The Wisdom of Thoth
Magical Texts in Ancient
Mediterranean Civilisations
Edited by
Grażyna Bąkowska-Czerner
Alessandro Roccati
Agata Świerzowska
Archaeopress Archaeology
Archaeopress Publishing Ltd
Gordon House
276 Banbury Road
Oxford OX2 7ED
www.archaeopress.com
ISBN 978 1 78491 247 5
ISBN 978 1 78491 248 2 (e-Pdf)
© Archaeopress and the individual authors 2015
Front cover: Luxor Temple. A figure of Thoth carved on the back of the throne of the seated statue of Ramesses II
(Photo Giacomo Lovera)
Back cover: Temple of Hatshepsut at Deir el-Bahari. A representation of Thoth from the entrance to the Main
Sanctuary of Amun-Re (Photo Franciszek Pawlicki)
Cover layout by Rafał Czerner
Advisory Board: Rafał Czerner, Joachim Śliwa
Reviewed independently for publication
Language consultation and proofreading: Steve Jones
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owners.
Printed in England by Oxuniprint, Oxford
This book is available direct from Archaeopress or from our website www.archaeopress.com
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
Sorcery among powerless corpses.
An interpretation of the ‘restless dead’ in Greek curses,
imprecations and verse inscriptions
Andrzej Wypustek
University of Wrocław
The aim of my paper is to study the well known aspect of Greek-Roman magic taking into the consideration some
unacknowledged pieces of evidence. Certainly, various connections between magic and world of the dead culminated
in the direct use made of corpses and graves for the purposes of magical actions. This was made by opening the tombs
to get hold of the much appreciated materia magica consisting of parts of dead bodies (exhuming pieces of human
bodies), inserting the spells (usually the defixiones) into the graves or in-betweens human remains, performance of
the most effective rituals on cemeteries (thus helping to invoke the spirits of the dead). All this disturbing, dark side of
magical practice is fairly well documented by both the spells themselves (numerous hints in magical papyri and tablets
and their archaeological context) and in the Greek and Latin literature (most notably Tacitus, Annals 2.69; Lucan,
Pharsalia 6.438–830; Lucian, Philopseudes 11 and 29; Apuleius, Golden Ass 3.17 and 2.28–30; Libanius 41.7 and
41.51; Ammianus Marcellinus 19.12.14). Some additional evidence should be, however, included in the study of this
aspect of magic. Striking is the employment of human embryos in magic, of which we are informed by archaeological
and papyrological sources. Some revealing hints may also be derived from Quintilianus’ Declamations. Then, my
focus will turn to the issues involving repression of such practices. Laws in which the associations between witchcraft
and the violation of graves become apparent will be tackled, as well as imprecations against desecrators of the grave
(targeting, as it seems, not only those who were evicting the corpses and/or inserting another ones). I will also trace
some echoes of accusations of such magical practices in Pagan-Christian debate (starting with the pagan accusations
of sorcery directed against Christians, including, e.g., disputed traditions of empty tomb of Jesus). Having thus completed a short survey of available evidence, I will try to determine some distinct features of magic involving the use
made of the dead as such, locating it in the broader context of magical and religious concepts of Greek-Roman era.
KEYWORDS: GREEK, ROMAN SORCERY, CURSES, DEFIXIONES, VERSE INSCRIPTIONS, THE RESTLESS DEAD
urns,3 and/or on/by the skeletons themselves; some of
them were inscribed on the figurines that were put into
miniature coffins. Other find spots – sanctuaries, rivers,
and wells – seem to be selected as to give better access to
the underworld, chthonic realms, where such spirits were
to be found. Major part of magical procedures was based
on the use made of ousia (materia magica), preferably
taken from the dead bodies or in some way connected
to dead. Manipulations of such remains for the purposes
of magic and necromancy are alluded to in dozens of
the Greek Magical Papyri.4 Many of magical formulas invoke the help of the spirits of the dead, so called
‘restless dead’ (or ‘special dead’) (Ter Vrugt-Lentz 1960,
43–51; Voutiras 1996, 93–99; Johnston 1999, especially
71–123). Ataphoi, atelestoi/insepulti were the deceased
who had not received proper burial/funerary rituals (the
In my paper the category of spirits of the dead (daemons,
nekydaimones), who died an untimely death or had met
a violent death, is examined in the broad context of epigraphical sources of the Greek-Roman magic, funerary
imprecations and verse inscriptions. My purpose is to
identify some apparent contradictions in our sources, and
subsequently draw some conclusions that might – hopefully – contribute to better understanding of this subject
matter.
It is a communis opinio that spirits of the dead belonged
to the very core ideas of the Greek-Roman magic. It goes
both for the way magic was practiced and the way this
practice was imagined to be in Antiquity. The find spots
of magical curse tablets (defixiones) and papyri most
frequently include cemeteries, graves (Jordan 1985),
152–153; Ogden 1999, 15–23), and amphitheatres (with
their piles of dead bodies of gladiators and criminals).1
A number of spells have been found inside sarcophagi,2
1999, 87–91, no. 1.
3
Three Latin curse tablets were found in three adjacent urns
(Solin 1968, nos. 26–28 = Gager 1992, no. 52). One of the famous
Sethian curses (Sethianorum tabellae) was also found in an urn
(Audollent 1904, no. 187 = Gager 1992, no. 15); see now generally:
Mastrocinque 2005.
4
It seems that this aspect of magic has exercised a profound influence upon literary image of magicians. See recently: Wilburn 2013.
1
For possible spoliarium in Carthage amphitheatre see: Bomgardner 1989, 89–90, 102; Auguet 1972, 114, 215–216. For defixiones
in amphitheatre in Trier, see: Schwinden 1984; Schwinden 1996.
2
Well documented is the famous defixio in a 5th century BC lead
sarcophagus from Athenian Kerameikos; see recently: Costabile
121
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
The Wisdom of Thoth. Magical Texts in Ancient Mediterranean Civilisations
meaning of the term atelestoi in this context is, however,
still debated); aoroi were those have died a premature
death (including stillborns, children and youths deceased
before marriage, that is agamoi/ innupti); and finally,
the biaiothanatoi had suffered a violent death (suicides,
executed criminals, victims of murder, soldiers fallen in
battle etc.).
This seemingly solid and wide-ranging evidence for the
powers of the dead in magic is open for challenge and
some other interpretations may be offered for consideration.8 As far as we can tell, curse tablets were not always,
and perhaps not for the most part, put into the graves.
They have also been found in places that did not have
any connections with the world of dead (as rivers and
springs were, not to mention the public latrine mentioned
in PGM CXXIV 1–5). Even if only the spells that were
found in the graves are taken into consideration, their
distribution does not correspond to the idea of ‘restless
dead’: in a number of instances the deceased did not
belong to the categories of the dead that were regarded
most suitable for magical operations. Sometimes defixiones are found in the graves of newborns or little babies,
sometimes in the graves of adult, ‘ordinary’ persons, but
for the most part we simply do not have sufficient data to
tell. Unsurprisingly, some scholars suspect that the ‘restless dead’ was the best option for depositing the defixio
in the grave, but when this was not available, one went
– with a notable carelessness – for an easily accessible
tomb (Nisoli 2007). Occasionally, it seems, the question
whether a particular dead person did present a potential
for a magical agency was less important than easy access
to the corpse, e.g. through offering pipes leading down
the grave.9 Archaeological evidence is surprisingly frail
and does not help much to understand the concept of the
dead implied in magical curses.
Wider, literary context is secured by numerous ghost
stories turning up in Greek and Roman literature (stories about ghosts, apparitions and wandering dead) and
by postulated historical and archaeological evidence for
‘necrophobia’ besetting people of Antiquity.5 Pagan accusations of necromantic manipulations of Jesus’ spirit
(perfect example of ‘restless dead’) by his followers
may have been a case in point (The Martyrdom of Pionius, 13.3).6 Also, in literature, probably the most detailed presentation of the rituals performed in connection
with the spirits of the dead is the X Declamatio Maior
(De sepulchrum incantatum) written by Pseudo-Quintilian (4th century AD) (Alfayé 2009). It describes the
magician called upon by a father to ensure that his unmarried, prematurely deceased son will be confined to
the grave instead of appearing to his mother every night.
Pseudo-Quintilian’s narrative presents a reversal of the
typical situation in which a sorcerer incites the spirits of
the dead to action.7 Another vivid, unique documentary
testimony of fearful spirits of the dead aoroi is provided by a group of papyri from Egypt, dated to 197 AD
(P.Mich. VI 422, 423, and 424). They contain petitions
relating a long, heated dispute between neighbours over
land and crops. At some point a tenant-farmer of the
Roman and Antinoite citizen and landholder in Karanis
named Gemellus was threatened with a brephos – a human foetus – in an attempt to ‘encircle [him] with phthonos [malicious envy]’. After some time, when Gemellus
and two village officials approached the neighbour about
the incident, in a similar attempt he threw the brephos at
Gemellus in the presence of the officials. The individuals taking part in this curious incident clearly demonstrate contrasting attitudes toward the threat posed by the
spirits of the dead. Gemellus’ neighbours and his tenants
were terrified, but officials inspecting the case were indifferent, and Gemellus himself was determined to support his case with a transparent example of what may be
called an attack of sorcery.
Literary evidence is also questionable.10 In many cases,
the ancient ghost stories resemble our vampire movies –
and as such they simply cannot substantiate any widespread beliefs in dangerous, vengeful spirits of the dead,
and cannot be taken as an evidence for their associations
with magical practices.11 The books of magic, that is magical papyri themselves, fairly often refer to the demons
of the dead, time and again focusing on technicalities
(ousia of the dead, necromancy) whilst remaining reticent with regard to the powers of the dead. Flipping
through the pages of Greek Magical Papyri one can easily see that for the most part the spells were performed by
the powers of the secret names or by actions of the gods
that were called on. The demons were usually obedient
to the underworld gods or to the commands of operators
authorised by the gods.
Of most significance is, then, the image of the dead presented in magical tablets, that is in the defixiones, providing
us with the fundamental evidence for the ancient sorcery.
5
Most famous is a figure of a Thesallian witch Erichtho in Lucan
(Pharsalia 6.438–830); she uses the parts of corpses and is prowling the cemeteries. This ‘necrophobia’, or fear of the malign potentiality of the dead could even – perhaps – lead to drastic funerary
measures (Alfayé 2009).
6
See: Musurillo 1972, 137–167; Robert 1983, 262; Robert 1994,
84–89; Den Boeft, Bremmer 1985, 117–118; see also: Reimer
2000.
7
In one of the spells on papyri a parallel magical action is described: the tablet is to be buried for 3 days in the grave of someone
who died untimely, and he will come to life for as long as it stays
there (PGM IV 2215), translation in: Betz 1986, 77.
8
For the diverging opinions of the scholars regarding the status
of the dead in curse tablets see: Bravo 1987, 209–211; Johnston
1999, 71–80.
9
A curse tablet was dropped down such a pipe in Messina in Sicily
(Jordan 1985, no. 114; Gager 1992, no. 116).
10
See generally: Gordon 2010, and his unequivocal conclusion:
‘discourse [of magic] had little or nothing to do with the practice’
(Gordon 2010, 19).
11
See much more nuanced discussion in: Johnston 1999, 4–5.
122
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
A. Wypustek: Sorcery among powerless corpses...
dead. E.g. in the spell on a papyrus of unknown provenance, dated to 3rd–4th century AD, the spirit of the dead
is being invoked in a different way than in usual curses
(P. Köln 5512).14 The spell is to be fulfilled (thus bringing
Tapias to Achillas for erotic purposes) ‘by means of the
soul of the prematurely dead man [tes psyches aorou]’.
The dead aoros is termed as ‘entrusted with everything’,
that is as almighty power.15
In these, the position of the dead was ambiguous one.
They were mentioned only rarely, and did not appear
as the powerful agents. If the spirits of the dead were
active, in most cases they were acting as simple messengers between this world and the underworld, being
constantly in touch with chthonic deities, that appeared
as the real power-brokers in the spells. If the spirits of
the dead present – rarely – some special capacities on
their own (e.g. capacity to bind, paralyse or contaminate
with miasma), this could result merely from the very fact
that the dead did belong to the underworld (Parker 2005,
127–128). Thus, the likely reason for depositing the tablets among the dead is not so much their potential for
harmful interference, but the miasma itself that the dead
generated. A simple physical contact with them should
be enough to ensure that the persons named on the tablets
deposited in tombs will be affected by that miasma of the
restless dead, which has not been neutralised by a proper
funerary practice. By analogical magic, just as the names
written on the tablet were polluted by contact with the
dead, so too the original bearers of these names were to
be (Jameson et al. 1993, 129). This precarious position of
the dead is well demonstrated by two defixiones found in
a grave in Arcadia (? 2nd–1st century BC). They contain
the invocation of Pasianax, who is the dead person lying
in the grave:
The evidence is ambiguous, resulting in opposite scholarly
interpretations of the role such spirits of the dead played
in curse tablets. On one hand, they were occasionally regarded as chthonian semi-gods, invoked as daemons, and
called upon with their own names as the gods themselves
were addressed. On the other – it seems that usually the
spirits of the dead did not have any particular features per
se and they were nothing more than simple go-betweens,
whose task was to deliver the message (that is the spell) to
the gods of the underworld (Garland 1985, 6–7.).
A possible resolution to this ambiguity has been offered
recently. According to Werner Rieß, one should bear in
mind that the idea of the dead souls as powerful beings
forms the predominant view underlying the thoughtworld of most defixiones, even if it is not explicitly addressed in the tablets (Rieß 2012). The view that there is
an afterlife, that the souls of the dead are indeed alive,
permeates all our sources and is at the core of necromancy and binding magic. It was so self-evident that there
was no need to spell it out in detail. The few curse tablets stressing the immobility of the dead express a fatal
wish on the part of the cursers metaphorically. But communication between humans and the dead can be direct,
as in some forms of necromancy, or indirect, as in most
cases of the black magic. The cursers probably assumed
that it was difficult for them to contact and mobilise the
dead directly. So, they put their trust in gods of the underworld, that is chthonic deities who were thought to be
responsible for the dead and to have control over them;
these are the deities mentioned in the tablets.16 The curser
would render the accursed person subject to the jurisdiction of the chthonic powers. The gods would then
order the ‘restless dead’ under their control to become
active and execute the spell. The dead were in fact quasi-executioners (perhaps correspond to the subservient executioners in democratic Athens) who had to carry out
the negative implications of the curse.
Whenever you, O Pasianax, read these words — but neither will
you ever, O Pasianax, read these words, nor will Neophanes ever
bring a case against Aristander. But just as you, O Pasianax, lie
here ineffectually, so may Neophanes also become ineffectual
and nothing (Audollent 1904, no. 43; Gager 1992).12
Pasianax (‘Lord of all’) is not necessarily the (ironic?)
name of the deceased, as some scholars were tempted
to believe, nor an epithet of the lord of the underworld
transferred to the soul of the dead. As a personal name,
Pasianax is otherwise unattested, and the operator is far
from considering Pasianax a powerful deity. But actual
name of the dead was avoided and Pasianax may well
be an euphemistic appellation/invocation of a spirit of
the dead, intended to prevent possible wrath of the dead.
If so, Pasianax was at the same time a lifeless corpse
and a powerful, potentially dangerous spirit (Voutiras
1996, 64–66; Voutiras 1999).13 A powerless dead can, as
a lifeless body, both serve for the purposes of the sympathetic magic (e.g. making a victim powerless) and be
transformed into a fearsome power, as a powerful and
potentially dangerous daimon of the netherworld. This
would explain the use of euphemistic names in some of
the tablets. Apart from this curious and only hypothetically interpreted use of special names for the spirits of
the dead, however, only a handful of defixiones seem to
openly ascribe supernatural powers to the spirits of the
This may well be right, but one may still question the
very framework of the hypothesis constructed by Rieß.
One simply cannot depict spirits of the dead as a category
of autonomous, supernatural powers exploited for the
14
See: Daniel 1975; Betz 1986, 311 (tr. R. D. Kotansky); SM I, no.
44; and recently: Kotansky 1994.
15
See also: Pachoumi 2011, for magicians manipulating the spirits
of the dead bodies which they intended to resurrect.
16
Occasionally, however, the cursers were able to contact the daemons directly without the detour via the underworld gods.
12
See also: Audollent 1904, no. 44; cf. Bravo 1987, 199–200.
For which see also: Bulletin Épigraphique 2000, no. 147. Voutiras
compares the use made of Pasianax’ name to that of Abrasarx in
a similar case of curse tablet from Hungary (SEG 40.919).
13
123
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
The Wisdom of Thoth. Magical Texts in Ancient Mediterranean Civilisations
into the grave.21 And yet in only few cases the guardians
of the graves vaguely termed as daimones appear, and we
know that these daimones did not represent the spirits of the
dead.22 These daimones were in fact Erinyes or – probably
under Roman influence (katachthonioi daimones, Latin
manes23), nameless powers of the underworld. In other
words even if imprecationes were strongly influenced by
kindred, magical texts and were pursuing some quasi-magical agenda, they give no hint to the spirits of dead being called upon in their own interests. Their absence in this
battle for the sacred cause is all the more remarkable given
that some of the imprecationes were aimed directly at magical use made of tombs and corpses.24
purposes of spells, and this impression is strengthened
when other categories of evidence will be called upon. Two
epigraphical resources are at our disposal, both providing a wealth of information on the attitudes towards the
dead: funerary imprecations against tomb violators and
funerary verse inscriptions.
Funerary imprecations (alias funerary curses, grave-protection curses etc.) were inscribed on tombs or inserted into
them on tablets. In order to protect the graves they either
took the form of a prayer to the gods or that of an independent deterrent, quasi-magical imprecations. Appearing in a number of places around the Greek world, they
were particularly common in imperial-period (2nd–4th
centuries) Asia Minor, especially in Phrygia, where several
hundred survive. Some scholars tend to think that funerary imprecations constituted a subcategory of curse tablets
(Gager 1992, 77).17 This is for a number of reasons. The
underworld deities (Erynies, Pluto, Demeter, Persephone)
played an eminent role in them. In many instances imprecations were referring to violators as impious before the
chthonic gods. Their language has much in common with
that of the curse tablets. Violent imagery is widely used in
their descriptions of the fate of the desecrators of the graves
(Watson 1991, 30–31.);18 occasionally, they employ exactly the same phraseology.19 The use of magical historiolae is also striking (and unacknowledged). They were brief
stories recounted in a ritual context, intended to transfer
the supernatural power from mythical figures to a human
dimension.20 The most unusual element of similarity is,
however, the image of the dead implied in imprecations.
The dead are virtually absent and their status seems largely
insignificant. It looks like they, themselves, were in no way
able to defend their ‘possessions’, that is their new homes,
and themselves. Imprecations usually targeted grave-robbers and those that were unlawfully burying another corpse
Another category of evidence consists of funerary verse
inscriptions, which were ignored by the scholars studying this aspect of magical curses. S.I. Johnston, in her
important study of ‘restless dead’, while discussing the
use made of the graves of the restless dead in magic, describes the difficulties the magical operators had to confront. In her view such graves were very difficult to find
as they were rarely, if ever, marked as such. As a result,
she continues, unless one happened to know the circumstances under which an individual had died, and where
he or she was buried, to use this spirit of the dead one
probably had to choose a grave at random and hope for
the best (Johnston 1999, 79). In fact, such graves were
easy to find. A large part of the funerary epigrams was
dedicated to the memory of different types of the prematurely dead, including warriors, children, and unmarried girls. Everybody could see and know their miserable
fate.
In many, perhaps most, funerary epigrams we are dealing with premature deaths. Often a belief is implied that
the existence of the dead, somehow, continued in their
tombs. The survival of the spirits of the deceased after
death was often combined with the idea of tomb as
a place of their continued presence (Alfayé 2009). And
yet, there is not much fear of the spirits of the dead in
verse inscriptions. On the contrary, usually the dead are
presented as helpless, pitiful and absent. Thus the spirits
of the dead, instead of being a cause of fear and anxiety,
17
See also: Strubbe 1991, 31; Faraone 1991b, 193.
For some examples in: Strubbe 1997, nos. 230 and 384; no. 391,
threatens a culprit with suicide by throwing into the sea and running onto the fire; for this motif: Robert 1978, 258–259 (714–715
in the reprint of this article in Robert’s Opera V) and Watson 1991,
45; for the idea of suffering by fire see e.g.: Strubbe 1997, no. 264.
19
See: Audollent 1904, nos. 74 and 75 from Attica, and parallel
imprecatio on an Attic funerary monument, Inscriptiones Graecae
II² 13209 (παραδίδωμι τοῖς καταχθονίοις θεοῖς τοῦτο τὸ ἡρῷον
φυλάσσειν), on which Heikel 1924, 7; see also: Inscriptiones Graecae II² 13210, for which: Puech 2002, no. 11. Similar formulation
appears in a Roman period funerary imprecatio on a lead tablet
from a grave in Lappa on Crete: ‘I hand over this gravestone to
the gods of the underworld to guard (φυλάσσειν· [...] παραδίδωμι
τοῖς καταχθονίοις θεοῖς [...])’, Guarducci 1935–1950 II, XVI 28;
Faraone 1991a, 10; Jordan 1980, 228, n. 16. Pointing to such testimonies of a parallel development between defixiones and funerary
curses: Stemler 1909, 70, assumes that they might derive from one
common tradition.
20
Quasi-historiola on a grave curse from Sebaste (Selçikler),
4th century AD: ὡς ἡ θυγάτηρ τὴν μητέρα οὐκ ἐχόρτασεν οὔτε
ἡ μήτηρ τὴν θυγατέρα, οὕτως μὴ χορτασθῇ τῖς ἐκῖ {τοῖς ἑκεῖ}
(SEG VI 187; Lattimore 1942, 115 (claims that this is some kind
of a proverb); Strubbe 1997, no. 241).
18
21
These were also the transgressions that might have been used
by those looking for supplies for future spells (Ogden 1999, 19).
22
See the examples in: Strubbe 1997, nos. 9, 27, 74, 353, 389 (daimones as guardians of the tombs) and – perhaps – no. 378; see also:
Strubbe 1991, n. 100, for the discussion of possible Latin influences
(daimones as a counterpart of theoi katachthonioi, that is Latin
manes).
23
Parrot 1939, 142–143 and 158 (for manes in the West); Robert
1978, 264–266 and notes (720–722 in his Opera V).
24
See unique, funerary curse aiming some acts of sorcery performed over the tomb: ‘[…] if he wrongfully […] defiles, performs
sacrifice to avert evil, for the sake of an invincible spell or a binding curse heaps up earth, makes a libation and removes illness or
pain […]’ (Malay, Ricl 2007). See also: Epigraphic Bulletin for
Greek Religion (Kernos) 2007 (ed. 2010), no. 88; Bulletin Épigraphique 2008, no. 470.
124
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
A. Wypustek: Sorcery among powerless corpses...
arouse tenderness, concern and compassion (Vermeule
1979, 224–225, n. 27; Garland 1985, 122–123). At the
same time funerary epigrams imply that the prematurely
dead did belong to the privileged category of the dead.
Of all other categories of the dead, they were probably
the most typical object of heroisation – whether poetic or
– rarely alluded to in poems – cultic one. E.g. a fragmentary epigram from Caesarea in Mauretania (1st century
AD) alludes to some kind of a special region in the netherworld, where the diseased children go, being led there by
a caring deity (and not, as it is stressed out, by some underworld daimones) (SEG 33, 849; Vatin 1986, 110–114,
no. 2). In this way the funerary poetry tends to idealise
‘restless dead’, their attitudes toward the living, and their
status in the afterlife. This rich and long-lasting tradition
of heroisation of the dead in the Greek funerary poetry
was related to the premature deaths, in many cases deaths
of newborns, fallen warriors, or of unmarried youths or
women during childbirth – that is all the categories that
suited most perfectly to notion of the ‘restless dead’ in
the Greek magical tradition. So there is a marked contradiction between verse inscriptions on funerary monuments, with their heroisation of the prematurely dead,
and the magical concept of aoroi as dangerous, vengeful
and unhappy daemons, roaming the cemeteries and posing threat to the living. This idea virtually never appears
in the epigrams.25
was taken (independently, as it seems) by two scholars,
Johanna Ter Vrugt-Lentz in her Ph.D. dissertation, and
by Benedetto Bravo in his widely cited, seminal article.
They both pay attention to the significant evolution of
magical curses. There is a significant difference between
daimones who are simply referred to or ‘used’ in magic
and those who were invoked in order to participate actively in a magical enactment (Bravo 1978, 197–211). Accordingly, a distinction exists between the later curse tablets, some of which address the dead as chthonic powers
(whom one cannot control or give them orders – one
may pray to them, convince them or give them gifts),
and the different, early type of magical tablets (dating
to late Archaic, through Classical and Hellenistic era).
These early defixiones (katadesmoi) lack invocations
of the gods and any other supernatural powers (Bravo
1995). The dead with whom they were deposited appear
as inert, passive beings, belonging both to the upper
world and to the world underneath (with its chthonic
powers) and serving as the intermediaries between the
two. In other words their very own inertia makes them
useful for the purposes of magic, making a clear sign of
‘paralysing’ underworld powers. So, during the Classical
era the magical operators confined themselves to writing
down the names of the persons whom they wanted to
be ‘bound’, without calling upon the underworld powers. Later, in 4th and 3rd centuries, Hermes, Demeter,
Hecate and Persephone were usually called upon, but the
cursed persons were also bound with the restless dead
often termed as atelestoi. In the Hellenistic times, we are
dealing with rare examples of defixiones in which the
dead appear as chthonic powers (none of them, however,
predates 4th century BC). From now on, the dead were
called upon in the curse tablets, sometimes together with
gods and demons. This concept of a profound change in
the attitudes towards the dead is perfectly summarised
by S.I. Johnston:
Unsurprisingly, this contradiction has baffled some renowned experts in ancient religion and magic. As an
explanation Franz Cumont suggested some kind of réaction morale of the bereaved families. In his view by heroising their diseased they were trying to make sure they
will avoid such wretched fate in the afterlife (Cumont
1942, 281–283).26 This is an unsubstantiated guess, most
probably incorrect. For his turn Arthur Derby Nock pondered on this problem briefly, underscoring that epitaphs
reflected the sentiments appropriate to the moment of bereavement (pathos, tenderness towards prematurely dead
small children etc.). Hence, in his view, everything was
a question of perspective (Nock 1950, 139–141). People
may well think of the infants of other people, unknown
people, as forming a class of ahori; they can think of other people’s relatives who had died at the hands of the executioner or a murderer as biaeothanati. They could and
did fear such dead individuals, or again members of such
categories, as restless, haunting ghosts. Generally, however, Nock seems to downgrade anxiety related to restless dead as such.27 Much more elaborated perspective
The dead, then, were no longer only threats in their own right, but
also tools to be used against one’s opponents; to the long-standing, generalised fear of random attacks by the envious or vengeful
dead was now added the fear that the dead might be used against
one by a competitor (correlatively, the dead, particularly those
who had died under unfortunate circumstances, had more to fear
than just the usual dreariness or punishments of the Underworld;
they might be shanghaied into servitude). The curse tablets, then,
confirm that in the fifth century [S.I. Johnston claims that the earliest instances of this evolution come from Classical era], we have
entered into an era of belief different from that shown in the Homeric poems. We have passed from a situation in which the dead
scarcely interacted with the living, and then only at their own
discretion and under very specific circumstances when their bodies were unburied, for example to one in which the living could
activate the dead at their pleasure, for many reasons (Johnston
1999, 75).
25
The only link between the two ideas would be the fact that in
funerary verse inscriptions the gods of the underworld were invoked predominantly in the epigrams for such prematurely dead
(Wypustek 2013, 93–95). See also: Nowak 1960, 58–63 (daimones
as Totenseelen).
26
The same goes, in his view, for the serial mystery initiations of
children.
27
This inconsistency between magic and epitaphs has also struck
Robert Daniel, who offered a hasty explanation: ‘Because such
souls were consigned to this world, they were accessible spiritual
agents for magic. They were generally considered evil spirits. This
is the rule in magic. The evidence of epitaphs, however, indicates
that this view was generally not adhered to outside the realm of
Greco-Egyptian magic’ (Daniel 1975, 255, n. 7).
125
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
The Wisdom of Thoth. Magical Texts in Ancient Mediterranean Civilisations
Especially the later defixiones, dating to 2nd–4th century
AD, and the spells known through the even later Greek
Magical Papyri, reveal a new, different concept. The
dead are no longer a mere indicator of the place where
people want to see their adversaries (or the physical or
psychical abilities of the latter), but they are clearly put
on a level with all sorts of harmful gods and demons.
This holds especially for those groups which were supposed to be restless because of their premature or violent
death, that is to say, those groups which in the preceding
centuries, too, were considered to be unhappy or restless
(Ter Vrugt-Lentz 1960, 43–51).
evidence does not warrant such an assumption. All the relevant sources – magical tablets, imprecationes, and verse
inscriptions – challenge the notion of the spirits of the dead
as powerful beings. This is perfectly illustrated in a curious
terminological juxtaposition in the Greek Magical Papyri
that refer to the magical use made of the ‘restless dead’ as
heroes:
Love spell of attraction performed with the help of heroes or
gladiators or those who have died a violent death: Leave a little
of the bread which you eat; break it up and form it into seven
bite-size pieces. And go to where heroes and gladiators and those
who have died a violent death were slain. Say the spell to the
pieces of bread and throw them. And pick up some polluted dirt
from the place where you perform the ritual and throw it inside
the house of the woman whom you desire, go on home and go to
sleep (PGM IV 1390–1399).
So it is believed that whereas for Classical era there is few
or no evidence for daimones as powerful chthonic beings,
in Hellenistic and Roman era the concept has changed.
Moreover, the growing powers of spirits of the ‘restless
dead’ and heroisation of the ‘restless dead’ in funerary poetry may have constituted two different symptoms of one
and the same change of attitudes towards the dead. In later,
mostly imperial time the curse tablets (with their first instances in the Classical or Hellenistic era – but the chronology is debatable28) the dead are seen as powerful chthonic
beings, thus in fact getting closer and closer to other category of supernatural powers: heroes. In funerary context,
the heroisation of the ordinary dead in verse inscriptions
appears in Hellenistic era, culminating in 2nd and 3rd centuries AD. What looks like a diametrical contrast, makes
two sides of the same coin. Before 4th century BC, the term
‘daemons’ pointed to supernatural powers, whether divine
or heroic (Bravo 1978, 209–211). From 4th century BC
on new concept arose. Special powers and attributes were
given to the dead as daimones, and this evolution of their
status led on one hand to the heroisation of the dead, and
on the other to the rise of spirits of the dead in magic. The
problem is that scholars who advocate such evolution assume that from then on the dead were venerated as the real,
semi-divine heroes, and that spirits of the dead presented
a new category of supernatural powers.29 But the available
Hecate I call you with those who untimely passed away and with
those heroes who have died without a wife and children, hissing
wildly, yearning in their hearts (PGM IV 2730–2735).
Here, the dead are termed as heroes, as in epitaphs and
verse inscriptions of that era, and they are used for the
purposes of magic. For all we know, however, neither the
heroic honours conferred on Hellenistic euergetai and
dignitaries, nor the dissemination of heroic terminology
in honorific and funerary inscriptions (heros as a counterpart of our of blessed memory or the late30), nor poetical
heroisation typical of the Greek-Roman funerary poems
did mean that the dead were taken for some sort of supernatural beings endowed with special powers, worthy
of being the objects of prayers and sacrifices (Wypustek
2013, 74–78). The idea of the dead as powerful daemons
(capable of meddling in the affairs of the living, for good
or for bad) appears only sporadically in funerary verse
inscriptions.31 Thus it seems that there was no place for
widespread fear of vengeful spirits of the dead in traditional attitudes towards the ‘ordinary’ dead. But, on the
other hand, Bravo and others are certainly right in stressing the fact that the practice of the later defixiones was
somehow connected to the idea of the power of the dead
to do harm, either by themselves or by mediating to the
divinities of the underworld (Voutiras 1996, 40, n. 91).
These curse tablets and magical papyri emphasise relative powers of the dead as executors/addressees of the
spells and prayers (so called ‘prayers of justice’).
28
The chronological frame of the evolution of the concept of the
dead in curse tablets presented by Bravo is questionable. E.g. in the
much discussed lex sacra on a lead tablet from Selinous on Sicily
(5th century BC) (Jameson et al. 1993), a person who believes to
be haunted or pursued by a vengeful ghost (elasteros), is about to
perform rituals of purification, offerings and a sacrifice. The inscription may be interpreted against the religious background that
gave rise to the magical tablets (a number of them come from Selinous); it is even possible that it has been devised specifically to
counteract the malevolent forces of the spirit of the dead evoked
by the magical curse. These tablets reflect the idea of restless dead
(atelestoi) as the most useful of the dead for the purposes of magic.
Given the abundance of defixiones at Selinous it is plausible that
belief in the occult action of the restless dead was an important part
of the local sensibility and brought about cultic laws that were both
cathartic and apotropaic, see: Eck 2012.
29
Some scholars (taking the concept of the powerful dead at face
value) were even prone to believe that the heroic terminology
on tombs was thought as a precaution against violation of tombs
(Hicks, Hirschfeld, Newton, Marshall 1874–1916 IV 1, 34 (aferoisthesetai he soros); Loch 1895, 283–284; Samellas 2002, 25, n. 37).
Why, then, were magical traditions at some variance with
the collectively shared positions? Certainly, in a broad
sense, in the Greek traditions some kind of ambivalence
was characteristic of most of underworld powers.32 On
more practical level, as for the professional magicians
30
For parallel terminological development of heroon as sumptuous grave, see: Kubińska 1968, 26.
31
See the references in: Chaniotis 2000, 179, n. 30.
32
E.g. the spirits of those who died violent deaths (biaiothanatoi)
would include celebrated war heroes as well. If so, certainly not all
biaiothanatoi were ‘restless’.
126
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
A. Wypustek: Sorcery among powerless corpses...
Audollent, A. M. H. 1904. Defixionum tabellae quotquot
innotuerunt: tam in Graecis Orientis quam in totius
Occidentis. Paris.
Auguet, R. 1972. Cruelty and Civilization: The Roman
Games. London. (Engl. trans. of the French ed., Paris
1970; reprinted London 1994).
Betz, H. D. 1986. The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation Including the Demotic Spells I, Texts. Chicago–
London (reprinted 1992).
Bomgardner, D. L. 1989. The Carthage Amphitheater:
A Reappraisal. American Journal of Archaeology 93,
85–103.
Bravo, B. 1978. Une tablette magique d’Olbia pontique, les
morts, les héros et les démons. In: J. Chase (ed.). Poikilia:
Études offertes a Jean-Pierre Vernant. Recherches
d’histoire et de sciences sociales 26. Paris, 185–218.
Bravo, B. 1995. Magia tra virgolette? Sull’antologia di
defixiones pubblicata da J. G. Gager. Athenaeum 83,
517–525.
Chaniotis, A. 2000. Das Jenseits – eine Gegenwelt? In:
T. Hölscher (ed.). Gegenwelten zu den Kulturen der
Griechen und der Römer in der Antike. München–
Leipzig 2000, 159–181.
Costabile, F. 1999. ΚΑΤΑ∆ΕΣΜΟΙ. Mitteilungen des
Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts. Athenische Abteilung 114 (ed. 2001), 87–104.
Cumont, F. 1942. Recherches sur le symbolisme funéraire
des Romains. Bibliothèque archéologique et historique 35. Paris (reprinted 1966).
Daniel, R. 1975. Two Love-Charms. Zeitschrift fur Papyrologie und Epigraphik 19, 249–264.
Den Boeft, J., Bremmer, J. 1985. Notiunculae Martyrologicae III. Some Observations on the Martyria of Polycarp and Pionius. Vigiliae Christianae 39, 110–130.
Eck, B. 2012. La mort rouge: homicide, guerre et souillure en Grèce ancienne. Collection d’Études anciennes. Série greque 145. Paris.
Faraone, Ch. A. 1991a. The Agonistic Context of Early
Greek Binding Spells. In: Ch. A. Faraone, D. Obbink
(eds). Magika Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion. New York, 3–32.
Faraone, Ch. A. 1991b. Binding and Burying the Forces
of Evil: The Defensive Use of ‘Voodoo Dolls’ in Ancient Greece. Classical Antiquity 10, 165–222.
Gager, J. G. 1992. Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from
the Ancient World. New York–Oxford.
Gordon, R. 2010. Magic as a Topos in Augustan Poetry:
Discourse, Reality and Distance. Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 11, 209–228.
Guarducci, M. 1935–1950. Inscriptiones Creticae I–IV. Roma.
Heikel, I. A. 1924. Griechische Inschriften sprachlich
erklärt. Helsingfors.
Hicks, E. L., Hirschfeld, G., Newton, C. T., Marshall,
F. H. 1874–1916. The Collection of Ancient Greek
Inscriptions in the British Museum I–IV. Oxford.
Jameson, M. H., Jordan, D. R., Kotansky, R. D. 1993. A ‘Lex
Sacra’ from Selinous. Durham, NC. 1993. Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Monographs 11.
themselves, perhaps they would have liked their clients to
believe that they were able to control and manipulate the
frightening realm of the dead themselves. Such services,
involving so much risk, deserved respect and better payment. Additionally, ineffectiveness of expensive spells
could be attributed to limited powers of individual, elusive
daemons. But I wonder if there was more to it. My simple
working explanation (to which I hope to return in a separate paper to clarify my point) would be as follows. Both
the professional magicians and occasional practitioners of
magic certainly wanted the deities (of the underworld in
the first place) to be involved, while preferring not to address them directly.33 But the world of sorcery was set way
apart of established, public, sacred institutions and cults.34
Illegal, immoral or even sacrilegious goals of many of the
spells, their secrecy, individualism, all this made magical
practitioners suspicious figures of a religious demimonde,
met with strong social disapproval. Thus the common sacrificial ritual and prayer, constituting fundamental, traditional link between humans and gods, could not be applied.
Their approach to sacrum had to be somehow adjusted or
revised, in such a manner as to reconcile contradictory
moral ideas and actions. A different, separate class of supernatural beings, that of daemons, and specifically that of
spirits of the dead (a notion of long rooted traditions and
complicated connotations, ranging from subtle philosophy
to crude superstition) has been employed and somehow
‘artificially’ extended with regard to their actual capacities.
We may also suspect some psychological mechanism of
guilt attribution at play: the spirits of the dead were presented as atelestoi, unhappy, vengeful, unruly, dangerous
beings, whereas in reality that was characteristics of magical operators themselves. In other words, the spirits of the
dead were not so much executioners as, rather, intuitively
fabricated mediators, alibis and projections. As such, they
could provide the assurance that wherever a crime was
committed by the use made of magic, neither humans nor
gods were actually involved nor responsible. The evil must
have come from the imagined dark world ‘outside’ human
and divine realms. In this way the magicians, their clients
and magical practitioners have found fitting addressees,
who allowed for interactions with what we may essentially
call black magic.
Bibliography
Alfayé, S. 2009. Sit tibi terra gravis: Magical-ritual Practices against Restless Dead in the Ancient World. In:
F. Marco Simón, F. Pina Polo, J. Remesal Rodríguez
(eds). Formae mortis: el tránsito de la vida a la muerte
en las sociedades antiguas. Instrumenta 30. Barcelona,
181–215.
33
In the spells, usually gods of the underworld are being called
upon, usually Hermes, Hecate, Hades, Demeter, and Persephone.
34
According to Benedetto Bravo, defixiones clearly transgressed
the rules of proper therapeia theon, of cultus deorum. See: Bravo
1995, 524–525 (‘un fenomeno patologico’).
127
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
The Wisdom of Thoth. Magical Texts in Ancient Mediterranean Civilisations
Johnston, S. I. 1999. Restless Dead: Encounters between
the Living and the Dead in Ancient Greece. Berkeley–
Los Angeles.
Johnston, S. I. 1999. Restless Dead: Encounters between
the Living and the Dead in Ancient Greece. Berkeley–
Los Angeles.
Jordan, D. R. 1980. Two Inscribed Lead Tablets from
a Well in the Athenian Kerameikos. Mitteilungen
des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Athenische
Abteilung 95, 225–239.
Jordan, D. R. 1985. A Survey of Greek Defixiones not
Included in the Special Corpora. Greek, Roman and
Byzantine Studies 26, 151–197.
Kotansky, R. 1994. Θωβαρραβαν = ‘The Deposit is
Good’. Harvard Theological Review 87, 367–369.
Kubińska, J. 1968. Les monuments funéraires dans les
inscriptions grecques de l’Asie Mineure. Travaux du
Centre d’archéologie méditerranéenne de l’Académie
polonaise des sciences 5. Warszawa.
Lattimore, R. 1942. Themes in Greek and Latin Epitaphs. Urbana, Ill. Illinois Studies in Language and
Literature 28, 1–2 (reprinted 1962).
Loch, E. 1895. Zu den griechischen Grabschriften. In:
Festschrift zum fünfzigjährigen Doctorjubiläum Ludwig Friedländer dargebracht von seinen Schülern.
Leipzig, 275–295
Malay, H., Ricl, M. 2007. A New Imprecation Against
Desecrators of the Grave from Northwest Lydia.
Arkeoloji Dergisi. 9, 117–121.
Mastrocinque, A. 2005. Le defixiones di Porta San Sebastiano. Revista Internacional de Investigación sobre
Magia y Astrología Antiguas 5, 45–60.
Musurillo, H. 1972. The Acts of the Christian Martyrs.
Oxford.
Nisoli, A. G. 2007. Parole segrete: Le ‘defixiones’. Annali
della Facoltà di lettere e filosofia dell’Università degli
studi di Milano 60, 36–46.
Nock, A. D. 1950. Tertullian and the Ahori. Vigiliae
Christianae 4, 129–41. [Reprinted (incomplete) in:
A. D. Nock. Essays on Religion and the Ancient
World II. Cambridge, Mass. 1972, 712–719].
Nowak, H. 1960. Zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Begriffes Daimon. Diss. Bonn.
Ogden, D. 1999. Binding Spells: Curse Tablets and Voodoo
Dolls in the Greek and Roman Worlds. In: B. Ankarloo,
S. Clark (eds). Witchcraft and Magic in Europe, Volume 2: Ancient Greece and Rome. Philadelphia, 3–90.
Pachoumi, E. 2011. Resurrection of the Body in the
Greek Magical Papyri. Numen 58, 729–740.
Parker, R., 2005. Polytheism and Society at Athens. Oxford.
Parrot, A. 1939. Malédictions et violations de tombes. Paris.
PGM: Preisendanz, K. 1973–1974. Papyri Graecae Magicae. Die griechischen Zauberpapyri I–II. Stuttgart.
Puech, B. 2002. Orateurs et sophistes grecs dans les inscriptions d’époque impériale. Textes et traditions 4. Paris.
Reimer, A. M. 2000. A Biography of A Motif: the Empty
Tomb in the Gospels, the Greek Novels, and Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Society of Biblical Litera-
ture Annual Meeting. At: http://people.stfx.ca/areimer/Empty.PDF
Rieß, W. 2012. Agency on Attic Curse Tablets (the paper presented in 2012). At: http://www.geschichte.
uni-hamburg.de/arbeitsbereiche/altegeschichte/colloquium_atticum_/riess-vortrag.pdf
Robert, J., Robert, L. 1983. Fouilles d’Amyzon en Carie –
Tome 1, Exploration, histoire, monnaies et inscriptions.
Paris.
Robert, L.1978.Malédictionsfunérairesgrecques.Comptes-rendus des séances de l’Académie des Inscriptions
et Belles-Lettres, 241–289 (= Robert, L. 1989. Opera
Minora Selecta V. Amsterdam, 697–745).
Robert, L. 1994. Le Martyre de Pionios, prêtre de Smyrne.
G. W. Bowersock, C. P. Jones, (eds). Dumbarton Oaks
Research Library and Collection. Washington
Samellas, A. 2002. Death in the Eastern Mediterranean (50–600 A.D.). The Christianization of the East:
An Interpretation. Studien und Texte zu Antike und
Christentum 12. Tübingen.
Schwinden, L. 1984. Aberglaube und Magie im römischen Trier.
Bulletin des Antiquités Luxembourgeoises 15, 63–73.
Schwinden, L. 1996. Im Bann der bösen Absichten:
Verfluchungstäfelchen-Defixiones. In: H.-P. Kuhnen,
S. Faust, K.-J. Gilles (eds). Religio Romana. Wege
zu den Göttern im antiken Trier. Ausstellungskatalog
des Rheinischen Landesmuseums Trier 12. Trier,
233–236.
SM: Daniel, R. W., Maltomini, F. 1990–1992. Supplementum Magicum I–II. Papyrologica Coloniensia XVI
1–2. Opladen.
Solin, H. 1968. Eine neue Fluchtafel aus Ostia. Commentationes humanarum litterarum 42, no. 3. Helsinki.
Stemler, H. 1909. Die griechischen Grabinschriften
Kleinasiens, Diss. Straßburg.
Strubbe, J. H. M. 1991. Cursed be he that Moves my
Bones. In: C. A. Faraone, D. Obbink (eds). Magika
Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion. New York,
33–59.
Strubbe, J. H. M. 1997. Ἀραὶ ἐπιτύμβιοι: Imprecations
against Desecrators of the Grave in the Greek Epitaphs of Asia Minor: A Catalogue. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 52. Bonn.
Ter Vrugt-Lentz, J. 1960. Mors Immatura. Diss. Groningen.
Vatin, C. 1986. Epigrammes funéraires grecques de Cherchel. Antiquités Africaines 22, 105–114.
Vermeule, E. 1979. Aspects of Death in Early Greek
Art and Poetry. Charles J. Goodwin Award of Merit
Sather Classical Lectures 46. Berkeley.
Voutiras, E. 1996. ΔΙΟΝΥΣΟΦΩΝΤΟΣ ΓΑΜΟΙ: Marital
life and Magic in Fourth Century Pella. Amsterdam.
Voutiras, V. 1999. Euphemistic Names for the Powers of
the Nether World. In: D. R. Jordan, H. Montgomery,
E. Thomassen (eds). The World of Ancient Magic.
Papers from the first International Samson Eitrem
Seminar at the Norwegian Institute at Athens 4–8
May 1997. Bergen, 73–82.
128
Copyright material: no unauthorized reproduction in any medium
Watson, L. 1991. Arae: the Curse Poetry of Antiquity. Leeds.
Wilburn, A. T. 2013. Materia Magica: The Archaeology
of Magic in Egypt, Spain and Cyprus. Michigan.
Wypustek, A. 2013. Images of Eternal Beauty in Funerary
Verse Inscriptions of the Hellenistic and Greco-Roman
Periods. Mnemosyne Supplements 352. Leiden.
129