If you do any digging into the history of Robotics, you’ll eventually hear the tale of Talos, a ‘machine’ that guarded the Isle of Crete. Now, let’s consider the tale as told by Apollonius of Rhodes in his Argonautica (3rd c. BCE):

And Talos, the man of bronze, as he broke off rocks from the hard cliff, stayed them from fastening hawsers to the shore, when they came to the roadstead of Dicte’s haven. He was of the stock of bronze, of the men sprung from ash-trees, the last left among the sons of the gods; and the son of Cronos gave him to Europa to be the warder of Crete and to stride round the island thrice a day with his feet of bronze. Now in all the rest of his body and limbs was he fashioned of bronze and invulnerable; but beneath the sinew by his ankle was a blood-red vein; and this, with its issues of life and death, was covered by a thin skin. So the heroes, though outworn with toil, quickly backed their ship from the land in sore dismay. And now far from Crete would they have been borne in wretched plight, distressed both by thirst and pain, had not Medea addressed them as they turned away:

(Argonautica, Translation by R.C. Seaton, 1912.)

So, we have Jason and his Argonauts returning home after recovering the Golden Fleece, finding themselves approaching the island of Crete (i.e. Minoa, King Midas, Ariadne, Theseus and the Minotaur, Daedalus and Icaurus – that Crete). The Crete where Zeus left Europa – hence the line ‘and the son of Cronos gave him to Europa to be the warder of Crete’.

Talos is described as a man of bronze, of the men sprung from ash-trees. This refers to the idea of a literal Bronze age with literal Bronze people.

Given his orders to protect Europa and defend Crete, Talos proceeded to hurl giant boulders at Jason and his weary shipmates.

Jason and his men, though beyond exhaustion, decided to retreat from the boulder assault; however, the sorceress Medea spoke up:

“Hearken to me. For I deem that I alone can subdue for you that man, whoever he be, even though his frame be of bronze throughout, unless his life too is everlasting. But be ready to keep your ship here beyond the cast of his stones, till he yield the victory to me.”

Thus she spake; and they drew the ship out of range, resting on their oars, waiting to see what plan unlooked for she would bring to pass; and she, holding the fold of her purple robe over her cheeks on each side, mounted on the deck; and Aeson’s son took her hand in his and guided her way along the thwarts. And with songs did she propitiate and invoke the Death-spirits, devourers of life, the swift hounds of Hades, who, hovering through all the air, swoop down on the living. Kneeling in supplication, thrice she called on them with songs, and thrice with prayers; and, shaping her soul to mischief, with her hostile glance she bewitched the eyes of Talos, the man of bronze; and her teeth gnashed bitter wrath against him, and she sent forth baneful phantoms in the frenzy of her rage.

Not much to add to that, except wow – don’t cross paths with Medea (a lesson that anyone Jason loved would learn with fatal precision).

Father Zeus, surely great wonder rises in my mind, seeing that dire destruction meets us not from disease and wounds alone, but lo! even from afar, may be, it tortures us! So Talos, for all his frame of bronze, yielded the victory to the might of Medea the sorceress. And as he was heaving massy rocks to stay them from reaching the haven, he grazed his ankle on a pointed crag; and the ichor gushed forth like melted lead; and not long thereafter did he stand towering on the jutting cliff. But even as some huge pine, high up on the mountains, which woodmen have left half hewn through by their sharp axes when they returned from the forest—at first it shivers in the wind by night, then at last snaps at the stump and crashes down; so Talos for a while stood on his tireless feet, swaying to and fro, when at last, all strengthless, fell with a mighty thud. For that night there in Crete the heroes lay; then, just as dawn was growing bright, they built a shrine to Minoan Athena, and drew water and went aboard, so that first of all they might by rowing pass beyond Salmone’s height.

So, what is Ichor?

*

Petrichor, from the Oxford Langauge Dictionary”

/ˈpetrīˌkôr/

noun

noun: petrichor

1. A pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. “Other than the petrichor emanating from the rapidly drying grass, there was not a trace of evidence that it had rained at all.”

Etymology:

1960s: Blend of petro- ‘relating to rocks’ (the smell is believed to be caused by a liquid mixture of organic compounds which collects in the ground) and ichor.

Great. We’ve arrived at Ichor: so what is that?

*

Imagine this: every day, Prometheus has his liver eaten by an eagle, only to have it regenerate over night. What does he bleed? He bleeds ambrosia; he bleeds Ichor. While the eagle flies away, a few drops of Prometheus’ ichor fall to the Earth from which strange flowers bloom in the Caucasus;

Thereupon the handmaids were making ready the chariot; and Medea meanwhile took from the hollow casket a charm which men say is called the charm of Prometheus. If a man should anoint his body therewithal, having first appeased the Maiden, the only-begotten, with sacrifice by night, surely that man could not be wounded by the stroke of bronze nor would he flinch from blazing fire; but for that day he would prove superior both in prowess and in might. It shot up first-born when the ravening eagle on the rugged flanks of Caucasus let drip to the earth the blood-like ichor of tortured Prometheus. And its flower appeared a cubit above ground in colour like the Corycian crocus, rising on twin stalks; but in the earth the root was like newly-cut flesh. The dark juice of it, like the sap of a mountain-oak, she had gathered in a Caspian shell to make the charm withal, when she had first bathed in seven ever-flowing streams, and had called seven times on Brimo, nurse of youth, night-wandering Brimo, of the underworld, queen among the dead,—in the gloom of night, clad in dusky garments.

(Argonautica, Translation by R.C. Seaton, 1912.)

Medea, as we see, uses the sap of the root of this mysterious flower to Power the Charm of Prometheus, which confers invincibility (at least from bronze weapons and fire) for a day.

So Ichor is the blood of the the Gods, untainted as it were by the food and drink of men:

Iliad V. 339–342:
[not] Blood follow’d, but immortal ichor pure,
Such as the blest inhabitants of heav’n
May bleed, nectareous; for the Gods eat not
Man’s food, nor slake as he with sable wine
Their thirst, thence bloodless and from death exempt.

So what does this make our friend Talos?

*

To loop back to the beginning of this article, I started with this:

If you do any digging into the history of Robotics, you’ll eventually hear the tale of Talos, a ‘machine’ that guarded the Isle of Crete.

My point is, Talos isn’t a robot. Talos shouldn’t be referred to as a robot, or a machine; Talos is, in my humble opinion, a full blown cyborg, a bronze-human hybrid, fueled by the blood of the Gods.

Some might think I’m nit picking, but I don’t think so; Talos should not be regarded simply as a machine, but as living Chimera; partially a man sprung from an ash tree, part bronze armament, all kept running on Ichor, the divine ambrosia that runs through bodies of the Gods.

*

More human than human?

Probably.

More Cyborg than Robot?

Definitely.

And that, my friends, is the take-away for today.

That, and the smell of Petrichor.

Museum Collection	National Archaeological Museum Jatta, Ruvo di Puglia
Catalogue No.	Ruvo Jatta 1501
Beazley Archive No.	217518
Ware	Attic Red Figure
Shape	Krater, Volute
Painter	Vase of the Talos, unknown artist
Date	ca 400 – 390 B.C.
Period	Late Classical