1. The following works will be cited hereafter by author’s name only: Biggs, Penelope, ‘The Disease Theme in Sophocles’ Ajax, Philoctetes, and Trachiniae,’ CP 61 (1966) 223–235Google Scholar; Grossmann, Gustav, ‘Das Lachen des Aias,’ Mus. Helv. 25 (1968) 65–85Google Scholar; Knox, Bernard M. W., ‘The Ajax of Sophocles,’ HSCP 65 (1961) 1–37Google Scholar; Musurillo, Herbert, The Light and the Darkness: Studies in the Dramatic Poetry of Sophocles (Leiden, 1967Google Scholar); Simpson, Michael, ‘Sophocles’ Ajax: His Madness and Transformation,’ Arethusa 2 (1969) 88–103Google Scholar; Vandvik, Eirik, ‘Ajax the Insane,’ SO Suppl. 11 (1942) 169–175Google Scholar; Weinstock, Heinrich, Sophokles (Leipzig/Berlin, 1931Google Scholar); and the commentaries of Lewis Campbell (Oxford, 1881), Jebb, R. C. (Cambridge, 1896Google Scholar), Kamerbeek, J. C. (Leiden, 1953Google Scholar), and Stanford, W. B. (London, 1963Google Scholar). For the text of the play, I have followed the Oxford Classical Text of A. C. Pearson (1924), taking note of variant readings where they seemed important.

2. Apart from Biggs’ important article, most work on the subject has been devoted to the O.T. In particular, see Helmbold, W. C., ‘The Paradox of the Oedipus,’ AJP 72 (1951) 293–300Google Scholar, and Musurillo, Herbert, ‘Sunken Imagery in Sophocles’ Oedipus,’ AJP 78 (1957) 36–51Google Scholar. There is a good study of the sequel by Shields, M. G., ‘Sight and Blindness Imagery in the Oedipus Coloneus,’ Phoenix 15 (1961) 63–73.CrossRefGoogle Scholar

3. This is commonly assumed, but there are enough misconceptions and general vagueness about the precise scope of Ajax’ madness to justify a careful examination of it here. Vandvik and Musurillo regard everything Ajax does, from the attempted murder right up to his suicide, as mad, but their argument rests heavily on their own clinical judgment of his conduct and pays little attention to the language of the play. For Simpson 88–92, the delusion is only a symptom of a more general madness which goes back to the Judgment of Arms. I am much indebted to Simpson on other points, but there are at least two flaws in his arguments here. First, he relies heavily on the idea that the ancient Greeks regarded sanity as dependent on sound vision. This is probably true, but irrelevant: the Greek view makes muddled perceptions the cause of insanity while Simpson makes them an effect. Second, Simpson’s alternative to the view that Ajax’ vision was clouded is that ‘his brain misinterpreted the data his eyes gave it’ (p. 90). This is a very slight distinction, and the importance of having Ajax smitten in the cerebrum rather than in the retina is not apparent. Stanford in his note on Ai. 59 f. says, ‘Athena was not the cause of his madness, only of his delusion’ — as if the two were separate. Cohen, David, ‘The Imagery of Sophocles: A Study of Ajax’s Suicide,’ G&R 25 (1978) 24–36Google Scholar, similarly regards Ajax’ rage and violencejs part of his madness (see especially pages 26 f.). Richard, E.Doyle, S. J., ‘The Concept of ATĒ in Sophoclean Tragedy,’ Traditio 32 (1976) 1–27Google Scholar, refers to ‘the “maddened” Ajax of the first epeisodion’ (p. 5) and groups together ‘his slaughter of the cattle … the widowing of Tecmessa, and the orphaning of Eurysaces’ as items in ‘a series of blind follies’ (p. 6).

4. ‘Athena … is not producing the intention to murder the Achaean kings; she merely diverts, hinders, checks, limits, and encourages a force already in motion. The intent to torture and murder was present in Ajax sane’ (Knox 5). See also Grossmann 79 f., Weinstock 41 f. On Simpson’s objections, see above, note 3. Simpson does well to call attention to the importance of the theme of perception in this play — a matter to which Knox pays little attention — but he has not refuted Knox’ diagnosis of Ajax’ sickness.

5. hanēr phronein eoiken, ‘the man seems to be in his right mind,’ 344. Vandvik 171 finds this admission hesitant and ironic, but the speech immediately preceding it (342 f.) gives the Chorus two good reasons to believe Ajax has recovered. He expresses interest in his brother (as Stanford points out), and he utters intelligible iambic trimeters after his inarticulate and unmetrical cries a little earlier (333, 336, 339).

6. Compare Ajax’ envy of Eurysakes’ childish ignorance of suffering, 552–555. For other parallels to this idea in ancient literature, see Stanford’s note on 269.

7. It is conceivable, of course, that a dramatist could plant misinformation early in the play and correct it, for greater dramatic effect, later on. However, I see no reason to believe that Sophokles has done this in the Ajax.

8. I do not count atē as a. word for madness, since it can mean objective ‘ruin’ or ‘disaster’ as well as subjective ‘blindness’ or ‘folly,’ and not one of its occurrences in the play (123, 195, 307, 363, 643, 848, 908, 976, 1188; cf. atōmestha 269) can be taken to mean Ajax’ ‘madness’ only, as distinct from his ‘downfall.’ Doyle (above, note 3) has argued that the word encompasses both meanings throughout Sophokles. I would add that the objective sense seems predominant in most of its occurrences in the Ajax, and cannot be ruled out of any of them.

9. Knox 30 note 27 regards this phrase as ‘another reference to the distorted vision of the hero,’ and this seems better than taking it to mean a violent rage, as Jebb (who translates ‘frenzy’) and Stanford seem to do. First, it makes quite good sense to have Athena say in 59 f. that she ‘urged the man on while he was delirious with his mad delusions.’ This urging disgraces him all the more (or ‘casts him into evil snares’) by encouraging him to act out to the fullest his fantasy that he is slaughtering Greeks. Second, if we accept this interpretation we have an off-stage parallel for Athena’s on-stage conduct at 114 f., where she leads Ajax on and mocks him by urging him to do his worst to his imagined captive Odysseus. Here as in her blinding of him (69 f., 85), her treatment of Ajax in the prologue repeats her treatment of him the night before — a point which Grossmann 75 f. has noted in passing. Third, maniasin nosois in 59 is a perfectly good synonym for lyssōdē noson, which clearly refers to the delusion in 452.

10. See 273, where Tekmessa and the Chorus (in contrast to the deluded Ajax) are phronountas, and 554, where Ajax envies Eurysakes’ inability to perceive suffering (for phronein in 554 — and 554b, if genuine — answers to epaisthanēi, ‘perceive,’ in the previous line). In line 82, phronounta ought to mean ‘sane’ in the sense of ‘seeing things correctly,’ for it is the opposite of memēnot’ (‘mad,’ i.e. ‘deluded’) in the previous line, but the force of gar in 82 suggests that Odysseus has a broader meaning in mind.

11. It is possible that they are referring not to any present madness, but to the carcasses of the cattle, which are the continuing effects of Ajax’ past madness. For rough parallels, see 338, where the carcasses are nosēmasi xynousi, ‘present sicknesses’ (Kamerbeek, Stanford), and 307, where they are called atēs, ‘ruin’ (Jebb, Kamerbeek). Campbell would explain maniai, ‘madness,’ in 611 the same way.

12. The angry army did call Teukros ‘the kinsman of the madman, the plotter against the army’ (ton tou manentos kapibouleutou stratōi/xynaimon, 726 f.), but it is not clear whether madness and plotting in this passage are the same thing or two different things. In any event, the main point of the line is to portray the army’s anger, not to give a clear account of events; the exposition was given some time earlier, and the audience would naturally keep it in mind.

13. For Ajax’ ‘senselessness,’ see aphronōs 766, anous 763. We should add 758 if Pearson is correct in following the Suida and reading anoēta, ‘mindless;’ but the manuscript reading anonēta, ‘useless,’ is better by far, and has the support of the commentators. (Jebb’s note is especially helpful.) Aphronōs does recall the use of phroneō and its cognates for sanity (82, 259, 273, 306, 344, 554; cf. 355). Anous, as far as I can tell, recalls nothing in the play’s vocabulary of sickness and madness. The rejection of divine aid is not called a nosos or a mania.

14. Kamerbeek suggests that Ajax’ invocation to Death to ‘visit’ him (episkepsai, 854) is a medical image, and Stanford is inclined to agree. As Kamerbeek points out, episkopeō can be used of a doctor visiting a patient, but (as a glance at LSJ shows) it can refer to any other sort of visiting as well. It is often used for the watchful care of tutelary gods, a nuance which seems especially appropriate here. The idea of death as a healer should not be pressed.

15. On the standard practice, see LSJ under nosos II and (more important) noseō 3.

16. Vandvik 172, Musurillo 11 f.; Biggs 235 note 2 does not go so far, but she still cites Ai. 625 and 635 as references to Ajax’ madness.

17. Kamerbeek page 127, Simpson 93. Kamerbeek stresses the Chorus’ inability to understand Ajax, and also notes in a good comment on line 344, ‘The relation between the members of the Chorus to [sic] the protagonist often carries a suggestion of that between Polonius and Hamlet.’

18. Similarly, the ‘sickness’ which will cause his mother to grieve seems to be his death rather than his madness. The Chorus imagines her beating her breast, tearing her hair, and singing ‘threnodies’ (623–634), details which strongly suggest lamentation for the dead. Thus the Chorus is elaborating on the theme of the grief of Ajax’ parents over his death, a theme which appeared in the scene preceding this ode (506–509) and which will come back in Ajax’ suicide speech (848–851).

19. Jebb likewise explains the phrase as ‘“frantic” griefs,’ though he finds ‘a further reference to their source in the mania of Ajax.’ Kamerbeek and Stanford both dispute this further reference, and with reason.

20. See above, notes 13 and 14.

21. Leinieks, Valdis, ‘Aias and the Day of Wrath,’ CJ 69 (1974) 193–201Google Scholar. For the relevant section (from which the quotations in the text are taken), see 195 f.

22. Simpson 92–99 is good on Ajax’ transformation into a ‘man of thought’ during the course of the play. Knox 28 and Cohen (above, note 3) 28 see the suicide as a reassertion of Ajax’ heroic nature.

23. Weinstock 61; cf 64. See also Bowra, C. M., Sophoclean Tragedy (Oxford, 1944) 31Google Scholar: ‘The illusions of injured pride become the illusions of real madness.’ Weinstock 60 also suggests that the slaughter of the cattle symbolizes the brutish nature of Ajax’ ‘boundless selfassertiveness.’ Perhaps, but it seems better to take it as a reflection of his contempt for the Greeks, whom he regards as little different from cattle (a suggestion I owe to my wife, Meredith).

24. Biggs 224–227.

25. ‘Ajax has so isolated himself that he cannot tell noble leaders from unsuspecting beasts,’ ibid. 225; the delusion ‘kept him from the lacerating contact with society,’ ibid. 227.

26. Simpson 90–92. I have disagreed with some of Simpson’s ideas on Ajax’ psychology (above, note 3), but much of what he says is very helpful for our understanding of the play’s disease-symbolism.

27. Of course, the Judgment of Arms is only the most important of several events in Ajax’ life which show the mutability of human relationships. Besides the Atreidai (friends turned enemies) and Odysseus (friend turned enemy turned friend), we have the captive Tekmessa (enemy turned friend) and Hektor (enemy turned friend turned enemy). The reflections of Ajax (678–683) and Odysseus (1359; cf. 1347) on such changes are vitally relevant to the events of the play. See Knox 9 f. for a good discussion.

28. On other versions of the myth, Kamerbeek pages 1–6 is especially good. See also Grossmann 65–71, Jebb pages ix-xxiii and xlvii-li, and Toepffer, J. s.v. ‘Aias (3)’ RE (1894Google Scholar). For material on the epic cycle, see Allen, Thomas W., Homeri Opera Vol. V. (Oxford, 1912).Google Scholar

29. There is no literary evidence that the Aithiopis included Ajax’ madness; he seems to have brooded and killed himself in his tent. The section of the Tabula Iliaca Capitolina dealing with that epic shows a picture of ‘Ajax mad,’ aias/mani/ōdēs (C.I.G. Ital. et Sicil. 1284 = Allen page 126). However, it should be kept in mind that on other points — such as the escape of Aeneas — the Tabula Iliaca is willing to depart from the epic cycle to incorporate material which became popular in Roman times: see Karl Galinsky, G., Aeneas, Sicily, and Rome (Princeton, 1969) 107Google Scholar, 109. It may well have taken its portrayal of the mad Ajax from Sophokles, as Jebb (page li) thinks, rather than from the Aithiopis. Sophokles’ version of the story was known to the Romans, if only through the Aiax Mastigophorus of Livius Andronicus (Jebb page xlviii — who also mentions the Ajax plays of Ennius, Pacuvius, and Accius). Accordingly, scholars are justifiably reluctant to take the Tabula Iliaca as evidence for the Aithiopis.

30. Aias d’ emmanēs genomenos tēn te leian tōn Achaiōn lymainetai kai heauton anairei, says Proklos (Allen 106).

31. Toepffer (above, note 28) 933, Grossmann 70 f., Bowra (above, note 23) 16 f.; cf. Weinstock 41 (who, however, finds some differences between Sophokles and the Little Iliad).

32. Two details tell against this suggestion, though they do not render it impossible. First, in the Little Iliad Ajax was refused a regular burial ‘because of the anger of the king’ (fr. 3 Allen). Agamemnon was presumably angry because of the attempted murder, but anger over the slaughter of the cattle (who were after all army property) cannot be ruled out. Second, Apollodoros’ account of Ajax’ death (Epitome V. 6–7) describes the attempt to murder the Greeks and the delusion which thwarted it, very much as we find them in Sophokles, and then adds the irregular burial, which is not in Sophokles at all. If Apollodoros took his material from the Little Iliad only, then Sophokles must have followed that epic closely for the first part of his play. However, as Kamerbeek page 4 points out, it is possible that Apollodoros conflated Sophokles’ play (which seems to have been very popular in later times — see Jebb pages xlvii-li) with the epic, in which case we cannot tell what the madness in the Little Iliad was. By the way, might the story about Podaleirios’ diagnosis of Ajax’ madness, mentioned in the Iliou Persis fr. 5 (Allen), have come from the Little Iliad, or rather from the epic tradition underlying its composition? It must refer to some incident known to the audience from outside the Iliou Persis, for that epic opened well after Ajax’ death. Independent tradition cannot be ruled out; Jebb (page xiii note 2) argues for the Aithiopis as the source, noting that both epics were attributed to Arktinos (through the Iliou Persis was also attributed to Stesichoros). However, it should be noted that in the epic cycle Ajax’ madness is mentioned only in the Iliou Persis fragment and in Proklos’ summary of the Little Iliad. Assigning the Podaleirios story to the latter epic cannot be certain, but it does have the attractiveness of economy. If this suggestion is correct, then the madness in the Little Iliad was definitely a rage, not a delusion.

33. Simpson 92–99 provides a good analysis of this level of the drama, and in what follows my debt to his study is obvious. However, Simpson ignores the role which the language of disease plays in highlighting and developing this level.

34. For the exceptions (more apparent than real) see above p. 25.

35. ‘He expresses succinctly and with almost mathematical precision the aspect of this dilemma most puzzling to him … in one case 2 plus 2 equal 4, in another case, 3’ (Simpson 95).

36. We now see another reason why this rejection of divine help deserves to be called ‘senseless’ (763, 766). Not only is it proud, it stems from his false understanding of the nature of the world.

37. The bibliography is endless, but for a good presentation of the rival views see Moore, John, ‘The Dissembling-Speech of Ajax,’ YCS 25 (1977) 47–66Google Scholar, and (more concise) Knox 10–12. I am inclined towards the view of Knox 12–14, that the speech is a soliloquy which the Chorus overhears and misunderstands; however, this point does not affect the argument presented in the text.

38. For a good appreciation of this irony, see Gellie, G. H., Sophocles: A Reading (Melbourne, 1972) 15 f.Google Scholar

39. The former point is the usual view of those who see the speech as an honest wrestling with the issue and not a mere device to deceive the Chorus: see for example Gellie (above, note 38) 16; Knox 16–18; Torrance, Robert M., ‘Sophocles: Some Bearings,’ HSCP 69 (1965) 269–327Google Scholar, especially 280 f.; and Weinstock 50 f. For the latter point — the paradox of yielding to the world by passing out of it — see Simpson 98 f.

40. The second stasimon (693–718) does not speak expressly of sickness or health, but the Chorus does use some more general terms suggesting sickness and health: he has been released from suffering (achos 706) and is ‘forgetful of pain’ (lathiponos 711). This implies Ajax’ recovery from the ‘disease’ which was so prominent in the first stasimon, not long before.

41. An earlier version of this article was read before the Southern Section of the Classical Association of the Middle West and South in Sarasota, Florida, on October 27, 1978. My thanks go to Timothy Gantztind Nancy Rubin for reading a draft and for helpful suggestions. Of course, final responsibility for this article rests with me. Some mention ought to be made of a work which appeared while this article was in press, too late for detailed examination in my text: Winnington-Ingram, R. P., Sophocles: An Interpretation (Cambridge, 1980CrossRefGoogle Scholar). In a detailed discussion of ‘the mind of Ajax’ in Chapter 2, Winnington-Ingram finds the hero to be suffering from madness in a broad sense of the term, and (like this article) his analysis finds clues to that broad sense in the play’s ambiguous use of words for disease and insanity — particularly in the first stasimon. Winnington-Ingram diagnoses the madness as an aspect of Ajax’ heroic greatness and pride (cf. Weinstock and Biggs) and argues that it continues right up to his suicide. This argument is developed carefully and sensibly, but it finds little in common between the more general ‘chronic’ disease and the ‘acute’ delusion. Consequently, the parallels between the two ailments go largely undeveloped, and the symbolic possibilities of the delusion remain unexploited.