Caring for the Psyche: Classical Origins and Modern Paradigms

I would like to begin this article with a somewhat unusual illustration, Agamemnon's apology. It is the same example used by E. R. Dodds (1957) to open his brilliant book, The Greeks and the Irrational. As you are well aware, the plot of the Iliad is set into motion by Agamemnon, the leader of the Achean expeditionary force against Troy, deeply insulting Achilles, one of his major chieftains, by taking away Achilles' concubine after Agamemnon has to return his own war prize to her father. This father, after his pleas were ignored, as a priest of Apollo, has entreated the god to cast a plague on the invading army. Achilles responds to this extortion by wanting to kill Agamemnon on the spot, but he is restrained by Athena and so instead goes to sulk in his tent, refusing to participate in further warfare. Without Achilles and his troops, the Acheans find themselves no match for the Trojans and Agamemnon soon realizes he and his army are in deep trouble. Therefore, he offers an apology for his expropriating Achilles' woman in an attempt to mollify the latter. And this apology, to our modern ears, is a very strange justification, for it admits not only no guilt but no responsibility for the act. “Not I” says Agamemnon of his theft “not I was the cause of this act.” Rather he asserts that Zeus blinded him and took away his understanding, so he could not do otherwise than expropriate Achilles' prize. Zeus inflicted him with wild “Ate,” a destructive passion, which overwhelmed his reason. And the deity will always have its way. Agamemnon, however, is prepared to grant abundant compensation even though he claims no responsibility for his actions. Dodds concludes that this apology epitomizes the form of early Greek justice: the intent meant nothing, it was the act and its consequences that mattered. A similar view of the situation is even