Achilles—
he’s made his own proud sprit so wild in his chest,
so savage, not a thought for his comrades’ love—
The Iliad, 9: 628-30
The term savage is defined as a range of states from “not under human control”[1] to “not domesticated or cultivated.” [2] The term savage has been around the English language for centuries. Scholars can trace it back in English to the 13th century, and prior to that its origins in Latin. Savage is derived from the term “silvaticus,” meaning “from the forest.” [3] Although the word itself has no direct Greek translation, there are rough analogs present in the language, including the word ἄμικτος, meaning "unmingled, that will not mingle" and ἄμοτος, which equates “savage“ with “raging”. [4]
The way that the Ancients used the term was not much different from the way we use it today. Savage is constantly used to conjure up a dichotomous image, one that sets the institutions and norms of civilization up as being superior to the ways of the wild “savages”. Searching for the term savage via the Perseus Project website gives nearly uniform results. Nearly every reference to the term includes the usage of it as an invective—people are called savages as an insult to their culture and perceived lack of civilization. For instance, in the play The Frogs by Aristophanes, the term is used by Poseidon as an insult:
Ugh! You cursed savage! You are by far the most barbarous of all the gods. [5]
In Euripedes’ Cyclops, Odysseus attempts to persuade the Cyclops to leave his cave and come along with him to the halls of Dionysys, saying:
So tell me whether or not you want to be quit of this savage and live in the halls of Dionysus together with the Naiads. [6]
One explanation for why the term savage continuously pops up throughout ancient Greek texts may be the much-discussed superiority complex of the ancient Greeks, but then how could we explain the idea’s staying power? I propose that there are two reasons. One reason involves a general superiority complex that involves those who consider themselves civilized and cultured; the savage is everything that they are not. The second reason has to do with the power of words themselves to compel actions and thoughts.
This power of word choice is where today’s scholars have picked up the discussion of the savage. Modern rhetoricians have revisited the idea, exploring the way that the framing of others as savage allows for them to be subject to a host of interventions, from degradation to assimilation to extermination. Two modern examples of such rhetorical analysis would include Ter Ellingson’s “The Myth of the Noble Savage”, which investigates how societal views on savagery romanticize the past in a misguided critique of the ills of civilization[7], and John Butler’s Somalia and the Imperial Savage, which discusses the way that the discourse of savagery has shaped the West’s views on the expendability of Somalians. [8]
It’s amazing that one word can have so much staying power.
References:
7. Ellingson, Ter. The Myth of the Noble Savage. New York: University of California, 2001. Print.
8. Butler, John R. "Somalia and the Imperial Savage: Continuities in the Rhetoric of War." Western Journal of Communication 66 (2002). Questia. Web. 05 Sept. 2009.
2 comments:
"It’s amazing that one word can have so much staying power."
I couldn't agree with you more. When looking at the power of the insults used throughout The Illiad, or any Greek literature for that matter, I can't help but think about how much the childhood saying, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is a huge lie. The use of "savage" or "coward" had the ability to do a lot of damage on one's psyche and, in turn, may have caused them to get their act together. What seem to be such basic words carry a lot of weight.
Very interesting excavation.
I can't help but interject a modern and wholly commercialized application to this term. In 1995, Disney released an infamously inaccurate cartoon version of Pocahontas.
Most Disney movie events are punctuated with song, and Pocahontas is no exception. Before the final clash between the British emigrants and the Native Americans, both sides sing a song called, "Savages."
You may even be familiar with the refrain: "They're savages, savages, barely even human..."
Both British and Native Americans affix the term "savage" to the other. What's worse, "savage" is aligned with a new meaning. Savage = not quite human.
Regardless of your position on Disney, (monster, cuddly company, etc.) it's interesting that in the 20th century, a major American film company would choose to use the insult Joe documents in The Iliad.
Then again, I don't remember "savage" being the choice insult on the playground, so perhaps the damage isn't as severe as parents may have feared...
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