While words may preserve memory, this still leaves the issue of what actions warrant remembrance. It is not just any ordinary life that inspires the bards to song. Here the lyric poets seem to provide two answers: valiance in war and victory in the arena.

Simonides argues that eternal reverence is owed to those who give their lives in war. In his Fragment 531 we see him praising the Spartan contingent who fought so valiantly against the Persian invaders at Thermopylae. This is the famous "300" who all died defending the pass in northern Greece. Leonidas is the Spartan king who refused to retreat and abandon his men at the pass. Simonides writes,

"Of those who died at Thermopylae

glorious is the lot, noble the doom.

Their tomb is an altar; in place of lamentation,

remembrance; for pity, praise.

Such a funeral gift as this neither mould

nor time that conquers all shall make obscure.

This precinct of brave men has claimed the glory

of Hellas as its inhabitant; and to this Leonidas too bears witness,

the king of Sparta, who has left behind a great

ornament of his valor and everlasting fame."

(Simonides, Fr. 531)

The sacrifice of these Spartans cleverly turns the typical proceedings of death on their head. "Doom" becomes "noble" and their "tomb" turns into an "altar." The "lamentations'' and "pity" are replaced with "remembrance" and "praise." Neither will "time that conquers all" obscure the memory of their "valor and everlasting fame." Meanwhile, moving from the particular heroes to the abstract Callinus mirrors Simonides's sentiment when spurring on warriors in battle.

"and death will come at whatever moment

the spinning Fates determine. But let each man go forward,

holding his spear on high and with his shield protecting

his valiant heart, when battle first is joined.

For in no way is it fated that a man escape

death, not even if he is descended from immortal ancestors.

Often, after escaping the battle-slaughter and the thud of spears,

he returns, and in his house death's doom overtakes him;

but such a one is in any case not held dear by the community nor regretted.

The other sort, though, is lamented by small and great

alike if anything happens to him;

for the people as a whole feel regret for a stout-hearted man

when he dies, and while he lives he is equal in worth to demigods,

for they fix their eyes on him as on a tower of defense,

doing the deeds of many although he is only one."

(Callinus, Fr. 1, Lines 8-21)

Callinus takes the honor which Simonides says is owed to fallen warriors and offers valiance in battle as a prescription for inevitable death. He observes that such honors are preferred to the lonely and quickly forgotten death in peacetime. To bolster his case, Callinus highlights that respect is even paid to those brave soldiers who survive battle. The image of Hector springs to mind. He was honored in life and lamented in death. The only issue not clearly addressed is that of old age. The glory given to living warriors appears contingent on their ability to still fulfill that role. Once their strength is gone, it is natural to conclude that the respect goes with it.

Barring a few caveats, though, the principles of remembrance outlined by Simonides and mobilized by Callinus worked. Leonidas and his 300 were commemorated by an epic action film in 2006, about 3500 years after their final stand. The battle of Marathon is still taught in most high schools. They were not forgotten. But what was the cost? The irony of the advice is that by bringing a premature end to your time on earth you might bolster your honor and remembrance on earth. It is a strange bargain. Yet it was deemed acceptable to many.

For those whom the price of death seemed too high, or who simply lived in peacetime, there was another route to achieve eternal glory: athletics. These were the victors seeking odes from Bacchylides and Pindar to seal the memory of their triumphs. In retrospect this route seems far less successful than that of the brave warrior. We do not remember athletes as we do valiant soldiers. Their memory drifts away and is quickly replaced by a new winner. Still worse, the issue is clearly understood by the athlete who typically lives well past their prime. The dead warrior knows nothing of the magnitude and staying power of their glory. The athlete understands all too well that their success is a flash in the pan.

Suitably then it is this sad fate that Pindar discusses in the conclusion of his eighth Pythian Ode. He asserts that when someone has won a "nobel object" that they experience a type of euphoria that lifts their ambitions beyond "mere concern for wealth." Yet, sudden rises preclude sudden falls. "For mortals" the glories never last. Pindar concludes this thought with a bit of indulgence in philosophy:

"Beings defined by each new day! What is a man? What is he not? A shadow's dream

is humankind. But when the gleam that Zeus dispenses comes,

then brilliant light rests over men, and life is kindly."

(Pindar, Pythian 8, 95-97)

With a sober mind Pindar outlines how fickle are the peaks of one's existence. Rather than lasting a lifetime, only a day is fit to define our experience. This is vastly different from the tone taken by Bacchylides in the ode from the previous section. Where Bacchylides is sure of the eternal preservation of accomplishment, Pindar sees it as a passing wind. Still, they both write odes. Bacchylides writes because life is short. Pindar writes despite it. A pragmatist would be pleased to see that the prescription remains the same. Yet, the difference warrants investigation.

The eternal life that Bacchylides, Theognis, Sappho, and Simonides, point to is a life lived on the tongues of others. Pindar recognizes that this is useless. To simply be remembered bestows no benefit on the one being remembered. This is why he focuses on the emotion of the victor, the "euphoria" felt in winning. It is the peak of a lived experience that receives the attention. Likewise the long valley which follows is reality for the athlete, not the crystallized moment in a poem. There is no pretension that words can preserve the high point. The rationalist would be proud. Here is a reckoning with the idea that we can live on in the memories of others.

There are a few possible causes that brought Pindar to this oddly profound place in an athletic ode. First, it may be simply his age showing. This after all is one of his later odes. Second, some scholars have conjectured it arises from the troubling political situation of the hometown of the victor at the time of writing. Beyond their golden era, Aegina was seeing their neighbor, Athens, build an empire of sorts spanning the Hellenic world. Lastly, the tone could be a result of the topic. He is writing about a young athlete whose uncle, in his day, was also a great wrestler. The “past his prime” uncle next to his victorious nephew paints a poignant picture. In one moment Pindar can see the discrepancy between what once was, and what is. The brevity of the moment is fully realized.

Regardless of the cause, the conclusion is concerning. He has dismantled the potency of immortal words, and with it, the actions that merit them. It is a small step from there to either shortsighted hedonism or outright nihilism. Yet, he stops short. After calling mankind a "shadow of a dream", almost as a concession, he writes "But when the gleam of Zeus comes, then brilliant light rests over men, and life is kindly." Somehow, life is redeemed in those moments. While many who combat nihilism point to the undeniable reality of pain and suffering, Pindar takes a different route. He views the moments of good as absolutely real. Is this why he still writes his odes? Perhaps. As he sees it, the moment that comes after accomplishment retains merit despite its transience.