What is the relation of person and thumos in Homer? Of all psychic entities it emerges most distinctly from the person. As an active agent within, it is particularly influential. Very often does it 'order', 'stir up', 'urge on', or 'drive' someone (as at fl. 10.534, Od. 14.246). But more than this occurs: people speak to their thumos. This does not occur with noos or phren but is found with kradie. 89 Above, with reference to intellectual activities, we heard of Odysseus speaking to his thumos when stranded in battle (fl. 11.403). He does the same twice when he is shipwrecked, at a loss about what action to take (Od. 5.355, 406). Achilles likewise 'speaks to his great-hearted thumos' when worried about the fate of Patroclus (fl. 18.5). The discussion that takes place is then summed up by the phrase, 'while he pondered in phren and thumos' ( 18.15 ). These descriptions, found in formulaic expressions, emphasize the distinctness of person and thumos. 7humos is very active within but a person also exerts considerable control over it. One can 'restrain', 'conquer', 'delight', 'grieve', 'profit', and 'satisfy' it. 90 These relationships too point to the distinctiveness of person and thumos. But this psychic entity can also work in harmony with a person. It serves as a location of activity. It can be a tool. It can accompany someone in activity, adding its own contribution. In all these instances person and thumos work in co-operation and harmony. But even though distinct, thumos can often be the bearer, to some degree, of an individual's qualities. In sum we can say of thumos that it is a vibrant source of energy within, strongly influencing the person who may need to control it. It allows the individual to stay alive and ever significantly affects behaviour.
— Shirley Darcus Sullivan
Odysseus stranded in battle speaks to his *thūmos*. Achilles speaks to his when Patroclus is in danger. The grammar tells you something: this is not self-talk in the modern sense, not the ego coaching itself into better behavior. The person and the *thūmos* are genuinely distinct parties to a conversation, and what emerges from that conversation — the phrasing is careful here — gets "summed up" in *phrēn* and *thūmos* together, as though thinking requires both sides to have spoken.
This is foreign to us in a precise way. We inherit a model in which the self is unified or ought to be, in which the inner life is a theater the ego manages from the director's chair. Discipline, restraint, self-mastery — the *thūmos* becomes something to be conquered, a turbulence to be quieted so the cleaner faculty can work. Sullivan's text doesn't say that. Here the *thūmos* can be restrained or conquered, yes, but it can also accompany, contribute, co-operate. The person profits from it. The relationship is negotiated, not hierarchical.
What that means is that the suffering and the drive and the grief are not noise to be filtered out before real thinking begins. They are already the thinking — and the self that does the pondering is already the self that stayed to hear them.
Shirley Darcus Sullivan·Psychological and Ethical Ideas What Early Greeks Say·1995