Later twentieth-century work on the epic by folklorists, classicists, and other students of early or oral literatures allows for much greater flexibility than does Conroy in defining epic (see Chapter 13, by J. Foley). They too are often convinced that there is some international or global genre that is the epic, but manifestations of epic, its textural, textual, and contextual qualities, depend upon the tastes and norms of the particular culture and society which frame and give life to its stories of olden times. Particular societies, in fact, may conceive as a single genre a range of traditional narrative forms that scholars may or may not recognize as epic. Ethnic genres matter, as Dan Ben-Amos’s influential work insists.
As Lauri Honko notes, western scholars often view the Homeric poems as ‘‘templates’’ of the genre, but these too are ‘‘as idiosyncratic as those of any tradition’’ (1998b: 20, quoting Hatto 1980; see also Nagy 1999b: 24-5). Gregory Nagy notes how the very word epos undergoes a shift in meaning over time within the classical Greek tradition. He suggests that, on the one hand, ‘‘epic’’ is an entire tradition about this or that hero or event, and all the possibilities and associations that belong to that epic tradition; on the other hand, a specific epic is what may have been performed at any one time (1999b: 28).
In the search for a definition of epic, Honko provides a variety of other scholars’ lists of traits. Like Conroy, he alludes to the work of Bowra. In Honko’s presentation, the Bowra-influenced definition of epic seems rather reminiscent of Joseph Campbell’s ‘‘hero of a thousand faces.’’ The stories of epic reveal the human desire ‘‘to pass beyond the oppressive limits of human frailty to a fuller and more vivid life’’; its heroes desire ‘‘to win as far as possible a self-sufficient manhood, which refuses to admit that anything is too difficult for it’’ (Bowra 1952: 4, quoted in Honko 1998b: 21) As presented by Honko, John William Johnson’s work describes epic as: (1) poetic; (2) narrative; (3) heroic; (4) legendary; (5) of great length; (6) multigeneric; (7) multifunctional; (8) within a line of cultural and traditional transmission (1998b: 27, quoting Johnson 1986: 31)
Honko also includes the definition by Brenda Beck, who works with South Indian material. In this view, epics are created by ‘‘professional bards’’; they are ‘‘extremely long’’ (longer than folktales); the heroes are sometimes ‘‘sacred figures’’; the stories link to ‘‘wider mythological and civilizational traditions’’; and audiences and tellers ‘‘both believe their epic depicts actual historical events’’ (1998b: 28, quoting Beck 1982: 196). Honko adds to his version of Beck’s list that epics ‘‘function as a source of identity representations in the traditional community or group receiving the epic’’ (1998b: 28). This set of epic qualities raises many questions as well. What is a traditional community as opposed to any cultural group? As Honko himself asks, ‘‘How long is long?’’ While Edward Haymes sets epic length as ‘‘mostly longer than 200-300 lines,’’ Honko sets ‘‘the lowest limit’’ as ‘‘one thousand lines’’ (1998b: 35-6, quoting Haymes 1977: 4). Influenced by Dan Ben-Amos, Honko wisely warns us that any definition of epic is ‘‘as dependent on the context and reception of the story as on its form,’’ and urges us to think in terms of the work’s ‘‘relation to its cultural function as a source of ‘enlarged’ human exemplars and moral codes’’ (p. 22). The reference to ‘‘enlarged human exemplars’’ would seem to bring us back to Bowra and Conroy’s notions of the heroic, but lest we think so, Honko writes in the same breath that ‘‘concentration’’ on the ‘‘heroic ethos’’ of epics ‘‘must be equally qualified’’ (pp. 22-3). And so Conroy’s exclusion of an unheroic Abraham from Israelite epic seems not so necessary, and Cross’s inclusion entirely possible.
Another interesting working definition offered in an anthology edited by Beissinger, Tylus, and Wofford is more simple and inclusive and not as reliant as some of the above on ‘‘strict formal limits’’:
The epic is defined here as a poetic narrative of length and complexity that centers around
Deeds of significance to the community. (1999: 2)
The contributors to this project attempt to bridge both contemporary and ancient epic, oral and written, with this rather inclusive definition, although one might again inquire about the meaning of ‘‘poetic,’’ ‘‘length,’’ and ‘‘community’’ in particular cultural settings.
Like many of the scholars mentioned above, Beissinger and colleagues point to qualities of the heroic in epic ‘‘narrated fTom within a versimilitudinous frame of reference.’’ They also emphasize, however, the intense political capacities, even ‘‘explosiveness’’ of performed epic, given its ‘‘complex connection to national and local cultures.’’ An epic often presents ‘‘an encyclopedic account of the culture that produced it’’ (1999: 2-3). The essays of their volume emphasize further the role of lament in epic, and the importance of word-play, punning, and ‘‘verbal performance’’ (p. 12). Also important is the ‘‘idea that the dynamics of epic, both oral and literary, are created and sustained through the challenging of boundaries - boundaries of genre, gender, locality, and language’’ (pp. 11-12). The emphases on ‘‘political explosiveness,’’ ‘‘the challenging of boundaries,’’ and ‘‘verbal performance’’ would seem to be entirely relevant to the challenge of Israelite epic. The big question, of course, is what did the Israelites think themselves? That is, did they themselves recognize a genre of epic or produce work that suits what the modern scholars suggest epic to be? A first step is to see if a certain term is applied regularly in Israelite tradition to a sort of literature that looks like one of the ‘‘global’’ definitions offered above. Another strategy is to explore whether key phrases or stylistic criteria introduce or frame certain narrative traditions that one might call epic.
World History
