Athens, summer 431 BCE. In the Céramique district, on the heights of the city, the cries and laughter of a joyful assembly resonate. These are the shards of symposion (Or symposium), a sort of after-party from Greek Antiquity which generally followed a public banquet. The atmosphere is festive. We sing, we dance, we challenge each other with charades or riddles. A theater of ancient conviviality, the event is a real institution: not just a place of intoxication, but above all of sociability, brightened up by the most eccentric entertainment.
Lying on benches, the aristocrats who participate are regularly refilled with wine (cut with water according to proportions decided in advance by the host). Emptying cut after cut, they talk about everything: money, love, war, politics, etc. The conversation becomes more lively as the sun goes out and blood alcohol levels rise. After a moment, the guests exchange a knowing look. This is the signal that we are preparing for a new session of cottabe (kóttabos in Greek), a very popular party game at the time.
Dexterity and resistance to inebriation
The aim of the game? Use the last drops which blacken the bottom of your kylix (a flat cup with a double handle) to hit the target, a metal disc balanced on top of a rod. It’s more difficult than it seems: you have to demonstrate dexterity and flexibility. Resting their left arm on cushions, the players wrap their index finger around the handle of their cup then, with a skillful movement of the wrist, project the contents towards the target. If the bronze disk falls, then the crash that follows signals the success of the player, immediately carried in triumph by the joyful assembly.
The winner usually receives a reward: a treat, a crown of flowers, sometimes even a kiss. But his victory especially earned him the respect of his contemporaries. Indeed, even in the midst of a bacchanal, the Greeks value moderation in all things… Players of kóttabos which turn out to be the most precise testify not only to their agility, but also to their ability to temper their intoxication, the most drunk generally being the least gifted! In this sense, it is an initiation ritual, a way of proving that one can belong to the elite by moderating one’s impulses. The part completed, the symposion starts again… until the next round.
How did this hobby start? According to the Hellenists, it undoubtedly originated from libations – offerings made to the deities – made during feasts, during which the guests sacrificed part of their drink to the ground to honor their gods. Little by little, this ritual will have taken on a more playful dimension… The success of the game is not denied by the multiple representations (frescoes, paintings, pottery) to which it has given rise, nor by the testimonies of illustrious ancient authors, including the Greek poets and playwrights Aristophanes, Pindar, Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus, who give it a place in their works.
Drink or drive (well), you have to choose
Despite its popularity, around the IIIe century BC, the cottabe disappears after having brightened up the symposia for almost 300 years. This is because the nature of Greek banquets has changed. These are no longer the egalitarian feasts where aristocrats squawk, their chins smeared with wine, but more civilized events, given by a prestigious host, where gastronomy is highlighted to the detriment of more “barbaric” entertainment.
Indeed, we must imagine the disorder that such a pastime caused. The players being arranged in a circle around the target, the clumsiest ones often only spray their table neighbors.
In 2015, an American professor, Heather Sharpe, recreated a game of cottabe with kylix printed in 3D, grape juice cut with water and a few students from West Chester University (Pennsylvania) as guests…
The result? “By the end of our experiment, we had spilled grape juice all over the floorconcluded Heather Sharpe, interviewed by the online media Live Science. (…) We can imagine that at the end of the symposionyou were drenched in wine, just like your table companions.” All things considered, the XXIe century should perhaps not resurrect the kóttabos.
