Sometimes, when I've done a podcast episode on a topic, I tend to deprioritize other publications on that topic in order to keep myself fresh with new material. And there are some topics where there's so many publications that each one adds relatively little new information, so I'd rather focus on expanding the overall content. But sometimes its just worth getting caught up on various topics that aren't "top priority" simply because they're there in the to-do folder. Which is why I'm currently working through a number of journal articles that fall in the aforementioned categories. Some of them feel like just housekeeping with not much substantial interest. But some of them--like this one--add significantly to the understanding of those topics.
Nelson, Max. 2000. “A Note on the ὄλισβος” in Glotta, 76. Bd., 1./2. H.:75-82
I hadn't gotten my hands on this article when I wrote "The Dildo Episode" for the podcast. It could have added a little nuance to some of the early material.
This is one of those delightful linguistic deep-dives so beloved of classical philologists. Nelson considers the use of classical Greek ὄλισβος (olisbos) as meaning “dildo” within the context of its other meanings and of other words for dildo and concludes that not only was “dildo” not the primary meaning for the word, but that it also wasn’t the standard/default term for such an instrument. Rather, the modern scholarly assumption that olisbos=dildo derives from the use of the word in Aristophanes and the tendency of the works of Aristophanes to dominate understandings of Greek usage of his time.
The article starts with a chronology of glosses and explanations for Aristophanes’ “olisbos” starting with late classical glosses of it as “leather penis”, including non-sexual (or perhaps anti-sexual) interpretations as “pessary,” and leading to a universal assumption in the 19th and early 20th centuries that the word meant a leather dildo.
To counter this, he notes various appearances of the word in music performance contexts, where it is paralleled by “plectrum,” where it indicates a stiff, oblong object used with stringed instruments. (This is likely the context for the appearance of olisbos in a poem fragment attributed by some to Sappho—by others to Alcaeus—which has generated the claim that Sappho’s use of a dildo supports understandings of her sexual activity.)
The article continues with a detailed discussion of the etymology and parallels for olisbos. The root means “slider” which, in a musical context, evokes an object slid along the strings. [Note: I’m not quite sure how that would work with a lyre—the usual context—but perhaps a deeper dive into ancient Greek musicology would provide enlightenment.]
But olisbos did also clearly appear as a euphemism for a dildo (presumably due to its shape). And evidently “plectrum” could also have this meaning, as seen in a drama by Herodas in which two women discuss the output of a leather worker who “could not even stitch the plectrum for a lyre” which makes no sense in a musical context, as a musical plectrum would be made of a hard substance such as horn, ivory, or wood. [Note: All of which are also substances noted in other ages as materials used for dildos.] “Plectrum” comes from a root meaning “to hit, strike” indicating how it was used musically, but also lending itself to sexual innuendo. There are at least two other texts where a clear double-entendre between musical-plectrum and sexual-plectrum appear.
Olisbos is rare in the surviving literature after the date of the possible-Sappho poem, but one of the authors who uses it is Aristophanes, commentaries on whom perpetuated and amplified familiarity with the sexual sense of the word. The author suggests that this could have been an idiosyncratic use in his work rather that representing a standard and accepted term for the object.
Nelson catalogs a number of other words used for dildos in ancient Greek, including the genre of comic drama where olisbos typically appears. Excluding words whose primary meaning is “penis,” he notes (I’ll skip the Greek versions and do a rough transliteration):
The ancient author who wrote most extensively on the dildo (Herodas) didn’t use “olisbos” at all, but rather the isolated term “baubon.”
Nelson, in my opinion, has made a solid argument for his conclusions that, while “olisbos” was one of many ancient Greek euphemisms for a dildo, this was not its primary meaning, nor was it the primary term for the sex toy. Rather, this impression has been given by an accident of historiography. (On the other hand, this article impressively demonstrates the pervasive presence of dildos in the ancient Greek imagination.)