[In the essay below, Lattimore reviews Pindar's life and career.]

Concerning the life of Pindar we can be sure only of the bare outlines, together with certain general facts. There is no sound biographical tradition for his period. It will perhaps be best to ignore anecdotes, guesses, and combinations which cannot be confirmed, and to state briefly what seems to be established. Pindar was born a citizen of Thebes, the chief city of the Boiotian confederacy, probably in 518 B.C. The date of his death is unknown; but the last work of his for which we have a date is the "Eighth Pythian," for a victory won in 446 B.C. His first dated ode is the "Tenth Pythian" of 498 B.C. Thus, he lived to an advanced age. We may be sure that he was of aristocratic birth. The simple list of his contracts indicates that he was a professional poet of great repute, and as such he must have earned a great deal. The rest of his biography must be pieced out from the contents and implications of his poems, many of which are dated.

Pindar lived through a period of crucial change in Greek history. His life is bisected by the great Persian invasion of 480-478 B.C., a war in which Thebes, split within by factional rivalries, played a difficult and unhappy part. Against the forces of Xerxes, the combined Greek command chose to defend central Greece by holding the mountain pass of Thermopylai and the sea pass of Artemision. The Persians forced them to give up both positions. Theban soldiers had fought beside Leonidas at Thermopylai—badly, according to Herodotus, but he is prejudiced and may be wrong. In any case, when the Greek armies fell back on the Isthmos of Korinth and the fleet on Salamis, Boiotia and all other states to the north were left open to the enemy; nor had the Thebans the opportunity, as did the Athenians, to evacuate their population by sea. Thebes gave in, the city was in the hands of the Persians and Persian sympathizers, and the Persian general, Mardonios, made it his base of operations. At Plataia, where the invaders were finally defeated and forced to withdraw, a Theban contingent fought on the Persian side. What part, if any, Pindar played in all this is not known; but for some years after Plataia he was a citizen of a dishonored state. Parallels from more recent wars are only too obvious, and it should be understandable if a certain bitterness over this defeat and betrayal, and over the attitudes of more fortunate states with better war records, remained with Pindar. Of the cities which fought the Persians, Athens in particular emerged from the struggle with greatly augmented prestige and strength. Pindar is said to have studied at Athens and undoubtedly had many friends there; but his openly avowed admiration for Athenian achievement must have been tempered with resentment even before the Athenians, in or about 457 B.C., temporarily deprived the Thebans of their leadership in Boiotia.

As a professional poet, Pindar traveled much, and his acquaintance was singularly wide. His poems (including the fragments) show connections in all the leading Greek states of his day and with many small cities as well. Among these external relations there are several which are of particular importance. He wrote several poems in honor of Hieron, tyrant (that is, dictator) of Syracuse in Sicily, and considered that ruthless, gifted, successful ruler to be his friend. In Greek history aristocrats are not regularly found on the side of tyrants; but Pindar thought he saw in Hieron a champion of Greek civilization against the dark forces of barbarism ["Pythian 1"] and a ruler intelligent enough to use his vast power toward ultimate good. Pindar himself visited Sicily, and his works show acquaintance with other prominent Sicilians, including Theron, tyrant of Akragas, and, in particular, Theron's nephew, Thrasyboulos.

Another important external connection is Pindar's friendship with various noble families in Aigina, a Dorian islandstate across the water from Athens. The friendship between Thebes and Aigina was close, and in legend the nymphs Thebe and Aigina were said to be sisters. Pindar has left us eleven odes for Aiginetan victors—almost onefourth of the total number—and did not weary of singing the praises of their special heroes, the Aiakidai: Aiakos and his sons, Peleus and Telamon, and their sons, Achilles and Aias (Ajax). The Aiginetans, famous seafarers who distinguished themselves at Salamis, were also victims of Athenian imperialism (their state was liquidated by Athens during the Peloponnesian War), and it is tempting to see in "Pythia 8" a protest against the pretensions of the Athenian democracy led by Perikles. Yet, if this is true, toomany conclusions concerning Pindar's political views should not be recklessly drawn. Despite certain aristocratic prejudices, he belonged (apparently) to no faction; when he speaks of states, he generally speaks only to praise; and he considers himself to be in sympathy with all intelligent and well-meaning men, whatever their city.

Of Pindar's works, only the epinician, or victory, odes have survived almost intact, although the fragments show that he wrote much besides. The victory odes commemorate the success of a winner in the games or athletic meets held at regular intervals from very early times down to the Roman period. There were four great games: the Olympian, at Pisa in Elis, sacred to Zeus; the Pythian, at Pytho (Delphoi), sacred to Apollo; the Isthmian, at the Isthmos of Korinth, sacred to Poseidon; and the Nemean, at Nemea in the Péloponnèse, sacred to Zeus. Of these, the Olympian games were the oldest and most honorable. In addition, there were numerous local games, in which success also brought considerable acclaim; many of these are named in poems for famous champions, such as Diagoras of Rhodes or Xenophon of Korinth. The events included races for four-horse chariot, mule chariot, and single (ridden) horse; foot races at various distances; contests in boxing, wrestling, and the pankration (a combination of the two); and the pentathlon, a complex event which involved racing, jumping, throwing the discus and javelin, and wrestling. It must be understood that in all horse and chariot races the "victor" was the person who entered horse or team; he was not required to ride or drive in person.

Pindar's peculiar excellence seems to have lain in the composition of victory odes; they may well have been his favorite form. The modern reader will always wonder why. There are several considerations. In the first place, the games were occasions of high sanctity, held in holy places, and protected by a truce of God, invoked to secure free competition; it will be seen that every epinician wears, in one place or another, the attributes of a hymn. Further, success meant a demonstration of wealth and power (particularly in the chariot races) or of superb physical prowess, shown through peaceful and harmless means. The very uselessness of these triumphs, which aroused the contemptuous anger of Xenophanes and Euripides, might have attracted Pindar. A victory meant that time, expense, and hard work had been lavished on an achievement which brought no calculable advantage, only honor and beauty. This may sound somewhat romantic, but competition symbolized an idea of nobility which meant much to Pindar; and in the exaltation of victory he seems sometimes to see a kind of transfiguration, briefly making radiant a world which most of the time seemed, to him as to his contemporaries, dark and brutal.

The occasion and circumstances of the ode must have been somewhat as follows: When a victory was won, the victor (or his family or some wealthy friend) commissioned the poet to write the commemorative ode. When this was complete, a choir of men or boys (probably amateurs and friends of the victor, in some cases) was trained to sing it. The true presentation of the ode was, then, a performance given for the victor and his friends some time after the event. (In the case of very short odes, such as "Olympia 11" or "Pythia 7" it has been commonly thought that they were composed immediately and presented before the festival was over, but for this I know of no actual evidence.) Pindar himself was not always present at the performance, nor did he always train the choir. In commissioning, some sort of agreement or contract was made. This contract may often have concerned not only the poet's fee but also various matters which the person who paid for the ode desired to have included, such as, for instance, mythical allusions to be made or details concerning the victor or his family. Thus, when we find Pindar being rather tediously exact about the exploits of brothers, uncles, cousins, or remote ancestors of his hero, we must remember that all this may have been stipulated in the contract. At other times he was doubtless given a free hand.

Concerning the form of the ode, there has been much discussion. This is not the place for me to set forth a thesis or to defend one in detail; I shall simply state what I take to be the general principles of composition. The poet had before him certain matters which must be included: the name of the victor, the place of the victory with some allusion to the protective deity of the place, one or more stories or episodes from heroic legend (in all but the very short odes), or any further elaboration which was called for in the contract or suggested itself to the poet. Above all, it was necessary to make a beginning. He may begin with an invocation addressed to a god or a city etc; with a comparison or simile with a wish ["Pythian 3"]; with a direct address to the victor or a statement of the poet's own position and obligations or with various combinations of the above motives. From such a formal opening he proceeds by way of compliment and acknowledgment to the rest of his material. The manner is that of an improvisation, so that (for example) a myth is generally introduced as if it were not foreplanned but suggested out of the immediate context. How much of this forward development represents actual method, how much means only a contrived appearance of improvisation, it is impossible to say, except for this proviso: good poems move of themselves, and the poet's combinations do surprise him into new combinations which he had not foreseen.

Since it is normal to speak of the victor at the beginning, either in or immediately after the invocation, and since it is natural also to end with the victor or with persons close to him, the natural place for the myth or episode out of heroic legend—that part of the material most remote from the present—is in the center. But here, as always, there is no hard-and-fast rule. In "Nemea 1" and "10" the myth runs from the middle of the poem right to the close. In "Pythia 3" and "9" we come to the myth at, or near, the beginning. Again, in "Pythia 1" (as also elsewhere) there is no one myth, but various mythical descriptions and allusions are scattered throughout the ode.

Nothing could be more deceptive than to emphasize too much the parts of the poem (invocation, personal compliment, prayer, moral, myth) as sharply distinct elements which must be bound together by transitional ties. It is better to admit that the transitional passages, such as moralities, wishes, comparisons, may grow directly out of what precedes and may generate what follows. Consider, first, for example, the beginning of "Pythia 10," probably the earliest ode. Pindar's opening note is the happiness of Thessaly (and of Lakedaimon, a foil to show how happy Thessaly is). After brief self-adjuration, he gathers up the elements of the victory, in naming the winner, his home, the place of the contest; then proceeds, via the victory of Hippokleas' father and Apollo's favor, to prayer that such successes may continue unbroken and the gods' favor be constant. Yet no mortal can always be happy, though the success of father and son after him symbolizes such fortune as can be attained by men, beyond whose reach lies the almost superhuman happiness of the Hyperboreans. Through these moralities thought is swung against counterthought until the illustrative name, Hyperboreans, chimes the keynote of the myth, which follows. Here invocation, occasion, victor, prayer, moral, and myth are more or less discernible elements, though the development is so smooth that we pass naturally, even unconsciously, from one stage to another (here, as often, the return from myth to occasion and victor is less happily accomplished). Contrast, now "Pythia 8," the latest datable ode. This opens with invocation of Hesychia, the goddess of peacefulness, tranquillity, or civic concord, who is besought to accept the song in honor of Aristomenes, the victor. But peace and justice evoke, by way of contrast, hatred and violence, as embodied in giant rebels, Porphyrion and Typhon. Their fall came about at the hands of Zeus and Apollo; and Apollo, lord of Pytho, brings us once more to the victory, the victor, and Aigina. Invocation, victor, myth, moral, and warning are inextricably intertwined. This is no fusion of parts but an organic development from the idea of Hesychia and the presenceof Aristomenes, compounded by the fact that Hesychia means, not only civic tranquillity, but also the calm of trium phant repose after a struggle.

There are also many mythical passages which were doubtless forecast in advance and which are to some extent self-subsistent entities. The best example is the story of Jason in "Pythia 4," which opens formally and closes not through overlapping phrase but through an abrupt, conscious summary and an equally formal and conscious return to the victor, Arkesilas. Even in such "pure" myths, Pindar hardly tells a story, for he assumed that the outlines of legend were generally familiar to his listeners; rather, he lights up some intense moment, or series of moments, in a tale already known.

Further, although embarrassment over the terms of hire and the status of the poet as a paid entertainer may break to the surface, Pindar likes to appear as one who writes as he pleases, being the friend and equal of his patrons. These allowed the great man much liberty. Thus he feels free to moralize as he will, even in the middle of a myth; to correct himself in midprogress; to talk to himself; to defend his own position and policies ["Pythian 9, 11"; "Nemian 7, 8"]; to make entirely personal acknowledgments. And here, perhaps, is one more reason for Pindar's devotion to the epinician ode; it gave him a starting point from which he could evolve, within certain limits, almost any sort of variation on the choral ode, and, at the same time, a firm point of reference to which he could always return.

Pindar's odes are generally cast in triads, each triad consisting of two identical stanzas, called "strophe" and "antistrophe," followed by a third which is different, called "epode." In any given poem, all triads are identical. In a few of the odes there are no triads but a series of identical stanzas. Such odes are called "monostrophic." The meters are exceedingly complex.

The obscurity commonly attributed to Pindar is partly due to his allusiveness, that is, his habit of plunging obliquely into legendary matter or personal compliment where we have lost the clues. Also, his work is at times formidably studded with proper names. These cannot be excised, and the translator can only furnish a glossary and hope that his readers will be patient enough to use it when they need to. Another inherent difficulty is stylistic. Sentences are long, main verbs often hang fire, shifts of subject or emphasis may be sudden. Even so, Pindar is never quite so difficult as Browning, Shelley, or for that matter Thucydides can be; but where the new reader finds that he cannot make sense, he may feel sure that he is dealing with a passage which has perplexed scholars, and probably also the poet's own listeners. At his dazzling best, Pindar is perfectly clear.