A) Odyssey 1.1-10: Tell me, O Muse, of that many-sided hero who traveled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, and many were the people with whose customs and thinking [noos] he was acquainted; many things he suffered at sea while seeking to save his own life [psukhê] and to achieve the safe homecoming [nostos] of his companions; but do what he might he could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer recklessness in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Helios; so the god prevented them from ever reaching home. Tell me, as you have told those who came before me, about all these things, O daughter of Zeus, starting from whatsoever point you choose. B) Iliad 1.1-7: SING, O goddess, the anger [mênis] of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul [psukhê] did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs, and vultures, for so was the will of Zeus fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.

C) Iliad 2.484-486: Tell me, Muses, you who live in your Olympian abodes, since you are goddesses and you were there and you know everything, but we [= the Narrator] only hear the kleos and we know nothing.

D) Odyssey 1.267-302 "But there! It rests with heaven to determine whether he is to return, and take his revenge in his own house or no; I would, however, urge you to set about trying to get rid of these suitors at once... You are too old to plead infancy any longer; have you not heard how people are singing Orestes' praises [kleos] for having killed his father's murderer Aigisthos? You are a fine, smart looking young man; show your mettle, then, and make yourself a name in story.

E) Odyssey 1.325-355: Phemios was still singing, and his hearers sat rapt in silence as he told the baneful tale of the homecoming [nostos] from Troy, and the ills Athena had laid upon the Achaeans. Penelope, daughter of Ikarios, heard his song from her room upstairs, and came down by the great staircase, not alone, but attended by two of her handmaids. When she reached the suitors she stood by one of the bearing posts that supported the roof of the cloisters with a staid maiden on either side of her. She held a veil, moreover, before her face, and was weeping bitterly.

"Phemios," she cried, "you know many another feat of gods and heroes, such as poets love to celebrate. Sing the suitors some one of these, and let them drink their wine in silence, but cease this sad tale, for it breaks my sorrowful heart, and reminds me of my lost husband for whom I have grief [penthos] ever without ceasing, and whose name [kleos] was great over all Hellas and middle Argos."

"Mother," answered Telemakhos, "let the bard sing what he has a mind [noos] to; bards are not responsible [aitios] for the ills they sing of; it is Zeus, not they, who is responsible [aitios], and who sends weal or woe upon humankind according to his own good pleasure. There should be no feeling of nemesis against this one for singing the ill-fated return of the Danaans, for people always favor most warmly the kleos of the latest songs. Make up your mind to it and bear it; Odysseus is not the only man who never came back from Troy, but many another went down as well as he.

F) From Plato‚ Ion
Ion: ...whenever I recite a tale of pity, my eyes are filled with tears, and when it is one of horror or dismay, my hair stands up on end with fear, and my heart goes leaping. (...)

Socrates: Now then, are you aware that you produce the same effects in most of the spectators too?

Ion: Yes, indeed, I know it very well. As I look down at them from the stage above, I see them, every time, weeping, casting terrible glances, stricken with amazement at the deeds recounted. In fact, I have to give them very close attention, for if I set them weeping, I myself shall laugh when I get my money, but if they laugh, it is I who have to weep at losing it.

G) From Philostratus‚ Heroikos
Many of those who approach the island say that they hear Achilles singing other things as well, but only last year, I believe, did he compose this song, which is most graceful in thought and intentions. It goes like this:

Echo, dwelling round about the vast waters /beyond great Pontus, / my lyre serenades you by my hand. / And you, sing to me divine Homer, / glory of men, / glory of our sufferings, / through whom I did not die, / through whom Patroklos is mine, / through whom my Ajax is / equal to the immortals, / through whom Troy, celebrated by the skilled as won by the spear,/ gained glory and did not fall.

Your fearless professor was once videotaped discussing the Iliad and Odyssey as oral poetry. A short segment is available on the web as a Real Video. Click here to view Oral Poetry. (Please note that the video quality is very poor, but the audio should be ok. The video was heavily compressed in order to reduce the file size so that it would be accessible by dial up internet connections.) On another occasion, I was videotaped discussing oral poetry with Gregory Nagy, who talks about the continuity of performance traditions over the course of generations of composers. This video can be accessed here, also in Real Video.

To learn more about the work of Milman Parry and Albert Lord, visit the Milman Parry Collection of Oral Literature.

An on-line version of Gregory Nagy's 1996 book Homeric Questions is available from the Center for Hellenic Studies and the University of Texas Press.