This early feud sets off a chain of events that reels the main members of the pantheon into the conflict. Thereby a recurrent theme is established: the gods as participants in human drama. I struggle with the inconsistencies and oddities of the Greek deities. Growing up immersed in a Christian culture my image of God is the result of thousands of years of effort by theologians to construct the most logically consistent structure that they could manage. The Greeks seem unconcerned with even feigning this. For my part it requires a tabula rasa approach to see the ideas that were being explored in the form of the participants from Olympus.

We will begin our discussion with Achilles' mother, Thetis, who comes to her son after Briseis is taken. Achilles asks her to use the influence that she has earned with Zeus to back the threats he made against Agamemnon and the rest of the Achaeans.

“Persuade him, somehow, to help the Trojan cause,

To pin the Achaeans back against their ships,

Trap them round the bay and mow them down.

So all can reap the benefits of their king—

So even mighty Atrides can see how mad he was

To disgrace Achilles, the best of the Achaeans!” (1.486-90)

Thetis cannot go immediately since all the Olympian gods are off feasting (Evidently the gods are bound by the similar physical laws as us). But, when they return she makes her way up to Zeus and begs for his help in hobbling the Achaeans against the Trojans.

This puts Zeus in a bind. To comply with Thetis’s request would put him at odds with his wife, Hera, who backs the Achaeans. Though, as already mentioned, the Judgement of Paris is not explicitly retold, Hera’s and Athena’s allegiance to the Achaeans and Aphrodite’s backing of the Trojans are clearly fallout from that episode of the saga. Zeus, therefore, is reluctant to assist Thetis.

His eventual consent nearly causes a marital melee when Hera parses out his plans to hamstring the Achaeans. Hephaestus provides the council that dissuades the fight, and sounds like a bystander intervening between feuding sports fans in the process. “It will be unbearable/ if the two of you must come to blows this way, flinging the gods in chaos just for mortal men.” (1.692-94). Mortal matters should not wreck the peace of the undying.

This is wishful thinking. When the war enters a new phase of full combat in Book Five the gods charge headlong into battle. It is difficult for a modern reader like myself to construct a rational framework for interpreting these divine interventions in war. There are three primary means by which the gods tend to influence the war: morale, incarnation, and personal combat. The last eradicates an entirely rational reading of their role.

Initially and throughout the poem the gods influence the moods of a battle. They are often found lifting an army’s spirits or turning the tides. These moments where a god or goddess boosts morale can be understood as convenient means of explaining a phenomenon that is not well understood. The second manifestation is related to the first instance. In this case the gods incarnate in the appearance of a known character and provide useful counsel or encouragement. Again, the modern reader can simply bypass the supernatural to explain this as a way of conceptualizing the origin of good insight. However, the final category does not provide such an easy explanation. To illustrate this it is best to consult the story of Diomedes and his physical combat with the gods.

Much of the fifth book is concerned with the rampage of the Greek hero Diomedes. He is spurred on to battle by Athena who puts, “spring in his limbs, his feet, his fighting hands” (5.134), and also, gives him a warning: do not battle any of the gods except, Aphrodite. The reason for the exception is unclear. Perhaps the goddess of love poses no combat risk. Or Athena, still bitter from the Judgement of Paris, will take any opportunity for retribution.

Regardless, fate (and good narrative sense) ensures that the Achaean hero and goddess of love meet soon thereafter. Aphrodite is trying to protect her son Aeneas who had been hurt by Diomedes. Upon seeing the goddess, the warrior changes targets:

“But he with his ruthless bronze was hunting Aphrodite—

Diomedes, knowing her for the coward goddess she is,

None of the mighty gods who marshal men to battle,

Neither Athena nor Enyo raider of cities, not at all.” (5.370-73)

The idea of a mortal hunting a goddess strikes a powerful image. He manages to stab her in the wrist. She then flees back to Olympus and collapses at the feet of her mother, Dione. Notably we learn that gods can be hurt by mortals.

The scene that ensues seems more apt for the Mean Girls script than Mount Olympus. Diomedes has played the part of the bully and now Aphrodite is running to her mother for comfort. Meanwhile, Athena and Hera gossip in the corner to Zeus, suggesting that she “pricked her limp wrist on a golden pinpoint” (5.489) while trying to seduce another Argive woman to “pant and lust for Trojans.” (5.486). This is another allusion to the judgment of Paris and the theft of Helen. Zeus concludes the strange scene with some fatherly advice for Aphrodite: leave the fighting to the god and goddess of war while she turns her attention to “the works of marriage." With episodes like this it is not surprising that readers of Homer so often emphasize the human-like qualities of the gods.

What should we make of it though? It would be tempting to make a feminist critique of Zeus’ advice were Athena, the female goddess of war, not mentioned in the same breath. So, it seems the advice has more to do with Aphrodite's role as the goddess of love. Perhaps her injuries represent the damage war does to domestic affairs in destroying families and enslaving the wives and children of the defeated husbands. Andromeda's closing laments for Hector come to mind where she bemoans her and her son's fate. Perhaps, Zeus is suggesting a separation of the home and battleground. The Achaeans certainly seem in an advantageous position as the aggressors fighting far from their homes. Yet, this provides no guidance to the Trojans who are forced to fight a war on their own land. Regardless, the strange, abstract, and somewhat obvious statement is made clear: love has no place in war.

Back on the battlefield Diomedes continues his rampage. He charges Apollo while the god is trying to save Aeneas. Apollo rebukes him:

“Think, Diomedes, shrink back now!

Enough of this madness—striving with the gods.

We are not of the same breed, we never will be,

The deathless gods and men who walk the earth.”(5.506-509)

Diomedes is forced to retreat, but one last heroic feat lies before him in the melee. Ares has reentered the battle on the side of the Trojans. This bothers Athena who had previously convinced the god of war to retire from the fighting. She instructs Diomedes to "forget the orders" (5.954) keeping him from battling the gods. Then, under the protection of Athena, he engages with Ares and drives home a spear in the god's midsection.

We again are treated to absurd comedy in the heavens. Ares complains to his father, Zeus, of the injustice of Athena saying, “but that girl—/ you never block her way with a word or action, never” (5.1015-16). Zeus will have nothing of it.

“No more, you lying, two-faced…

No more sliding up to me, whining here before me.

You—I hate most of all the Olympian gods.

Always dear to your heart,

Strife, yes, and battles, the bloody grind of war.” (5.1028-32)

Zeus then relents and has Ares healed. All of the gods and goddesses, including Athena and Hera, retire from the battlefield.

Athena as an instigator is a through line for Diomedes' two attacks on deities. The scenes seem to have as much to do with a battle between the gods as they do with god and man. Ares suggests this in his plaint to Zeus:

“Ah what chilling blows

we suffer—thanks to our own conflicting wills—

Whenever we show these mortal men some kindness.” (5.1008-10)

His “kindness to men” is the aide offered in battle while the "conflicting wills" are the sides chosen. Ares is correct that these conflicts bring "chilling blows" but it is better that those blows be dealt on a human battlefield than on Olympus. The latter would be akin to tears in structures of reality while the former are expected matters of course.