Phoenix (son of Amyntor)

In Greek mythology, Phoenix (Φοῖνιξ, gen.: Φοίνικος Phoinix), son of Amyntor and Cleobule, is one of the Myrmidons led by Achilles in the Trojan War. Phoenix's warfaring identity is a charioteer.

Of Phoenix's life before the Trojan War it is related that he was falsely accused by his father's concubine, Phthia or Clytia, of an attempt to seduce her; alternatively, he actually did seduce her at the instigation of his mother. Having heard about that, Amyntor punished his son by either blinding him or cursing him with infertility. Phoenix fled to Peleus, who in his turn took him to Chiron; the latter restored Phoenix's sight, whereupon Peleus made Phoenix king of the Dolopes. He participated in the hunt for the Calydonian Boar.

In Homer's Iliad, Phoenix, along with Odysseus and Ajax, urges Achilles to re-enter battle. He gives the most passionate and emotional speech of the three, as evidenced by his crying. Phoenix deeply cares about Achilles, whom he had helped raise as a child: ("So you, Achilles- great godlike Achilles I made you my son, I tried, so someday you might fight disaster off my back. But now, Achilles, beat down your mounting fury! It's wrong to have such an iron, ruthless heart.") It is possible that his speech was a later addition to the epic, as Achilles continually uses a special dual verb form in speaking with his guests, rather than a more appropriate plural form. However, it has been suggested that Achilles speaks only to Phoenix and Ajax, ignoring Odysseus, to whose guile he bears a considerable dislike. ("I hate like the gates of Hades the man who says one thing and holds another in his heart.")

Phoenix also makes a cameo in Virgil's Aeneid. As Aeneas is searching his fallen Troy for his wife Creusa, he glimpses Phoenix and Odysseus guarding their loot in Priam's palace.

Phoenix was said to have died on his way back from Troy and to have been buried by Neoptolemus either in Eion, Macedonia, or in Trachis, Thessaly.

Famous quotes containing the word phoenix:

    And there’s a score of duchesses, surpassing womankind,
    Or who have found a painter to make them so for pay
    And smooth out stain and blemish with the elegance of his mind:
    I knew a phoenix in my youth, so let them have their day.
    William Butler Yeats (1865–1939)