Soldier and Son

The Farewell of Hector to Andromaque and Astyanax
by Carl Friedrich Deckler, via Wikipedia.
Click to enlarge.

 

This video of a Ukrainian soldier bidding goodbye to his wife and baby son is a striking reminder of a scene in the Iliad, a poignant moment set during the Trojan War, 1200 years before Christ - a scene which no doubt has been repeated in real life times without number in all the centuries since.

Homer, like Shakespeare and all the other great writers of the past three millennia, had the divine gift of capturing the telling moment that reveals the humanity of his characters, in common with us all.  We moderns are not different creatures from our Bronze Age ancestors, whoever they were - fashions of dress, art, music, and speech may ebb and flow, but human nature does not change.

Hector, eldest son of King Priam, was the crown prince of Troy.  His wife was Andromache, and their little son was called Astyanax.  The scene opens with Hector suited up in his shiny bronze armor and helmet, ready to lead the Trojan army into battle against the Greeks, encamped before the city.  

Before departing, he goes to his house, within the walls of Troy, to say goodbye to his wife and son - an excerpt from Book 6 of the Iliad, in the lucid translation by Robert Fagles (1990):

A flash of his helmet

and off he strode and quickly reached his sturdy,

well-built house. But white-armed Andromache--

Hector could not find her in the halls.

She and the boy and a servant finely gowned

were standing watch on the tower, sobbing, grieving.

When Hector saw no sign of his loyal wife inside

he went to the doorway, stopped and asked the servants,

"Come, please, tell me the truth now, women.

Where's Andromache gone? To my sisters' house?

To my brothers' wives with their long flowing robes?

Or Athena's shrine where the noble Trojan women 

gather to win the great grim goddess over?"

A busy, willing servant answered quickly,

"Hector, seeing you want to know the truth,

she hasn't gone to your sisters, brothers' wives

or Athena's shrine where the noble Trojan women

gather to win the great grim goddess over.

Up to the huge gate-tower of Troy she's gone

because she heard our men are so hard-pressed,

the Achaean fighters coming on in so much force.

She sped to the wall in panic, like a madwoman –

the nurse went with her, carrying your child."

At that, Hector spun and rushed from his house,

back by the same way down the wide, well-paved streets

throughout the city until he reached the Scaean Gates,

the last point he would pass to gain the field of battle.

There his warm, generous wife came running up to meet him,

Andromache the daughter of gallant-hearted Eetion . . .

She joined him now, and following in her steps

a servant holding the boy against her breast,

in the first flush of life, only a baby,

Hector's son, the darling of his eyes

and radiant as a star . . . 

Hector would always call the boy Scamandrius,

townsmen called him Astyanax. Lord of the City,

since Hector was the lone defense of Troy.

The great man of war breaking into a broad smile,

his gaze fixed on his son, in silence. Andromache, 

pressing close beside him and weeping freely now,

clung to his hand, urged him, called him: "Reckless one,

my Hector - your own fiery courage will destroy you!

Have you no pity for him, our helpless son? Or me,

and the destiny that weighs me down, your widow,

now so soon?" 

And tall Hector nodded, his helmet flashing:

"All this weighs on my mind too, dear woman.

But I would die of shame to face the men of Trpy

and the Trojan women trailing their long robes

if I would shrink from battle now. a coward.

Nor does the spirit urge me on that way.

I've learned it all too well. To stand up bravely,

always to fight in the front ranks of Trojan soldiers."

In the same breath, shining Hector reached down

for his son - but the boy recoiled,

cringing against his nurse's full breast,

screaming out at the sight of his own father,

terrified by the flashing bronze, the horsehair crest, 

the great ridge of the helmet nodding, bristling terror

so it struck his eyes. And his loving father laughed,

his mother laughed as well, and glorious Hector,

quickly lifting the helmet from his head,

set it down on the ground, fiery in the sunlight,

and raising his son he kissed him, tossed him in his arms,

lifting a prayer to Zeus and the other deathless gods:

"Zeus, all you immortals! Grant this boy, my son,

may be like me, first in glory among the Trojans,

strong and brave like me, and rule all Troy in power 

and one day let them say, 'He is a better man than his father'.

So Hector prayed

and placed his son in the arms of his loving wife.

Andromache pressed the child to her scented breast,

smiling through her tears.

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