the Greeks likewise adopted. An alphabet may be considered as an incontestable monument, of the country from which a nation has acquired its first learning. It appears still further probable, that the Phoenicians worked the silver mines of Attica; as, they unquestionably did those of Spain. Merchants were the first preceptors of those very Greeks, from whom, so many nations subsequently derived instruction. This people, as barbarous as they were in the days of Ogyges, appeared born with organs more adapted to the cultivation of the fine arts, than all other people. They displayed in their nature, the most refined cunning and acuteness; their language is a proof of it; for, even before they knew how to write, their language was distinguished for a union of the most harmonious consonants and vowels; previously, unknown to all the people of Asia. Voltaire is compelled by the evidence of the alphabet to admit cultural contact between the Greek and Phoenicians, but not between Greeks and Egyptians, and such contact as exists is of a distinctly mercantile or economic nature. Beyond the alphabet, these Greeks received nothing from the Phoenicians, especially since their language (along with their artistic organs) was already qualitatively superior to all those of Asia. While Voltaire is willing to admit cultural contact in some places, it is regularly minimized in considerations of Greece and maximized in considerations of Israel (1829, 297-300). Whatever nods to cultural contact there are rest on a foundation of isolation among ancient peoples and the notion that “nature being every where the same, it is rational and reasonable to suppose, that, in general, 19  mankind have adopted the same truths, and the same errors, relative to those things which most forcibly assail the senses, and strike the imagination” (1829, 28).  A scholarly orientation that only grudgingly admitted a Greek civilization on the receiving end of peaceful and constructive cultural exchange was inherited from Enlightenment writers like Voltaire and dominated the scholarship of the nineteenth century. Although Herder’s pluralist rejoinder was known, it was ignored in favour of monist isolationist theories that were in harmony with the senses of national identity prevailing in Europe at the time: the British, French, and Germans claimed to be the rightful inheritors of the greatness of Greece (De Angelis 1998, 539; van Dommelen 1997, 306), but a Greece unpolluted by any foreign component, be that Asian, African (Bernal 1987), or central Mediterranean (De Angelis 1998, 542). The Europeans saw themselves as the height of civilization (De Angelis 1998, 541) standing in opposition to eastern barbarism and despotism, and to the primitive tribes being discovered all over the globe (De Angelis 1998, 544). The only Greece they could accept was one that likewise stood in opposition to all that Modern Europe opposed—the Jew, the Arab, the Negro, and the Savage. The fictive kinship with ancient Greece that Modern Europe constructed for itself has distorted presentations of ancient history and caused widespread misunderstandings of ancient society from the Enlightenment until today (De Angelis 1998, 541). The debates around Greece’s inclusion in the Eurozone, the position of Classics in today’s university, and the history of Western democracy are all distorted by the imaginary ancient Greece constructed by Europe’s colonial powers and elaborated by the Americans. This imaginary ancient Greece, the one that is fifth-century Athens writ large, expanded in time and space to encompass the area of the nation state of modern Greece from Homer to late antiquity, but not Cyprus, Ionia, or 20  Cyrene. It still dominates today despite much progress towards a demystified Greece in the work of individual scholars. Ancient societies deserve to be treated as foreign to the modern student and as only fragmentarily known, not as one’s own ancestors, in whom we construct aetiologies to fortify our current sociopolitical perspectives (Morris 2008, 264-5).    As the eighteenth gave way to the nineteenth century, the primary proponent of this imaginary Athenocentric ancient Greece was George Grote (Morris 2008, 256, 266), author of A History of Greece, composed in the 1820s and 30s. He was decidedly in line with Voltaire, seeing ancient Greece as isolated from the less prestigious civilizations of the eastern Mediterranean. Where connections had to be made, as with the Phoenicians, Grote took care to construct a dichotomy with his Greeks on one side and the Phoenicians (with the Jews) on the other as dishonest traders, inferior in war, with only itinerant contact with the Greeks (1904, 2: 41-3). Picking up the ancient observation that inland and coastal states have different effects on the character of their populations, Grote wrote of the “occasional preference for extraneous customs” in coastal states (1904, 2: 153), but, in the full accounting of this idea, the extraneous customs Grote identifies are those of other Greek states, not anything from the non-Greek world. The coastal Greek, from Miletus or Phocaea, with his maritime outlook, had “a mind more open to the varieties of Grecian energy and to the refining influences of Grecian civilization” (1904, 2: 154). In Grote’s formulation, coastal Greeks were more open to the ennobling greatness of Greece than those who lived inland. This is not inherently objectionable, but it is also a truism, and conspicuously absent from the formulation is the idea that the coastal maritime Greek community was also more open to influences from non-Greeks, as is in evidence at the Piraeus (Phoenicians) or on Lesbos (Lydians).  21   Grote’s Greeks are allowed to be influenced by Greeks, but all other influences are regarded with that same disdain evident in Voltaire, who saw cultural commonality as the result of common human nature, and Greece’s special culture as a derivative of their unique physiology. For Grote it is geography that gave the Greeks their unique nature: fiercely independent city states always prepared to fend off invasion and “that unborrowed intellectual development for which they stand so conspicuous” were the result of their rough, mountainous, surroundings—the “multitude of insulating boundaries” that characterized Grote’s ancient Greece (1904, 2: 155).   Grote’s influence on the academic discipline of ancient Greek history cannot be overestimated. He established parameters of study that still define the discipline today (Morris 2008, 255). With respect to the mode of cultural contact Grote proposed, whatever contact was allowed was decidedly mercantile. Here Grote and Voltaire argue the same line: the Phoenicians were interested only in trade, honest or dishonest gain, quite like the (modern or Medieval) Jews; their presence in Greek lands was temporary; although they bestowed one very important technology on the illiterate Greeks, the Greeks learned nothing else from them. Insofar as there is a mode of contact discernible in this formulation, it is trade; trade and the profit motive drive cultural contact in the ancient Mediterranean. In this Grote and Voltaire agree, and Herder is of this mind also, calling these Phoenicians “the first trading state, based entirely on trade” (2002, 284). Although Herder allowed a cultural contact that was far more consequential than the others, his notion that Egypt and Phoenicia had “together formed Greece and hence the world beyond it” (2002, 285-6) nevertheless supposes a mode of contact based on the movements of the “deceptive, profit-crazed 22  Phoenicians” (2002, 286). The movement of men is determined by trade, and thus the presence of foreign goods is the corollary of cultural contact.   The ideas that trade drives cultural contact and that foreign goods are primarily evidence for trade are still popular today. Trade as the key mechanism of cultural contact and exchange is the result of a macroanalysis where one attempts to find the impetus for all the travel and contact in evidence in ancient literature and material culture. It is partly dependent on colonial European ideas regarding why people go abroad and the purpose of new settlements (Finley 1976, 174). This theory says very little about how cultural contact took place. The fact that there was trade (exchange of goods) raises several questions. Were these trading ventures prearranged among two or more parties? Were the traders sent somewhere specific once previous arrangements were made with outsiders? Were the traders hosted in foreign kingdoms, or did they go to preexisting emporia to sell their wares? My first response to the notion of trade as mode of contact is to try to answer the question, what are the correquisites of trade? When people come together to trade, what else do they do together which might have permitted the cultural exchange in evidence, such as of the alphabet or religious practices like the burning of incense? Here is the basic fact of my objections to trade as mechanism of cultural contact. While it explains (poorly) the small number of foreign artifacts found in Greek contexts in the eighth century, it does not explain the exchange of the more consequential cultural artefacts like the alphabet, the habit of burning incense in religious ritual, or the habit of reclining at a drinking party that happened in the same foundational period of Archaic Greece. How does the notion of trade account for such things? From a macroeconomic perspective, we know people in the eastern Mediterranean exchanged increasing amounts of goods in the Iron Age and Archaic period. 23  How did they do this? What other things besides trade did these people do together that resulted in these far more consequential exchanges of religious ideas and social practices? Another question follows closely on this one. Are we sure that a trading motive was the primary one that caused cultural contact? Foreign goods are evidence of some form of cultural contact, but they do not demonstrate that trade was the motivation for the contact. What other reasons could people have had to establish such contacts? Especially for the eighth century BCE, the number of foreign objects found in Greek contexts is not great enough to presume that they were the result of trade missions (Strøm 2001, 371; Shanks 1999, 198; Finkelberg 2005, 62; Powell 2002, 46; West 1997, 624). How besides trade might objects move? From these questions the reader can understand that my view of exchange in the Iron Age and Archaic Mediterranean is firmly rooted in the substantivist school of economic exchanges, that sees these exchanges as socially embedded (Duplouy 2006, 171-2; Bauer and Agbe-Davis 2010, 34-7), and does not follow the formalist school that focuses on markets and trade systems (Duplouy 2006, 172; Bauer and Agbe-Davis 2010, 37-8; Wallerstein 1974). Many of the questions above have been raised by scholars throughout the twentieth century, and despite a new consensus emerging that the foreign goods in eighth-century Greek contexts are likely the result of gift exchange between elites (Hodos 2009, 232) or religious dedications, the idea that trade drives cultural contact is still prominent in scholarship today. There seems to be in these theories an a priori assumption that if men did not wish to trade, they would stay home. The notion of symbolic capital (Bourdieu 1984), and moreover the necessity of diplomacy should instruct us that the possible motivations for an elite individual to make contact with his or her foreign peer are very many, and material 24  goods are likely not the most valuable thing that could be obtained by such a venture. Although there is ample evidence that goods were traded between Greeks, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Syrians, Cilicians, Lycians, and Lydians on an increasing scale from the tenth to the sixth century BCE, there is no reason to think that trade is the primary reason cultures are in contact with one another until the scale of the trade become much greater, such as in the late seventh and sixth centuries BCE, but by then, long-standing contacts have already been established. Considering the period when the first poleis were coming into being along with the first colonies, and Greek-speakers were beginning to write down their tradition and occasional literature, there are many reasons besides the exchange of goods that might motivate Greeks to seek contact with non-Greeks. The persistence of trading as a dominant model of cultural contact (along with Burkert’s itinerant specialists) is one of the most salient Enlightenment features of today’s understanding of cultural contact and exchange. Of course, it is also how Herodotus imagined Greeks first interacting with Phoenicians (1.1.2). In the cultural ferment that was fin-de-siècle Europe, the question of Greek contact with non-Greeks was approached from the fresh perspective of Victor Bérard, professor of ancient geography at l’École des Hautes Études. In contrast to Grote he followed the line of thought established by Herder. He presented the Greeks, from the Late Bronze Age to the Archaic period, as being in some sense subjugated to the Egyptians and Phoenicians. In a passage that could have been written yesterday, he outlines his polemic against isolationist scholars (1902, 5): Même quand il est des ressemblances que l'on ne peut nier, on préfère encore n'y voir que des rencontres fortuites et les effets de cette cause, si commode à invoquer, que l'on nomme hasard. Les relations entre Grecs et Sémites, surtout, seront toujours aperçues à travers certains préjugés qui 25  d'avance inclineront les esprits aux affirmations contradictoires. Longtemps encore il se trouvera de vaillants coeurs pour défendre le patrimoine sacré des ancêtres indo-européens et pour repousser toute invasion des influences sémitiques loin de ce domaine grec, citadelle et temple de la culture occidentale.... La seule linguistique n'arriverait pas, je crois, à désarmer ces préjugés.  Using linguistics to combat these prejudiced views, Bérard firmly situates the early Greeks in a world dominated by others. They were a lesser power in the Mediterranean and were therefore in the position of client, vassal, or tributary to greater and older civilizations. Trade determined the movements of the Phoenicians, but the movements of the Greeks were predetermined by the Phoenicians, who subsumed Greek maritime activity under their aegis, just as the Hebrew Bible sees Israelites and Judahites involved in maritime expeditions with the Phoenicians to their colony in Tarshish and elsewhere (1 Kings 10:22, of Hiram and Solomon; 1 Kings 22:49-50, 2 Chronicles 20:35-7, of ninth century Judahite kings). Cultural contact was inevitable in this circumstance, and the modes of contact Bérard imagines are those of sailors of different cultures serving together on merchant ships, with the Phoenicians in the lead (1902, 7, 15). The Greeks must therefore obey, converse with, and learn from their Phoenician leaders. Finding inspiration in the succession of maritime empires Europe had witnessed, he compares the situation of Phoenicians in the Mediterranean to the British in his contemporary world, observing that these “thalassocrats” always make use of the foreigners they dominate (1902, 15). Beyond this model, which is usually called by Bérard clientèle (1902, 5), the ruling thalassocrats are constantly exploiting the human resources of those they dominate, taking women and men as slaves, or hiring them as servants (1902, 367). Bérard spends significant time explaining the various uses foreign women might be put to, as slaves for every purpose, as companions on maritime 26  ventures, and as concubines and nurses at home. His examination of these possibilities prefigures the popularity at the end of the twentieth century of multicultural marriage as a mode of cultural contact. When imagining cultural contact, there is none as intense and sustained as that which occurs in the multicultural household. This intensity is one of the things that makes this model attractive. One can easily imagine in such a situation multilingual children with cultural competence in the cultures of both mother and father. Such households can amply account for the more complex evidence of cultural exchange (alphabet, religious practices) in evidence in Archaic Greece, and this is the mode of contact and exchange favoured by Margalit Finkelberg (situated in the LBA) and Barry Powell (situated in the IA). Like all theories of cultural exchange that produce the profound effects in evidence in Archaic Greece, it is necessary that these marriages occur in the highest echelons of society.  Bérard makes a number of linguistic arguments about connections between Greek and West Semitic (e.g. 1902, 229) that are repeated in a line of scholarly inquiry that spans the twentieth century and tends to be unpopular in Anglo-American and French classical scholarship, but is better respected in Germany and Italy. Cyrus Gordon (1967), Michael Astour (1967), Saul Levin (1995, 2002), John Pairman Brown (1995-), and, with insufficient linguistic rigour, Martin Bernal (1987-) have attempted to bridge the well-patrolled disciplinary boundaries between Classics and Near Eastern Studies; unsuccessful in creating a common interpretive ground, their arguments are more respected by Semitists than they are by Classicists. Martin West attempted to redeem several of these arguments in The East Face of Helicon, often backing off from a conclusion once he had presented all the seductive evidence. The most prolific exponent of this tradition today is Bruce Louden, who, in a 27  series of monographs about Homer (Louden 1999, 2006, 2011), presents evidence for a thoroughgoing Semitic (Ugaritic, Hebrew) complexion of hundreds of narrative episodes. Each of the works in this tradition are remarkably full of detail that varies on the scale of cogency from very significant and capable of demonstrating a close and ongoing relationship between Greek-speakers and the speakers of one or more West Semitic languages to almost irrelevant general similarities that one might also find between the Greeks and native Siberians or Melanesians. It is not worthwhile here to go over what is not useful in these works, but in the next section of this introduction about motivations for this project, I present some of the arguments in this tradition that have stood the test of time, even as they are sometimes ignored and forgotten. They will speak directly to the modes of contact imagined in this tradition.   This line of scholarship, practiced for the most part outside of the universities that dominate classical studies in the Anglo-American world (Harvard, Berkeley, Stanford, Princeton, Yale, Michigan, Texas, Cambridge, Oxford), and often outside the field of Classics, is barely cited in works treating Archaic literature in the dominant Oralist tradition with its hallowed centre at Harvard and at the Centre for Hellenic Studies in Washington, D.C. It is more popular in Homeric scholarship that has an Analyst character, as in the work of Martin West, Barry Powell, and Alberto Bernabé. West’s attempt at the end of the twentieth century to modernize this tradition may be part of the profound unpopularity of his work on Homer in North America. It bears witness to the deplorable condition of Homeric scholarship that books published in the U.S. tend to print excerpts from T.W. Allen’s OCT Iliad (1931), preferring it to West’s Teubner Iliad (1998) published a half-century later. Internationally, three or four traditions of Homeric scholarship continue to churn out books 28  and articles, happily refusing to cite the relevant works in the other traditions. This is a problem no individual can resolve. For my work, I insist on Homeric poems fully theorized in their orality and literacy, with anthropological models addressing speech acts, oral formulae and tradition, performance contexts, and the transition to the written word, which did not however completely fix the text of Homer before the Classical period (Nagy 2010). Recognizing that the Homeric poems are full of narrative and religious detail that was certainly adapted from Semitic populations during the long history of their formation does not justify the analysis of the passages containing these details as not original, not Greek, not Homeric, or having some other negative quality that might cause an Analyst to excise them. A positive, acquisitive stance towards the populations of the Near East was a characteristic of Greek civilization, insofar as one can conceive of it as a singular entity, until the Persian Wars and the invention of the barbarian (Hall 1989). As Gruen states, there was a “powerful ancient penchant (largely unnoticed in modern works) of buying into other cultures to augment one’s own” (Gruen 2011, 5). With this outlook among many Archaic Greek elites, and evidently among some in the illiterate Iron Age (1100-750 BCE), why should the poets whom they patronized not seek out new poetic content whose variety would be pleasing to these audiences? Elite approval of Semitic ideas may already have been evident in the milieux in which they worked; that is, our oral poets of ninth- and eighth-century Greece may well have encountered Phoenicians, Hebrews, or Syrians as honoured guests of their patrons, and may have entertained these wealthy foreigners. In such contexts, some would likely have met individuals skilled in West Semitic oral traditional songs and sayings. Establishing that those with equal or unequal skill in different poetic traditions, Greek and West Semitic, encountered one another is not very difficult—this dissertation presents ample 29  evidence—but here we come up against the significant interpretive hurdle of multilingualism. A portion of the next section on justifications for the current study will address multilingualism, of great interest to us, and all but ignored in Archaic Greek literature.   In 1957, T.J. Dunbabin, working very much in the Athenocentric tradition of Grote, posthumously published the important essay Greeks and Their Eastern Neighbours, which renewed interest in Greek and Near Eastern cultural contact in the fields of Classics and ancient history. The dominant mode of contact in his study came to be one of the most popular in the twentieth century, and that is the Greek settlement in eastern lands (sc. Al Mina) or the multicultural emporium, with the correlative Greek maritime activity in the area, all driven by mercantilism (1957, 25, 27). More interested in “peaceful relations” (1957, 16) than in hostilities, the parameters of what Dunbabin understands to be East-West relations are a spectrum between war and trade (1957, 28). Here is perpetuated the idea that since physical goods are some of the evidence for cultural contact, the exchange of goods must have motivated the contact. Thus, the Greeks established settlements in the area in hopes of more trade, and while this is oversimplified in my view, the idea of Greek settlers in the Near East (1957, 30) led to welcome greater complexity in explanations of cultural contact and exchange for the following 50 years as scholars began to imagine multicultural communities, and the mixed marriages within them as a mode of contact. Dunbabin, following Grote’s version of an imaginary ancient Greece in service to the modern European worldview, had an imperialist mentality that identified the Greeks with the contemporary British, the Near East with the East in opposition to his West, and native peoples of the western Mediterranean with the primitive peoples discovered during imperialist enterprise 30  (De Angelis 1998, 542-3). Finding “self” in ancient Greece, this worldview finds “others” everywhere else, and it requires an obvious motive that good civilized Greeks should want intercourse with these strangers; that motive is trade. However, Dunbabin’s willingness to accept permanent Greek settlements in areas dominated by Phoenician- and Aramaic-speaking peoples added complexity and sophistication to subsequent accounts of cultural contact between Greeks and non-Greeks. I find no fault with his statement, revolutionary at the time, that “the very fact that on these coasts [the Levant] the Greeks met people, in many ways more civilized than themselves, from whom they were able to learn the arts of peace, gives their eastern expansion a unique importance in the history of the transmission of civilization” (1957, 34).   In the wake of Dunbabin’s work various lines of argumentation about cultural contact emerge, which have dominated the discussion up to the present. As I have stated, trade remains an explanatory principle in many theories, specifically trade in finished goods and raw materials, particularly metals (Herodotus 1.1.2; Tandy 1997, passim; Sherratt and Sherratt 1993, 366). Related to this is Burkert’s theory of itinerant professionals (healers, singers, metalworkers) native to areas within Near Eastern cultural spheres who practise their trade in areas dominated by Greeks (Burkert 1992, 22; Raaflaub 2004a, 197-8). This mode of cultural contact remains essentially economic, relating to the supply and demand of valued services. Following Dunbabin, many more scholars were willing to address the evidence for settlements with mixed Greek- and non-Greek-speaking populations (Phoenician, Aramaean, Hebrew, Lydian, Phrygian), which sometimes included the phenomenon of intermarriage and therefore multicultural families (Coldstream 1993, 100; West 1997, 624; Powell 2002, 46, Finkelberg 2005, passim). In addition, many more sites 31  with evidence of multicultural populations have been found, especially on Mediterranean islands. One of the more compelling theories used today involves Greeks serving as mercenaries in Phoenician armies, or Greeks and Phoenicians serving as mercenaries together in Egyptian, Neo-Assyrian or Babylonian armies (Burkert 1992, 25; Woodard 2010, 42-44). In this theory we hear the echoes of Bérard, with the men of weaker Greek states mobilized in service of the stronger Phoenicians or Egyptians.  Archaeology has supplied impressive evidence of cultural contact and cultural mixing since the middle of the twentieth century, particularly on the islands of Cyprus, Crete, Sicily, and Pithekoussai. It is decidedly archaeology that leads and dominates the discussion of intercultural contact in the ancient Mediterranean, and not ancient history or philology. An important corrective to historical accounts, provided first by archaeologists and followed by some in the other disciplines, is that commercial encounters alone are not sufficient to explain the cultural exchange in evidence (Strøm 2001, 371; Shanks 1999, 198; Finkelberg 2005, 62; Powell 2002, 46; West 1997, 624). The explanatory value of trade is limited by two facts: 1) the number of foreign goods datable to the eighth century and before is too small to be indicative of commerce; and 2) the evidence of cultural exchange in religion, poetry, and technology is too profound to be explained by small-scale commercial contacts. Something else must be going on. An important development has been the acknowledgement that the type, quantity, and deposition of foreign goods in Greek contexts from the tenth to eighth centuries is consistent with the idea of elite gift exchange between Greeks and non-Greeks (Hodos 2009, 232).   In addition to trade, itinerant specialists, multicultural communities and mixed marriages, some scholars in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century have attempted 32  to explain the cultural connections that bind the Greeks, Lydians, Phoenicians, Syrians, and others using the notion of a Mediteranean Koine or an East Mediterranean Koine (Riva 2005, 203; Demand 2011, xi-xv; Powell 2002, 42; Marinatos and Wyatt 2011, 407). I agree that the cultural contact from the Late Bronze Age to the end of the Archaic Period resulted in such a state of connectedness and shared references; I agree that the peoples of the Mediterranean were collectively, over time, Mediterraneanized through contact with one another (Purcell 1990; Horden and Purcell 2000; Raaflaub 2000; Malkin 2003; Malkin 2011; Morris 2003); they created a common language of symbols, images and rituals. We must never lose sight of the role of cause and effect in this theory. A Mediterranean Koine is the result of a number of processes of cultural exchange occurring over hundreds of years. It is not the cause of those processes. What practices and motives caused the cultural exchange is my focus, and the idea of a Koine has no explanatory value in this research. The evidence of cultural exchange is the fabric of this Koine; it is made of the shared practices and ideas of ancient Mediterranean (and sometimes Mesopotamian) peoples. It offers no insight into how the Koine arose. This present study of multicultural banqueting is an attempt to situate cultural exchange in the context of real social practices observable in ancient data; if I can prove that Greeks, Phoenicians, Israelites, and Anatolians took opportunities to banquet with one another, then the multicultural banquet will stand as a powerful interpretive tool in explaining how the Mediterranean Koine arose.  Today, there are many models for understanding the cultural contact and exchange between Greeks and others. They have recently been summarized in Kostas Vlassopoulos’ excellent if anachronistically named book Greeks and Barbarians (2013, 131-145). The “practices of interlinking” among Greeks and non-Greeks Vlassopoulos identifies here are 33  guest-friendship, i.e. the practice of initiating and maintaining contact with foreign (both Greek and non-Greek) peers by means of hospitality and gifts (Herman 1987), intermarriage, diplomacy, travel, exchange (trade), itinerant labour, cult, and commensality. He both provides a neat summary of the scholarly trends I have been tracing and, in his discussion of commensality, anticipates the current study. The examples he gives of Greek contact with non-Greeks at commensal events are all from the Classical period, and he does not analyze the evidence for multicultural commensality in the Archaic period. The research presented in the chapters of this dissertation should provide welcome evidence and perspective to the scholars currently engaged in the debates around cultural contact and exchange, and I am hopeful that my work will be a useful complement and contribution to the newest research in these areas.     Motivations of the Present Study Multicultural Banqueting Research on the evidence that Greeks and non-Greeks banqueted together in the Early Archaic period is a new development since the 1990s arising from the study of Archaic Greek social practices, funerary archaeology, and the comparison of Greek and Near Eastern cultures. I will trace the major developments in this new area of research to explain how the current study develops and makes a significant contribution to it. In his essay “Sympotic History,” Oswyn Murray wrote (1990, 6): [A]t a date which remains to be clarified, but which I believe to have been as early as the eighth century, the Greeks changed from the normal practice of sitting at table to the far more distinctive 34  practice of reclining on couches. This attitude, probably Near Eastern in origin, was passed on the the Etruscans, and once again serves as a ‘tracer’ for Greek influence in the barbarian world. It occurred to me soon after my encounter with Murray’s essay that there was a special quality to this particular artefact of exchange between Greece and the Near East: the reclined banqueting posture is not only an object of exchange, it is an index of the context of contact that might facilitate such exchanges; i.e. banqueting habits were likely transmitted at a banquet. Once we can place Greeks and non-Greeks at a banquet together, what might not be exchanged?  A few years later, Murray suggested that social practices in Israel around the time of David and Solomon “would explain much in the evolution of Greek conviviality from the Homeric feast into the archaic symposion” (1994, 54). These suggestions were followed closely by the contributions of Erich Kistler and Hartmut Matthäus. In 1998, in a study devoted to the development of elite culture in Archaic Athens, Kistler performed an extensive comparison of Archaic Greek and West Semitic (Ugaritic, Hebrew) poetic culture and banqueting practices, finding that the themes of metasympotic poetry were common to both traditions (128-141). He concludes that Greek elites were acculturated to the ways of life of the Canaanite-Phoenician elites (141), and that this was part of the enormous increase in cultural contact in the eighth century BCE (131). In the year after Kistler’s study was published, Hartmut Matthäus presented all the archaeological evidence for reclined banqueting imagery from the eighth-sixth centuries BCE between Syria-Palestine and Etruria, and he argues that the Greeks must have adopted the practice from Phoenicians, most likely on the island of Crete (in the environs of Knossos), in the early eighth century BCE, based on the little-known and very fragmentary votive shields from the Idaean cave of 35  Zeus (1999-2000, 59). So far, we have reclined banqueting and similarities in poetic and banqueting culture analyzed as if they were yet more points of contact between Greece and the Semitic world.  At the turn of the millennium, along with the ever intensifying interest in the Greek symposium, perspectives have begun to change. Acknowledging the recent research, Ian Morris states that “the aristocratic symposium, the performance context for much archaic poetry, had its own orientalising revolution after 700” (2000, 182). It is in discussing the values of these aristocrats that the breakthrough comes. Morris writes (2000, 185): For elitists, a good community would embrace aristocrats from all over Greece, and even from beyond Greece. But this was rarely more than an oppositional dream: the “Greek aristocracy” was an immanent elite, an imagined community evoked in the interstices of the polis world—at interstate games, in the arrival of a xenos, or behind the closed doors of the symposium. Here we see what distinguishes the development of reclined banqueting from other Greek adaptations from the Semitic world. This particular adaptation has an indexical relationship with the context of contact that facilitated it; that is, the adaptation depends on Greeks witnessing West Semitic banqueting practices, likely as participants in those banquets. In ancient Greece and elsewhere, there were social institutions that were open to certain foreigners, even if this was rarely more than an ideal of the aristocracy, as Morris warns.   Most recently, Albert Nijboer analyzes what is known as “warrior feasting equipment” deposited in graves, and suggests how the Greeks could have gained a knowledge of Phoenician banqueting customs, writing that “during the Iron Age, meetings associated with a warrior ideology created an upper-class fabric that assisted the diffusion of cultural phenomena such as syncretism, the transmission of the alphabet, the use of 36  quantified exchange for international trade based on Levantine units of weight and the concept of city-states” (2013, 98), and that such meetings involved banqueting (2013, 119). Since this dissertation follows close on the heels of Nijboer’s suggestions, his conclusions deserve presentation here (2013, 119-20): With the spread of the Orientalising phenomenon during the Iron Age and the subsequent formations of city-states, Greece and Italy adopted goods and imagery from their Phoenician peers ‘not only because the possession of such things enhanced their status but also because the adopted iconography gave expression to their own beliefs’ (Carter 1997, 112). This created a network of communication and a frame of reference for shared tokens. Feasting, storytelling and veneration of ancestors provided a consistent setting ‘having been rehearsed over centuries, thus providing a notion of continuity with the past’ (Sherratt 2004, 211). Phoenician merchants, being of high social status (Aubet 2001, 107, 114-19), transmitted Oriental goods, iconography and concepts, some of which were adopted and imitated in Greece and Italy. Initially, diffusion probably took place at guest feasts, a ritual meal that was the established response to the arrival of visitors (Finley 1977, 125).  These recent developments motivated the present study. If the Archaic Greeks frequently attended banquets with West Semites, either on Mediterranean islands or in the Levant, we have a secure context for many of the the objects of exchange between these populations, as Nijboer suggests above. Nijboer draws his conclusions primarily from warrior feasting equipment found in funerary contexts, and in this dissertation I focus on the iconographical and literary evidence for multicultural banqueting, and discuss the evidence for such banquets going back to the Late Bronze Age. The multicultural banquet as a repeated social context of contact constitutes a revolution in understanding Greek relations with non-Greeks. With this possibility emerging in the modern scholarship, it is now necessary to marshall all the evidence for this newly identified phenomenon, the 37  multicultural banquet, to see whether it is possible to prove the existence of a social institution open to foreign presence in Greece or in a West Semitic population. I here present the most cogent evidence that some banquets had participants from more than one identifyable culture in areas where Greek-speakers were active from the Late Bronze Age until the end of the Archaic period. No previous scholarship has focussed on the iconographical and literary evidence of reclined banqueting as evidence of multicultural banquets, choosing instead to see it as yet another cultural artefact adapted by the Greeks from the Near East. Likewise, no previous scholarship has analyzed multicultural banquets in Homer as representative of idealized social practices in the eighth and seventh centuries, and idealized relations with “the other”. I situate this evidence in a theoretical framework that combines the throughgoing connection of feasting with diplomacy, seen prominently in the Amarna Period, with an anthropological theory of elite exchange proposed by Mary Helms (1988, 262-4), that the principle driving contact and exchange is the pursuit of symbolic capital by elite groups, who are seeking esoteric knowledge as external systems of status-marking and adapting it in order to further differentiate themselves from others in their home communities. Building on the work of Duplouy, who shows that the symbolic capital associated with foreign goods is partly due to the international relations they presuppose (2006, 177), we see that the acquisition of goods, as well as knowledge and lifestyles, is related to a desire to be recognized as elite, or as a peer, by foreigners. This possible motivation for the harmonization of banqueting practices in the Mediterranean has been suggested but not argued by some scholars focussing on earlier periods (Steel 2004, 282; Joffe 1998, 307). Connecting the pursuit of symbolic capital with the necessities of diplomacy satisfies a desideratum in historical theory identified by Jerry Bentley, who says 38  that historians have found it difficult “to evaluate the meaning of cultural borrowings […] or the dynamics that help to expain cultural exchanges” (2011, 344). My target relevance is Archaic Greece, and my results speak to Archaic history, society, and literature. In the study of Archaic Greek literature, my results are primarly relevant in two areas. Firstly, in whatever amount a scholar thinks that Archaic Greek literature adapted West Semitic poetic and religious material, and no one would argue that there is none, the multicultural banquet offers a cogent context for this kind of exchange and therefore provides an interpretive model for the adaptation of poetic material across linguistic boundaries. The banquet facilitates at least a low level of bilingualism among some participants. Secondly, I offer new interpretations of banqueting in Homer, with reference to the language of epic banqueting, its narrative role, and its significance in the society of heroes.  We find that the evidence for multicultural banqueting in the Archaic period has precedents in the Late Bronze Age, and so renewals of contact between Greece and the Near East in the Iron Age and Archaic period resuscitate Bronze Age practices of feasting as diplomacy (Chapter 1). The development of reclined banqueting from the Levant to Greece, Etruria and Sicily can be accounted for by the theory of Mary Helms (1988, 262-4), and building on the conclusions of Alain Duplouy (2006, 177), where emergent elites sought out others of their status to acquire the means to further distinguish themselves—to become, symbolically, more elite (Chapter 2). We find that, from an emic perspective, Homeric diction distinguishes multicultural banquets from banquets among Greeks, and that the banquet is essential in multicultural contact where hostility is possible (Chapter 3). Furthermore, the Archaic Greeks themselves were profoundly concerned with multicultural banquets, how they could be successful and socially consequential, and how they could be 39  dangerously unsuccessful. I demonstrate that it is feasting, first and foremost, that mediates contact between Greeks and non-Greeks in the Archaic imagination, just as, as others have recognized, it is in terms of banqueting that the Greeks make cultural distinctions (Chapter 4).        40  Chapter 1: Multicultural banqueting in the Mediterranean from the Late Bronze Age to the Iron Age Introduction As I described in the introductory chapter, Chapter 2 will assemble and analyze the evidence for reclined banqueting in the areas where it first appears – the Levant, Cyprus, Crete, Assyria, Corinth, Etruria, and Sicily – and offer an interpretation of these representations as a result of prior instances of multicultural banqueting between various groups. Since the focus of this project is multicultural banqueting in general and not reclined banqueting in particular, Chapter 1 addresses the evidence for multicultural banqueting in the Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age and attempts to situate it in a historical context in reference to economic, political, and other social developments. I find that multicultural banqueting was a feature of diplomacy in the Great Kings system of the Amarna period, a system with which the Bronze Age Greeks were peripherally involved. Also, banqueting and banqueting services feature in the relations between Mycenaeans and Minoans; to some extent we can conclude, along with Wright 2004, that the Mycenaeans became acculturated to Minoan styles of banqueting and banqueting equipment, even as they came to politically dominate the latter. This study is about Archaic Greek society and thought, and its point of articulation is that there is scholarly consensus that Greeks must have adapted the reclined posture for their drinking parties from West Semitic models sometime in the Late Geometric / Early Archaic period (Murray 1990, 6), and there are both a number of scholars who suggest that Greeks 41  and West Semitic peoples had opportunities to banquet together (Nijboer 2013; Hodos 2009; López-Ruiz 2010), and some who observe that the Archaic Greek symposion had as part of its ideology in some circles the notion that elite Greeks would host non-Greeks at their festivities and be hosted in return (Morris 2000, 185). It is sometimes said that the symposion was closed from the perspective of the non-elites within the Greek city (Carey 2009, Matthäus 1999-2000), but it was a site for contestation of elite status among those who wished to acquire it, and thus participation was not limited to an elite defined in terms other than the participation in the symposion (Duplouy 2006, 146). Connected to its role in discursively constructing elite status and terms of distinction within the Greek city, the festivities were to a certain degree open to elites from other, including non-Greek, cities, and importantly, they featured hetairai, performers and slaves from other Greek and non-Greek cities. The putative presence of foreign luxuries and interstate connections implied enhanced the prestige of the symposion (Morris 2000).  The multicultural reality of the early Greek banqueting practices that came to be known as symposia and what the reclined posture indicates about Greeks and non-Greeks banqueting together have serious implications for the ways we envisage the exchange of cultural information between Greeks and West Semitic peoples and between Greeks and all non-Greeks who had an aristocracy that might be engaged in networks of guest-friendship, gift-exchange, and alliances. In addition, once we accept that there were multicultural banquets as demonstrated by the phenomenon of reclining, whether these banquets were reclined, seated, or otherwise is not important when considering the multicultural banquet as a context for cultural exchange. That is, the reclining posture is evidence of Greeks participating in a West Semitic-style banquet sometime before the first evidence for reclined 42  banqueting appears in the Greek-speaking world, and this raises the question of whether there is other evidence that Greeks and non-Greeks banqueted together that does not involve reclining, or the reclined banquet. Erich Kistler has addressed part of this question in his analysis of Homeric banqueting ideology, where he clearly demonstrates with literary evidence that in the non-reclined context of Homeric banqueting, influence from the West Semitic world is unmistakeable (Kistler 1998, 127-41). Kistler does not discuss the implications for multicultural banqueting, but I consider the evidence he adduces to be as suggestive of face-to-face encounters between Greeks and West Semites as the evidence of reclining, and it is therefore as important for considerations of the contexts in which Greeks and West Semitic peoples exchanged information about poetry, music, ritual, technology, and politics, and also clearly indicates that these contexts need not include reclining. I will directly address Kistler’s arguments about the Homeric banquet in Chapter 4. Kistler has argued for direct, face-to-face multicultural banqueting in a subsequent article which traces the distribution of certain specialized banqueting equipment among Mediterranean elites (Kistler 2009), and his work, along with Albert Nijboer’s and Hartmut Matthӓus’, have encouraged me to review and analyze all the data for reclined banqueting from the perspective that it is strong evidence for multicultural banqueting.  When we accept that the cultural import of the multicultural banquet extends further back in time beyond the confines of the seventh century, as Erich Kistler has shown for Homeric banqueting and as Hartmut Matthäus has shown for the advent of reclined banqueting—extended into the mid-eighth century at the latest by metalwork depicting reclined banqueting and klínai from Greek contexts in Cyprus and Crete—it is necessary to ask the question whether events where Greeks banqueted with non-Greeks were phenomena 43  that emerged during the Iron Age or whether the Iron Age evidence represents a continuity or renaissance of practices already apparent in the Late Bronze Age.  The subject of this first chapter is the Late Bronze Age evidence that Greek-speakers took opportunities to banquet with others. When considering the LBA evidence, I have looked at the entire Greek-speaking world and its connections to the wider Mediterranean and Mesopotamia, with special focus on the same regions where I hypothesize that Greeks and West Semitic peoples took opportunities to banquet together in the Iron Age: Syro-Phoenicia, Cyprus, Crete, Sicily and southern Italy. In my review of the LBA evidence two facts emerged that are relevant for the history of multicultural banqueting: 1) The Mycenaeans adapted Minoan banqueting habits, altering them in an idiosyncratic way, and this new Mycenaean mode became dominant on Crete once the Mycenaeans conquered the island ca. 1450 BCE; 2) banquets where representatives of one of the Great Kings of the Amarna letters would be hosted by one of their brother Kings, usually for long periods, was a feature of the distinctive diplomacy of the Amarna period. Not so different from some diplomatic strategies today, in LBA East Mediterranean, Egypt, and Mesopotamia, multicultural banquets were an important context of direct contact between the political power centres.  Minoan-Mycenaean Multicultural Banqueting in the LBA At the beginning of the LBA there emerges a somewhat standardized elite Mycenaean drinking service [Fig. 1], which constitutes a change from MBA drinking habits, 44  characterized by a mix of imported vessels, imitations of imports, and indigenous vessels, which included the replacement of some indigenous ceramic and metal vessels with vessels of gold, silver, and bronze imported from Crete (Wright 2004, 140). This followed a marked increase in the amount of feasting equipment found in certain high-status burials at the end of MBA (Wright 2004, 146). While this increased interest in feasting and its representation and symbolism is related to competition for status and prestige among the elites of different Mycenaean centres (Wright 2004, 156), it is likely that the terms of this competition, in the form of “the acquisition of bronze, silver, and gold vessels by aggrandizing Mycenaean elites during the beginning years of the Late Bronze Age resulted from their participation in such festivals while on Crete” (Wright 2004, 167 cf. 154; cf. Dickinson 1977, 54). Wright gathers a good deal of evidence to support his theory that prior to the foundation of Mycenaean palatial society in LH III A, mainland Greeks participated in Minoan court culture in the form of feasts and that this multicultural, multilingual banqueting experience caused them to adapt certain elements of the Minoan banquet to their own, largely competitive and exclusive, practices of feasting and drinking on the mainland. As pointed out by other authors in the special issue of Hesperia, the Mycenaean feast never replicated the feasting practices of Crete (Borgna 2004b, 261) but selectively adapted some of their components as a result of direct experience of these practices. That is, this archaeologically observable relationship between Mycenaean, Cretan, and Cycladic societies is, as Wright concludes (2004, 172): the result of sustained and intense human social interaction carried out at every level from the personal to the political. Feasting is one of the most ubiquitous and socially productive of these interactions, highly personal and open to infinite cultural variation in the selection of comestibles, their 45  manipulation by preparation and presentation, and customs of their consumption. Feasting can thus be argued to be an appropriate vehicle for many other human activities, especially those that involve production and exchange, all of which depend on human relationships, trust, and sharing.  Here, Wright acknowledges not only that Mycenaean-Minoan multicultural banqueting influenced Mycenaean banqueting practices and status negotiation, but also that such banquets likely served as contexts and motivators of other exchanges and of the development of bonds between these two groups. This is very similar to my hypothesis about the results and opportunities provided by Greek banqueting with West Semitic peoples in the Geometric period, and is an example of how a phenomenon that is in evidence in the Geometric period played a central role in the emergence of Greek elite culture in the LBA.  The LBA Mycenaean Drinking Service, Mycenaean Pictorial Kraters, and their Significance for the Question of Multicultural Banqueting The similarities of the evidence for multicultural banqueting in the LBA to that in the Geometric period are yet more extensive because of the international popularity beyond the Aegean of the aforementioned new elite Mycenaean drinking service that emerges at the beginning of the LBA. This drinking service becomes popular at the coastal Syrian city of Ugarit, in certain cities of Cyprus, on the east coast of Sicily, and in a very interesting development is imitated by local pottery in certain cities on Crete, representing a cultural feedback of the material culture of banqueting determined by the changing relative prestige of Mainland and Cretan society, whereby after the Mycenaeans incorporated local imitations 46  of Cretan wares and Cretan metal vessels into their LBA banqueting service, this hybrid service became prestigious enough for the Cretans to imitate its forms and composition in local ceramic fabric. Importantly, in doing so, the Cretans might not have been imitating the Mycenaeans, but could also have been influenced by Cypriot and Ugaritic deployment of Mycenaean banqueting services. Mycenaean pottery was imported to Cyprus and Ugarit in larger quantities than to any other location in the East Mediterranean (Yon 2006, 145; Steel 2004, 289). The quantities were so large to Ugarit that they allowed the propagation of the theory in recent scholarship that there was a settlement of Mycenaean traders there (Kilian 1990, 459), which has been successfully refuted by Kochavi who argues according to Ugaritic documents that while foreign merchants resided at Ugarit, the majority have Semitic names and are never mentioned as coming from anywhere in the Mediterranean west of Cyprus (1992, 13). It is clear that there was Ugaritic interest in Mycenaean banqueting equipment since “the whole range of Mycenaean painted pottery and tableware” were found there (Kilian 1990, 459). Non-container types are prevalent (Sherratt 1999, 170-171) indicating that the pottery itself was of interest to the Ugaritians (Kochavi 1992, 10), but the pottery alone does not indicate the circumstances of Ugaritic incorporation of Mycenaean forms into their repertories. However, interest in this banqueting equipment does presuppose its recognition as significant in elite systems of ritualized wine-drinking (Sherratt 1999, 185-186). LH III A2 – LH III B Mycenaean pictorial kraters in particular, which were much more common on Cyprus and in the Levant than they were in Mainland Greece, fit into East Mediterranean elite symbolism with their depictions of chariots and bulls (Sherratt 1999, 188-189). It is important to note that Mycenaean pottery at Ugarit is usually associated with Cypriot pottery 47  (Kochavi 1992, 10), so our evidence does not suggest contact between Mycenae and Ugarit without Cypriot involvement, which can be envisaged in a number of ways, including joint Mycenaean and Cypriot trading ventures similar to the Levantine-Cypriot trading ventures in evidence in the Ulu Burun and Cape Gelidonya wrecks (Kochavi 1992, 12). Sherratt sees Cypriot traders as middle-men capable of communicating to producers in the Argolid what would be of interest to consumers at Ugarit, thereby facilitating its production and delivery (1999, 187). In sum, people at Ugarit do not imitate Mycenaean drinking behaviour or the elite Mycenaean banqueting service, but rather incorporate some imported Mycenaean wares into their own banqueting services. I will return to the question of the circumstances of how the Ugaritians adopted these Mycenaean forms after a consideration of the situation on Cyprus, which, as mentioned above, is essential to understanding contact between Ugarit and the Greek mainland. The indigenous ceramic fineware of Cyprus, Base Ring and White Slip, constituted the drinking services of the island until the fourteenth century BCE (LC II A-B), when Mycenaean forms begin to be incorporated (Steel 2004, 292). The Mycenaean pictorial krater, in particular, became a high-status component of drinking services [Fig. 2], along with Mycenaean metal vessels. Intended for display and with an imagery associated with elite lifestyles, it became a necessary component of wealthy burials in coastal cities, while use-wear analysis indicates that the kraters were used for many years before deposition (Steel 2004, 293). Deposits identified as the remnants of elite feasting in the administrative building X at Kalavassos - Agios Dimitrios, a few kilometres inland of the south-central coast of the island, and in a well associated with a sanctuary at Kouklia (near Palaepaphos) contain significant amounts of Mycenaean fineware, especially cups and bowls (Steel 2004, 48  291-2). Importantly, the deployment of Mycenaean ceramics by the Cypriot elite did not emulate the use of these items by Mycenaean elites, but seems to have followed the pattern of use at Ugarit (Steel 2004, 294). Therefore, the use of Mycenaean ceramics associated with drinking in Cyprus is indicative of Cypriot familiarity with Ugaritic drinking practices more than with Mycenaean drinking practices. There is some iconographic, architectural, and literary evidence of multicultural banquets between Mycenaeans and Cypriots and Mycenaeans and Ugaritians that I will address below, but the evidence from Mycenaean ceramics does not go further than indicating that the elites in some Cypriot cities were familiar with Ugaritic elite drinking practice, and therefore had some opportunity to observe it.     The influence of the LBA Mycenaean banqueting service on Crete has been outlined above. The Cretan emulation of the LBA Mycenaean banqueting service (originally composed of indigenous mainland wares in combination with local imitations of Cretan wares and imported Cretan metal vessels) occurs in the context of the Cretan Monopalatial period, LM III A, whereby Knossos under Mycenaean control held sway over the island. On the mainland in LH III B, at the height of Mycenaean palatial society, there was an attempt by central authorities to control feasts even in private funerary practice (Borgna 2004b, 267), and in this period on Crete there is a marked decrease in wine consumption (Borgna 2004b, 268) which is also likely related to Mycenaean dominance on the island and their attempt to control the symbols of elite status. The Mycenaean style of warrior grave appears in LM II at Knossos, and in LM III A at Phaistos, Archanes, Rethymnon, and Chania (Borgna 2004b, 268), with the typical presence of metal weapons and metal vessels, and with a number of vessels significantly lower than was traditional in elite Cretan graves (Borgna 2004b, 264). 49  Concurrent with the climax of Mycenaean power on Crete in LM III B are the feasting deposits at Phaistos, which demonstrate a departure from traditional communal feasts to exclusive, competitive feasts which were “celebrated as occasions of conspicuous consumption and served to promote the ideological strategies of dominant groups” (Borgna 2004b, 248), as was typical in mainland Greece. As the Mycenaean style graves appear on Crete, a parallel development is the appearance of an entirely ceramic and elaborately decorated banqueting service in some LM III graves that differs from earlier Cretan assemblages and is consistent with assemblages found in some settlements at the time (Borgna 2004b, 268). Many of the shapes of this new set were influenced by Mycenaean ceramics, such as kylikes and kraters, but, like the Cypriot evidence, do not indicate emulation of the entire Mycenaean banqueting service or Mycenaean drinking practice and we should see this development in LM III Crete as a possible emulation of Cypriot or Ugaritic banqueting in possible opposition to the Mycenaean model, or at least as an alternative elite system of symbolism from which these less Mycenaeanized Cretans were not excluded.  Before turning to the dynamics of the Mycenaean banqueting service in the central Mediterranean, mention should be made of the theory employed in Louise Steel’s 2004 article about Cypriot banqueting in the Late Bronze Age that is relevant for our discussion of elite symbolic systems and emulation, and for all considerations of multicultural banqueting. Steel, following Mary Helms, highlights “the role of imported exotic commodities and esoteric knowledge in the construction of political and ideological power” (Steel 2004, 282) and sees the incorporation or emulation of foreign cuisine and banqueting equipment as a “transferral of esoteric knowledge of exotic drinking customs and the novel use of external 50  referents in the expression of identity and status” (Steel 2004, 288). I think that the appeal to external referents to assert one’s identity and status is one of the prime engines of all trade and cultural contact in the Mediterranean from the Late Bronze Age through the Archaic period, and this phenomenon is relevant for the consideration of the fortunes of the Mycenaean banqueting service in the Levant, Cyprus, Crete, and Sicily and southern Italy. In theoretical terms, I am working in the postcolonial tradition that sees all cultures involved in exchanges as agents pursuing their interests. It is not a matter of cultural diffusion, an impersonal process whereby memes travel the globe unconcerned for their human carriers. It is not a matter of acculturation, where individuals gain competence in another culture because of the latter’s dominance. What Helms’ theory addresses are the strategies of being or becoming elite employed by individuals, and the acquisition of symbolic capital through the adaptation of foreign systems of status-marking and esoteric knowledge is one such strategy. The earliest Aegean pottery to appear in Sicily and southern Italy in significant quantities is of LH I-II date, in Vivara in the Gulf of Naples, near Salerno, in the Lipari Islands and at Monte Grande in Sicily (Bettelli 2011, 110; Vagnetti 2010, 893-4; Vagnetti and Betelli 2005; Vagnetti 2003; Sherratt 1999, 192). The earliest import of Aegean pottery over all in the central Mediterranean appears at Monte Grande on the central southern coast of Sicily and is composed of Matt-Painted and Burnished Ware from Attica-Aegina of MH date in association with Canaanite jars (Bettelli 2011, 112). Importation is followed by local manufacture of Mycenaean-style and Mycenaean-influenced ceramics in LH III A-B, especially in the plain of Sybaris (Bettelli 2011, 111; Vagnetti 2010, 894; Kilian 1990, 456). Both importation of Mycenaean ceramics on Sicily and local manufacture of Mycenaean 51  forms in southern Italy and Sardinia reach their climax in LH III B-C, during and after the crisis in mainland Palatial society in LH III B (Bettelli 2011, 110). In the plain of Sybaris, while LH I-II cups are the first imports, these are soon afterwards made locally and only storage vessels are imported, with a return to importing drinking and storage vessels in LH III C (Bettelli 2011, 112). In Sicily, from the earliest imports until LH III C, Mycenaean drinking and storage forms are present alongside Cypriot imports and local production of Mycenaean-style ceramics is not significant (Bettelli 2011, 111-2; Vagnetti 2010, 894-5). After LH III C, a major shift in trade and contact between the central and East Mediterranean occurs, with Sicily and southern Italy limited to Tyrrhenian connections in the Early Iron Age and the rise in importance of Etruria and Sardinia as centres of wealth, power, and long distance exchange (De Angelis 2010, 23).  Three important facts emerge from the picture sketched above which are significant for questions of multicultural banqueting. Firstly, there seems to have been greater enthusiasm for the Mycenaean drinking service in the central Mediterranean than in the Levant, Cyprus, and Crete. In southern Italy and Sardinia a large industry emerged making truly Mycenaean, Mycenaean-imitation, and Mycenaean-local hybrid ceramics, and in Sicily and the Aeolian islands, Mycenaean imports were not limited to an elite, but were found “in almost every hut” in the Lipari islands, for example (Kilian 1990, 461). This enthusiasm has prompted Susan Sherratt to hypothesize that the beginning of Mycenaean imports to the area in LH I-II involved “a process of the introduction of a ‘civilised’ wine-drinking ritual to that region—part, in this case, of a strategy of actively propagating lifestyle ideology in the interests of furthering long-term exchange in that direction” (1999, 194). Secondly, the relationship of the locals to the Mycenaean drinking service varies in different areas of the 52  central Mediterranean; in the plain of Sybaris LH I-II imports give way to local manufacture of the same shapes; in Sardinia imports continue alongside local manufacture; in Sicily Mycenaean ceramics are imported throughout the LBA and there is little local manufacture of them (Bettelli 2011, 111-2). Thirdly, the trade in Mycenaean ceramics outlasts Mycenaean Palatial society (Jung 2010, 180; Vagnetti 2010, 895), and it seems that Mycenaean trading ventures to the central Mediterranean increased during LH III C, prompting both the increase in imports in Sicily and the increase in local manufacture in Sardinia and southern Italy. It follows from this that the reaction of some Mycenaeans to the instability in the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean was to intensify their attention on the central Mediterranean. Many other markets for the Mycenaean drinking service were burnt, girded for war, or otherwise unreachable, and so Mycenaeans arrived on the shores of Sicily in larger numbers with greater cargo, and this may have encouraged more local production throughout the Tyrrenian. This intensification in LH III C, however, represented a last gasp, since the areas involved in trade with the Mycenaeans most intensively, Sicily and the Aeolian islands, experienced a diminution of their centrality in the region and of their importance in international trade in concert with the transition from LH III C to the Early Iron Age and the depression seen in the Aegean economy and population size. On the other hand, fortunes were on the rise in areas where the Mycenaean drinking service was just as popular but that had succeeded in incorporating it into their local pottery production, for example Sardinia. One small symbol of their newfound prominence in the region may have been the continuity in their symbolic expressions involving drinking practices during the same period as Sicily had lost one source of its symbolism – the imported Mycenaean drinking service. 53  Iconography of the Banquet in the East Mediterranean and Mesopotamia Another set of evidence that bears witness to the cultural exchange of aspects of elite banqueting and therefore may be the result of multicultural banqueting is the iconography of banqueting in LBA mainland Greece, Crete, Anatolia, the Levant, Egypt, and Mesopotamia. I follow Wright in treating representations of banqueting as elements of banqueting itself (2004, 137), especially since banqueting iconography is often found on vessels associated with the consumption of food and drink, on architectural decoration and furniture that could conceivably be used for banqueting. On the other hand, Egyptian stelai, Hittite rock reliefs, and seal stones are not necessarily directly associated with feasting events, but rather convey information about the status and wealth of the divine, elite or royal person depicted. On the stone reliefs of the gates at Alaca Höyük [Fig. 14], the placement of images of the king seated holding a cup and of a seated god drinking can be interpreted along the lines of Irene Winter’s interpretation of Neo-Assyrian wall reliefs (1981), as communicating to the viewer that one is coming into the presence of the king and the city’s god(s) as one enters the walls, even though the home of the king or temple of the god might be quite far away. The banqueting depicted on Egyptian stelai and paintings can be connected either with the feeding of the dead in the afterlife or making offerings to deities, also conceived in terms of feeding (Dentzer 1982, 26). Simply put, the representations of banqueting in all Mediterranean and Mesopotamian societies serve variable functions and have multiple meanings, but they can never be separated from each society’s attitudes and beliefs about food, drink, and banqueting in other contexts which may or may not be engaged in any 54  single representation. In all the regions mentioned above, eating and drinking are most often depicted as activities carried out by an individual or by pairs of individuals, with a number of notable exceptions, while there may be a number of servants preparing food, serving food and drinks, or playing music (Ziffer 2005, 133-4).  In Mesopotamia, banquets are first depicted around 3000 BCE as part of royal symbolism and were associated with the redistribution of food by the king to the population at large (Ziffer 2005, 133). These images decorate walls, furniture, cylinder seals, and objects such as votive plaques dedicated in temples (Reade 1995, 38). The associations of the banquet changed over time and it became primarily an event “used to reaffirm rank, for decision making and as an opportunity to discuss matters of great importance [and] thus became a high point of court life and an efficient tool in power politics” (Ziffer 2005, 133). In Mesopotamia, the image of the ruler feasting alone symbolized the wealth of the people as a whole (Ziffer 2005, 133), and this would presumably also be the case for the image of the king and queen feasting together. Frances Pinnock traces a development of the motif whereby a greater variety of themes and composition in Sumerian depictions give way to the standardization of a male and female pair sometimes accompanied by servants in Akkadian depictions (Pinnock 1994, 16, but cf. Selz 1983 for a significant number of homosexual pairs), such as the seal from Tell Mozan depicting the seated king with a cup accompanied by the seated queen and two children (Ziffer 2005, 138, Fig. 12). The Sumerian evidence also provides examples of banqueting by single individuals and pairs (Pinnock 1994, 16), but the Akkadian representations favour the heterosexual or homosexual pair of banqueters and these three variations (m/f, m/m, f/f) are the only ones depicted with any frequency (Selz 1983, 492-8). The banqueting images are often associated with depictions of battle, 55  hunting, or tribute scenes. On the Standard of Ur [Fig. 3], which is an ivory and lapis lazuli inlay covering the soundbox of a lyre, the king is depicted as the largest among a total of seven men who sit and drink, resting on their left elbows and holding cups in their right hands, accompanied by servants, a lyre-player and a singer; on the lower two registers servants lead animals to sacrifice and/or butchering, and bring other goods presumably involved in the preparation of a feast. On the reverse of the box is depicted a chariot battle, an infantry battle, and a tribute procession where captives are led before the standing king. More important for the connections with banqueting iconography in the East Mediterranean are the depictions of banqueting pairs where a status hierarchy is not visible between them, as can be seen on an Early Dynastic II cylinder seal (Pinnock 1994, Pl. Ia, on an Early Dynastic III votive relief plaque (Pinnock 1994, Pl. Ie), and on more than a dozen Akkadian seals spanning the entire Akkadian period and into the post-Akkadian period in Mesopotamia discussed by Selz (1983, Taf. 39, Figs. 444, 445; Taf. 40, Figs. 459, 462, 472 [Fig. 4]; Taf. 41, Figs. 481, 488; Taf. 43, Figs. 501, 507, 514, 526; Taf. 46, Figs. 581, 601 [Fig. 5]). Egyptian depictions of banqueting begin at around the same time as the Mesopotamian, or a little later, on stelai of the third dynasty in the first half of the third millennium BCE (Dentzer 1982, 26). Jean-Marie Dentzer expertly describes the motif, which is markedly homogeneous throughout Egyptian history (Dentzer 1982, 26-7), and is usually deployed in a funerary context. A seated individual is represented as receiving offerings of food and drink from servants or officials. There is always a table laden with food before him. The offerings are often accompanied by musicians and dancing. He is sometimes accompanied by his spouse, or by his spouse and children, and these may be 56  seated next to him or across from him, but it is much rarer for them to face him. The motif is sometimes elaborated to include many other banqueters who sit on the ground and are served food and drink by servants (Dentzer 1982, Fig 21 [Fig. 6]). Another variation of the scene shows women seated on the ground, being served drinks and listening to music [Fig. 7]. The Egyptian tradition appears unaffected by the Akkadian tradition of depicting pairs seated facing one another in a way that suggests equal status, which would prove to be so influential in Anatolia and the Aegean. One example in Egyptian art where a heterosexual pair sit across from one another is a representation not of Egyptians but of a Syrian mercenary and his companion (Dentzer 1982, 32, Fig. 22 [Fig. 8]), which should be seen as an exception that proves the rule that Egyptian representations were not significantly affected by the preference in Mesopotamia and Syria for depictions of pairs of banqueters, and anyway clearly differentiate between the status of the two participants – only the man drinks. There are fascinating Egyptian painted ostraka related to mythological stories involving the reversal or upheaval of the natural order of the world. They are evocative representations of banqueting with “the other” and of how ancient Egyptians conceived of harmony, which in these images is presented as a banquet. In this topsy-turvy world, a cat serves a piece of poultry to a seated mouse [Fig. 9], and a cat and a duck sit down to a meal together [Fig. 10].    The representations of banqueting in the Levant follow the pattern of Egypt more closely than they do that of Akkadian culture. The motif of the pair of seated banqueters, such as is depicted on an Old Syrian ritual basin from Ebla (Pinnock 1994, Pl. VIa; Ziffer 2005, Fig. 16; Dentzer 1982, Fig. 25), does not appear on the thirteenth-twelfth century ivory plaques from Megiddo and Tell el Farʿah (cf. Pinnock 1994, 23, who wants to see a 57  pair of banqueters [Fig. 11]), which depict either a single male seated banqueter accompanied by a standing female who faces him (Ziffer 2005, Fig. 21 and 23a) or a single male seated banqueter faced by pairs of male banqueters two-to-a-bench (Ziffer 2005, Fig. 22 [Fig. 12]) who drink from smaller bowls and are not supplied with a table of food, as is their host. In the Levant the standard depiction is of a single male banqueter, possibly attended by a wife or servants, as depicted on the thirteenth or twelfth century Ahiram sarcophagus from Byblos (Ziffer 2005, 154-5, Fig. 24a-e [Fig. 13]), and this motif appears throughout Syria-Palestine in the second and first millennium BCE, on cylinder seals, statuary, sarcophagi, and ivory panels for inlay on furniture. The iconography of the banquet in LBA Anatolia adheres to the pattern established in Akkadian Mesopotamia, with depictions featuring a pair of seated banqueters, but also features many depictions of a single banqueter (Dentzer 1982, 34; Orthmann 1971, 380) as is common in Egypt and the Levant. The images appear on relief vases, cylinder seals, and reliefs on stone (Dentzer 1982, 34-5). Orthmann interprets the images of a single banqueter as representations of a divinity (1971, 380), but this is also the case for the king at Alaca Höyük [Fig. 14]. On the neck of a relief vase found at Bitik, a banqueting human couple sits face-to-face and is associated with processions of servants with offerings and warriors on the belly of the vase (Dentzer 1982, 34; Orthmann 1971, 370, No. 1). On a stone relief from Yasilikaya, a divine heterosexual pair sits on either side of a table or altar (Orthmann 1971, 370, No. 2), a pattern repeated on an unprovenanced stone relief from Yagri, where a banqueting pair sit across from one another, but it is not possible to tell whether they are human or divine (Dentzer 1982, 34; Orthmann 1971, 370, No. 3). On a stone relief from Maraş, an aristocratic heterosexual couple banquets seated across from one another in the 58  company of their child, who stands (Orthmann 1971, Maraş C/1) [Fig. 15]. On a seal from Bogazköy, an individual sits before a table and a man standing opposite him or her offers a libation (Dentzer 1982, 34). In the Aegean world, feasting scenes appear on frescoes from LM I on Crete to LH III B on the mainland (Wright 2004, 155) and on pictorial kraters, larnakes, and a ring. They follow the pattern established in the Akkadian sphere and practiced in Anatolia where male or female individuals are either depicted banqueting in pairs sitting on either side of a table from one another, or alone. A number of frescoes depict the preparation for a banquet and processions bringing food and drink but do not feature, in their current state of preservation, any people eating and drinking. This is the case with a LM I fresco from Ayia Irini on Kea (Wright 2004, Fig. 9 [Fig. 16]), a LM I fresco from Tylissos on Crete (Wright 2004, Fig. 8 [Fig. 17]), and a LH III fresco from Pylos (Wright 2004, Fig. 10 [Fig. 18]).  Depictions of people in the act of consumption of food and drink are rare, and the state of preservation makes it difficult to identify specifics in the images. On the relevant fragments of the Campstool Fresco from Knossos [Fig. 19], a decorated kylix is offered by one individual to another. By the colour of their skin, they should both be men. In a related fragment, the lower half of an individual sits on a campstool. There is debate as to whether the men are human or divine and whether the man offering the cup is seated or standing (Wright 2004, 162-6). Another fragment of the fresco shows a hand holding what appears to be a chalice, a vessel that is usually associated with the divine. For all their ambiguity, the evidence from the Pylos Megaron and the Campstool Frescoes are consistent with the situation in contemporary Mesopotamia and Anatolia, with banqueters appearing alone but especially in pairs, accompanied by servants bringing food and drink and playing music. A 59  similar problem with specificity is encountered with the Pylos Megaron Fresco (Wright 2004, Fig. 13 [Fig. 20]). It seems that two pairs of individuals sit across small tables from one another. The restoration depicts pairs of men holding kylikes, but the preserved portions indicate only that in the one case, two individuals of undetermined sex sit on campstools across a table from one another, and that in the other case an individual of undetermined sex sits on a campstool at a table. What we do know is that these representations are associated with a female lyre-player and an elaborate procession of servants bringing food, drink, and sacrificial animals, so the seated persons are almost certainly participating in a banquet, but we do not know whether they were eating, drinking, or waiting for the banquet to be served, or whether they were homo- or heterosexual pairs. The Aegean evidence, while containing examples of single banqueters, does not show a preference for this type of representation as can be seen in the Levant and Egypt. There are two unequivocal depictions of banqueting from Tiryns. One is a gold signet ring depicting a seated goddess holding a chalice awaiting service by four animal-human hybrid genii who carry beaked jugs (Wright 2004, 165, Fig. 16 [Fig. 21]). The second is a pictorial krater from Tiryns which depicts a man holding a kylix and sitting on a chair similar to a campstool while two chariots race toward him (Wright 2004, 165, Fig. 17 [Fig. 22]). These unequivocal representations in combination with the more ambiguous examples from frescoes indicate that the representation of banqueting in the Aegean world, characterized by the depiction of individual humans or gods banqueting alone or in pairs, follows the pattern already established in the Akkadian period in Mesopotamia and employed in Anatolia in the periods contemporary with Minoan and Mycenaean civilization. The presentation of offerings to a seated divinity who holds a cup, drinks, or sits before a 60  table of food, is a type of representation that is common to the Hittites, Akkadians, Babylonians, Egyptians, Levantines, Mycenaeans and Cretans, and therefore, while I see closer connections between Mesopotamia and Anatolia in terms of representations of the banqueting pair, the offering ceremony to a seated banqueting god or goddess follows a similar pattern in all of the regions studied. This iconography relates generally to the evidence of multicultural banqueting provided by the popularity of Mycenaean ceramics in the LBA. Elites in the eastern Mediterranean became interested in some aspects of Mycenaean drinking practice possibly because their banqueting equipment appealed to the ideas of the Levantine elite about themselves, and it also gave those elites an opportunity to associate with external symbols of power and its associated esoteric knowledge, which further separates them from other elites or non-elites in their home communities, following the anthropological theory of Mary Helms (1988, 262-4). Both the Minoan and Mycenaean iconography of banqueting hold to the same iconographical topoi, but the closest parallels are in Hittite and Akkadian or Babylonian representations, while Levantine and Egyptian parallels are with the representations of offerings to deities, and also on the krater from Tiryns [Fig. 22] where a man sits and drinks, probably alone, as chariots race towards him. It is evidence that Aegean elites became familiar with aspects of Mesopotamian or Hittite banqueting practice, that is, its styles of representation, and these styles appealed to the Aegean elite’s ideas about themselves and provided them an opportunity to associate themselves with external symbols of power, and they therefore represented banqueting in their material culture in a way that adheres in a general way to external patterns of representation, but the mechanism by which this contact and influence occurred is not very clear. The type is already established on Crete 61  before the Monopalatial Period, and the Mycenaeans adapted it along with certain other aspects of Minoan banqueting, such as vessels of precious metal. It is possible that the style of representation on Crete was influenced by a much older Mesopotamian/East Mediterranean style such as that seen on an Old Syrian ritual basin from Ebla (Ziffer 2005, Fig. 16; Pinnock 1994, Pl. VIa; Dentzer 1982, 31, Fig. 25 [Fig. 23]). I am more comfortable with a hypothesis of Mesopotamian influence on Crete via a Levantine intermediary at the beginning of the LBA or end of the MBA than with contact between central Anatolia and Crete in the same time period, since there is much more evidence of Crete being connected in a network of East and South Mediterranean contacts than one of mainland Anatolian contacts. However, the Ahhiyawa texts discussed below attest diplomatic relations between the Mycenaeans and Hittites beginning in the fifteenth century, and in such a situation, there could easily have been Hittite influence on the banqueting practices of Crete at the beginning of the LBA.   The iconography of the banquet itself does not provide any information about how people from the Aegean and Mesopotamia came into contact and became familiar with one another’s banqueting traditions, but some of the other events depicted in association with banqueting representations do provide some clues as to the circumstances under which representatives of these populations may have witnessed the banqueting traditions of the others. The banquet is often represented in association with depictions of processions bringing food and drink, or the spoils of battle. Though these representations clearly represent many different specific elite rituals, it can easily be observed that one of the occasions for feasting is the receipt of tribute of all kinds, either from defeated enemies, vassals, or allies. The offering of tribute is mentioned by Wright as one of the function of 62  feasts at the highest social level in Mycenaean society (2004, 155), and Ziffer presents the Levantine drinking ceremony as a locus for political decision making and as a tool of power politics (2005, 133). These two interpretations of banqueting practices provide a basis for the hypothesis that representatives of foreign populations may on occasion have attended such events both in the Aegean and the Levant in order to establish or affirm economic, political, or military relationships that are in evidence, for example, in the trade of Mycenaean ceramics and the products of the thirteenth century ivory-working school (Feldman 2005; Steel 2004, 289). Viewing the representations of banqueting in their context as part of a broader series of images depicting offering-ceremonies involving tribute and the spoils of war establishes rich ground for theorising the mode of cultural contact between Aegean and Levantine populations in the LBA, for events involving banqueting appear as nodes in the network of international East Mediterranean economic and political relationships, whereby alliances, subordination, and the threat of war are articulated. For banquets to function as rituals involving the receipt of tribute and as tools of power-politics, almost by definition such banquets would not exclude foreigners, but would be open to certain special representatives from other East Mediterranean and Mesopotamian populations, and therefore would provide opportunities to witness foreign banqueting practices, and possibly to participate in the banquet. With this theory we have established new social and cultural milieux that would facilitate the learning and adaptation of foreign banqueting practices. 63  Banqueting, Hospitality, and Diplomacy: The Amarna Letters  There is no better witness to the international dynamics of tribute, gift-giving, alliances, negotiation and subordination in LBA East Mediterranean politics than the diplomatic letters found at Tell el-Amarna in Egypt. As a conclusion to this section on the evidence for multicultural banqueting in the LBA, I will discuss the Amarna evidence in conjunction with the idea outlined above that banqueting was involved in events through which representatives of East Mediterranean populations gathered together, negotiated various economic and political matters and expressed their relationships to one another. This evidence relates to the idea of xenía found later in Archaic Greek literature, but as we will see in Chapter 3, not all multicultural banquets in early Greek are described in terms of xenía. No source provides more information about the dynamics of economic, political, and social relations between East Mediterranean and Mesopotamian states and peoples in the LBA than the diplomatic letters discovered at Tell el-Amarna in Egypt in 1887 CE. Written almost exclusively in Akkadian and dating from the reigns of Amenhotep III and Akhenaten (1391-1334 BCE), they represent an Egyptian archive of diplomatic correspondence with other major powers, smaller independent states, and vassal kingdoms in Syria-Palestine (Cohen and Westbrook 2000, 6-9). Another body of letters are those found at Hattusa that are copies of correspondence sent by the Hittite king to his Ahhiyawan (probably Mycenaean) counterpart (Beckman, Bryce, and Cline 2011, 3-4), and these deserve consideration alongside the Amarna letters as evidence of the same diplomatic system. Four 64  aspects of the relationships between states revealed in these letters are relevant for our consideration of multicultural banqueting. Firstly, the mechanism by which gifts were given, tribute was offered, trade was conducted, marriages were negotiated and letters were delivered between the parties participating in the relationships in evidence in the Amarna letters was the deployment of envoys of various rank to the courts of their partner-states, journeys that would typically take several months. These envoys could be professional couriers, merchants involved in large-scale trade, or high-ranking officials in their home states acting as ambassadors (Liverani 2000, 22). Secondly, according to the traditional customs of hospitality operative throughout the region these envoys were hosted by the court of the king who was the intended recipient of the message, goods, or offer (Liverani 2000, 22). The practicalities of this hosting involve the provision of food, lodging and entertainments deemed appropriate to the rank of the envoy, and would therefore provide opportunities for the envoy to become familiar with the banqueting practices of his host’s court. Increasing the level of the envoy’s familiarity with the host’s court was the frequent prolongation of these diplomatic visits because of a culture of bargaining and contention that characterises both the actual negotiation occurring in the destination city and the posture the kings adopt toward one another in the letters (Liverani 2000, 19, 22). Envoys could therefore remain in the host court for more than a year or two as part of this process of negotiation, which seems to have had as its goal not low-cost transactions but rather the maintenance of the interstate relationship; the bargaining and protestations are driven by a desire to remain in contact (Liverani 2000, 19, 21). Thirdly, actual banquets are discussed in the letters – invitations to banquets are made and protestations about being left off the guest-list are levelled against the correspondent; for example, in EA 3, the king of Babylon, Kadashman-65  Enlil, protests not having been invited by Pharaoh to a feast at Amarna and issues an invitation to Pharaoh to a banquet in Babylon (Liverani 2000, 18-9). Finally, some diplomatic relationships among states and individuals were defined in terms of food and drink. In the Tawagalawa letter, the King of Hatti, probably Hattusili III (1286-1265 BCE), is trying to solve a multipolar diplomatic dispute between him and some men acquainted with an unnamed Ahhiyawan king. In the letter addressed to the unnamed king, he explains Hittite diplomatic principles, stating that safe passage through his territory is established once someone has been sent bread and beer (Beckman et al. 2011, AhT 4 §8). Through these four aspects of Great Powers diplomacy, we see that multicultural banqueting was a common feature of diplomatic practice, related to the hosting of envoys; that the fictive kinship among brother-kings was sometimes expressed by invitations to royal banquets, however unlikely it might be that a king of one land would actually travel to the court of another; and that food and drink could be deployed with specific diplomatic meaning. They defined, in part, relations among different individuals and states.  The area linked by this kind of diplomacy involving the exchange of letters and envoys covered the entire Fertile Crescent and extended west to Arzawa in south-western Asia Minor and Alashiya on Cyprus. The kingdoms inhabiting the Fertile Crescent – Egypt, Hattusa, Mitanni, Assyria, and Babylon – were the core, to use World Systems terminology, and the periphery extended west to coastal Anatolia and the eastern Mediterranean, and filled in the areas between the great powers with vassal kingdoms, such as Byblos, Ugarit, and Qadesh in Syria-Palestine, subject to the competing interests of Egypt and Hattusa. The Mycenaeans were peripherally engaged in the Great Powers system based on the Ahhiyawa texts (but cf. Podany 2010, 260), and they were involved in trade with a number of areas that 66  were involved in the system, such as Cyprus and Ugarit, as I have illustrated above. The relations the Mycenaean states had with Hattusa are difficult to characterise; there is little evidence of trade between Mainland Greece and Hattusa (Beckman et al. 2011, 268-9), beyond a small amount of LH pottery at Boğazköy and Masar Höyük. There are, however, indications of interstate relations in the Ahhiyawa texts. There is very nearly scholarly consensus that the Hittite term Ahhiyawa refers to a Mycenaean state or states, most likely Mycenae in Mainland Greece, but possibly may refer to a state or states on the Aegean islands or may refer to the entire Mycenaean world, including Miletus (Beckman et al. 2011, 3-4). The relevance of these texts to the present study is what they indicate about direct diplomatic relations between the Hittites and Mycenaean states, and about to what extent the Mycenaeans participated in the Great Powers system. With regard to the latter question, it is highly relevant that King Tudhaliya IV of Hattusa, in a treaty with his relative and vassal King Shaushga-muwa of Amurru in Syria dated to the late thirteenth century, explicitly states his relations to other kings in the Great Powers system: AhT 2 §13 (A iv 1-3) “And the kings who are my equals in rank are the King of Egypt, the King of Babylonia, the King of Assyria, and the King of Ahhiyawa” (Beckman et al. 2011, 61). Thus, from the perspective of the Hittite king, the king of Ahhiyawa was a high-ranking member of the Great Powers system. The fact that documents mentioning the Aegean in diplomatic terms are found only at Hattusa suggest that the same view may not have been held by the kings of Egypt, Babylon, and Assyria. Nevertheless, this document suggests that the relations of the Hittite king with the Ahhiyawan king were of a similar significance as his relations with the Egyptian king, for example.  67  The question of the nature of the diplomatic relations between the Hittite and Ahhiyawan kings is more difficult to answer. Of twenty-nine documents in Hittite archives which mention Ahhiyawa, only three are letters between the kings of Hattusa and Ahhiyawa, two from Hittite kings to kings of Ahhiyawa (Beckman et al., AhT 9, mid-fourteenth-early thirteenth century; AhT 4, mid-thirteenth century) and one from a king of Ahhiyawa to a Hittite king (Beckman et al. 2011, 7; AhT 6, early-mid-thirteenth century). In the letters, the Hittite king refers to himself and the king of Ahhiyawa as “we the brothers” (AhT 9 §3) and to the Ahhiyawan king as “my brother” (AhT 4 §8), and the Ahhiyawan king calls the Hittite king “my brother” (AhT 6 §3; §5). The details of the texts mentioned above suggest that some of the conditions of the Great Powers system were in operation between the kings of Hattusa and Ahhiyawa, including an ideology of equality and a relationship described in familial terms. However, in the twenty-nine texts assembled by Beckman, Bryce, and Cline, there is no mention of the exchange of gifts between the two kings, which is very informative about their relationships, since the sending and receiving of gifts was typical of the relationships between the other Great Kings. This absence is the corollary to the near absence of Hittite material in the Mycenaean world and of Mycenaean material at Hattusa (Beckman et al. 268-9), but the two powers had an area of interaction in western Asia Minor. The general picture that emerges from these texts is that the relations between the Hittites and the Mycenaeans between the fifteenth and thirteenth centuries was defined more by conflict and détente regarding the territories of coastal Asia Minor, than by cooperation, trade, and alliances (Beckman et al. 2011, 274-5). Nevertheless, all of the issues addressed in the documents, such as requests for the return of captives, for military cooperation, and for the reception of exiles, presuppose the exchange of ambassadors to negotiate these 68  affairs, ambassadors who would have been hosted by the destination court in a style commensurate with their status.    The Amarna Letters indicate that these states conducted trade as part of more extensive relationships that involved diplomatic envoys, offers of marriage-alliances, and was characterised by long periods of residence in their partners’ courts and cities. Therefore it is beyond doubt that events that could be described as multicultural banqueting took place often as part of the requirements of diplomacy, trade, negotiation, and hospitality in the Amarna period. Contemporary with the Amarna evidence are Hittite texts which use the formulae of Amarna diplomacy in communication between Hattusa and Ahhiyawa, very likely Mycenae. From the Hittite pole of the Great Powers system, the king of Mycenae was a Great King participating in the system.  In considering the possibilities of multicultural banqueting involving Aegean, central Mediterranean, and East Mediterranean populations, I am dealing in part with the dynamics of the relationships between a state or states involved in the exchange of diplomatic letters with the Hittite king, such as Mycenae, or possibly even places like Pylos or Knossos, with an independent state on the periphery of the Great Powers system, in the case of Alashiya on Cyprus, and with a state that was a wealthy and important vassal first of Egypt and then of Hattusa, in the case of Ugarit. It is not necessary that those involved in coordinating trade in the kingdoms of Alashiya and Ugarit would have extended the diplomatic apparatus of trade, negotiation, and hospitality required for participation in the Great Powers system to their trading partners who were not on a first-name basis with the Pharaoh. On the other hand, considering that the Hittite king thought that the king of Ahhiyawa afforded treatment as a Great King, it is very hard to imagine that a state like Alashiya or Ugarit, which had invested 69  in the diplomatic infrastructure of appropriate facilities for negotiation and hospitality and had designated personnel to carry out these functions, which were necessary for their relations with the Great Powers, would not have brought these resources to bear in their negotiations with other trading partners. Alashiya and Ugarit may even have regarded the king of Ahhiyawa as a Great King, and hosted his envoys as such, but we can only speculate about this. I am not arguing that the details of the hospitality practices between participants in the Great Powers system would have been extended unchanged to all their trading partners, but rather that the general outline of relations that the Amarna letters provide would have been operative in the relations between minor members in the Great Powers system and their other trading partners who may not have been involved in the system at the same level. However, the Hittite evidence suggests that the Mycenaeans may have been full, if somewhat distant, members of the system, at least from the perspective of the Hittites, a perspective which was aware of events at Ugarit and Alashiya.  This general outline provided by the Amarna letters and the Ahhiyawa texts articulates a system where diplomacy and trade are necessarily entwined with other social and political activities including reciprocal bonds of hospitality, which by definition feature events where members of more than one cultural or linguistic group eat, drink, and enjoy entertainments together. All of the LBA evidence assembled above that attests to some level of more or less mutual familiarity in the realm of banqueting practices and equipment between the Mycenaeans and Sicily, Minoan Crete, Cyprus, Ugarit, and Hattusa is very elegantly accounted for by an Amarna-like system of diplomatic trading relations involving long periods of hospitality.  70  The evidence assembled above makes a clear case that multicultural banqueting was a characteristic of relations between Greeks and non-Greeks in the Late Bronze Age. By means of an international network of persons travelling for the purpose of diplomacy, trade or other arrangements requiring negotiation, Mycenaean Greeks were hosted by their partners, and this hospitality could have been of the highest level, that is, the hospitality of the ruling court in the destination. This was certainly the case with respect to relations with Sicily, Crete, and Cyprus, while the same cannot be said of Ugarit, which may have acquired its interest in Mycenaean banqueting equipment though its partnerships with Cyprus, while it is even more likely that the Mycenaeans became acquainted with the Near Eastern pattern of representation of banqueting through Cypriot and Cretan intermediaries; however, neither of these probabilities rule out direct hospitality relations between Ugarit and Mycenaean states. In their turn, Mycenaeans would have hosted their partners’ representatives during their visits to the Aegean. I think that the underlying reason for the flexibility of each of these populations in incorporating foreign equipment, styles of representation, and practices into their local banqueting traditions is the process described by Louise Steel (2004), following Mary Helms (1988, 262-4), whereby elites construct their prestige and symbolic power partly by reference to external symbolic systems and the esoteric knowledge they presuppose (Steel 2004, 282, 288).  Iron Age Transitions – New Communities, New Elites, New Styles The end of the LBA in the East Mediterranean, and in the Aegean the transition from LH III B - LH III C, is characterised by major political upheavals, war, and destruction in 71  the Mycenaean states on the mainland and on Crete, in western and central Anatolia, and at Ugarit. I have mentioned above that in LH III C, Mycenaeans increased their trading activities with Sicily and southern Italy and this is part of a pattern where Mycenaeans are fleeing the Aegean for areas that were less affected by the East Mediterranean upheavals, so while some intensified contact with the central Mediterranean, others fled to Cyprus and southern Palestine. It is now generally agreed by scholars that the Early Iron Age (EIA) inhabitants of Philistia were Aegean in origin (Morris 2007, 216-7), and that the warlike Sea Peoples mentioned in Egyptian texts were a conglomeration of various groups with Aegean components (Jung 2010, 177). It is likely that some of these refugees had been elites in the failed Mycenaean states accompanied by their followers (Doumas 1998, 130), since people with fewer resources would not have been able to travel long distances to seek refuge. In an environment of multiple disruptions, some Mycenaeans sought refuge, often violently, in areas of the East Mediterranean less affected by the collapse, and these included Egypt, Cyprus, and southern Palestine. As I write this, the EIA (ca. 1100-900 BCE) Mediterranean continues to be a rich and dynamic area of research. Just twenty years ago it was very common to hear the term “Dark Age” to describe the roughly three hundred years after the end of the Bronze Age, but scholars need to resort to the idea of a Dark Age only insofar as EIA evidence is absent, and happily, though it remains sparse, it is no longer so rare as to justify the term Dark Age. Precocious EIA sites like Lefkandi do not seem as isolated as they once did considering the research on EIA phases of various sites such as Athens, Argos, Tiryns (Jung 2010), and especially those on the islands, such as Knossos, Phaistos (Borgna 2004a; 2004b), and Kommos on Crete, and Kition, Paphos, Salamis and Amathus on Cyprus (Douplouy 2006, 72  164-9). These island sites either recovered more quickly from the LBA disruptions, were less affected by them, or were founded in their wake. There is now sufficient EIA evidence in various areas of the Mediterranean to permit the observation and analysis of regional or supraregional historical patterns, and to discuss aspects of social and cultural history such as banqueting in a broad geographical context where we can observe the links between areas of the Mediterranean in terms of their social practices and symbolic systems, such as has been done recently by Susan Sherratt (2004 and 2010), Alain Duplouy (2006), Ingrid Strøm (2001), and more generally by Ian Morris (2000 and 2007).  It is necessary here to describe in outline some of the EIA developments relevant to considerations of multicultural banqueting and to the emergence of reclined banqueting in particular, which occurred in the ninth or eighth century (Late Geometric period-Early Archaic period), as I will argue in Chapter 2. Three developments are central to these considerations: 1) The preferred locations for feasting rituals in Mainland Greece and Crete shift, but in opposite directions, the Mainland feasts moving from the palaces to isolated shrines and the Cretan feasts moving from the palaces to the urban settlements (Marakas 2010). These shifts are related to the power instability in the areas previously dominated by Mycenaean palaces, and the emergence of different individuals and groups vying for status at the top of the social hierarchy, which gave rise to new types of communities and new styles of banqueting (Borgna 2004b, 269); 2) The development in eleventh-century Cyprus, and subsequent spread to Euboea, Crete, Argos, Etruria, and Sardinia of a somewhat standardized warrior feasting equipment, including swords, knives, cauldrons, tripods, cups, bowls, kraters, spits, fire-dogs, and cheese-graters, and the related development of heroic burials with horses and chariots (Nijboer 2013; Stary 1994; 2000); and 3) The rising 73  prominence in the East Mediterranean of the Phoenician states in the wake of the destruction of Ugarit, their naval exploration of the Mediterranean, and the special case of Cyprus.  Ritual Feasting in Early Iron Age Crete and Mainland Greece A number of authors have observed that in LBA Mainland Greece large-scale feasting and drinking seems to have been tightly controlled by the palaces and hosted in them (Borgna 2004b, 267-8; Marakas 2010, 117-8). The most important archaeological evidence for this practice comes from Pylos and Midea, two palatial sites in the Peloponnese. While this is the largest scale feasting in evidence, it never reached the proportions of LBA Cretan feasting, which seemed to be based on a less exclusionary principle (Borgna 2004b, 256, 263). Mycenaean feasts were primarily a venue for elite competition, and were not so much communal feasts as they were the feasts of a big man (wanax) and his followers (Wright 2004, 148, 154-6). Important changes in banqueting practices occurred with the fall of the palaces and the destabilization of Mycenaean states. The palaces were, with the exception of developments at Tiryns, no longer centers of political and economic life, and they were therefore no longer the location of rituals that articulate the ruler’s relationship with the community, his ancestors, and the gods (Borgna 2004b, 263). Importantly, the Mycenaean rulers themselves were either dead, much reduced, or gone (Doumas 1998, 130), and depending on the circumstances of the abandonments, some due to violent conflict, the palaces may have been considered unsafe. Thus, at the beginning of the Protogeometric period (PG) people began to use the isolated nature shrines 74  of the LH III B-C periods as the locations of their sacrificial and feasting rituals (Marakas 2010, 117). These were the shrines that were not associated with settlements or cemeteries. In LH III B, these shrines received dedications of small man-made votives and contain no evidence of feasting or animal sacrifice, but in the PG they became the primary focus of sacrificial and feasting activity in Mainland Greece (Marakas 2010, 117). Tiryns is the one Mycenaean site where the area dedicated to feasting remains closely associated with the palace in the PG (Jung 2010, 171-3), while at Mycenae settlement continued in the area of the citadel after the fall of the palace (Jung 2010, 173). Marakas’ analysis differs from mine in that she draws distinctions between meat-eating and drinking, and so the transition she traces in the use of the isolated shrines has to do specifically with meat-eating and animal sacrifice. Drinking is in evidence at all LBA shrines in Mainland Greece according to Marakas (126)—palatial shrines, settlement shrines, and isolated shrines—and this should cause us to question how centrally controlled wine and drinking were in Mycenaean Greece, or what kind of drinking was controlled (cf. Borgna 2004b, 267-8). It would seem to have to do with scale, and none of the isolated shrines in the LBA have evidence of drinking comparable in volume to that found at Pylos and Midea.  In the PG, the abandoned palaces no longer held their prior significance and may have seemed as distinctly inappropriate places to make offerings to the gods and host festivities in the PG, as being associated with disaster, internal conflict, possibly destructive rulers, and the threat of renewed violence at the hands of those who attacked some of them. There seems to be a general pattern of people repurposing their isolated, non-urban shrines to be the focus of their sacrificial and feasting activity. Sites where this process is visible include Amyklai in Lakonia (Marakas 2010, 25), Kalapodi in Phocis (Marakas 2010, 39), 75  and Mt. Hymettus in Attica (Marakas 2010, 48). A development clearly related to the repurposing of isolated shrines is the founding of new isolated shrines in the PG, and this is visible at Aetos on Ithaca (Marakas 2010, 18), at Olympia (Marakas 2010, 58), and at Poseidi on the Kassandra branch of the Chalkidian peninsula (Marakas 2010, 66). My interpretation of palatial structures or Mycenaean settlements seeming like inappropriate places for feasting rituals should not be taken too far, because, as is well known, many Mycenaean sites were not entirely abandoned, for example Athens and Tiryns, and remained settlements with associated cult activities in the PG and Iron Age. Mycenae is another exception, where there is evidence of a shrine on the site of the destroyed palace (Jung 2010). In an interesting case that is mirrored at Kommos on Crete, an abandoned Mycenaean settlement on the Corinthian Isthmus becomes an isolated shrine in the PG, complete with evidence of feasting and sacrifice (Marakas 2010, 38). The general picture of banqueting practices in Mainland Greece that emerges in the PG is of a population much reduced in numbers and suffering from economic depression, no longer polarized by the power of the palaces, choosing sites for their feasting rituals that had not before been used for elite Mycenaean feasting, and in general had the characteristic of not being directly associated with any one particular settlement. While these festivities may have gained therefore a more inclusive quality in the EIA, in terms of the inclusion both of non-elites and of people from many settlements, the likelihood that they included events we could describe as multicultural banquets decreases, since by being isolated these ritual sites turned away from the network of contacts with the East and Central Mediterranean previously engaged by the Mycenaean states. The isolation from international contact did not last very long in some areas, with imports from Egypt and the Levant appearing in Olympia, the Idaean cave on Crete, and 76  Lefkandi in the tenth century BCE (Matthäus 2006, 110, 114; Dirlmeier-Kilian 2000, 152, 158).  Also on Crete, the transition from the LBA to the EIA sees a shift in the preferred location for feasting activities. In the Protopalatial and Neopalatial periods on Crete (MM-LM I) Minoan palaces were well equipped with large rooms dedicated to banqueting and large amounts of banqueting equipment (Borgna 2004b, 257). Smaller rooms for the same purpose can be identified at the Minoan villas at Galatas and Petras (Borgna 2004b, 258). The feasts at the palaces most likely involved large numbers of people, both elite and non-elite, as suggested by the hundreds of conical cups found in a store-room near the Quartiere signorile di nord-ovest of Agia Triada (Borgna 2004b, 265, Gillis 1990). During the Monopalatial period (LM II – LM III B, ca. 1450-1200 BCE), under Mycenaean influence, banqueting practices on Crete became more like those on the Mainland, characterised by elite competition, display, and exclusivity (Borgna 2004b, 261-3). Still focused on the palaces and villas, although many of these suffered attacks in LM I B associated with Mycenaean aggression, these settlements operated under a new ideology and feasting became distinctly less communal.  With the Mycenaean domination, banqueting practices and banqueting ideology were transformed on Crete and closely followed the patterns established in the peer polities of the Mycenaean states. With the fall of the Mycenaean palaces and the destruction of Knossos at the end of LM III B, the reaction of the Cretan population to the new unstable political situation differed from that of the Mainland Greeks, and the banqueting equipment and practices that came to the island with the Mycenaeans were employed in new ways by new elites attempting to establish dominance in the absence of Monopalatial centralized control. 77  Large-scale feasting ceremonies moved from palatial and villa contexts to urban contexts in the Subminoan period and the PG, becoming occasions “for ideological and political mobilization and struggle, important in creating power relationships in the new political arena of unstable systems” (Borgna 2004b, 269). The movement of feasting from palace to city is more of a change in the type of community than a change of location. Lacking a system of central control, feasting no longer occurred in the palaces but in other, seemingly more public, areas of the settlement. The use of elaborate pottery for drinking and dining in LM III C Crete seems to be connected with the increasing power of several settlements, such as Phaistos, Kavousi, and Karphi, and the desire of local elites to amass economic and symbolic capital (Borgna 2004a, 179-80; Borgna 2004b, 270).  On the island of Crete, the settlements at Knossos and Phaistos re-emerge as international players in East Mediterranean interstate networks in the eleventh century, earlier than sites on the mainland. One of the possible reasons for their EIA prominence may have been that some prominent EIA communities remained at the same sites as important LBA centres, and were therefore more identifiable by East Mediterranean explorers and traders. However, many people moved from LBA sites to more defensible mountainous settlements, and there are so many of these that Crete did not seem to suffer the same population decline as the Mainland and other Aegean islands (Morris 2007, 217). We must consider the fact of the larger, denser population, the presence of the resurgent LBA settlements of Knossos and Phaistos, and the south-eastern location of the island when accounting for its EIA prominence. Part of the rising prominence of Phaistos in the EIA was the organisation of large feasting events, and the likely use of these events by the new elite to enhance their prestige and power. At the same time, the abandoned harbour of Kommos 78  becomes a coastal shrine with ample evidence for drinking and feasting, with an assemblage of pottery including local, East Greek, and Levantine wares, and a style of shrine that seems to be a hybrid of local style and a style recognised from later artefacts as being Phoenician. I believe that the new elites at Phaistos and Knossos attracted attention to their communities through their aggrandizing behaviour. Considering that this aggrandizing involved banqueting and is contemporaneous with the renewed appearance of imports on the island, the EIA cultural dynamics of these sites involve the possibility that the new elites might have hosted and entertained various visitors from Euboea, the Mainland, Egypt, and the Levant.  The Emergence of the EIA Warrior Feasting Equipment The popularity in the EIA and Geometric period of a complex of grave-goods associated with feasting, wealth, and war, is the strongest evidence for the cultural exchange of banqueting practices and ideology before the appearance of depictions of reclined banqueting in the eighth century. The elements of this equipment appear first in tombs at Palaipaphos on Cyprus in the eleventh century, and recognizably similar assemblages spread from there to Knossos and Lefkandi in the tenth century, Kavousi on Crete, Argos, and Salamis on Cyprus in the eighth century, reaching Etruria, Sardinia, and southern Germany in the seventh century (Stary 1994, 622 and passim). The argument advanced in Albert Nijboer’s 2013 article entitled “Banquet, marzeah, symposion and symposium during the Iron Age: Disparity and mimicry” is that local elites of these regions selectively adopted certain aspects of Levantine banqueting practice and equipment during meetings with 79  foreigners which involved banqueting (Nijboer 2013, 98, 119-20). These grave-goods often include Near Eastern products, especially metalwork, and Alain Duplouy has argued that the acquisition of foreign goods was part of an effort to articulate high status and be recognized as elite by other elites in one’s home community (2006, 164-9).  Already twenty years ago, Stary considered the continuities in funereal banqueting equipment as part of the movement of Aegean-Levantine banqueting practices and ideology westward through the Mediterranean to the Tyrrhenian, central Europe, and Spain. Nijboer, however, took a very important next step in saying that this transference of practices and ideas likely occurred at actual banquets attended by local elites and foreign guests and that such occasions would be conducive to exchanges of other kinds including economic, religious, and political information, and Nijboer’s arguments contributed a significant amount to the inspiration for this dissertation. The earliest identified tomb which contains elements of this IA warrior feasting grave-complex is found at Palaepaphos-Skales, Tomb 49, dated to the second half of the eleventh century or CGI period (Strøm 2001, 368; Karageorghis 1983, 76; Masson and Masson 1983, 411). The grave-goods include three spits (Nos. 16, 17, 18), known as obelói in ancient Greek. No. 16 is engraved with a script transitional between the undeciphered Cypro-Minoan script and the Paphian variety of the Cypriot Syllabic script, and has been read as the genitive of the Greek personal name Opheltes (Masson and Masson 1983, 413). No. 17 bears an inscription which could either be Cypro-Minoan or Paphian Syllabic, but in any case, is a brief, probably ritual, formula of two identical signs divided by a vertical bar (Masson and Masson 1983, 413). No. 18 is inscribed with an X-character, which is found on earlier inscriptions from Kition.  80  These obelói were found in association with the remains of three humans, and a large number of grave goods also related to banqueting, such as a bronze tripod, bronze strainer, bronze and ceramic bowls and cups, and imported Canaanite vessels. The presence of a knife has significance both for banqueting and battle, and the spearhead found in the tomb has clear military significance. Other tombs on Cyprus, at Paphos, Salamis, and Kition, show similar characteristics, but all are at least two hundred years later, and thus are not evidence of the beginnings of this grave-good complex, but rather of its later development. The evidence for warrior feasting equipment shows a general northwestern trajectory of the movement of this grave-good complex through the Mediterranean and Europe. Following the Paphian example, similar grave-goods appear at Lefkandi in Toumba Tomb 79 (Nijboer 2013) and in the burial beneath the apsidal building at the Toumba cemetery (Lemos 1998, 286) and at Knossos in the Fortetsa and North cemeteries (Negbi 1992, 607) in the tenth century. Reflecting what has become the recognized development of Greek overseas contacts in the EIA, the adaptation of the warrior feasting grave-goods is limited to sites on Cyprus, Lefkandi, and Knossos until the eighth century, when the complex is recognized in a tholos-tomb at Kavousi on Crete and in Grave 54 at Argos (Stary 1994, 609-11). In the seventh century, this warrior feasting equipment can be described as a Pan-Mediterranean phenomenon, being recognized in the Tomba Regolini-Galassi in Cerveteri, in the Tomba dei flabelli di bronzo in Poggio della Porcareccia near Populonia (Stary 1994, 611-12), in Grave 74 of the cemetery Im Ried West at Beilngries near Oberpfalz, Germany (Stary 1994, 617), and at La Joya in Huelva, El Palmerón in Niebla, and at Cástulo in Guadalimar, Spain (Stary 1994, 617).  81  Regarding the military significance of these grave assemblages, an important and impressive development of the complex is the incorporation into the graves of chariots, wagons, and sacrificed, or possibly simply deceased, horses. In the IA, this practice first appears at Lefkandi, in the elite burial beneath the apsidal building at the Toumba cemetery in the tenth century, where four horses are buried in one of two shafts, the other containing a cremated warrior in an amphora and the skeleton of a woman (Lemos 1998, 286). Two of the horses had iron bits in their mouths, and the warrior’s grave was equipped with the normal components of the elite burials at Toumba: sword, whetstone, and a knife (Lemos 1998, 282). A similar practice appears in some graves at Salamis, Cyprus, in the eighth century. The richest grave is Tomb 79, which includes among its hundreds of objects the skeleton of a horse, a chariot, a four-wheeled wagon, a throne, bed, and table each with ivory inlay, two iron firedogs, twelve iron spits, a tripod and a cauldron with griffon-head protomes (Stary 1994, 608). In a trajectory that matches what we know about Greek overseas networks and expansion in the IA, i.e. that the Euboeans, with their close relations to Cyprus, led the Greek expansion west (Duplouy 2006, 165), a similar practice appears in the Tomba Regolini-Galassi at Cerveteri in Etruria in the seventh century; this tomb contains a two-wheeled wagon, a four-wheeled wagon, two iron firedogs, two bronze firedogs, and twenty spits. Implicated in the ideology that connects warrior skill, wealth, and banqueting are symbols of horse owning, horse breeding, horsemanship, hunting, chariot warfare, and the remarkable ability of a dead warrior to be delivered to his grave on a hearse pulled by a horse he owns. Comparable in their time to our luxury sports cars or fighter jets, horses were expensive, fast, fragile, and became symbols of the highest status in social, political, and 82  military affairs. This ideology of the horse was part of the ideological package that involves banqueting and warrior skill, parts of which were selectively adapted by local elites throughout the Mediterranean in the EIA and IA (Geometric period). It is part of what is known as Orientalizing, or the development of the Mediterranean koine, but these concepts are less informative about the process than the simple statement that local elites adapted elements of the cultural practices of peoples they came into contact with. Adaptation based on contact sounds quite benign, but the transference of expressly military knowledge and material, of which the chariot is one aspect, suggests that the contact in question had a military dimension, and these elites who came to emulate one another also very likely met in combat on occasion (Stary 2000, 218). The realization that cultural contacts in the IA Mediterranean were sometimes hostile does not essentially change the general dynamics of cultural exchange. Local elites selectively adapted elements of the cultures of those they came into contact with, and while there are multiple motivations for why this occurred, one is that elites seek relationships with external systems of status marking in order to enhance their prestige in their home communities and be recognized as elite by foreigners. An important aspect of the cultural geography of the EIA and IA Mediterranean, determining which peoples were encountered by whom, was the exploration and colonisation of the Mediterranean by Phoenicians and Aramaic-speaking North Syrians beginning in the twelfth century BCE (Gubel 2006, 87; Negbi 1992, 604). The Phoenicians and Syrians, as being the foreigners most often encountered by the Greeks in the PG and Geometric Mediterranean, were very important for the development of Greek networks of exchange with the Near East, Greek adaptations of cultural phenomena we identify as being Near Eastern, and Greece’s own process of exploration, colonisation, and polis formation. 83  Of all the Greeks’ contacts with non-Greeks, it is contact with the Phoenicians and related Semitic-speaking groups that had the most profound impact on the development of Archaic Greek society. The rest of this chapter will be devoted to examining the networks of contacts involving Greeks, Phoenicians, Etruscans, and Sicilians in terms of the evidence for multicultural banqueting provided by the development of reclined banqueting, but first I wish to set the stage by discussing the salient elements of Phoenician expansion.   Phoenicia, the Phoenician Expansion, and the Special Case of Cyprus Besides the fact that their exploration of the Mediterranean likely brought Phoenicians to areas inhabited by Greek-speakers, such as Rhodes, Samos, Knossos, Kommos, Lefkandi (Negbi 1992, 606-8), there are a number of reasons why the Phoenician element in Greek contact with non-Greeks was very important and influential. The first thing we must always keep in mind when considering contact between Greeks and Phoenicians in the IA is that at the end of the LBA, amidst the disturbances on the Levantine coast and the Balkan peninsula, namely the destruction of the Mycenaean palaces and of Ugarit, Mainland and Aegean Greeks as well as large numbers of Canaanites sought refuge on Cyprus (Morris 2007, 216-7; Negbi 1992, 604). These Canaanites fleeing the unstable situation in the Levant at the end of the LBA are one and the same as the people we refer to as Phoenicians in the IA. Thus, beginning in the twelfth century BCE, West Semitic-speaking Phoenicians and Greeks inhabited settlements that were both quite close to one another and united by their presence on the same circumscribed piece of land in the East Mediterranean (Negbi 84  1992, 604-5). In addition, some of these settlements, such as Amathus and Kition, have evidence of being multicultural communities inhabited by Greeks and Phoenicians already in the twelfth century. Therefore, when considering the Phoenician expansion, we must imagine the Phoenician sites on Cyprus as the first step in this process, even though the model we employ to understand the migration is one of refuge, since Cypriot Phoenicians played an important role in the subsequent development of the network of Phoenician settlements in the Mediterranean. By the same token, we must acknowledge that the first place they settled outside their homeland was a relatively large island being settled at the same time by refugee Greeks fleeing the Mainland and the Aegean. We do not normally consider the migration of Greeks from the Aegean to Cyprus and the southern Levant as part of Greek colonisation because of the four hundred years that separate this population movement from the Greek settlement of Sicily and southern Italy, but there is not such a great gap between Phoenician refuge on Cyprus and their expansion further afield in the Mediterranean, with evidence of visits to Spain at the end of the twelfth century, and Crete and Sardinia in the tenth century (Gubel 2006, 87; Negbi 1992, 607-10; 1 Kings 10:22, of Hiram and Solomon; 1 Kings 22:49-50, 2 Chronicles 20:35-7, of ninth century Judahite kings).  Another aspect of Phoenician expansion that is relevant for understanding Greek contact with non-Greeks is that prior to the collapse of the international system in LH III B, the Canaanites along with the Cypriots had been the population in the Mediterranean most interested in Mycenaean ceramics, and the Mycenaeans were consumers of Canaanite crafts such as ivory-work. This familiarity with one another, whose exact details are difficult to define, would have facilitated mutual recognition, communication, and interstate relations in 85  the IA first on Cyprus, but also later on Crete and at Lefkandi. This basic theory rests on a few hypothetical premises. Two hundred years (from the beginning of the Phoenician expansion in the twelfth century to the renewed appearance of Levantine imports on Crete in the tenth century) is not sufficient time for the Greeks on Cyprus to forget that they originated in lands northwest across the sea, nor is it sufficient time for the Cretans to forget that they once received impressive visitors from the West, North, East and South, who each carried certain types of commodities, nor is it sufficient time for the Phoenicians to forget that they once participated in large-scale international trading ventures involving raw materials, agricultural products including wine, and luxury goods. To the contrary, the memories and monuments of the LBA heyday was a powerful inheritance that exerted pressure on individuals and states in the EIA, at least on those who were in a secure enough position to take physical and financial risks. It was clear to all emergent states in the EIA East Mediterranean – Sidon, Tyre, Paphos, Knossos, Phaistos, Athens, Lefkandi – that maritime trade and having relationships with overseas foreigners was a key to wealth and power. This was clear to them because it had been the case before, and their knowledge of this past shaped their view of the unfamiliar ship on the horizon, not into an entirely benign view of foreign traders, but into a perspective that considered the foreigner an opportunity for advancement. The premise of this dissertation is that this renewed interest in foreigners and foreign products in the EIA led to actual events where Greeks and Phoenicians, or other West Semites, Egyptians, Lydians, etc., banqueted together as part of guest-friendship or as part of religious or civic events. On each occasion, there was very likely an economic motive, but the resulting affects on the development of Archaic Greek society ranged far 86  beyond the sphere of trade and the economy into poetry, art, politics, religion, and of course, forms of conviviality. 87  Chapter 2: The Development of Reclined Banqueting in the Mediterranean – Phoenicia and the Levant, Cyprus, Crete, Anatolia, Assyria, Corinth, Etruria, and Sicily Introduction Reclining back with the legs on a horizontal axis, one knee bent, leaning on the left elbow and leaving the right hand free to hold a drinking vessel or morsel of food is quite a distinctive and highly marked mode of consuming food and drink. The markedness of the behaviour, even in its variations as banqueters lie on their fronts or adopt different postures for music or sex, is what I believe gives it its power as evidence for multicultural banqueting. It is not only an artistic motif, which may in itself be quite complex, such as the tree of life (Markoe 1996, 49), hybrid creatures and animal friezes (Gunter 2009, 64, 67, 90). If we think about reclined banqueting simply as a representation, as an image, it is more complex than all of these examples of Near Eastern artistic motifs that were adapted by the Greeks and Etruscans, and also it was used not to represent something foreign or external from the intended viewer, consumer, or audience for the product; it was intended as a reflection of the behaviour of the consumer and how he might employ the object or the building the image adorns. I am able to assert this because there is no doubt that the Greeks, Sikels, and Etruscans did not simply adopt reclined banqueting as a form of representation, but as an actual behaviour – a form of conviviality that came to define their cultures.  This study is not concerned with the ultimate origins of reclined banqueting, but only its adaptation by various peoples in the first millennium BCE as evidence for multicultural 88  banqueting. Burkhard Fehr (1971) argued that the practice ultimately derives from Near Eastern nomads, with their temporary establishments of luxurious living. However, our evidence for the practice clearly associates it with Near Eastern royals and with the elites of Greek, Sikel, and Etruscan cities; that is, with the aristocrats of settled communities. In studies where the origin of the practice is relevant, it is better sought in the royal archives at Mari, dated to the early second millennium BCE, where two kinds of couch are specified, one for sleeping, and one for use while awake (Dentzer 1982, 67), just as the archives of Ashurbanipal state that he used both a day-time and night-time couch (Dentzer 1982, 69). In both of these texts, however, the consumption of food is not mentioned.  Phoenicia and the Levant The earliest securely dated evidence for reclined banqueting in the Mediterranean and Mesopotamian worlds is a section of Hebrew poetry from the woeful eighth-century prophet Amos. In a section of his prophecies (Books 3-6) regarded as being part of his original oracular preaching combined with other materials into a book by his followers around 735 BCE (Hadjiev 2009, 3-4),5 Amos warns the ruling elite of Zion and Samaria of coming disaster as a result of their dissolute behaviour and religious disobedience (Andersen                                                  5 The date stated by Hadjiev in the mid-eighth century is supported by a majority of scholars who see verses 4 and 6 as products of the eighth or seventh centuries. As with any redacted text that took shape over centuries, these dates are not completely secure, and many scholars see the book in its final form as a product of the Persian or Hellensitic period.  89  and Freedman 1987, 557), and characterizes these wealthy people as follows (Amos 6:4-7, NRSV): Alas for those who lie on beds of  4 ivory,     and lounge on their couches, and eat lambs from the flock,  and calves from the stall;  who sing idle songs to the sound  5  of the harp,    and like David improvise on  instruments of music;  who drink wine from bowls,  6  and anoint themselves with the  finest oils,  but are not grieved over the  ruin of Joseph!  Therefore they shall now be the   7 first to go into exile,  and the revelry of the loungers  shall pass away. While this passage is highly suggestive of reclined banqueting, it does not unequivocally indicate that the lying, lounging, eating, and drinking were occurring simultaneously, nor that the lounging resembled what we see later in Assyria, Cyprus, Corinth, and Etruria. Most scholarly discussions of the banqueting practices described in this passage focus on the West Semitic institution of the marzēaḥ, mentioned in Amos 6:7, and translated above as ‘revelry’ (Barstad 1984, 127-42). I wish to make the point that the practices described above involve 90  reclined banqueting of a type very similar to the later representations from elsewhere in Mesopotamia and the Mediterranean. Basing my argument on the meaning of marzēaḥ would make it circular since Amos 6 provides some of the most important evidence for the definition of the marzēaḥ. Rather, I found my argument on the agreement among Biblical scholars that Amos is criticising a set of celebratory behaviours associated with one another, and not listing a number of separate activities that characterise these excessive elites (Barstad 1984, 141), and on the semantics and pragmatics of the plural nouns miṭṭôt ‘beds,’ andʿarśôt ‘couches.’ Adducing parallels from elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible I will show that the semantics of these words are clearly broad enough to permit their use as banqueting furniture, that Amos 6 is not the only text that demonstrates this association, and that the other contexts of these words, that is, how their referents are used in the societies depicted in the Hebrew Bible, help us to understand the events described in Amos 6. The most salient aspect of the use of the nouns miṭṭôt, singular miṭṭāh, and ʿarśôt, singular ʿereś, in the Hebrew Bible is that they sometimes appear as formulaic binary parallels in the bicola of Hebrew poetry, and prophecy in prose, with miṭṭāh always preceding ʿereś (Amos 3:12, 6:4; Psalms 6:6). This pairing of nouns for furniture is used in passages associated with laziness and dissolution or with fear and grief. The passages suggesting laziness and dissolution are Amos 6:4 above, and also Amos 3:12, of very similar import to his warnings quoted above (NRSV): “Thus says the LORD: As the shepherd rescues from the mouth of the lion two legs, or a piece of an ear, so shall the people of Israel who live in Samaria be rescued, with the corner of a couch and part of a bed.” Here we have a prophecy citing part of the same behaviours mentioned in Amos 6 and promising the same result. This second earlier reference to the Samarian proclivity for lounging on couches and 91  beds reinforces the idea that it was a characteristic of elite culture at the time. There is no mention of banqueting in 3:12, but Amos seems to connect the couch and bed to the Samarians’ devotion to leisure, not to a devotion to sleep. His statement seems to imply that the Israelites in Samaria are always lolling about on their couches and beds, waking and sleeping, and in this sense we find support for the interpretation of Amos 6 as involving reclined banqueting; in 3:12, he characterises the people as being entirely devoted to leisure to the extent that beds and couches have become the most characteristic thing about the people, and when they die, nothing will be left but pieces of bodies, beds, and couches. Part of this portrayal of people living out their lives mostly horizontal would involve eating and drinking while reclined on beds and couches, since they seem permanently attached to them. The prophet’s message of warning links the reclining on couches in Amos 3:12 and 6:4; rather than behaving properly in the eyes of the god, the people devote their lives to destructive luxury, characterized by reclining on beds and couches. We do not need to see here a historical reality about the Samarian elites being lazy, dissolute, and having difficulty prying themselves from their couches. We must acknowledge, however, that elite individuals wakefully enjoying themselves on couches was a reference to a social practice comprehensible to the audiences of the text and preaching of Amos. Luxuriating on couches while enjoying food, wine, and music, was an activity known in Syria-Palestine in the eighth and seventh centuries.  The passage that pairs miṭṭāh ‘bed,’ and ʿereś ‘couch,’ in connection with grief and fear is Psalm 6:6. A man languishing in fear of death, his enemies, and the god’s anger says: I am weary with my moaning;  6 every night I flood my bed with 92  tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eyes waste away because of   7 grief; They grow weak because of all my foes. Here we have the couch and bed paired, but there is no sense of leisure, laziness, or dissolution. They are paired for rhetorical amplification, as in the examples from Amos, but here it is the amplification of a sense of despair, restlessness, and sleeplessness. The speaker in the poem has gone to his couch and his bed at night, presumably to sleep, but the comfort necessary for sleep escapes him as he is gripped with grief and fear. The very comfort that escapes the speaker in the psalm is the one Amos says is excessively enjoyed by the Samarians at their peril – carelessness. As the speaker in the psalm goes to his bed and his couch by night, an appropriate time for sleep and comfort, and finds none, the inverse operates for the Samarians in Amos 3 and 6; they go to their beds and couches when they should be full of care about their imminent destruction and their disobedience, and they take pleasure in their beds, couches, feasting, drinking, and music, although they should, like the speaker in the psalm, be wracked with fear and grief, according to Amos. All the other times miṭṭāh and ʿereś appear in the Hebrew Bible, they are not paired. The uses of miṭṭāh include a bed for sleeping (2 Samuel 4:7; 1 Kings 17:19, 21:4; 2 Kings 4:10, 4:21, 4:32, 11:2; 2 Chronicles 22:11, 24:25), a bed used as a funeral bier (2 Samuel 3:31), remaining in bed as a symbol of laziness (Proverbs 26:14), and a bed used for recovery from injury as a metaphor for appealing to another god instead of the god of Israel, 93  which will lead to death (2 Kings 1:4). One other early and specific use of miṭṭāh which can help us understand its function in Amos is the appearance of the word in the Song of Solomon with the special meaning ‘litter’ or ‘palanquin’ (Song of Solomon 3:7). This use of the word can easily help explain the use of ‘beds’ at the festivities described by Amos; the same term is used not of beds, but of litters made of precious materials. Whether the couches were mobile or immobile is not important, but in the Song of Solomon miṭṭāh is furniture used during wakeful enjoyment, just as it is described by Amos, in the latter case as further testimony of the luxury, ease, and dissolution of the Samarian elites. Besides the Song of Solomon reference, there are three uses of miṭṭāh which are particularly important for the interpretation of the behaviours mentioned in Amos 6. The first of these appears in Ezekiel, dated to the first quarter of the sixth century BCE. In a prophecy, Ezekiel says that the god said to him (Ezekiel 23:38-45): Moreover this they have done to me: they have defiled my sanctuary on the same day and profaned my sabbaths. [39] For when they had slaughtered their children for their idols, on the same day they came into my sanctuary to profane it. This is what they did in my house. [40] They even sent for men to come from far away, to whom a messenger was sent, and they came. For them you bathed yourself, painted your eyes, and decked yourself in ornaments; [41] you sat on a stately couch [miṭṭāh], with a table spread before it on which you had placed my incense and my oil. [42] The sounds of a raucous multitude was around her, with many of the rabble brought in drunken from the wilderness; and they put bracelets on the arms of the women, and beautiful crowns upon their heads. [43] Then I said, Ah, she is worn out with adulteries, but they carry on their sexual acts with her. [44] For they have gone in to her, as one goes in to a whore. Thus they went in to Oholah [representing Samaria] and to Oholibah [representing Jerusalem], wanton women. [45] But righteous judges shall declare them guilty of adultery and of bloodshed; because they are adulteresses and blood is on their hands. 94  Here miṭṭāh is interpreted as ‘couch,’ as it is in 2 Samuel 4:7, where miṭṭāh is nevertheless a piece of furniture in a bedchamber that someone lies upon. This particular use of miṭṭāh in Ezekiel is highly relevant for the interpretation of Amos 6, dated around one hundred and fifty years earlier. In Ezekiel 23:41, a miṭṭāh is a piece of furniture used as part of a raucous celebration inside a temple of Yahweh, involving oil, incense, cosmetics, bracelets, crowns, drunkenness, and sex. Many of the drunken guests are not local, but have been summoned “from far away” (Ezekiel 23:40). The association of the miṭṭāh with a table for oil and incense recalls both the description of the celebration in Amos 6, where people recline and anoint themselves, and our earliest representations of reclined banqueting, where small tables stand before the klínai.  Similarly revealing examples of the use of miṭṭāh come from the much later text of the Book of Esther. These examples are in the context of the Persian court of the king Xerxes II (r. 424 BCE), and provide for us two images of reclined banqueting in Persian royal culture. The passages are Esther 1:6, which describes the preparations for a banquet in Susa, which include gold and silver couches (miṭṭôt), and Esther 7:8, which describes Esther reclining on a couch (miṭṭāh) in a banquet hall, and a man throwing himself onto her couch. These passages from Esther illustrate that in the Persian period, when the custom of reclined banqueting was widely practiced in the Mediterranean and in Mesopotamia as far east as Iran, it is the word usually translated in Amos 6 as ‘bed’ which becomes a standard Hebrew word for what Classical scholars would call a klínē. Before looking at the uses of ʿereś when it is not paired with miṭṭāh, it is necessary to discuss the relationship of miṭṭāh to klínē, and how we can interpret the appearance of these words in texts, and their referents in iconography. The semantics of the terms and 95  pragmatics of their referents match closely, with both the Hebrew and the Greek term referring to furniture used for sleeping, eating and entertainment, recovering from illness, and carrying the dead (‘bier’). They stem from roots with closely related meanings: NṬH has the basic meaning ‘to stretch out’ in Hebrew; the Greek root kli has the basic meaning ‘to cause to lean or recline’ (LSJ s.v. klínō). The appearance of these words in a text, therefore, does not automatically suggest the practice of reclined banqueting. According to the narrative context, the words can have a wide range of meanings. As we will see below in my discussion of reclined banqueting iconography in Greece, the object referred to by klínē is nothing other than a couch or bed (Andrianou 2009, 31-2), usually used for sleeping, but sometimes deployed in a special way at banquets. The object does not determine reclined banqueting, but the context of its use. When Alcman combines klínai with tables, various foodstuffs, and a beverage, we can be sure that he is referring to a reclined banquet. In iconography, a similar principle holds. An isolated image of a couch or bed does not indicate reclined banqueting. However, if the furniture is associated in the iconography with servants, musicians, food, vessels for drinks, etc., then we can confidently state that the object is intended for use at a reclined banquet. The very roots of the words in both Hebrew and Greek reveal how these objects were intended to be used, and the fact of reclining is not in doubt. If a klínē or a miṭṭāh is used in connecton with banqueting, the posture of the banqueters is surely reclined, or involves reclining in the various positions a banqueter might assume. Getting back to the Hebrew passages, a further linguistic indication that the activities depicted in Amos 6 and Esther 7 are indeed reclined banqueting is the absence of the normal word for a chair or throne, 96  kiṣṣē’. If these banquets were not reclining, why do they involve furniture intended for reclining to the exclusion of furniture intended for sitting upright? A look at the uses and semantics of the word ʿereś ‘couch’ also produces many early examples that are useful for understanding the events in Amos 6. In some cases, the semantics and pragmatics seem indistinguishable from miṭṭāh: it indicates a sickbed (Psalm 41:3), a bed for sleeping (Psalm 132:3), and a bed that should bring comfort (Job 7:13). ʿereś, like miṭṭāh, can also mean ‘couch,’ and here we get two early examples from Proverbs and the Song of Solomon, where the ʿereś in question seems to function very much as it does in Amos 6.  In Proverbs 7:16-18, a prostitute speaks, and as she tries to tempt a young man to come into her house, she says: I have decked my couch [ʿereś ] with  16 coverings, colored spreads of Egyptian linen; I have perfumed my bed with  17 myrrh, aloes and cinnamon. Come, let us take our fill of love  18  until morning; let us delight ourselves with love.   Here we have the word ʿereś associated with the luxuriant behaviour of anointing with fragrant oils, as it is in the revelry described by Amos. In its erotic content and the presence 97  of a couch and fragrances, it matches closely the description of the festivities in the temple of Yahweh in Ezekiel 23:41. Here we have no banquet, but rather an element of erotic luxury used for an erotic purpose. But the same piece of furniture is present in Amos 6, combined with the use of fragrances, and so in Proverbs 7 we get an indication of the erotic valence of the equipment and behaviours described by Amos. The appearance of ʿereś in the Song of Solomon 1:16 is closely collocated with another word for couch in 1:12, mēsab, and these two terms seem to refer to the same object at the same moment in time. Therefore, the meanings should be the same in both instances, but in 1:16, when ʿereś is used, the ‘couch’ has a more metaphorical meaning. While the king was on his couch [mēsab], 12 my nard gave forth its fragrance. My beloved is to me a bag of  13 myrrh that lies between my breasts. My beloved is to me a cluster of  14 henna blossoms in the vinyards of En-gedi. Ah, you are beautiful, my love;  15 ah, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves. Ah, you are beautiful, my   16 beloved, truly lovely. Our couch [ʿereś] is green; 98  The beams of our house are  17 cedar, our rafters are pine. In these examples, we see a mēsab mentioned as a piece of furniture that the king is using, a couch. The content of the poem shows that a woman is also present who sees the king on his couch, but by the time of 1:16, the woman seems to share the couch with the king, and to speak about the couch as if it symbolizes their relationship, as being “green,” springlike, and fertile. At the time the couch is being shared, it is a ʿereś. The woman’s speech seems to suggest motion towards the king on his couch, first talking about it as if it is somewhat distant, but soon speaking as if she is on the couch with the king and enjoying its pleasures. In this passage, the couch is a symbol of royal ease and prestige, a place for the enjoyment of luxury and erotic pleasure. As the couch is used by elite people who are not sleeping, but rather enjoying the pleasures of life such as love and expensive fragrances, we have here yet another parallel for the use of the couch by the elite Samarians in Amos 6. I think it is significant that different terms are used for the couch occupied by the king alone and for the couch occupied by the king and a woman, and that when occupied by both, the term used is the same as one of the pieces of furniture used by the revelers in Amos 6. In the Song of Solomon, the couch is not used at a banquet, but rather as a place for the waking enjoyment of ease, luxury, and intimacy by elite people, and this, like the earlier comparative examples, should help us understand the function of this piece of furniture at the banquet mentioned in Amos, and also should suggest that the couches and beds used in Amos 6 could be occupied by more than one person at a time. 99  The results of the comparanda assembled above are that we see that miṭṭāh and ʿereś both have basic uses that mean ‘bed’ and ‘couch’ for sleep, comfort, and recovering from illness, but they both also have more marked uses, where they are furniture used, often by the elite, in ritual or quasi-ritual activities involving expensive luxuries, sex, fragrances, and sometimes wine. It is clearly to these more specialized uses of miṭṭāh and ʿereś that Amos refers. Taking this into account, when we imagine people situated on these pieces of furniture while they eat, drink, play music, sing, and anoint themselves with oil, it is quite clear that some of the postures they would adopt could be characterized as reclined banqueting. The thing that immediately strikes the reader of Eric Gubel’s treatise on Phoenician furniture is that there is no archaeological material which manifests the linguistic distinctions between the furniture types miṭṭāh and ʿereś found in Hebrew. In the case of Hebrew, almost all of the words used for couch and bed are interchangeable, so it seems that from a West Semitic perspective, the sorts of furniture used at the celebration described by Amos are not distinguishable by form, but only by use. That is, it is always a bed, but how the bed is used determines whether it is furniture for a reclined banquet.  I regard the idea that the revelers in Amos 6 are participating in a reclined banquet as rather uncontroversial, but in the scholarship about Amos 6 as evidence for the reclined banquet, it is more often assumed than demonstrated with comparanda from the Hebrew Bible. I have adduced this evidence in an attempt to describe a Phoenician social and religious practice, and some would regard this as problematic. Put very simply, none of the examples of reclined banqueting or other waking activities conducted on beds and couches are regarded as the appropriate behaviour of Judahites and Israelites, but are rather the actions of the religiously disobedient, who share in the religious practices of the surrounding 100  peoples. These surrounding peoples are Iron Age Canaanites, who are one and the same cultural group as Phoenicians. There are, of course, regional variations, but in general, all this disobedient behaviour the Hebrew Bible refers to is none other than Phoenician social and religious practice. Strengthening the argument that Phoenician practices can be seen in a description of elite Samarians is the large amount of Phoenician-style ivories found at Samaria, all of which are meant as fittings for expensive furniture such as couches. Amos criticizes the Israelites in Samaria for their luxurious behaviour on ivory couches in the face of danger, and archaeology confirms that wealthy Samarians in the first half of the first millennium BCE used the furniture Amos describes, furniture with ivory fittings crafted in the Phoenician style. The continuity of language, society, and religion in the Iron Age Levant combined with the evidence that Samarian elites used furniture crafted in the Phoenician style of ivory carving indicates allows us to connect Amos’ criticism of the Samarian elites to Phoenician social practices of the same period, that is, the eighth and seventh centuries BCE. Now, the fact that the prophets and others regard this behaviour as abhorrent, and the fact that the Hebrew Bible has very particular audiences in mind, should cause us to suspect that some of the practices mentioned are exaggerated, distorted, and misunderstood. In the examples assembled above, I have no doubt that the nature of the behaviour carried out on the beds and couches is mostly misunderstood by our Hebrew Bible informants. In Amos 6, Ezekiel 23, and even in the speech of the “prostitute” in Proverbs 7, the perspective of the text is mostly unaware of the possible religious significance of these behaviours; that is, this abhorrent behaviour may be religiously sanctioned in traditions not represented by the authors of the Hebrew Bible. I have no doubt that the authors of the Hebrew text 101  misunderstand the motivations of the people carrying out these activities, but there does not seem to be any particular aspect of the behaviour that is exagerrated or distorted, since the same activities are depicted on Phoenician- and Syrian-style drinking vessels (paterae) of the same period, to be discussed below. The depravity and dissolution are exagerrated, since these people may simply be doing what seems like acceptable religious and social practice, but the actions themselves, on which my study focuses, do not seem to have been subject to distorting exaggeration. The behaviours, then, would seem to be consistent with Phoenician practices, prominent in the culture of the Levant from coastal Syria to Sinai.   Cyprus Jean-Marie Dentzer’s conclusion that the earliest evidence for reclined banqueting is on the wall relief of Ashurbanipal (BM 124920 [Fig. 24]), dated ca. 650 BCE, from Room S in the North Palace at Nineveh has exerted a powerful influence on subsequent scholarship, with some scholars presenting it as the earliest artistic representation of the motif as recently as 2003 (Dunbabin 2003, 14). However, three Phoenician- and North Syrian-style bronze and silver drinking bowls depicting reclined banqueting found on Cyprus were dated to the eighth and seventh centuries BCE by Glen Markoe in 1985 (154-6, Cy5, Cy6, Cy13). While in that same year Hartmut Matthӓus dated these bowls significantly later (Matthӓus 1985, 172-3, Nr. 424 ca. 600, Nr. 425 in the seventh century, Nr. 426 in the sixth century), he has since revised his opinion and has argued for dates as early as Markoe’s, and sometimes earlier (Matthӓus 2008, 441-4; Matthӓus 1999-2000, 48-50, Abb. 9-13). Vassos Karageorghis continues to see the bowls as products of the seventh and sixth centuries BCE 102  (Karageorghis 1993; Karageorghis 1999). The pioneering work on these bowls and their chronology was Einar Gjerstad’s 1946 article, but Markoe’s and Matthӓus’ publications have become the standards, and the almost thirty years of subsequent research has refined our understanding of the bowls (paterae), and so in my arguments about their dates, I will focus on the competing opinions of Markoe, Matthӓus, and Karageorghis.  One of the fragmentary silver bowls in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (74.51.4557 [Fig. 25]), probably from southwest Cyprus and reported by Cesnola to have been found “in the so-called “royal tomb” at Kourion” (Karageorghis 1999, 15), i.e. in the Kourion treasure, is generally regarded as earlier than the other two bowls (Markoe 1985, Cy6; Matthӓus 1985, 424; Matthӓus 1999-2000, 49-50, Abb. 11-12). On this bowl we see a man and a woman lying on couches, although importantly for comparative purposes, they lie on their fronts, and I will return to this issue later in the discussion. Each of them holds an object in one of their hands, which may be a piece of food or a drinking bowl, similar to the bowls held by the woman fourth to the left behind the woman on the couch (Karageorghis 1999, 16). Before the lady’s couch is a small staircase that aids her in getting on and off the couch. Between them are a table and a bowl containing fruit, or some other spheroid food. Female servants play music, bring beverages and drinking bowls, and bring prepared foods, including poultry.  This bowl is usually called Cypro-Phoenician (Markoe 1985, 151; Karageorghis 1999, 13), but its style is most closely related to North Syrian metal bowls from the ninth and eighth centuries BCE (Matthӓus 2008, 441-4; Matthӓus 1999-2000, 49), and I adopt Matthӓus’ reading of the bowl as North Syrian. The specific characteristics of this bowl, with the broad, round features of the people depicted, recall the definition of North Syrian-103  style (Winter 1976), which is an aspect of the bowls in Markoe’s groups I and II, dated from ca. 850-705 BCE (Markoe 1985, 149-53). Markoe regards the bowl as transitional between his groups III and IV, and therefore dated ca. 675 BCE (Markoe 1985, 153-4). Karageorghis agrees with Markoe’s dating (1999, 18).  Matthӓus says its closest stylistic parallel is a North Syrian bowl from the Iranian art market (Iran Bastan Museum, Teheran, Inv. No. 15198; Matthӓus 1999-2000, 49; Markoe 1985, U6), which does not have a clear date, but it is worth pointing out the small group of metalwork with similar style and narrative content to which this bowl belongs. Similar scenes of processions, music, and banqueting, but not explicitly reclined banqueting, appear: 1) on a bronze votive shield from the Idaean cave (Heraklion Museum, Inv. No. 32), made on Crete with strong North Syrian influences, dated to the first half of the eighth century (Markoe 1985, Cr7; Matthӓus 1999-2000, 52-4, Abb. 19); 2)  on a North Syrian-style bronze bowl from Idalion (Metropolitan Museum of Art 74.51.5700) dated by Markoe to around 850-825 (Markoe 1985, 153, Cy3), and by Matthӓus to around 800 (Matthӓus 1985, 171, Nr. 423), with parallels at Lefkandi (around 900) and Athens (MG I); 3) on a North Syrian-style bronze bowl, reportedly from Sparta (Louvre, Paris, AO 4702), but possibly made on Crete, dated by Markoe to between 750-700 (Markoe 1985, 156, G3) 4) on a North Syrian-style bronze bowl from Olympia (National Archaeological Museum, Athens, Inv. No. NM 7941), dated by Markoe to between 750-700 (Markoe 1985, 153-4, G3); 104  5) and on a North Syrian-style bronze bowl from Lefkandi (Tomb 70, 18; Popham and Lemos 1996, Pl. 134, 145), dated to around 900 (Popham 1995, 103-6; Matthӓus 2008, 441).  The North Syrian bowl in question (MMA 74.51.4557) therefore belongs to a group whose style and themes have antecedents in the tenth and ninth centuries. I agree with Matthӓus that the bowl can hardly be later than 700 (Matthӓus 1999-2000, 49), and I think that future refinement of the date of this bowl could lead to a significantly earlier date, but not one later than the latest possible one allowed by Markoe and Karageorghis, at 675 (Markoe 1985, 153-4; Karageorghis 1999, 18).     Thus, in the case of the North Syrian silver bowl in the MMA, we are dealing with a bowl whose closest affinities are with products of the ninth and eighth centuries, but may possibly be as late as 675. The most recent assessment puts the dates for the bowl between 710-675 BCE (Egetmeyer 2010, 667). Even with the latest date, in the early seventh century, this bowl predates Ashurbanipal’s relief (ca. 650), the appearance of reclined banqueting in Corinthian art (ca. 610-600), and in Etruscan art (ca. 630-20), and is the earliest representation of reclined banqueting in the Mediterranean and Mesopotamian worlds.  Another aspect of this bowl that can help us understand its date and importance is the presence of two inscriptions in the Early Paphian variety of the Cypriot Syllabic script (Egetmeyer 2010, Kourion 4; Neumann 1999, 33). Of the group of six bowls (the above five in addition to MMA 74.51.4557) with similar styles and narrative themes assembled above, this bowl and number 4 have inscriptions, the latter in Aramaic. The first aspect of these inscriptions that deserves attention is the palaeography of the Early Paphian script. Masson says that the Early Paphian script appears in the sixth century, and therefore either the 105  chronological arguments synthesized above are incorrect, the palaeography of Early Paphian is incorrect, or the bowl was inscribed at least one hundred years after it was manufactured (Masson 1983). In the Kourion treasure from which Cesnola says this bowl comes, there are a pair of gold bracelets inscribed with identical phrases, ‘Etewandros | king of Paphos,’ and two other inscribed bowls, one with ‘Epioros,’ and one with ‘Akestor king of Paphos’ (Masson 1983, 192, 412; Karageorghis 1999, 18; Egetmeyer 2010, 667-8). Masson identifies the script as Early Paphian and dates these bracelets to the sixth or fifth century (1983, 192), but Egetmeyer suggests a date 675-650 BCE (2010, 667). The inscriptions on our bowl are qualitatively different because they name characters depicted in the figural decoration, and we have to take into consideration the possibility that space was left by the artist for the inscriptions (Karageorghis 1999, 18; Markoe 1985, 72-3), therefore making the manufacture of the bowl and the inscription nearly contemporaneous. In naming the characters depicted, it is distinct from the other nine inscribed bowls from Cyprus and the Mediterranean (Markoe 1985, 72), which consist of a single owner’s inscription, and is similar to the practice employed later on the Corinthian column kraters. The most recent autopsy and diplomatic transcription of these inscriptions was conducted by Günter Neumann in 1999. The two inscriptions are clearly related to the lying female and male figures, probably a king and queen (Karageorghis 1999, 15) or a god and goddess (Hermary 2001). For the inscription associated with the queen, of seven characters proceeding from left to right, Neumann offers the transcription ku-po-ro-[x]-ṭọ-u-ṣạ, suggests a reading of me for the unclear sign identified as x, producing ku-po-ro-me-to-u-sa, which he transcribes into alphabetic Greek as Kupromédousa, a female personal name in the form of a feminine present active participle meaning “she who holds sway, reigns over Cyprus” (1999, 34). The 106  inscription above the king/god is less clear, and composed of four signs. Neumann offers the transcription [x]-[x]-le-se, and suggests that the remnants of the unclear signs are possibly consistent with the remains of pa and si, which would produce an inscription of the Early Paphian dialect form for ‘king,’ pa-si-le-se, alphabetic Greek basileḗs (1999, 34). However fragmentary and problematic the inscription, it has led the most recent interpreter to posit a date of 710-675 BCE for the inscription The royal significance of Neumann’s reading of the man’s inscription is self-explanatory, and the name of the female is consistent with Paphian royal naming practices (Neumann 1999, 33). The earliest reference to royalty on Cyprus in the IA is found in the Letter of Wen-Amun (eleventh century), and continues on the stele of Sargon II (late eighth century) and the prism of Esharhaddon (early seventh century), on the latter of which the kings are named. Here there is a very enticing connection between the name of the king of Paphos rendered in Akkadian on the prism of Esharhaddon from 673/2 and the name of the Paphian king inscribed on the gold bracelets found in association with this bowl. Reyes renders the Akkadian as Ituandar (1994, 160), and Masson transcribes the Cypriot Syllabic as Etewandros (1983, 192); it is clear to me that this could be the rendering of the same name, as it has many fewer differences than recognized correspondences between other Greek words and Akkadian renderings, such as Iawani for Iones (Rollinger 2001). While scholars acknowledge that this is the same name, they tend to reject the idea that it may be the same person, arguing that “le nom d’Etéwandros a dû être porté par plusieurs rois de Paphos” (Masson 1983, 192). I agree, and it was also the name of a king who ruled Paphos at the time of Esharhaddon of Assyria (r. 681-669), making a king Etewandros contemporary with the date generally agreed by Matthӓus, Markoe, and Karageorghis for the 107  North Syrian-style silver bowl MMA 74.51.4557 found by Cesnola, according to him in the same tomb as the golden bracelets inscribed ‘Etewandros king of Paphos.’   The North Syrian-style silver bowl discussed above depicts banqueting between two people who lie down while eating and drinking. It is not identical to the reclined banqueting that appears on the wall relief of Ashurbanipal and the Corinthian kraters. For this, we must look to another of our Cypriot bowls, this one a silver bowl in Phoenician-style, MMA 74.51.4555 [Fig. 26], which depicts a style of banqueting that is clearly the model for the later depictions in Assyria, Greece, and Etruria. The iconography of this bowl was treated extensively by Culican in 1982, who produced a large and beautiful drawing of it [Fig. 27]. It was found on Cyprus, and is currently part of the Cesnola Collection, but there is no other information about its archaeological context. It will constitute a touchstone for my dissertation because it is the depiction of reclined banqueting par excellence. In the outer register, an elite couple – already reclining in their wagon – are led out of a walled city for festivities in the open air. On the second register, servants lead animals for sacrifice and butchering, prepare food and drink, serve a drink to a male figure reclining on a klínē, and perform music for his benefit. Opposite him in the same register, servants kneel and bow before a seated female figure. In the third register, a series of male banqueters recline on mattresses on the ground, male servants prepare and serve drinks, and a female figure plays a drum or tambourine. This bowl shows the wide range of activities and events that might be part of a reclined banquet in the open air, including a horse relieving itself. It also reveals a greater variety in the reclining than is seen later, when the form is standardized. Here, the reclined banqueters all assume the same posture, but one reclines on a klínē, while the others recline on matresses on the ground, embodying a social hierarchy with the king on the klínē, 108  and his courtiers on the matresses. Matthӓus says that the closest stylistic parallels for the Phoenician-style MMA 74.51.4555 are “the huntsman’s day” bowl found in the Tomba Bernardini in Praeneste, Latium (Markoe 1985, E2) and bowls found in the Tomba Regolini Galassi in Cerveteri, Etruria (Markoe 1985, E6, E7, E8, E9), all with termini ante quem of the early seventh century, and that therefore the emergence of this group should be dated to the second half of the eighth century (Matthӓus 1999-2000, 48). Culican suggests that this bowl may belong to the late eighth century (1982, 27), a date in general agreement with the date argued by Matthӓus. Markoe dates it to around 675-625 (1985, 156), and Karageorghis follows Markoe’s date (2000, 181-2). The stylistic evidence places this bowl in the late eighth or early seventh century at the latest, while finds of a stylistically similar bowl, but not strictly Phoenician, in Iran may raise the date of this style into the first half of the eighth century (Matthӓus 2008, 443-4; Matthӓus 1999-2000, 48). The date of this silver bowl from Cyprus is provided by Italian finds, but the dates of these finds, in the early seventh century, have not been calibrated to Hallstatt C dendrochronology in this account, and Hallstatt C correlation causes the finds from Etruria and Latium to be dated at least 50 years earlier, therefore raising the dates of the Tomba Bernardini and the Tomba Regolini Galassi into the mid-eighth century (Nijboer 2006, 289, with n. 5). My assessment of the date of this bowl is not based on Hallstatt C chronology, since a full consideration of this is outside the scope of this dissertation, but rather on the stylistic arguments made by Matthӓus. The Hallstatt C evidence, however, provides yet more reason to doubt the low dating of this bowl provided by Markoe. The date of MMA 74.51.4555 is at the beginning of the seventh century, well before 675, but later than MMA 74.51.4557, and exists in a stylistic continuum with it, whereby 4555 represents 109  a stylistic and narrative elaboration in Phoenician style of the themes presented on 4557 in North Syrian style. I am willing to accept a mid-late-eighth century date for 4555, so long as it remains later than 4557, but I would want this to be because of a redating of the Italian contexts in Praeneste and Cerveteri, not because of Iranian finds, which may be too heterogeneous to help us date Phoenician-style material. Following the range of dates provided by the stylistic analysis of Matthӓus 1999-2000 and Culican 1982 and incorporating a chronological relationship with 4557 gives us a date range of ca. 750-675. Therefore, the Phoenician-style silver bowl MMA 74.51.4555 is the earliest depiction of reclined banqueting that takes a form identical to what we see later in Assyrian, Greek, and Etruscan art and society. The male banqueters recline on klínai resting on their left elbows, leaving their right hands free for drinks and food. Their left legs remain straight and their right legs are bent, presumably to provide support for the movements required by banqueting in such a position. It is relevant that only the men recline, and the woman, a queen, sits, similar to what we see on Ashurbanipal’s relief, but in contrast to the Middle Corinthian and Etruscan depictions. In the conclusion to this chapter I will devote a section to the question of gender in association with the reclined banquet. The third Cypriot bowl which depicts reclined banqueting is a bronze Phoenician-style bowl in the British Museum (Inv. 1892/5-19/1 [Fig. 28]), claimed by Alessandro Cesnola to have been found in Salamis in 1877-8 CE. Markoe dated it to around 675-625, and Matthӓus dated it to the early sixth or late seventh century in 1985 (Nr. 426, 172-3), but now considers it part of an older Egyptianising Phoenician tradition (Matthӓus 1999-2000, 49). Matthӓus regards the bowl as extremely difficult to date because it has no close stylistic parallels, and no parallels in narrative content (Matthӓus, pers. comm., 14.02.2012). The 110  central medallion is typical of Egyptianizing Phoenician products, and this depiction of Pharoah smiting enemies with divine protection does not show any peculiarities or diversions from other depictions of the theme in Phoenician art. The unusual narrative decoration is on the outer register, where male and female servants prepare and serve drinks and perform music, a female figure sits nursing a child and holding a lotus flower with two blossoms, while a reclined figure on a klínē before her holds four sprigs of vegetation. In a series of images with no parallels in Phoenician or North Syrian art, a reclined man on a klínē is accompanied by a woman who plays the lyre. In all the other depictions of female musicians, they never share a klínē with one of the banqueters. To their right a seated woman drinks from a bowl. To her right are images of erotic play, where a man carries and fondles a woman, and then a man and a woman have sex on a klínē. This prominent erotic element is not present on any of the other depictions of reclined banqueting in Phoenician or North Syrian art (or on any other eighth and seventh century depictions anywhere). Some aspects of the images on this bowl are very similar to what is described in Amos 6 and in Ezekiel 23, such as the close association of reclining with lyre-playing in Amos 6, and the association of drinking and sex at a festive occasion in Ezekiel 23. Another remarkable and unique element of this bowl is that there is no indication of the consumption of food, as there is on the other two bowls depicting some variety of reclined banquet. In this way, the festivities depicted on this bowl, BM 1892/5-19/1, are more closely connected to the religious celebration of drinking and the erotic mentioned in Ezekiel 23, while the New York bowls recall the scene described in Amos 6, with food, wine, music, and lying on klínai. There seems to be no reason to doubt the date given by Markoe of the mid-seventh century, but, as in the case of the other two bowls, further finds and research conducted by 111  Matthӓus have suggested an earlier date, in this case into the eighth and early seventh century. I do agree with Markoe that this bowl is later than the other two, so whatever their absolute dates, the sequence of relative chronology for these bowls should be, from earliest to latest, MMA 74.51.4557, MMA 74.51.4555, BM 1892/5-19/1.  Lacking further information about the find context of MMA 74.51.4557, the fact that Cesnola said it was found in association with the gold bracelets of Etewandros makes it possible that this bowl, with part of an inscription which could read basileḗs, was a possession of this same king, who ruled at the time of Esharhaddon’s prism, 673/2. In this case, this earliest of the three bowls could hardly be earlier than the end of the eighth century, with the other two being manufactured in the early-mid-seventh century. Without an association with the prism of Esharhaddon, and the King Ituandar mentioned there, the comparative evidence from Etruria, Latium, Lefkandi, Nimrud, and Crete suggest that these three bowls may have much earlier dates, as has been demonstrated by Matthӓus in 1999-2000 and 2008, who points out that the earliest of these bowls may appear in the first half of the eighth century, with a chronology for the trio stretching into the early seventh century. This new chronological orientation must have an impact on the dating of the Cypriot Syllabic script, with a terminus ante quem for the appearance of the Paphian script of the early eighth century, which is in harmony with the date of the Opheltes obelós, inscribed with a script transitional between Cypro-Minoan and the Paphian script, representing the Greek language, and dated to the second half of the eleventh century. Even though I find the Etewandros/Ituandar connection more convincing than many other scholars, in my historical synthesis at the end of this chapter, I will use the higher dates argued for by Matthӓus, because of the compelling evidence from the island of Crete. 112   Crete The evidence which most clearly raises the date for the Cypriot North-Syrian and Phoenician bowls depicting reclined banqueting is some very fragmentary material from the Idaean cave. Fragments of two miniature bronze votive shields whose figural decoration includes depictions of klínai have been found and dated to the early eighth century. Though they are made in a style with close affinities to North Syrian style, it is clear that they are Cretan products and not imports because of the close connection of votive shields with the cult of Zeus and the myth of newborn Zeus on Crete, and stylistic peculiarities that link the shields closely with other Cretan metalwork. This material has been treated in an impressive series of articles by Hartmut Matthӓus (Matthӓus 1999-2000; 2000; 2005; 2008; 2011), and the evidence for reclined banqueting consists of fragments of two miniature bronze votive shields, one of which, National Museum of Athens X 11764 1a [Fig. 29], features a representation of a klínē in association with two standing female figures (Kunze 1931), likely part of a procession of servants involved in a banquet (Matthӓus 2000, 545) similar to what is seen on MMA 74.51.4557 and its comparanda mentioned above. There may be a figure sitting or reclining on the klínē, but this is conjectural. The second fragment suggesting reclined banqueting, of which a photograph has never been published, is in the Heraklion Museum, No Inv. Nr [Fig. 30]. Hartmut Matthӓus has kindly supplied a photograph to accompany this dissertation [Fig. 31]. This fragment likewise depicts part of a klínē, and importantly, very clearly depicts the small step-stool that is typical of early 113  representations of reclined banqueting on klínai (Matthӓus 1999-2000, 54, 58, Abb. 21; Matthӓus 2000, 546; cf. MMA 74.51.4557, Corinthian kraters Louvre E 629, Louvre E 634). Since neither fragment depicts reclined banqueting clearly, in order to use them as evidence for the practice requires an argument based on the special use of the particular piece of furniture known in Archaic and Classical Greek as klínē, a word which makes its first appearance in Alcman (mid-late seventh century). The term has two primary meanings, ‘(banquet) couch’ and ‘bed’ (Baughan 2013, 3; Andrianou 2009, 31), and it therefore matches the semantic range of some of the Hebrew words discussed above. One of its primary meanings is in connection with banqueting, as we can see in its earliest use in Alcman, where the poet seems to be rehearsing the elements of a banquet (frag. 19 Page): κλίναι μὲν ἑπτὰ καὶ τόσαι τραπέσδαι  1 μακωνιᾶν ἄρτων ἐπιστεφοίσαι λίνω τε σασάμω τε κἠν πελίχναις †πεδεστε† χρυσοκόλλα.    4 Seven klínai and just as many tables  1 crowned atop with poppy-seed breads,  and chrusokólla †– come in! –† [mixed] in cups with linseed and sesame-seed. 4 In its first attestation in Greek, the klínē is a piece of furniture for a banquet, for which a laden table is supplied. The meanings of this word expand over the centuries, having a semantic range that mirrors those of Hebrew miṭṭāh and ʿereś discussed above, i.e. klínē can refer to a piece of furniture for sleeping, for recovering from illness, and to a bier (LSJ 1996 s.v., Andrianou 2009, 31-2). In all of its uses, it refers to an object on which people recline or lie down. As mentioned in connection with the Hebrew texts, the context of the use of this 114  object determines its function. Therefore, the appearance of a klínē on NMA X 11764 1a suggests an association with reclined banqueting since the image seems to represent a ceremony with several people in attendance, and it is not a funerary scene, nor one where sleep is involved—in fact, representations of the klínē in the eighth and seventh centuries never involve sleep. The appearance of a klínē on an object ritually dedicated to Zeus in the Idaean cave, which itself depicts a ritual, is explained most elegantly by the idea of a sacrificial banquet during which at least one person reclines, which for some reason was represented on a shield closely connected to myths and rituals of Zeus on Crete. The Cretan shields and Alcman’s poem, being the earliest visual and literary references to klínai in the Greek-speaking world, suggest that this kind of furniture was very much at home at a banquet and that the banquet may have been the earliest Greek context for its use.  Besides the context of the images, we may consider the evidence of the furniture itself to argue for its use in a reclined banquet. One of the only works devoted to Greek furniture is Helmut Kyrieleis’ Throne und Klinen of 1969. As Kyrierleis observes, the appearance of the klínē on Corinthian vases of the late seventh century represents an adoption of an eastern Mediterranean type of furniture, put to use in the Greek context in a way that closely reproduced the Near Eastern practice (118-9), that is, in both regions the klínē was used for reclined banqueting. Kyrielies, understandably due to their fragmentary nature, did not consider the images on the Idaean shields, and therefore he was dealing with a chronology which has been proven incorrect. That is, the first appearance of the Near Eastern-style klínē in the Greek-speaking world was not on Corinthian vases found in Italy, rather, it appears on shields dedicated to Zeus on Mt. Ida in the first half of the eighth century at the latest. This means that no Near Eastern artistic representation of a klínē is 115  earlier than the Cretan representations, and the only data reliably contemporary are the verses of Amos 6. This creates a very difficult situation for arguments that insist on the Near Eastern origin of this object, since there is no explicit visual evidence for its existence in the Near East before the seventh century (the archaeological fragments of furniture do not explicitly inform us about the furniture’s appearance). The klínē that appears on NMA X 11764 1a is of a type most similar to the one depicted on the Phoenician-style silver bowl MMA 74.51.4555 and on the relief of Ashurbanipal BM 124920, but both of those objects are later, and cannot be evidence for the use of the klínē on the Idaean fragments. The best evidence that the piece of furniture on the Idaean fragments is indeed a klínē used for reclined banqueting is that the only earlier representations of similar, but not identical, pieces of furniture in the Greek-speaking world are in funerary scenes on Geometric vases, e.g. Dipylon Krater (LG I, ca. 750 BCE), where the ‘klínē’ (although the word is not attested until the seventh century) is a bier. It is not a klínē with a clear stylistic link with the later Greek and Near Eastern representations, and we cannot determine its connection to the later furniture because of the schematic nature of Geometric art. The appearance on the Idaean fragments of a large piece of furniture, which is stylistically very similar to the later furniture of reclined banqueting, indicates that we are dealing with a representation of banqueting because funerary scenes are absent on Cretan votive shields, and the other figures present on NMA X 11764 1a are consistent with the representations of banqueting on the metalwork from Cyprus treated ablve. Since it must not be a funerary scene or a scene depicting sleep, because there are no parallels for such representations, the only use for this furniture which is consistent with the other representations on the Idaean fragments is that it 116  is intended for reclined banqueting, as it is used in later Phoenician, Assyrian, and Greek representations.  There remains a question of whether the klínai on the Idaean fragments are occupied or empty, and I must argue that since the only representations of empty klínai are on later Neo-Assyrian reliefs depicting preparations for a banquet in an Assyrian camp or the seizure of tribute from the Mediterranean coast (Reade 1995, Figs. 14, 16, 18), and that since these votive shields obviously do not depict these kinds of events, the klínē depicted on each fragment is very likely to have been occupied by a reclined banqueter, whose depiction we have lost due to the fragmentary condition of the shields. Mediating the force of this argument is that, on our earliest explicit representation of reclined banqueting, MMA 71.54.4555, and on the earlier North Syrian-style silver bowl MMA 71.54.4557, the forms of the horizontal banquet are various and seemingly in flux, with artists depicting the figures sometimes laying on their fronts, sometimes reclining, sometimes on klínai, sometimes on matresses on the ground. Therefore, on our earliest likely depictions of the reclined banquet represented by the Idaean shield fragments, we cannot reliably predict how the characters upon the klínai would have been rendered. It is certainly possible that the individuals are lying on their fronts, but I think it highly unlikely that the klínai are empty. Although we do not have any representations of the kind of klínai which became associated with the reclined banquet earlier than the Idaean fragments, it remains likely that this piece of furniture in the Greek world is an adaptation of a Levantine object because of the many fragments of ivory inlay, in North Syrian and Phoenician style found throughout Syria-Palestine and Mesopotamia (Gubel 1987, 1). These decorative panels were incorporated into many different furnishings, but one of their uses was to decorate furniture 117  of the exact type as is associated with reclined banqueting, as can plainly be seen in the carefully rendered klínē on the relief of Ashurbanipal (ca. 650 BCE), BM 124920, where his klínē is decorated with ivories depicting the woman-at-the-window and lions (Beach 1993, 96).  Before moving on, it is important to take stock of the importance of the Idaean evidence for the history of reclined banqueting in the Iron Age and for the possibility of multicultural banqueting. Like some readers of this text, when I began research into the reclined banqueting phenomenon, I expected that the Levant and Mesopotamia would provide clearly earlier examples of the practice, either in art or literature, but the Idaean fragments indicate that our earliest evidence for reclined banqueting – anywhere – are the roughly contemporary testimonies of the Hebrew text of Amos and the fragmentary bronze votive shields dedicated to Zeus in the Idaean cave, both coming from around the middle of the eighth century BCE, with the shields dated to the first half of the eighth century, and Amos prophesying during the reign of Jeroboam II of Israel, ca. 786-746. As Matthӓus has pointed out, late ninth- and early eighth-century Crete must be regarded as having gone through a “Proto-Orientalising” phase in metalwork, where North Syrian and Phoenician models were adapted to local tastes and uses (Matthӓus 1999-2000). The appearance of metalwork influenced by the Levant but clearly created by Cretans at this early date must cause us to reassess all arguments about resident Syrian and Phoenician artisans west of Cyprus. The Idaean bronzes demonstrate that the early, Levantine-style metalwork found at Knossos, Athens, and Pithekoussai may be influenced not directly by the Levant but by Cretan “Proto-Orientalising” art (for Athens, Matthӓus 1999-2000, 54). The complication provided by the Idaean fragments of the ex oriente lux model for Greek art and for reclined 118  banqueting will cause significant revisions in scholarly accounts of cultural contact in the Iron Age, of the development of Greek art, and of the development of Archaic Greek society. For these revisions to take hold, the scholarly community will require more early-eighth century Cretan metalwork to be uncovered, suggesting the same early adaptation of North Syrian and Phoenician crafts.  For reclined banqueting and multicultural banqueting, the Idaean fragments indicate that the elites of Knossos, and probably also of Phaistos, Lyttos, Sybrita, and Gortyn, were the earliest Greek-speaking groups to demonstrate awareness of the practice and accoutrements of reclined banqueting, and therefore they must have had opportunities to witness West Semitic banqueting practices before the beginning of the eighth century. Starting in Crete, the development of reclined banqueting in the Greek world follows a path that is, in the first place, thoroughly Dorian, with the earliest evidence coming from the Idaean fragments, the larnax of the Corinthian tyrant Kypselos (Pausanias 5.17.5), Early Corinthian vase-painting, and representations in Sicily, Southern Italy, and Etruria, although these western examples demonstrate entangled influences from Corinthian, Euboean (non-Dorian), and Phoenician sources (Rathje 2010, 23). As the Greek-speaking world was creatively interpreting stimulus from its non-Greek neighbours in the Iron Age, Cretan populations were at the vanguard of these processes which resulted in the literature, art, social institutions, and states of Archaic Greece. Some of this stimulus occurred at commensal events where Cretan Greeks witnessed the banqueting behaviour of West Semitic people. Anatolia  119  A prince of a Neo-Hittite kingdom in eastern Anatolia was commemorated with a funerary stele inscribed in Hieroglyphic Luwian found in Kululu, known as Kululu 2 [Fig. 32], dated to the mid-eighth century (Baughan 2013, 218), on which the prince speaks in the first person (Hawkins 1980, 220): §1 I (am) Panunis the Sun-blessed prince. §2 For me my children made here a sealed (?) document (?). §3 On my bed(s) eating and drinking…by the grace of Santas I died, §4 and they ZARUMATA-ed the KAWARI’s for me. (or: and the KAWARI’s ZARUMATA-ed me.) §5 Who(ever) shall remove me, §6 whether he (be) a great man, §7 or he (be) a… §8 or whatever man he be, §9 for him may the god Santa’s parwa’s stand on the stele, §10 and for him may they set their seal on his house! In Panunis’ self-description of his actions in §3, we have reminders of Amos’ descriptions of the behaviour of the Samarian elites, feasting on their beds by day, and it also foreshadows a text from the Annals of Ashurbanipal mentioned by Dentzer by way of interpreting the Ashurbanipal banquet relief, where it is written of the king that his happiness is due to his victories, the extent of his empire, the favour of the gods and “la douceur de ses rêves sur le lit de repos nocturne et la clarté de ses idées sur le lit de repos matinal” (1982, 69).  In quadrant A4 of the stele, there is the distinct image of a klínē. This is a Hieroglyphic Luwian logogram (LECTUS) indicating klínē, as it appears in §3 (Hawkins 2000, 489). Here we find combined linguistic and iconographic proof that the “bed(s)” 120  mentioned in §3 are the kind of furniture identified elsewhere in association with reclined banqueting.   The stele of Panunis is the earliest reference to the practice in the Anatolian sphere, and it is significant that it occurs in eastern not western Asia Minor, because this geographical orientation is in accord with the prevailing theory of the Greek adaptation of reclined banqueting, that it was due to contact with West Semitic cultures, not Anatolian ones. This is not to say that there were no Greek speakers in eastern Anatolia or northern Mesopotamia in the eighth century BCE, but there were many more in direct contact with West Semitic cultures at this time on the East Mediterranean coast, Cyprus, Crete, and the central Mediterranean.   The stele of Panunis establishes a pattern in representations of reclined banqueting in Anatolia, where they are most often deployed in funerary contexts in connection with “the actual placement of the dead on a banquet couch within a grave” (Baughan 2013, 3). This is prominent in the Phrygian cultural sphere, where reclined banqueting appears on many funerary stelae (Hawkins 1980, 222), but many of these are later than the temporal parameters of this study. Tumulus MM at Gordion is a well documented example of a Phrygian funerary banquet, and is dated to the mid-eighth or early seventh century (Simpson 2010, 132-4), shortly after the Panunis stele. This is very likely the burial of a Phrygian king, either Gordias or his son Midas, the Mita of Mushki in Assyrian documents (Simpson 2010, 133), and it contains our fullest documentation of an Iron Age banqueting service, including drinking and pouring vessels, serving tables, and an enormous 2.9 m x 1.9 m bed used as the coffin and bier of the king (Baughan 2013, 88; Simpson 2010, Frontispiece, 22, 127-8). This bed is not in the form of a klínē, but we have in Tumulus MM a practice clearly 121  related to other Near Eastern representations of reclined banqueting, such as the Phoenician-style silver bowl MMA 74.51.4555 and the relief of Ashurbanipal, where the king is the only one reclined on a bed as a banquet is served around him. We do not know if reclined banqueting was part of Phrygian royal life at this time, but something akin to it was part of royal death.   Assyria The next appearance of reclined banqueting in the Mediterranean and Mesopotamian worlds after the Cretan evidence and the Kululu stele, is the relief of Ashurbanipal, referred to a number of times above. Ashurbanipal’s banquet relief, found in 1854 by William Loftus in Room S in the west corner of Ashurbanipal’s North Palace at Nineveh, now in the British Museum (BM 124920 [Fig. 1.24]), is unique in Neo-Assyrian Art (Albenda 1976, 64), and has long been considered the earliest visual representation of reclined banqueting in the ancient Mediterranean and Mesopotamia (Albenda 1976, 49; Dentzer 1982, 58). Current scholarly interpretations of the relief do not sufficiently account for the appearance of the reclined banqueting motif in Neo-Assyrian art, and this desideratum was part of my motivation for developing this dissertation. Before offering a new account of the appearance of this motif, I will first describe and contextualize the relief on which it appears, and review the previous interpretations. The relief depicts Ashurbanipal reclining on a couch or bed with a lotus flower in his left hand, and a drinking cup raised towards his mouth in his right. The legs of the bed depict scenes of leaping lions and nude women facing frontally. Richard Barnett argues that 122  the bed seems to be “an elegant Assyrian version of a Phoenician ivory bed, ornamented with panels of the “Woman at the Window”, a motif well known in Phoenician art” (1985, 1). Next to the bed, to the king’s left, is a table with food on it, and at the foot of the bed, queen Ashurshurrat sits in a chair and also lifts a drinking cup towards her mouth with her right hand, and in her left is a plant (Albenda 1976, 63). Around the couple “youths minister wine, Babylonian captives bring food, youths and maidens play music” (Barnett 1985, 1). The presence of the severed head of Teumman, the defeated king of Elam, hanging from a conifer tree behind the seated queen indicates that the banquet was likely held in celebration of this victory, which occurred in 653 BCE (Albenda 1977, 21; Barnett 1985, 4; King 1989, 104-5). The position of the banquet scene with respect to the rest of the relief is significant [Fig. 33], as is the location of these reliefs with respect to the rest of the palace. The relief wall to which the banquet scene belongs is fragmentary. The banquet scene portion is 1.40m long and 0.45m high, and it belongs to the highest of three registers; using the dimensions of the banquet scene which is the largest surviving portion of the relief wall, the wall’s dimensions are extrapolated to be 7.10m long by 1.53m high, with each 0.45m register framed by a 0.037m-0.05m border (Albenda 1976, 60). On the top register are depicted, from left to right, an all-male procession of nine Assyrians and foreigners, notably an Assyrian kalu priest and two conquered Elamite elites, who bring food for the royal couple (Albenda 1976, 62-3); these move toward the royal couple, who are depicted in a grove of alternating conifers and date-palm trees (Albenda 1976, 63).  The relative elevation of everyone depicted in this register corresponds to their status: The king is highest, followed by the queen, who has a footstool that indicates either 123  royalty or divinity (Albenda 1976, 63), followed by the attendants (Albenda 1976, 64). Importantly for the consideration of the reclined banquet, this hierarchy is also illustrated in terms of relative ease; Ashurbanipal reclines, the queen sits, and the attendants stand. The attendants in the wooded area are all female with the exception of one character, who tends to a horse far to the right, and their roles are as musicians, food bearers, fan bearers, attendants, and guardians (Albenda 1976, 65). To the right of the couple and outside the wooded area a procession of male musicians approach a pair of guardians (Albenda 1976, 63). The middle register below this depicts a row of alternating conifers and pruned shrub-like pomegranate trees, with two male guardians (Albenda 1976, 68). Below this, the lowest register depicts a reed thicket (Albenda 1976, 70).  The fragments of this relief wall were found amongst others in Room S, which is amongst a group of rooms (Rooms S, T, V, and W) set on an elevation “20 ft. below the level of the palace” (Albenda 1976, 49). Albenda notes that Room S had two levels (1976, 55) and that the banquet relief should be situated on the upper level (1976, 58), while reliefs depicting battles against Elamite cities and lion hunts adorned the lower level (1976, 55). The upper-level location of the banquet relief has led to its interpretation as an element of private décor, located “in a private apartment, perhaps the royal harem” (Barnett 1985, 5). The fact that it is located in a group of rooms significantly separated from the main areas of the palace supports the interpretation that the relief was meant for relatively private consumption. As the depiction of a Neo-Assyrian king reclining at a banquet is unique, it is likewise unique for its genre. Visual depictions of victory celebrations, which usually involve some sort of banquet, typically feature kings seated (Barnett 1985, 2; Strommenger 124  1964, Pl. 194-5). Sargon II’s celebration of his victory at Muṣaṣir involved an all-male seated drinking party (Barnett 1985, 2). The gender dynamics of Ashurbanipal’s banquet are another element that set this relief apart from previous royal iconography. In earlier examples of the royal banquet, “only male attendants serve both the king and other banqueters as revealed on the bas-reliefs of Ashurnasirpal II and Sargon II” (Albenda 1976, 67; Strommenger Pl.194-5 for Ashurnasirpal II). Typically, in Mesopotamian art in general, masters are paired with servants of the same sex (Albenda 1976, 67). Therefore, in the banquet scene of Ashurbanipal, it is exceedingly unusual that the servants around the royal couple are all female. Albenda’s interpretation of this is that the banquet on the relief was located inside the queen’s quarters, in the queen’s garden (1976, 67). This seems reasonable, especially because of the seclusion of the location of the relief within the palace complex. Possibly the relief was mounted in the area in which such a banquet would have taken place, and therefore these lower rooms (S,T,V,W) were the queen’s quarters. Even if this were the case, it would still leave unanswered the question of why Ashurbanipal was celebrating his military victory, complete with the male Assyrian and Elamite dignitaries, in the queen’s quarters in the company of women.  The strange and unique nature of the reclined banquet on this relief has prompted scholars to account for the development of this motif in Assyria in the 7th century BCE. A common interpretation of Ashurbanipal’s banquet is that it depicts a sacred marriage associated with a new year’s festival, but, as Dentzer points out, while this may partially account for the presence of the couch it does not account for the reclined banquet, since other depictions of sacred marriage involve a seated banquet (1982, 61-2). Albenda’s interpretation is furthest from the mark. She argues that since Ashurbanipal is recorded to 125  have had an unidentified illness, and reclining individuals are interpreted as being sick in the rare examples of Neo-Assyrian art on which they appear, the king’s use of the sickbed changed courtly behaviour and the way he was depicted on reliefs (Albenda 1976, 65). Even if the king was chronically ill, it is highly unlikely that he would have allowed himself to be depicted in a way that suggests weakness. The illness interpretation also fails to account for the obvious power and control displayed by the king in the relief. He is victorious, his enemies dead or in servitude, his household stable, and he relaxes not as a sign of illness but as a sign of health and success. The idea of the king’s illness likewise does not fit with the location of this relief in relation to others. The reliefs in the room directly below depict a very robust Ashurbanipal destroying Elamite cities and hunting lions. If we take all the reliefs in Room S as a narrative continuum, we see that the king successfully hunts lions, he destroys the cities of his enemies, and later, he relaxes with the queen accompanied by female servants. He is fanned, takes food and drink, listens to music, and observes symbols of his victory in the severed head of his opposite number and suppliant foreign captives. We do not detect any element of illness or weakness.  These observations accord with Dentzer’s interpretation of the reclined banquet, which is admirable for its simplicity. All the luxuries of the banquet, of which the reclining is one, are symbols of the king’s power (Dentzer 1982, 63, 68). He adduces a text from the Annals of Ashurbanipal at Nineveh, in which the king accounts for his happiness in terms of his victories, the extent of his empire, the favour of the gods and “la douceur de ses rêves sur le lit de repos nocturne et la clarté de ses idées sur le lit de repos matinal” (Dentzer 1982, 69). This text recalls the semantics of Hebrew words for couch-bed, and Amos’ disapproval of the Samarians’ excessive use of this type of furniture, i.e. even for waking activities. 126  Here, Dentzer cogently and elegantly elucidates the symbolism of the reclined banquet and accounts for the presence of a day-bed among Assyrian royal accoutrements. More recently, scholars have supported Dentzer’s interpretation of the existence and meaning of the reclined banquet in Ashurbanipal’s Assyria, but since it accounts only for the practice in its Neo-Assyrian context and not how the practice appeared there, they have attempted to account for its appearance in terms of foreign influence. Barnett argues that the presence of a Phoenician-style ivory bed in the relief (1985, 1), which is of the type suitable for the West Semitic marzēaḥ (1985, 3), the evidence of the popularity of this kind of ivory-inlay furniture, and the presence of Phoenician or Syrian bronze bowls at Nimrud, leads to the conclusion that the banquet scene “depicts the king celebrating a marzeaḥ ritual (or some form of it), of which a ritual marriage with his queen forms a part,” and that this ritual “seems to have spread to Assyria by the late 8th century BC and to have been performed in the temples and royal palaces” (1985, 5). Thus Barnett, perhaps unwittingly, replaces Dentzer’s interpretation of the reclined banquet as an example of royal luxury, with an interpretation that requires us to look outside of Assyria for its significance. Philip King, in assembling all the literary and archaeological evidence for the marzēaḥ, dismisses Barnett’s suggestion, since there is no evidence for an actual marzēaḥ ritual in Mesopotamia (1989, 105), but rather only the presence of some furniture, cups, and a dining posture that are appropriate for the ritual. I agree with King, especially since the ritual life of an Assyrian king was highly developed and traditional, and while surely the king could have introduced a foreign ritual, it is hard to imagine his motivation for doing so in a religious system so reliant on tradition and continuity. The introduction of a ritual that belongs to a foreign theology does not seem characteristic. 127  However, the presence of Phoenician and Syrian ivories and cups in Assyrian cities, beginning in the 9th century BCE (Winter 1977, 375), does attest a Neo-Assyrian interest in West Semitic luxury goods, and the appearance of a Neo-Assyrian king engaged in a behaviour very similar to the actions of one engaged in a marzēaḥ indicates a Neo-Assyrian interest in West Semitic elite behaviour. To adopt a behaviour such as a dining posture is not to adopt the ritual of which it is a part. In considering the impact of one artistic tradition upon another, Irene Winter states that the process can involve “at one extreme, the transfer of motifs or elements without any understanding, or the conscious rejection and complete remodelling of original meanings; at the other extreme, the acceptance of a visual theme along with its contextual significance and the integration of it into the fabric of the embracing culture” (1977, 379). The same is true for the adoption of an element of personal comportment, and in the case of Ashurbanipal’s banquet relief, we are dealing with a variation of the former extreme: the adoption of a foreign motif with a “complete remodelling of original meanings” (Winter 1977, 379).  I suggest a progressive intensification of Neo-Assyrian involvement with Phoenician and Syrian luxury goods and elite behaviour, in concert with their “aggressive policy of military conquest and subjugation” that begins in the ninth century (Gunter 2009, 28). In the reigns of Ashurnasirpal (r.883-859) and Shalmaneser III (r.858-824), large amounts of tribute from Syrian and Phoenician cities appear in Assyria and are consumed by the Assyrian elite, including banqueting equipment such as klínai (Reade 1995, fig. 18, tribute from Phoenicia, ca. 700 BCE) [Fig. 34]. As Assyria comes in more direct control over Syria, Phoenicia, and Cyprus after the campaigns of Tiglath-Pileser III (r.746-727), Shalmaneser V (r.726-722), and Sargon II (r.721-705), the Assyrian governors, now installed in Damascus, 128  have ample opportunities to observe the elite behaviour of the nobles over whom they have control, and the activity of reclined dining in the company of women achieves a level of popularity that causes it to appear in a relief of a victory celebration of Ashurbanipal (r.668-627) sometime after 653 BCE. As I will describe further in the historical summary at the end of this chapter, Neo-Assyrian experience with the cultures of the Levant and Cyprus in the eighth century caused them to take an imperialist interest in the luxuries of the peoples from whom they extracted tribute, and to adapt some of the conquered peoples’ symbols of power and nobility.    Corinth      After the appearance of reclined banqueting in Assyria in the middle of the seventh century, the motif appears next in the art of Corinth. Taking the evidence of reclined banqueting from Corinth chronologically, the first attestation may be the larnax of Kypselos, tyrant of Corinth from 657-627. The larnax, attested only by Pausanias in a description of monuments at Olympia, was made of cedar, gold, and ivory, and was elaborately decorated with narrative scenes. The passage of Pausanias’ Descriptio Graecae begins at 5.17.5 and continues to 5.19.10, with the klínē mentioned at 5.19.7:  ἡ δὲ ἀνωτάτω χώρα—πέντε γὰρ ἀριθμόν εἰσι—παρέχεται μὲν ἐπίγραμμα οὐδέν, λείπεται δὲ εἰκάζειν ἐς τὰ ἐπειργασμένα. εἰσὶν οὖν ἐν σπηλαίῳ γυνὴ καθεύδουσα σὺν ἀνδρὶ ἐπὶ κλίνῃ, καὶ σφᾶς Ὀδυσσέα εἶναι καὶ Κίρκην ἐδοξάζομεν ἀριθμῷ τε τῶν θεραπαινῶν, αἵ εἰσι πρὸ τοῦ σπηλαίου, καὶ τοῖς ποιουμένοις ὑπ’ αὐτῶν· τέσσαρές τε γάρ εἰσιν αἱ γυναῖκες καὶ ἐργάζονται τὰ ἔργα, ἃ ἐν τοῖς ἔπεσιν Ὅμηρος εἴρηκε. 129  The highest field, for they are five in number, provides no inscriptions, and so it remains to interpret it through comparisons. So then, in a cave a woman is lying down with a man on a klínē, and I conjecture that these are Odysseus and Circe because of the number of serving-girls, who are in front of the cave, and because of what they are doing amongst themselves: for the women are four and they are performing tasks that Homer spoke of in his poetry. Pausanias’ description of the larnax, then, provides us an example of a klínē used for reclining by a man and a woman together, but there is no mention of a banquet and this may simple be the use of a klínē as a bed for sleeping or love-making. Comparing it to the passage in the Odyssey Pausanias refers to (Od. 10.345-87), we see that this event is in concert with a banquet, and with bathing and anointing for that matter. Homer’s description of Odysseus going to the bed and bedchamber of Circe involves a number of pieces of furniture, such as a bed, tables for food, and chairs. The serving-girls prepare food and mix wine. The narrative has Odysseus receive the food and drink while seated in a chair, but he has already been in Circe’s bed, and we probably should not draw too fine of a distinction between the action in the chairs and on the klínē. In either case, food and drink are nearby. Rudiger Splitter (2000) devoted a monograph to it, and produced a wonderful image of Pausanias’ description [Fig. 35]. If this object really dates to the time of Kypselos’ forebearers, as Pausanias says (5.18.7), eight hundred years before Pausanias, it is our earliest attestation of reclined banqueting from Mainland Greece. This requires coordinating the evidence for the larnax with evidence from the Odyssey, as Pausanias indicates that the servants attending the couple on the klínē were carrying out the activities of the servants attending Odysseus and Circe in the Odyssey, which include preparing food and serving wine. At any rate, the larnax postdates the Idaean fragments, being about 100 years after 130  them, and, if authentically Kypselid, attests the spread of reclined banqueting in the Dorian Greek world, from Knossos and other centres on Crete to Corinth in the seventh century.  The Greek art traditionally considered to be the earliest Greek representations of reclined banqueting are three Corinthian Column kraters from the Early and Middle Corinthian periods, ca. 620-570 BCE (Dentzer 1982). I consider them to have been decisively displaced in this regard by the Idaean fragments and the North Syrian-style silver bowl with the Cypriot syllabic inscription, which date to the first half of the eighth century and late eighth or early seventh century, respectively. These kraters, being roughly contemporary with Sparta’s Alcman, witness the spread of the practice of reclined banqueting through the Dorian Greek world. There are four preliminary remarks I wish to provide before dealing with the vases individually. The first is that these objects were functional accoutrements of banqueting, that is, reclined banqueting was depicted on objects designed for the distribution of wine at banquets. The second is that none of them may realistically depict actual banqueting practices, but are more likely to depict an aspirational banquet – the banquet as certain Greeks would like to see it or the banquet as it appears in a traditional story. The third is that none of them was found in the Balkan penninsula. These kraters, all of them now in the Louvre, are from Cerveteri (Caere) in Etruria, and they therefore cannot be presumed a priori to have been used by the Etruscans in exactly the way the Greeks would have used such vessels, but they nevertheless attest the practice of reclined banqueting among the Corinthians, who manufactured the kraters. The fourth is that with these Corinthian kraters we have moved into a very well-researched area of Classical scholarship, and we therefore benefit both from relatively secure provenance information and a secure relative chronology that has a quite uncontroversial relationship with 131  approximate absolute chronology (Amyx 1988, 428-9), although this chronology is being challenged by its coordination with Hallstatt C dendrochronology, which has the potential to add fifty to one hundred years to the age of Corinthian Craters (Nijboer 2006). For my purposes these objects require a briefer discussion, since it is quite clear when these Greeks started manufacturing wine-mixing bowls with depictions of reclined banqueting on them. The brevity of the discussion does not relate to the material’s lack of importance, but rather to its uncontroversial nature.  The earliest of the kraters is Louvre E 635, the Eurytios krater [Fig. 36], dated ca. 610-600 BCE, on which Herakles is depicted at a reclined banquet in the palace of Eurytos (written Eurytios on the vase) with Eurytos and his sons and daughter. Accompanying this main scene are a cavalcade of horsemen moving to the right beneath it, a hoplite battle-scene on the reverse, an animal frieze on the rim, a depiction of the suicide of Ajax with Odysseus and Diomedes under a handle-plate, a hunter attacking a stag and doe on one handle plate, and a pair of horsemen on the other handle plate (Amyx 1988, 378). In the banqueting scene, the men recline on klínai, rest on their left elbows, and most of them hold small drinking bowls in their left hands (of comparable shape and size to the North Syrian- and Phoenician-style metal bowls in the MMA). The only woman present, Iolē, stands and seems to be in conversation with her brother, Ϝiphitos, who turns his head to look at her over his shoulder. The woman is completely, even heavily, clothed in a peplos and chiton, while the men wear cloaks that expose their chests. Each klínē is equipped with a dog on a leash tied to the left front leg of the klínē, and a small table containing a larger drinking vessel (skyphos) and a plate with two cone-shaped foodstuffs, which I consider to be breads, as suggested by the Archaic poetic descriptions of symposia. Each klínē has an elaborate cushion, itself 132  reminiscent of a krater, and a fringed textile bedspread. A krater is on a stand to the right behind Herakles, and he holds a cut of meat, prepared by the butchers depicted behind him [Fig. 37]. The important elements of this earliest vase for the development of reclined banqueting are: 1) Only men recline on klínai.  2) The event features both food and wine, with each man getting an equal distribution of food. 3) The event is a mythological banquet, featuring heroic persons each named in an inscription, all of whom fulfill the role either of host or guest.  4) Heracles, the guest, is given the place of honour, next to the krater. 5) The banqueters use small phialai, larger skyphoi, plates, and a krater as their banqueting service. The next two kraters with such depictions are both dated to the Middle Corinthian period, ca. 595-570. On Louvre E 634 [Fig. 38], unnamed male banqueters recline on klínai, before which are footstools, and tables similar to those present on Louvre E 635. The men are depicted similarly to the men on Louvre E 635, their chests seem to be bare, but the area of their chests on the vase shows significant wear. They recline on klínai without visible cushions, and with an elaborately decorated, polka-dot textile bedspread. The table is more elaborate and decorated than on the Eurytios krater, and on it are the same conical foodstuffs placed on a plate, but accompanied on this vase with another type of food, shaped like clog-shoes. These latter may be cuts of meat (roasted, stewed, or smoked), bread, or some type of fruit. On one of the tables is a skyphos, while another man’s table seems to hold a large hemispherical bowl. The phiale is absent. Hanging on the wall to the left and behind each 133  man is a stylized set of equipment, which seems to be intended to represent a quiver, a bow, and a sword in a scabbard. The greater variety of food displayed, combined with the assemblage of weapons and the absence of women, indicates that this event takes place in the aftermath of a hunt, although it could also depict a meal in a war-camp. The latter is unlikely due to the more elaborate furniture and wider variety of food on Louvre E 634 than is depicted on the Eurytios krater, which is a meal in a wealthy man’s house. The depiction, of course, does not have to be a realistic depiction of an actual event, and is more likely to be an aspirational or mythical one. The important aspects of this vase for the development of reclined banqueting are the following: 1) Only men participate, and they recline. 2) Each man gets an equal distribution of food. 3) The drinking vessels used differ from man to man. 4) With this and the other Middle Corinthian vase, we see the introduction of the  footstool. 5) No man is identified as symposiarch, or honoured guest. The last of the vases which constitute the earliest depictions of reclined banqueting in Corinthian art is a Middle Corinthain column krater by the Athana painter (Amyx 1988, 386), Louvre E 629 [Fig. 39]. This is a remarkable vase, and among depictions of reclined banqueting, is the first but one, the Phoenician-style bronze bowl from Salamis BM 1892/5-19/1, which depicts women reclining on klínai with men. Here, each klínē is occupied by a man and a woman, both resting on their left elbows on cushions similar to those on the Eurytios vase. Sometimes the man is fully clothed, sometimes his chest is exposed. All the women expose their chests, and some make a gesture with their right hands which covers 134  their breasts. They recline on a thick, undecorated mattress, atop klínai with highly ornate carved legs with a combination of geometric and lotus designs, or with a lion-head design. Such designs may be carved or painted on actual klínai, and may be intended to mimic ivory inlay, but I think the images are too large to be depictions of actual ivory inlay. Some of the men hold what seem to be metal hemispherical bowls with radiating petal design like the one held by the seated queen in the Ashurbanipal relief. Before the klínai are simple tables and ornate footstools with textile coverings, and each table holds one of these bowls with radiating petal design on the right-hand side. Each table contains a plate with three conical foodstuffs, to the left of which are two pieces of the clog-shoe shaped food. To the left and behind each couple are items hanging on the wall: a chelys-lyra and either a crested military helmet, an ornate shield, or a combined breastplate and cuirass. This krater therefore combines militarism, musical performance, food and wine, sexuality, and a banqueting ethos that insists on equality among the men and among the women, but not equality between the men and women. The important aspects of this vase for the history of reclined banqueting are the following: 1. Men and women recline together on couches. 2. Each couple gets an equal distribution of food. 3. Both men and women may hold drinking vessels, and the vessels do not differ. 4. With this and the other Middle Corinthian vase, we see the introduction of the  footstool. 5. Music accompanies the banquet, and only men are depicted holding lyres. This set of Early and Middle Corinthian kraters are the earliest objects manufactured on the Greek Mainland that depict reclined banqueting, but, as I have demonstrated above, 135  they are far from the earliest representations that survive in the Greek-speaking world. They appear about 100 years after the Phoenician-style Cypriot bowl MMA 71.54.4555, and about 150 years later than the likely manufacture of the Syrian-style Cypriot bowl MMA 71.54.4557, with the Cypriot syllabic inscription, and the Idaean fragments depicting klínai. It is clear for stylistic reasons that these kraters were made by Corinthian artists, but they were found in Cerveteri in Etruria. This fact places them in a category with many other Greek vases that were better preserved in Etruria because of the way they were used by the Etruscans; they were buried in graves. The difference in the treatment of kraters such as these in Greece and Etruria, which led to their preservation in Etruria, requires analysis. They were better preserved in Etruria because the Etruscans treated the kraters differently than the Greeks, and this means that the assumptions we can make about the vessel shape and its function among the Greeks (a wine-mixing bowl) can only be applied tentatively to its use among the Etruscans. The Etruscans could have put the kraters to a much different use while they were above ground, as they did when they buried them in graves. I think that they very likely were used for banqueting, because of their shape and the depictions on them, but the krater as the companion of the symposion where wine was mixed and distributed according to certain sensibilities does not apply to the Etruscan context. They may have drunk the wine unmixed, or may each have kept a krater at their table, and may not have served all banqueters from the same bowl, despite what we see on the Eurytios krater.    136  Etruria A discussion of of the Corinthian kraters found at Cerveteri is a fitting prelude to an account of the earliest depictions of reclined banqueting in Etruria. It was long thought that the architectural terra-cotta frieze plaque found in Poggio Civitate, Murlo, just a decade after the Eurytios krater, and at the same time as the Middle Corinthian kraters, was the earliest depiction of reclined banqueting in Italy. The Corinthian kraters indicated that the Etruscans were interested in foreign objects with depictions of reclined banqueting, and the plaque from Murlo indicated that local Etruscan artists, drawing on a complex mixture of influences from local, Greek, and Levantine traditions (Haynes 2000, 120), began to represent themselves reclined at the banquet around 600 BCE.  The date of the advent of reclined banqueting into Etruscan art has recently been raised by twenty to thirty years by the lid of a funerary urn, published in 2005 (Maggiani and Paolucci), found in a grave at Tolle, near Chiusi, securely dated to 630-620 BCE [Fig. 40]. It is very fragmentary, but clearly shows the image of a banqueter reclining alone, as was to become popular on Etruscan sarcophagi much later. It has been interpreted by Annette Rathje as part of the process whereby the Etruscans adopted “[m]aterial objects and perishable goods, as well as foreign customs and new ideas” from Greece, the Near East, and Egypt (2013, 824). This object highlights the importance of Etruria in the development of reclined banqueting: not only is the earliest Etruscan representation of the practice earlier than the first surviving representation produced in mainland Greece, but those Corinthian craters were preserved because of their deposition in Etruscan tombs. Considering the early dates of Greek and Phoenician activity in Italy and the Tyrrhenian (at the latest, late ninth 137  century for the Phoenicians, early eighth century for the Greeks), we should not imagine the Greek adaptation of reclined banqueting as a bilateral exchange with a West Semitic population, but rather situate it in a cultural milieu where Greeks (including Cypriots, Euboeans and Cretans), Phoenicians, and Etruscans were open to exchange with one another (Malkin 1998, 167), and in which Etruscan enthusiasm for foreign banqueting customs could have played a role in the adaptation of reclined banqueting by certain Greeks.    The object that used to be considered the earliest Etruscan representation of reclined banqueting, before the publication of the Tolle urn, is one of four terra-cotta frieze plaques that decorated the Archaic Building Complex at Poggio Civitate, Murlo, which was built between 650-575, to use conventional dates which have not been correlated to Hallstatt C dendrochronology, on the site of an Orientalizing building which had burned down (Haynes 2000, 120). It is currently in Murlo, Antiquarium Comunale, and is most completely published in Stopponi 1985 (Tav. 3-407; 3-413; 3-414) [Fig. 41]. On the frieze plaque, we see male and female banqueters reclining two-to-a- klínē as they do on Louvre E 629, while servants bring drinks and attend to the banqueters. Two klínai are depicted, therefore four banqueters. The klínai have a thick textile or animal skin draped over one side to serve as a cushion, whereas the second banqueter on the klínē rests on a smaller cushion and partly on the legs of the first, creating an intimate association between the two. Before the klínai stand tables holding spheroid food on plates and drinking vessels, both hemispherical bowls and skyphoi. As on the Eurytios krater, there are no footstools but rather dogs tied by leashes beneath the klínai. The banqueter on the far right of the plaque plays a lyre, which is difficult to see, and some of the details of the instrument must have been painted on. To his or her left, a man drinks from a hemispherical bowl, of a type well know from the Levant 138  (Rathje 2013, 824; Rathje 1994, 97). Between the two klínai, two female servants stand on either side of a tripod holding a krater, and seem to be serving the banqueters from the krater. On the left extreme of the plaque, a male servant brings a hemispherical bowl and a pouring jug. This plaque was mounted on a building, in some sort of association with three others, which depicted a mounted horse race, a group of men seated in chairs holding staffs of authority and being attended by servants, and a couple seated in a cart being pulled by horses quite like the image on the Phoenician-style silver bowl MMA 74.51.4555. All of the plaques seem to be part of the same narrative scene related to a festive event.  The Murlo frieze is a remarkable object, interesting for its interpretation of the reclined banqueting motif in an architectural way in the central Mediterrnean, because we have no evidence that the Greeks or Phoenicians were doing this at the time. The Greek and Phoenician representations tended to be on small objects associated with the banquet, or otherwise in poetry, which, in its way, is also associated with reclined banqueting in the Greek and West Semitic cultural spheres (Morris 2000, 166-8, 182; Kistler 1998, 129-41). To dedicate a portion of a finely sculpted, architectural relief, to the reclined banquet signifies both the importance of the banquet and the importance of the building which the frieze adorned. Almost certainly, the celebration depicted on the frieze-plaques were related to the building (Rathje 2013, 825-6). The most remarkable thing about reclined banqueting in Etruria, however, is not the Murlo frieze, but the immense popularity the practice achieved in the art of Etruria. The impressive wall-paintings in Etruscan tombs, which make their first appearance in 680 BCE, incorporated reclined banqueting shortly after the date of the Murlo frieze, and later, in the Hellenistic period, hundreds of sarcophagi were manufactured that featured a single reclined banqueter on their lids, in what can now be 139  viewed as an aggrandizement of the iconographical practice seen on the urn from Tolle. Beginning in Tolle and Murlo, the reclined banquet appeared in the art, especially tomb-paintings, of most major Etruscan centres by 500 BCE, notably Veii and Chiusi.  As a number of scholars have pointed out, Etruscan interest in Greek and Levantine practices and objects did not result from a random selection of items based on what foreigners had to offer, but rather is the result of some ideas and objects appealing to the Etruscans’ preexisting notions about themselves and their culture (Rathje 2013, 824; Izzet 2007, 212; Spivey 1992; Arafat and Morgan 1994), and therefore, the appearance of reclined banqueting on a cinerary urn from Tolle, on Corinthian pots in Cerveteri, or on an architectural frieze from Murlo does not represent an Etruscan adoption of the Greek symposion, the Phoenician marzēaḥ, or Assyrian royal ritual (Rathje 2010, 23-4; Izzet 2007, 213; Small 1994). We must permit the Etruscans to have their own banqueting traditions beyond the notions of Hellenization and Orientalization. Nevertheless, the appearance of reclined banqueting in Etruria in the second half of the seventh century is the result of influence from Greeks and Phoenicians and its creative adaptation by Etruscans (Nijboer 2013), but it is not possible to determine whether Greeks or Phoenicians provided the model of reclined banqueting which the Etruscans followed, since both the Greeks and Phoenicians were active in the areas just South and West of Etruria for more than 100 years before the first Etruscan depiction of a reclined banquet appears in Tolle, and the fuller depiction on the Murlo frieze replicates exactly neither Greek nor Phoenician banqueting practice, but is an amalgam of Greek, Phoenician, and local features.  140  Sicily The last of the areas to be considered in this study of the emergence of the reclined banquet is the island of Sicily. Further West, the earliest evidence for the practice appears well into the Classical period, or in the Hellenistic period, and they are therefore outside of the chronological boundaries of my study, which focuses on multicultural banqueting at a time when convivial behaviour may have influenced the shape and development of Archaic Greek society, and evidence of multicultural banqueting from the fifth century onwards cannot be used in such argumentation. Greeks founded settlements on Sicily in the eighth century, notably Syracuse and Megara Hyblaia, and the Phoenicians did likewise, notably Motya and Panormus, and this creates a difficult situation for the interpretation of Sicilian evidence for reclined banqueting, because it is very likely that the Greeks and Phoenicians settling Sicily already practised some form of it. In this section, I focus on the appearance of the motif among the non-Greek, non-Phoenician population of the island – the Sikels, Sikans, and Elymians – because I have already accounted for its earliest appearances among Greeks and Phoenicians. Both of these latter groups brought some form of the practice with them to Sicily, and, as Franco De Angelis has pointed out, the native Sicilian populations integrated quickly with the newcomers on the coasts, through both cooperation and coercion (2010, 36-8). The earliest appearance of the reclined banqueting motif among the non-Greek, non-Phoenician populations of Sicily appears probably at the end of the sixth century BCE, fifty years after its appearance on Corinthian kraters and on the Murlo frieze, and immediately before the chronological boundary of this study. In the indigenous settlement at Castellazzo 141  di Poggioreale in Elymian territory, whose ancient name we do not know, two ceramic figurines were deposited in a tomb dating to the end of the sixth century, with the cemetery dating to the seventh and sixth centuries. Both are of Greek manufacture, but deposited in an indigenous tomb in an indigenous settlement, in which the influence of Greek terracotta figurines is limited to these two objects (Gaspari 2009, 165). We can therefore say that this population was hardly “Hellenized” and that the figurines were put to indigenous use. But, this evidence must be treated with caution, because it is not so qualitatively different from Corinthian kraters in Cerveteri, and I did not consider those as evidence for the adoption of reclined banqueting among the Etruscans, although they may well be. The figure depicting reclined banqueting is in the Museo Archeologico Regionale di Palermo, 21920/2 [Fig. 42] (Gasparri 2009, 162, n. 61, Fig. 3). It depicts a man reclining alone on a klínē or on a mattress meant to lay on the ground, since the piece of furniture on which the man reclines has no legs, but this may be related to the expediencies of manufacture. He rests his left elbow on a cushion and faces to the front, instead of the standard representation where the men face to the left or look behind themselves to the right. He therefore does not rest on his buttocks but on his left hip, and his knees face to the front. In his left hand he holds what is probably a drinking bowl, and at any rate his left hand is in the posture appropriate for holding such a vessel. The second figure found in the tomb does not depict reclining but is nevertheless relevant for the practice of reclined banqueting. This figure is female, cloaked in a mantle and fixed on a rectangular base, in the Museo Archeologico Regionale di Palermo, 21920/1. What is important here is that these two Greek figurines were deposited together and should bear some relation to one another; thus, in a way, the man does not banquet alone, but in the company of a female who does not recline. 142  The most important thing to keep in mind about these figurines is that, although of Greek manufacture, the stimulus which caused the Elymian to acquire them may have been in no way Greek. He may have become interested in reclined banqueting from the Phoenicians/Carthaginians who were his closer, and more closely allied neighbours. He, if indeed the inhabitant of the tomb is male, may then have acquired the terra cottas on travels he made to other, more Greek, Sicilian cities, or the objects could have been brought as trade items to Castellazzo di Poggioreale, although I think this is not very likely, since these two are the only Greek terra cottas found at the site. The practice of reclined banqueting among the indigenous population of Sicily appears also at Morgantina, in eastern Central Sicily. Here, two objects were found which strongly suggest that Sikels were participating in such banquets in the mid-late sixth century. A fine Attic red figured volute krater [Fig. 43], attributed by Beazley to Euthymides, decorated with the Amazonomachy of Heracles and a symposium scene (Neils 1995, 427), with some figures bearing inscriptions, was found by the Princeton University team on Serra Orlando in the 1958 season in a destruction fill dated to the middle of the fifth century (Stillwell 1959, 172) at Cittadella, the site of the Archaic settlement (Neils 1995, 427). The krater is dated by style to 515 BCE (Neils 1995, 437). The sympotic image depicts a bearded man reclined on a pillow accompanied by a beardless youth playing the auloi. Everyone in this scene reclines but the specificities of the klínai are never depicted. We never see the legs of the furniture. Both men wear laurel crowns. The bearded man rests his left arm on a pillow, but turns his body to angle his head toward the floor, holding his left shoulder with his right hand, in a posture of extreme drunkenness and sickness. A basket hangs between him and the youth. A bearded man to the left of the aforementioned couple turns toward the 143  flute-playing youth behind him. A basket hangs above and to the left of him. To the left of this man is a bearded lyre-player, who reclines with his lyre and faces left towards two men who recline and drink from kylikes. Behind the lyre-player is the inscription Sosia, and behind each of the two symposiasts to his left is an inscription Chaire.  Morgantina was founded as a continuous settlement by a mixed Italian and Sicilian population in the tenth century (Antonaccio 1997, 168), and Greek influence appears at the site in the seventh century, and steadily increases until the city’s destruction, probably by Duketios, in 459 BCE. An Attic krater depicting reclined banqueting is not out of place in late sixth century Morgantina, and it is certainly evidence that the native Sikels were aware of this banqueting practice. The second object which demonstrates awareness of the symposion, but not explicitly of reclining, is the grafitto on a sherd of a Laconian krater found at Morgantina and published by Antonaccio and Neils (1995). The type of krater from which the sherd comes is dated from 550-500 BCE, therefore contemporary with the Attic krater described above and the terracotta from Castellazzo di Poggioreale. This sherd was found on the surface, and bears an inscriptions reading kuparas emi. The name is native Sikel, not Greek, and likely in the genitive case. The verb is likely Greek, but may even be a Sikel form of ‘to be’ (Antonaccio and Neils 1995, 268). The important thing about this object is that it demonstrates native Sikel adaptation of a Greek and Phoenician practice that is characteristic of events which involve reclined banqueting, that is, some vessels designed for the consumption and distribution of wine are marked with inscriptions of their ownership or to whom they are dedicated. The fact that the inscription appears on a krater has obvious significance, and Antonaccio and Neils say that the location of other vessels of this type indicate that convivial rituals were an important part of civic life at Morgantina, since the 144  kraters are found “in close proximity to the major buildings in the center of the archaic city” (1995, 266).  It is clear from the evidence presented above that, in the sixth century, the native populations of Sicily adapted the reclined banquet to their use after having encountered the practice among the Greek and Phoencians who were settling the coasts of the island. This is, of course, not the first appearance of the reclined banquet on Sicily; both the Greek and Phoencian populations who settled Sicily in the eighth century already had this form of conviviality as an important aspect of their social, political, and religious lives, and they would have continued the practice wherever they built their settlements.   Historical Synthesis of the Development of Reclined Banqueting in the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia from the Eighth to the Sixth Century BCE The story of the spread of the practice of reclined banqueting through areas of the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia begins with the Phoenician expansion and with Assyria, not because Assyria provides the origin of the practice, but rather because it provides stimulus for the movement of peoples around the Mediterranean, and was itself an avid instigator of cultural contact, both friendly and hostile. I am not interested in the ultimate origins of the practice of reclined banqueting since this will likely tell us nothing about multicultural banqueting in the first half of the first millennium BCE. Hypothesized by Fehr (1971) to have originated with Near Eastern nomads, and rightly updated by Baughan’s 145  observation (2013) that the practice is at home among the royalty of Near Eastern city states, my study focuses on how this practice was adapted by cultures around the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia in the formative period of Archaic Greek culure and society, in the eighth and seventh centuries BCE. The Phoenician expansion begins in the twelfth century, in the wake of the Late Bronze Age collapse, with journeys near and far, to Cyprus and Spain, followed by visits to Sardinia and Crete in the tenth century (Gubel 2006, 87; Negbi 1992, 607-10; 1 Kings 10:22, of Hiram and Solomon; 1 Kings 22:49-50, 2 Chronicles 20:35-7, of ninth century Judahite kings). It is possible that already at this early date, Phoenician royals were marking their elite status with the expression of ease and luxury that is reclined banqueting, as suggested by Nijboer (2013) based on the evidence of warrior feasting funerary equipment uncovered in Lebanon. However, the explicit evidence for this practice begins in the first half of the eighth century, almost simultaneously, with the Cretan votive shields from Mt. Ida and the prophecy of Amos relating to the elites of Samaria, followed by its appearance in the second half of the eighth century on metalwork in the North Syrian style (MMA 74.51.4557) and in the Phoenician style (MMA 74.51.4555), consumed by a Cypriot (either Phoenician-speaking or Greek-speaking) clientele. Unlike the votive shields and the text of Amos, these objects from the second half of the eighth century were likely intended for use at banquets similar to those depicted on them, where individuals are shown drinking from bowls (paterae or phialae) of the same shape as the decorated bowls. Therefore, leaving aside origins and the possibility that the practice existed in Phoenicia long before clear evidence for it, the historical window for the adaptation of reclined banqueting by various elite groups in the Mediterranean and Mesopotamia opens at the 146  beginning of the eighth century [Fig. 44] and is therefore entwined with the geopolitical expansion of Assyria. Maria Aubet, in The Phoenicians and the West, states that it has been a commonplace in scholarship to ascribe most of the credit for the Phoenician expansion to the pressure placed on the coastal cities by the Assyrians, as they expanded their empire under Ashurnasirpal (r.883-859), Shalmaneser III (r.858-824), and Adad-nirari III (r. 810-783) (1993, 50), before advancing her own multivalent theory for the expansion that ascribes only partial credit to the Assyrians (1993, 68-74). We have seen that the Phoenician expansion begins at the end of the Late Bronze Age, and is therefore not motivated by an expanding Assyria. However, for the adaptation of the reclined banquet in the eighth century, the pressures of Assyria on the coastal Mediterranean are relevant. In the ninth-seventh centuries BCE, tribute from Syrian and Phoenician cities appears in Assyria and is consumed by the Assyrian elite. Adad-nirari III even resided in Damascus, for the purpose of receiving tribute from the subject Phoenician cities (Aubet 1993, 70). With the reigns and military campaigns of Tiglath-Pileser III (r.746-727), Shalmaneser V (r.726-722), and Sargon II (r.721-705), the Assyrians come into more direct control over Syria, Phoenicia, Palestine, and Cyprus. This control would have provided the Assyrian officials in the conquered territories ample opportunities to observe the elite behaviour of the nobles over whom they had some control. I argue that it was in this context that the practice of reclined banqueting achieved a level of popularity that caused it to appear on a relief depicting a victory celebration in a private area of Ashurbanipal’s (r. 668-627) palace at Nineveh sometime after 653 BCE. At the same time, at Tell Sukas in Phoenicia, there is def