Preface
S my programmatic article ‘The Rise of the Greek Epic’ (JHS 108
(1988), 151–72) much of my work has been related to the Homeric poems
and the tradition behind them. My 1997 opus The East Face of Helicon began
as an investigation of the extent to which that tradition was modified under
the influence of Near Eastern poetry, though in the event the volume grew
to take in more than Homer. The present work may also be seen as part of a
series of ‘Prolegomena to Homer’, or, if you like, to Greek literature.
However, Greece is not here the central point of reference. My subject is the
Indo-European poetic and narrative tradition as a whole, and while Greek
poetry supplies part of the evidence, it is not itself the object of inquiry. That
is one reason why it would not have been appropriate to call the book The
North Face of Helicon. Another reason is that a different kind of relationship is
involved. Helicon, once it was colonized by the Muses, did face east and did
not face north; the Indo-European element was a heritage from the past, not a
continuing irradiation.
It remains the case that I write as a professional Hellenist, as much an
amateur in Indo-European studies as in oriental. I have furnished myself
with a working knowledge of some of the relevant languages. I have explored
the literatures, roaming far and wide through unfamiliar landscapes, some
rugged, some lush, a stranger in Paradise with a clipboard. But when it
comes to the reconstruction of proto-Indo-European roots constipated with
hypothetical laryngeals, I defer to the authority of the pundits –– those black-
belt analysts whom I personally hold in the highest admiration, but whom
some may view as the unreadable in pursuit of the unpronounceable.
Specialists may look askance at my practice of quoting the Vedic texts
with punctuation and capitalized initials for names, and adjusting them as
necessary to restore the metre where it has suffered in transmission. I see no
merit in the convention of transcribing the verses exactly as transmitted in
thesam
̇
hita ̄ text, that is, often unmetrically (where it is obvious that an older
form has given way to a newer one) and with no punctuation to guide the
reader. We do not do this with Greek or Latin texts; why do it with Indian
ones? It may be argued that punctuation and capitalization prejudice the
interpretation. But if one is going to make use of a text, one must at some
point come to an opinion on its articulation and interpretation; usually this
will be uncontroversial, and in any case it is only reasonable to share it with
the reader, using the means customary with texts in other languages.