Aristotle Poetics: Editio Maior of the Greek Text with Historial Introductions and Philological Commentaries. Edited by Leonardo Tarán and Dimitri Gutas. Mnemosyne Supplements, vol. 338. Leiden: Brill, 2012. Pp. xiii + 536. $226, €162.

A prehistory of today's humanities, from ancient Greece to the early twentieth century Many today do not recognize the word, but "philology" was for centuries nearly synonymous with humanistic intellectual life, encompassing not only the study of Greek and Roman literature and the Bible but also all other studies of language and literature, as well as history, culture, art, and more. In short, philology was the queen of the human sciences. How did it become little more than (...) an archaic word? In Philology, the first history of Western humanistic learning as a connected whole ever published in English, James Turner tells the fascinating, forgotten story of how the study of languages and texts led to the modern humanities and the modern university. The humanities today face a crisis of relevance, if not of meaning and purpose. Understanding their common origins—and what they still share—has never been more urgent. (shrink)

A General treatment of Greek compounds seems much to be desired. It would have to be undertaken by one who had an up-to-date philological equipment, to which I cannot lay claim. But rather with the hope of eliciting discussion on the subject and learning from others I offer the following observations, and in further study of the subject should be grateful to anyone who would advise as to the exact statistics that may be desirable over and above what I (...) give below. I was led to the subject by a feeling that the treatment of many individual compounds by editors was far from satisfactory, and that possibly a collection of the material might help to bring out the exact meaning of some of the well-known difficulties in the Tragedians. One is dealing here with a highly developed and somewhat arbitrary poetic idiom, and it may perhaps be impossible, as one must admit from the outset, always to make precise the poet's meaning, but it is worth while to make the attempt. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 122.2 (2001) 255-263 [Access article in PDF] Philology And Cuisine In De Re Coquinaria John Edwards The text of Apicius' De Re Coquinaria contains many disputed readings. Through bisociation, the use of one discipline to illuminate another, some of them can be resolved. To put it simply, the translation should fit the plate. Just as Homer, the poet of the Achaians, wrote a (...) description of a Troy whose existence was proven by close textual readings and subsequent field work by Schliemann, so Apicius, the Roman artist of cuisine, left recipes whose language can be emended and whose tastes can be verified through practical experiment in the modern kitchen.The limits of a strictly philological approach to Apicius became apparent when, during my composition of The Roman Cookery of Apicius, the translation of a number of recipe titles was inconsistent with the technical information which followed. This was extraordinary because of Apicius' imperative, laconic style, whose formulae more resemble the ritualistic epithets of the annals of the Hittite kings than the informed, conversational prose of an Elizabeth David or an M. F. K. Fisher. In his text there is little question of subjectivity in the nomenclature, or puns or literary allusions to test the reader. Indeed, in all ten books of the Coquinaria and in the later and derivative Excerpts of Vinidarius only twice does Apicius emerge from anonymity, at 4.2.12 ("ad mensam nemo agnoscet quid manducet"), and at 1.9.1 (miraberis); and, in any case, I think these uncharacteristic asides are really the happy observations of a copyist. The third atypical remark which puzzles is a reference to a lost and presumably illustrated version of his book. The reference is tantalizing and colloquial, the words perhaps of an editor: "patellam aeneam qualem debes habere infra ostenditur" (4.2.14).The Coquinaria is not written in the colloquial Latin of Petronius' Satyricon, with which it is probably contemporary. His text is spare to the point of postmodern bleakness; there is nothing, except some of the actual ingredients, of the decadence of the Cena Trimalchionis. It is a collection of lists and brief instructions, often formulaic, never personal. It follows, then, that what remains is the essential manual, stripped of nuance and personality through centuries of use and transmission, rather [End Page 255] like the spare lists of foodstuffs written by Anthimus in his De Observatione Ciborum or in Gargilius' De Hortis. The words must literally convey their meanings to the careful cook. The temptation to be swayed by a perhaps unusual or delicious adjective must be resisted. Although his text refers obliquely to his predecessors (the authors of lost Sicilian, Greek, and Egyptian monographs) and in spite of the fact that the sea routes which supplied Italian markets with oriental spices in the first century reached as far as southern China and the Banda Sea, the ascription of an historically interesting definition should be resisted unless the culinary facts are convincing.An illustration of a probably misunderstood recipe title occurs at 5.3.3, Pisum Indicum, in the Milham text (1969). The variant readings are pisum indicam in the Codex Vaticanus and indicum pisum in the New York Academy of Medicine Codex.These phrases take the accusative because the verb coques is assumed, while the gender is arbitrary throughout the section of recipes for peas in book 5, Ospreon. At 5.3.5, for instance, one reads Pisam Vitellianam sive fabam and later at 5.3.8, Pisam adulteram versatilem. These cases are consistent; but in the phrase pisum indicam the gender is confused, and in the phrase indicum pisum the syntax is irregular, since all of the other eight recipes for peas begin with Pisum, Pisam, Aliter pisa, or Aliter pisam. These variations are caused by the mixing of classical and late Latin forms in a text much altered by the long history of its transcription. Another example of unusual, that is English, syntax occurs with Frontinianum porcellum (8.7.10), "Frontinian pork."If one rejects the Vatican and the New York codex readings, the ambiguous... (shrink)

This important new editio maior of Aristotle's Poetics is based on all the primary sources and is accompanied by a details critical apparatus. The introductory chapters provide important new insights about the transmission of the text to the present day and especially the significance of the Syro-Arabic tradition.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 122.4 (2001) 567-578 [Access article in PDF] Brief Mention Greek Tragedy Goes West:The Oresteia In Berkeley And Albuquerque Mark Griffith Aeschylus, The Oresteia, translated by Robert Fagles, directed by Tony Taccone and Stephen Wadsworth; Berkeley Repertory Theatre, 6 March-6 May 2001. Aeschylus, The Oresteia, version by Ted Hughes, directed by David Richard Jones; University of New Mexico Department of Theatre and Dance; Theatre (...) X, 1-10 March 2001. Any opportunity to see a full-scale production of a Greek tragedy by a professional company is rare and precious, yet hedged with a certain anxiety. If things go well, the combined resources of designers, director, actors, and theater space promise to reveal things we had never previously imagined about a cherished text. But there are many ways for a production to go wrong, many obstacles to overcome in transposing the verbal, visual, and musical complexities of an Aeschylean drama into a modern idiom and context. Indeed, the more deeply committed we are to the idea that these plays depend upon live performance for their fullest effect, the more anxious we are likely to feel about seeing anyone try.In these days of videos and the Internet, fans of Greek tragedy can inform themselves far more extensively about previous productions and alternative performance styles than was possible even twenty years ago. Back then (as in the distant pre-phonograph days, when even an avid concert-goer might only get to hear her/his favorite symphony performed by a full orchestra a handful of times in a lifetime and had to be content otherwise with piano transcriptions and the printed score), we had only books, still photographs, and newspaper reviews. Nowadays, when teaching a course on Greek tragedy, one can expose students in quick succession to several radically different acting styles and directorial approaches; even a five-minute video clip of (e.g.) the Peter Hall/Tony Harrison [End Page 567] Oresteia or Julie Taymor's staging of the Stravinsky-Cocteau Oedipus Rex can immediately demonstrate to even the most inexperienced viewer how many more dimensions of meaning and emotional range reside in a tragic script than are evident on the printed page, or than can be conveyed by ordinary speech and "naturalistic" acting. Furthermore, as Helene Foley has recently remarked, the last twenty-five years have witnessed a veritable "deluge" of productions of Greek tragedy in all kinds of styles, all over the world. Indeed, it may be said that scholars, students, and audiences are in a better position these days to sample and critique the possibilities of Greek tragedy in performance than at any time since antiquity. 1The Oresteia has fared particularly well. Since the 1980s, in addition to the distinctive and internationally acclaimed productions of Peter Stein, Peter Hall, Karolus Koun, and Ariane Mnouchkine, several others have been mounted in London, New York, Epidauros, and elsewhere. And this spring brought two new productions to the American West, with an interesting and adventurous low-budget version at the University of New Mexico, and a full-scale professional production in Berkeley. The two were strikingly--and instructively--different.The Berkeley Repertory Theatre (BRT) was founded in 1968 by graduates and ABDs of UC Berkeley's Ph.D. program in Dramatic Art, as an alternative to a perceived blandness of mainstream Bay Area theater. A College Avenue storefront was converted into a 153-seat house, in which for several years enterprising and varied seasons were presented (including productions of Sophocles' Elektra and Antigone). With critical success and a growing reputation came the need for a bigger and better space, and in 1980 the company moved to a new building in downtown Berkeley, with a 450-seat thrust stage. Over the last twenty years, the BRT has built a national reputation and a solid subscription base (mainly upper-middle-class, well-educated, and liberal), with annual seasons that alternate original productions with imports from elsewhere. It is no [End Page 568] longer a "repertory" company (there are virtually none of these left in the United... (shrink)

This book is a tool intended to give readers a knowledge of, and feel for, the most basic building blocks of vocabulary, namely the roots that are the basis of so many English words. Knowing these roots enables readers to gain greater reading fluency. Armed with these roots, readers can guess the meanings of unfamiliar words without a feeling of helplessness and without unnecessary dependence upon a dictionary. In this way, reading becomes more fluid, more rewarding, less burdensome, and—most important—less (...) frustrating. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Greek FriendshipDavid KonstanIn this paper I examine the nomenclature and conception of friendship among the ancient Greeks. More specifically, I challenge the current consensus that the classical Greek notion of friendship was wider or more inclusive than the modern. My focus will be on the significance of the terms philos (as noun) and philia, which do not, as is commonly assumed, denote the same range of relations. (...) I shall argue that philos in the classical period denotes something very like the modern sense of "friend," while philia refers to affectionate sentiments (not objective obligations) characteristic of a wide range of relationships, not excluding friendship proper. I examine evidence drawn primarily from Aristotle, Xenophon and the Greek orators in order to exhibit the uses of the nouns philos and philia, and look also at Sophocles' Antigone, since a number of recent interpretations of this play presuppose that kin are philoi and that philia represents the objective bond among them.In his recent book on Athenian finance, Paul Millett writes: "It is true that from the viewpoint of comparative sociology, to say nothing of our own experience, the all-inclusive quality of Greek friendship is anomalous."1 Millett cites the article on "Friendship" by Odd Ramsøy for the generalization that "most other important social relationships exclude friendship," which "tends to be incompatible with such relationships as those of mother and child, lovers, and employer and employee."2 Millett goes on to observe that Greek usage, as illustrated for example by Aristotle, admits of the term philos or "friend" in respect to "parents, brothers, benefactors, fellow-tribesmen and fellow-citizens," as well as to "husbands and wives, fellow-voyagers, comrades-in-arms, guest-friends, and cousins," and he adds that "perhaps the clearest illustration comes from the Memorabilia of Xenophon, plotting the extension of philia both inside and outside the family circle." [End Page 71]Millett expresses with exemplary clarity and a wealth of citations a point of view shared by virtually every scholar writing these days on Greek friendship. For example, Mary Whitlock Blundell, in her study of Sophoclean ethics, classifies Greek conceptions of friendship under three main heads or circles: the family, fellow-citizens, and "the third main group of philoi" that "approximates most closely to modern conceptions of a friend."3 Barry Strauss, in his history of fourth-century Athens, writes: "Friendship was of fundamental importance in Athenian society. Second only to parent-child and kinship ties in the intensity of its obligations, friendship is central to the thought of many ancient Greek writers."4 This seems to promise a distinction between kinship and friendship, but in the next sentence Strauss continues: "Philia, as the Greeks called it, is much broader in its meaning than the English 'friendship,'" and he goes on to quote with approval N. R. E. Fisher, who asserts: "Linguistically, the most general word for what belongs to a person, in his group or on his side, is philos (noun philia), which we usually translate 'friend,' but which, when applied to persons, systematically spans both kin and non-kin, those with whom one has links of mutual aid and benevolence."5 Sally Humphreys states the matter succinctly in a footnote:" Philos can refer both to kin and to friends."6 The philosophers too are in agreement on this point. Thus, Michael Pakaluk, in the introduction to a collection of philosophical essays on friendship, observes of Aristotle's treatise: "Religious societies, familial bonds, affinities among travellers, civility among citizens, arrangements of hospitality, and tacit contractual agreements-all of these are woven into his account of friendship."7The Greeks, then, are said not to have discriminated linguistically between a wide range of associations that we, and most societies, regard as categorically distinct. Friends are assimilated to relatives, fellow citizens, and just about anyone else with whom one shares some common experience or interest. This view, however, is inexact and misleading as stated. I shall argue that in Greek usage of the classical period and later, [End Page 72] just as in English today, kin and fellow citizens were not normally spoken of as friends or philoi, and that the categories were in fact distinct and... (shrink)

The philosophy of the Presocratics still governs scholarly discussion today. This important volume grapples with a host of philosophical issues and philological and historical problems inherent in interpreting Presocratic philosophers.

Heidegger develops his reading of a-lētheia as privative un-concealment (Unverborgenheit) in tandem with his early phenomenological theory of truth. He is not simply reinterpreting a word, but rather reading Greek philosophy as having a primordial understanding of truth which has itself been concealed in interpretation. After shedding medieval and modern presuppositions of truth as correspondence, the existential truth-experience shows itself, no longer left puzzlingly implicit in unsatisfactory conventional readings of Greek philosophy. In Sein und Zeit §44, Heidegger resolves (...) interpretive difficulties in Parmenides through his interpretation of alētheia and philologically grounds this reading in Heraclitus’s description of the unconcealing logos. Although this primordial sense of the word has already been obscured in Plato and Aristotle, the structural gradation of their theories of truth conserves the primordial pre-Socratic sense of truth as the experience of unconcealment. (shrink)

This paper argues that: (a) the transmitted text of Pind. Nem. 3.35–6 ποντίαν Θέτιν κατέμαρψεν | ἐγκονητί (‘[Peleus] caught the sea-nymph Thetis quickly’) is not the original text of Pindar; (b) ἐγκονητί does not fit the context, is not an attested Greek word and should be eliminated from dictionaries of ancient Greek; (c) Byzantine etymological works, followed by many modern scholars, base their explanations on the late antique form ἀκονητί, which should be eliminated from classical, Hellenistic and imperial (...) texts; (d) the tradition of the Etymologicum Magnum knows the variant ἐγκονιτί (conjectured for Pindar by Bergk) ‘with dust’ (‘with effort’), which seems presupposed by the scholia on Pindar; (e) the form ἐγκονιτί (created on the pattern of ἀκονιτί) is to be preferred in Pindar for reasons of language and content and should be added to the dictionaries of ancient Greek. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 122.3 (2001) 436-440 [Access article in PDF] M. L. West. Ancient Greek Music. 1992. Rpt., Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994. 424 pp. Paper, $28.00. For many years, lamentably, classical scholarship lacked a good book in English on the subject of Greek music as a whole, in spite of the indisputable prominence mousike had in Greek culture. M. L. West's book has filled (...) that gap admirably. It is indeed, as its publisher claims, "clear, comprehensive, and authoritative.""Clear." It is as clear as humanly possible, given the incredible complexity of the topic. Alhough it "presupposes no special knowledge of music," I fear the average unmusical student of Greek culture will eventually be totally lost in the jungles of Greek terminology or swept away in a torrent of unfamiliar names. A similar fate awaits the nonclassical student of musicology. But West has done a superhuman job of explaining everything step by step, and readers who are dedicated and careful will be rewarded with a solid understanding of a very complicated subject."Comprehensive." There can be no doubt that the book is comprehensive. It would be almost impossible to find a topic that has been overlooked, or an [End Page 436] ancient author that has been slighted or misrepresented. There are chapters on music in Greek life, the voice, stringed instruments, wind and percussion, rhythm and tempo, scales and modes, melody and form, theory, notation and pitch, musical documents, and a historical synthesis (in two parts). The book ends with an epilogue on the place of Greek music "between Europe and Asia."Modern scholarship has been thoroughly canvassed. I did, however, note one serious omission. West does not refer to F. Kuttner and J. M. Barbour, The Theory of Classical Greek Music (Musurgia Records 1955), in the text or bibliography. This book has a recording that allows one to hear the various phenomena discussed, affording an enormous improvement over trying to guess what an interval of, say, 63 cents sounds like."Authoritative." This bold claim is largely justified, especially in areas of special expertise, such as rhythm and ancient poetry. Controversial issues are not evaded; and, after a judicious and thorough laying out of the evidence, West comes down with a magisterial conclusion. He is usually right.The topic that most classicists are likely to be interested in, especially if they are studying Plato or Aristotle, is the "modes" (harmoniai), which are supposed to have such moral power that it is appropriate for a legislator to promote some and ban others. Readers will have to wait for chapter 6 to learn what West thinks about this issue.With his characteristic thoroughness, West begins with the anatomy of the octave, then the anatomy of the fourth into genera, enharmonic, chromatic, and diatonic. He mentions an earlier "pentatonic trichord," which evolves into a four-note unit with the small interval divided into smaller units (conventionally called "quarter tones"). He then discusses the "fine tuning" represented by the shades (chroai) treated by the Pythagorean, Aristoxenian, and Ptolemaic theorists. The last group makes a distinction between the tunings of theory and those of the actual tunings used in practice by (contemporary?) musicians.He then discusses "ambitus" or the region of the normal tessitura, interpreting (convincingly) "slack" as referring to pieces of music largely confined to the lower register and "tense" as the opposite. A discussion of the scales described by the fifth-century theorist Damon follows, but they are not "modal" (in the Western sense of scales differentiated by varying patterns of large and small intervals).There follows a thorough canvas of the ancient literature to expound references to the various harmoniai and their alleged moral and psychological effects. One truth emerges: the harmoniai were not "fixed and unchanging.... Old ones were discarded, new ones grew" (184). Unfortunately, however, he reaches no decision as to what, exactly, these harmoniai were.Even after the consolidation of the scales into the "perfect immutable system" (a master scale, which has various scales, tonoi, with the ethnic epithets Dorian, Phrygian, and so on), we cannot recognize what is meant in modern theory... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 40.1 (2002) 130-131 [Access article in PDF] Book Review Nietzsche and the Philology of the Future The Invention of Dionysus: An Essay on 'The Birth of Tragedy.' James I. Porter. Nietzsche and the Philology of the Future. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2000. Pp. xiii + 449. Cloth, $60.00. Paper, $19.95. James I. Porter. The Invention of Dionysus: An Essay on 'The (...) Birth of Tragedy.' Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2000. Pp. xiii + 224. Cloth, $45.00. Paper, $16.95. Every year an astonishing number of books are published on Nietzsche. Here are two more from a single author. James I. Porter's thesis--in both of them--is that "The Birth of Tragedy does not mark a break in Nietzsche's thinking, whether away from his philological understanding of antiquity or toward... emancipation from metaphysics" (Philology of the Future, 2). Perhaps to lend drama to his case, he assumes an unwarranted degree of unanimity among those who see a break between the philological writings of the young Nietzsche and the philosophical ones written later. But Porter's elaboration of his own thesis is quite persuasive nonetheless. He shows that essential tenets of Nietzsche's later philosophy can be found in his early philological writings, and that Nietzsche's interpretations of the ancient Greeks were as ambiguous, "mythological," and self-critical as his later books. In this way, Porter extensively reinterprets Nietzsche's early writing.The Invention of Dionysus is the shorter and more closely argued of the two books. Here Porter attempts to show that in The Birth of Tragedy Nietzsche both began his exposé of the fictional nature of all metaphysics and recognized that metaphysics would forever haunt the human mind. Porter asserts--more forcefully than earlier authors--that Nietzsche was decisively influenced by Friedrich Albert Lange in this; indeed he ascribes much of what is thought most characteristic of Nietzsche's philosophy to Lange! But what Porter takes away from Nietzsche and awards to Lange in originality, he returns to Nietzsche in subtlety.Porter contends that throughout his career Nietzsche defended an "embattled position" (18), attempting to preserve both appearance and metaphysics as necessary dimensions of human consciousness. This is perhaps Porter's contribution: to assert that Nietzsche never thought he had abolished metaphysics in favor of appearance, as so many writers have claimed. According to Porter, Nietzsche understood in The Birth of Tragedy and throughout his career that metaphysics could never be abolished; that the act of trying to abolish metaphysics is itself inevitably metaphysical, and that any philosophy of appearances including his own must also be metaphysical. Porter characterizes Nietzsche's rhetorical stance as "mythological."Porter quotes a passage from The Birth of Tragedy to show that Nietzsche was both eager to reveal the mythological status of Greek metaphysics, and fully aware that his own efforts to reveal it were mythological as well: "It is the fate of every myth to creep by degrees into the narrow limits of some alleged historical reality, and to be treated by some later generation as a unique fact with historical claims"(45). So if readers take Nietzsche's arguments at face value, that is understandable; but it does not make them any less mythological. According to Porter, this stance gives the lie to claims that The Birth of Tragedy was "still" metaphysical. And it should establish that from the first Nietzsche had a more subtle view of his project than previously acknowledged.Porter makes this enduring mythological stance the central issue for interpreting Nietzsche's oeuvre. Interesting as this is, it makes Nietzsche out to be impossibly consistent and prescient about his later writing. And it leaves him an oddly disembodied thinker--quite contrary to his own understanding of the philosophical career. The obvious contortions [End Page 130] in Nietzsche's early writing--rooted in his attempt to be true to his own best insights while maintaining a strenuous discipleship to Richard Wagner--are entirely glossed over. While this might be... (shrink)

This paper contends that there was a distinct branch of Greek local historiography that focused on the past viewed through regional cult: sacred history. After an introductory look at Atthidography, a number of cases of local cult history referred to in inscriptions from the Hellenistic period are examined; additionally, an instance where historia sacra is itself preserved on an inscription is also discussed, namely, the Chronicle of the temple of Athena at Lindos. The paper analyzes this type of historical (...) writing from the perspective of "intentional history," historiography written both to articulate the identity of a given region of the Greek world and to proclaim the region's importance in a larger, changing world. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Solon and Early Greek Poetry: The Politics of ExhortationGregory HaysElizabeth Irwin. Solon and Early Greek Poetry: The Politics of Exhortation. Cambridge Classical Studies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. xiv + 350 pp. Cloth, $90.Thirty years ago we understood archaic Greek elegy pretty well—or so we imagined. The elegists sang of the new developments of the archaic period, above all the rise of the polis. They (...) wrote first-person poetry celebrating their own individuality; most modern anthologies open emblematically with Archilochus's... They invoked the phraseology of epic only to reject its values: Homer's aristocratic warriors retreated in disarray before the bandy-legged general of the mercenary Archilochus. The arrival of the citizen soldier was reflected in Tyrtaeus and Callinus, whose exhortations hoplites chanted as they marched into battle. Solon was a little harder to accommodate in this picture: an odd hybrid of Jeremiah and Polonius, rising to occasional grandeur, but weak on logic and organization. Still, his praise of Eunomia helped bridge the gap between Homeric naiveté and the abstract thinking of the fifth century. And of course there was that law code...This explanatory model reflects the Geistesgeschichte approach of Bruno Snell, Hermann Fränkel, and Werner Jaeger, and it has been notably tenacious. But as a tool for explaining elegy (and lyric generally) it has come to seem pretty dated. Archilochus's "I" was problematized as early as 1964 in K. J. Dover's contribution to the Fondation Hardt Archiloque volume. But it was in the 1980s that the ice really started to break up. In an influential article (JHS 106 [1986] 13-35), [End Page 427] Ewen Bowie stressed the symposium's centrality as the performative context for elegy, thus making conservative aristocrats the genre's primary consumers (so much for the citizen soldier and the rising middle class!). The rise of "cultural poetics" left archaic society—and its poets—looking much less familiar. Finally, the conventional relationship between elegy and epic was being reexamined. Many supposed Homeric allusions melted away under closer examination (notably in Robert Fowler's The Nature of Early Greek Lyric [Toronto, 1987]). Recent scholarship has proposed dramatically later dates for the stabilization of the Homeric poems, calling into question their priority to lyric even in a chronological sense. The old picture of elegy as an archaic response to a monolithic "epic" has given way to theories of an ongoing and dynamic dialogue between (and within) both genres.These trends are reflected in Elizabeth Irwin's study of Solon, a revised version of her 1999 Cambridge dissertation. It also reflects renewed interest in the poet, appearing soon after commentaries by Maria Noussia (2001) and Christoph Mülke (2002) and almost simultaneously with a collective volume edited by Josine Blok and André Lardinois (Solon of Athens: New Historical and Philological Approaches [Leiden, 2006]), to which Irwin has contributed. Along with Solon, Irwin focuses on Callinus and Tyrtaeus, and one of her stated goals is "to help us unlearn what we think we know about this poetry and its historical significance" (18).The book is divided into three parts. In part 1 ("The Politics of Exhortation") Irwin examines the tradition of martial exhortation represented by Tyrtaeus and Callinus. The conventional view had these poets discarding Homer's individualistic front-fighters in favor of the new citizen-armies of the polis— is now a civic virtue. But as Irwin observes, "fighting for one's fatherland" is not alien to Iliadic values. For her, the similarities between martial elegy and epic outweigh any differences. As she notes, the evocation of future warfare in sympotic elegy mirrors a corresponding appeal to past feasting in the exhortations of the Iliad. Martial elegy provides (or sees itself as providing) an off-duty complement to Homeric warriors' battlefield vaunts—the sort of thing Sarpedon might have directed to Glaucus back in Lycia while the slave-boys were refilling the goblets. Such Iliadic self-fashioning constructs its sympotic audience not simply as heroic, but specifically as a heroic elite. While martial elegy may pay lip service to the polis, its center of gravity is elsewhere. Thus Tyrtaeus fragment 11W can conclude with patronizing advice to the... (shrink)

In an interesting paper read some time ago to the Cambridge Philological Society , H. J. M. Milne analysed the first Ode of Sappho and showed that it is constructed according to those principles of poetical form which we should expect to find in the work of so delicate a Greek artist. If more of these lyrics had survived in their entirety, the task of expounding the technique of Greek poetry would be simpler than it is, because naturally (...) the principles are more easily grasped in a short lyric than in epic or drama. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 123.3 (2002) 407-427 [Access article in PDF] Trying (on) Gender:Modern Greek Productions Of Aristophanes'Thesmophoriazusae Gonda Van Steen [Figures]Aristophanes' women in Thesmophoriazusaecomplain that Euripides has portrayed their gender in a bad light: by exposing typical female wrongdoings (to which they comically admit), he has made Athenian men distrust their wives. At their Thesmophoria festival, where they gather in an imitation-male assembly as in a (...) male trial court, the women are ready to sentence Euripides to death. 1 Or, as Euripides evaluates the situation:This very day it will be adjudged (krithesetai):shall Euripides live or shall he die?Kinsman:How could that be? The courts (dikasteria) aren't in session (dikazein) today and the Council isn't sitting.It's the middle day of Thesmophoria!Euripides:And that's exactly why I think I'm done for. (Ar. Thesm. 76-81, trans. Henderson) Once the women learn from Cleisthenes that their sacred festival space has been violated, they interrogate and physically examine Euripides' kinsman. This relative, dressed as a woman, has infiltrated the all-female ritual and trial proceedings to deliver an odd defense of Euripides. Mnesilochus tests and tries on the women's gender. Tests, trials, and tryouts are key themes of this paper, in which I argue that the original play's dynamics of trying and judging gender, gender-crossing, and feminist power are also the faultlines that have affected the modern Greek reception history of Aristophanes' Thesmophoriazusae. 2 [End Page 407]All the characters of the 411 B.C.E.Thesmophoriazusae, both female and male (whether Euripides, Mnesilochus, Cleisthenes, or Agathon), assess gender-bending figures and pass (formal or informal) judgment on them. Even though judging was an activity reserved for men in antiquity, both parties here evaluate each other and each other's appearances and acts, whether public or private, dramatic, literary, or sexual. On the modern Greek stage, this fantasy of judging the opposite or opposing sex, this plot of trying—and trying on—the other gender has been reworked in diverse ways. 3 On a metaphorical level, the modern Greek reception of Thesmophoriazusae frequently mirrored the offstage as well as onstage conditions of sex-based judging, and accepting or rejecting, that have characterized the play's internal dynamics. Thus, the study of the modern Greek revival tradition of Aristophanes' Thesmophoriazusae can shed light on ancient comedy production and enhance philologists' readings of the classical text, even though this tradition is not the result of a historically continuous process.My paper analyzes three trends in the Greek reception history of Thesmophoriazusae from the vantage point of judgment of, and prejudice against, women. It outlines an evolution from an antifeminist to a neutral to a feminist treatment of the original play. Only belatedly did the Greek male theater world deem women "worthy" enough (or "unworthy" enough—in some detractors' eyes) to participate in the making of the Aristophanic revival on stage, whether as actresses, spectators, or theater directors. Greek actresses, female theatergoers, and female stage producers faced real challenges of prejudice and prohibition before they were given access to the modern Greek revival tradition of Thesmophoriazusae. Most of these challenges resembled the problems and barriers to women posed by Greek revivals of Aristophanes' very popular Lysistrata and Ecclesiazusae. 4 But, as a comedy inspired by ancient women's rituals and carried by topical, literary, and paratragedic humor, Thesmophoriazusae especially evoked little interest among Greek stage directors, contemporary audiences, and critics. Between the years 1951 and 1998, there were only eight new productions of Thesmophoriazusae at either the Athens or the Epidaurus summer festivals, as opposed to nearly a dozen new productions [End Page 408] of Ecclesiazusae and approximately fifteen new productions (and numerous repeat performances) of Lysistrata. 5The long-perceived problem has been how to make Thesmophoriazusae, with all its idiosyncrasies, not only relevant but also amusing. Late twentieth-century directors, both in Greece and abroad, tend to look for a balance between adhering to the original text and updating the comedy's ritual, literary... (shrink)

This paper attempts an analysis of Eusebius' polemical construction of Greek identity in his fifteen-book apologetic text, the Praeparatio Evangelica (written c. 315 c.e.). In particular, I argue that to limit Greek identity in this text to a religious position fails to appreciate the ethnic nature of Greekness for Eusebius and hence misconstrues his argument. If we attend to the ethnic vocabulary in the Praeparatio, Eusebius' argumentation can be better analyzed. His argument is then shown to center upon (...) a polemical retelling of Greek origins and a hostile portrayal of key Greek forefathers. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:‘Reading’ Greek Death: To the End of the Classical PeriodJoseph W. Day and Leslie Preston DayChristiane Sourvinou-Inwood. ‘Reading’ Greek Death: To the End of the Classical Period. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995. xiv + 489 pp. 11 pls. Cloth, $79.This important book contributes much to the growing, though divided, scholarship on Greek mortuary practice as a system of behavior that reflected and constructed eschatological, religious, and (...) socio-political attitudes and ideologies. Distancing herself strongly from I. Morris’ historical analysis of mortuary data (Burial in Ancient Society [1987]; Death-Ritual and Social Structure in Classical Antiquity [1992]), with its rejection of what he sees as limiting text- and object-based approaches, S-I derives cultural attitudes from texts like Homer and artifacts like the archaic grave monument. Her approach to this conventional material is hardly conventional, however, nor are its results.Chapter 1, which most classicists could read with benefit, explains S-I’s reader-oriented method; but methodology is foregrounded throughout, especially the semiological principle that no element of a text or artifact, independent of its context, has a fixed meaning for readers. S-I recreates ancient readings of grave monuments, epitaphs, literary texts, and other artifacts accordingly, by reconstructing the cultural lenses through which contemporaries would have interpreted such an artifact (that is, their attitudes to death, expectations about relevant genres, and other aspects of their cultural repertoire). To alleviate the dangers of circularity inherent in such approaches, S-I constructs, and criticizes others for failing to construct, several independent arguments to support each point. Though “very idiosyncratic post-structuralist” (113), S-I’s method can be compared to recent semiological, cultural, and functional approaches to literary and artistic “texts” (e.g., C. Dougherty and L. Kurke, Cultural Poetics in Archaic Greece [1993]) and inscriptions (e.g., D. T. Steiner, The Tyrant’s Writ [1994]).Chapter 2 deals with views of the afterlife in the Homeric poems and with beliefs about the dead from the Late Bronze Age to the seventh century. For S-I, Homer represents the culture of eighth-century Ionia, and she uses the poems to show later eighth-century attitudes toward death. This is too facile a solution to complex Homeric problems, and while her analysis of the beliefs reflected in the poems is excellent, she does not apply archaeological evidence to demonstrate that this analysis is relevant to eighth-century Greece. She sees two attitudes in the poems: the predominant belief that “everyone must die,” a simple statement of the inevitability of death without any idea of reward and punishment, and the nascent idea that a few individuals can achieve happiness and even immortality after death. She debunks the theory that this latter concept of Elysion comes from Minoan Crete. What she does not do is use archaeological evidence to support her hypotheses. As she rightly points out, reconstructing “belief systems on the basis of archaeological data is a complex and problematic enterprise” (90); [End Page 645] but given the hundreds of burials excavated all over the Greek world from this period, it seems amazing that she refers to them so little. S-I is not unfamiliar with archaeological evidence and uses it to good account in discussing Minoan and Mycenaean burial practices, and she makes excellent use of sculpture and vase painting in chapters 3 and 5; but she chooses not to use actual burial data for Homeric beliefs, perhaps partly in response to Morris. Chapter 2 supplies a useful background for the study of archaic grave markers, but the unwary classicist should know that a methodologically rigorous archaeologist, in particular, will have trouble with it, as with Morris, although for different reasons.Morris and his methodology come under heavy attack in the lengthy Appendix. While some find Morris’ model-building methodology problematic, it is widely accepted by anthropologists looking for an objective method akin to scientific hypothesis testing. S-I opposes this methodology because of its a priori assumptions, yet no methodology is free of cultural bias. We need a variety of approaches, and archaeology must be allowed to give its evidence without either being forced into Morris’ a priori models or S-I’s (and the traditional... (shrink)

Pindar's victory songs teem with divinity. By exploring them within the lived religious landscapes of the fifth century BCE, Hanne Eisenfeld demonstrates that they are in fact engaged in theological work. Focusing on a set of mythical figures whose identities blur the boundaries between mortality and immortality, she newly interprets the value of immortality in the epinician corpus. Pindar's depiction of these figures responds to and shapes contemporary religious experience and revalues mortality as a prerequisite for the glory found in (...) victory. The book combines close reading and philological analysis with religious historical approaches to Pindar's songs and his world. It highlights the inextricability of Greek literature and Greek religion, and models a novel approach to Greek lyric poetry at the intersection of these fields. (shrink)

Were the Greek novels titled according to a consistent convention? This article confronts the view that the original titles were always historiographical in form (Assyriaka, Lesbiaka, Aithiopika, etc.) and that readers were thus steered to expect, in the first instance, realistic narrative. Examining the evidence in detail, it argues that the formula the novels were likeliest to have shared was ta kata + girl's name (or girl's + boy's names). On this basis, it is concluded that what the titles (...) of the novels promised was primarily invasive narratives of private life. (shrink)

In the summer of 1486, Pico came into possession of what he regarded as the original Chaldean text of the Chaldean Oracles, whose Greek text thus came to appear to him as an incomplete and flawed translation. The now-lost purported original Chaldean Oracles were a back translation infused with kabbalistic elements produced by Flavius Mithridates. In his Conclusiones nongentae (Rome, 1486), however, Pico devoted to them fifteen conclusions. Through an overall analysis of these conclusions, the first part of the (...) article points out the kabbalistic themes and symbols that Pico descried in the original Chaldean Oracles. In the second part, an in-depth analysis of one of these conclusiones demonstrates that Pico’s reading of the oracle quoted therein implied that the Greek translator had missed the kabbalistic purport of the original. The article shows that Pico’s Conclusiones aimed at pointing out that the transmission of kabbalah to Zoroaster and from Zoroaster (although not without misinterpretations) to the Greek world – in other words, the existence of a divinely revealed prisca theologia transmitted through the ages – could be demonstrated on the basis of philological analysis and that, according to Pico, insofar as they provided a philological reconstruction of that science and its transmission, the Conclusiones should be reckoned as the culmination of the studia humanitatis. (shrink)