Read thus the simile presents nothing eccentric. In ver. 101 Hosius and Lejay read male separat, which not only common sense requires but codd. VUQ authorize: not so Mr. Haskins, who follows a multitude of codd. in offering mare separat. But a slight further correction is necessary: to read Aegaeon in 103 for the MS. Aegeo, ‘Withdraw the land, and Aegaean would smash Ionian Sea.’ Those who make Isthmos the subject of frangat cite Stat. Silu. IV. iii. 59.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Minerva Rava An Torva?Anastasios G. Nikolaidis1. Ovid Ars 2.659: Si paeta est, Veneri similis, si torva, Minervaetorva Merkel: flava R in marg. cum plerisque codd.: rava Heinsius: parva R cum aliquot dett.: fulva F.2. Priapea 36.4: Minerva torvo lumine est, Venus paetotorvo scripsi: flavo libri edd. vett.: flava et post hoc verbum commate interpunxit De Rooy (probant Vollmer, Clairmont, Parker): ravo Haupt: glauco Antonius.IMost codices for line 2.659 (...) of Ovid's Ars amatoria give flava in place of torva, but this reading does not suit the context (Ovid is suggesting ways of moderating the flaws of one's puella), which requires a word with a negative connotation.1 Among the proposed emendations, Heinsius' rava has been adopted by almost all editors of the Ars, but the elusive meaning of this adjective, in conjunction with its very limited use by the Latin poets and some other considerations that I explore below, allow us to look at this emendation afresh. In fact, apart from its appearance in the two lines under discussion, ravus seems to have been employed only on two other occasions, and only by Horace; and in one of them it is not the only codices reading (see note 11 below).2As a color term, ravus suggests a grey-yellowish or grey-bluish tinge, which corresponds to the implications of the Greek.3 The Greek word, however, was more extensively employed (see the respective [End Page 81] entries in LSJ and OLD) and more varied in meaning. With reference to eyes, for example, charopos appears to denote either the color of the iris (mostly in prose) or the flash, the glow of the gaze (nearly always in poetry; see note 5), which in turn may be due either to exuberant joy4 or-albeit not as frequently-to unrestrained fury.5 It appears, however, that in reference to human eyes charopos is a more or less complimentary term,6 whereas in reference to the eyes of animals, it carries rather negative overtones, whether it describes the color of the eyes or thegleam in them.7 We can thus account for the last explanation of charopos in Hesychius' Lexicon (). It seems that the connotation of the fierce glare, the awe-inspiring gaze, passed, at least to a small extent (see references in LSJ), from animals to humans, so that in a Lucian passage the goddess Athena is disparagingly depicted as charope (Dial. deor. 23.1: ).8 [End Page 82]It would follow, then, that rava, as applied to Minerva in the Ars amatoria passage, cannot refer to the color connotations of charopos (for these are positive)9 but only to the notion of a fierce glare, as is indeed appropriate to the warlike Athena.10 It may not be accidental, after all, that just before the first appearance of Athena in Homer (A 206), it is the glaring eyes of the goddess, not their color, that we encounter: (A 200; cf. Eustathius's commentary).11 On the other hand, one could argue that the eye color that the Greeks liked (charopon) was one that the Romans disliked (in which case rava would be appropriate), but the only evidence for this comes from the two passages we are discussing here.12 [End Page 83]In my view, the shortcoming in the puella that Ovid wants moderated is her grim, sullen countenance, her glaring look, not the color of her eyes. This is somewhat corroborated by the paeta of the first hemistich (again a kind of look, not color)13 and the comparison with Athena, who, as a war goddess, would have looked fierce. Yet, the adjective rava is not only used nowhere else by Ovid in any context;14 it is never attributed to Athena/Minerva/Pallas throughout Latin poetry.15 Even in Lucretius 4.1161, where the context is almost identical with that of Ars amatoria 2.659, Athena is only indirectly described as caesia (which translates see Aul. Gell. 2.26.19 and cf. André 1949, 178f.), a quality that is actually never attributed to Minerva by Latin poets (see Carter 1902, 113).16 By contrast, the adjective torvus... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Appian and the Aftermath of the Gracchan ReformDaniel J. GargolaAppian's History of the Gracchan reform is arguably the single most detailed and coherent account of it. Early in the first book of his Civil Wars he outlines the development of a crisis in the countryside and the terms of the law Ti. Sempronius Gracchus (tr. pl. 133) proposed to remedy it; he describes the struggle to pass the measure (...) and efforts of the tribune's opponents to block it; he tells of attempts to implement the law in the years after Tiberius' death; and he summarizes the legislative agenda and the political activities of C. Gracchus, Tiberius' younger brother, when he was tribune of the plebs in 123 and 122. Appian brings his history of the Gracchi to a close with a description of a series of laws put forward in the years following the death of the younger Gracchus and the ways they reversed earlier gains. Land reform continued to be a central issue in the conflicts that would bring the Roman Republic to an end, and historians often have relied upon Appian's short description of post–Gracchan legislation to reconstruct the politics of the matter in the last two decades of the second century. After all, he provides the only surviving overview of the agrarian legislation of these years. But scholars have found it difficult to reconcile Appian's claims with other evidence. The problem, a closer inspection will show, lies in the assumption that Appian produced or intended to produce a straightforward and unbiased account and the resulting conviction that these measures should be easily and readily identifiable. Instead I argue here that Appian has presented a highly schematic version of events that reveals more about his methods as a historian than it does about the laws themselves or the policies of those who proposed them.Appian's Account and Modern Interpretations of ItAt first glance Appian's version (BC 1.27.121–24) of the aftermath of reform is simple and straightforward. Using the death of C. Gracchus [End Page 555] as his starting point, Appian first reports the passage of a law permitting recipients of allotments to sell them and then claims that the rich immediately bought the land from the poor or took it by force. After this, a tribune, Spurios Borios or Bourios in the manuscripts, successfully proposed a law ending the distribution of public land, which those in possession were to own on payment of a rent, and establishing instead a distribution of the funds raised in this fashion. Not much later, another tribune put an end to the rent and the distribution of money that depended upon it. As a result, Appian holds, the people lost everything, and there were still fewer citizens and soldiers. He finishes with a reference to a fifteen–year period, although an apparent lacuna makes its significance uncertain.Efforts to anchor this account firmly in the proper historical context have focused on a range of issues that have proven remarkably difficult to resolve.1 The first problem concerns the relationship, if any, between Appian's three laws and other agrarian legislation known to have been enacted in the years following the death of C. Gracchus. Cicero is the sole source for one measure. On two occasions he makes vague references to a law of Sp. Thorius that probably was passed in the latter half of the penultimate decade of the century.2 Neither is very informative. One merely records a jest involving the pasturing of animals on public lands made in the course of a senatorial debate on a lex Thoria.3 The second is potentially more useful. In Brutus (136) Cicero notes briefly the qualities as a speaker of a Sp. Thorius and connects him with a law regulating public lands: Sp. Thorius satis valuit in populari genere dicendi, is qui agrum publicum vitiosa et inutili lege vectigali [vectigale codd.] levavit. These brief remarks provide the sole grounds for emending [End Page 556] the name of the author of Appian's second measure, Spurios Borios or Bourios, to Sp. Thorius.4Unfortunately, Cicero's seemingly simple characterization of the Thorian... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Penelope in Ovid's Metamorphoses 14.671Mark PossanzaIn a passage in Ovid's Metamorphoses, book 14, the god Vertumnus, who has transformed himself into an old woman, is speaking to the orchardist nymph Pomona, who finds plants and trees more companionable than the opposite sex:1concubitusque fugis nec te coniungere curas.atque utinam uelles! Helene non pluribus essetsollicitata procis nec quae Lapitheia mouitproelia nec coniunx +timidi aut+ audacis Vlixei.(668-71) timidi aut codd.Vertumnus offers (...) three mythological exempla, Helen, Hippodamia, and Penelope, to persuade the nymph that if she did show an interest in men, she would attract more suitors than those illustrious heroines. Although the reference to Penelope in 671 is obvious and the epithet audacis looks genuine, it is not clear whether what lies hidden under the corrupt +timidi aut+ has to do with Penelope or Ulysses.2 Most of the proposed [End Page 89] emendations are based on the assumption that the words after coniunx belong to an epithet phrase that describes Ulysses.3 Of these, timidis audacis Vlixei, adopted by Heinsius from Vaticanus Barberinianus Lat. 70 (13th cent.),4 seems by far the least implausible, although the super fi cial attractions of the collocation timidis audacis begin to fade when one considers that the addition of timidis fits neither Ulysses nor the context. If we take audax as an epithet expressing a permanent quality of the hero, then timidus unduly limits the range of that quality embodied in audax, a quality that allowed Ulysses to best foes, the Cyclops, for example, who certainly cannot be called timidus. If, on the other hand, we are to interpret the combination of timidus and audax as the speaker's jibe at Ulysses' pretensions to heroic valor,5 it must be pointed out that such a jibe, while appropriate in the mouth of an Ajax, is completely out of place here where suitors, courtship, and sex are uppermost in the speaker's mind, not the ranking of Achaean warriors.6 Moreover, the [End Page 90] epithet phrase timidis audacis, by virtue of its riddling quality (are we to think of the encounter with Dolon? the slaughter of the suitors?) distracts attention from Penelope herself, who is, after all, the exemplum. In short, the addition of timidus either disparages the heroic stature of Ulysses in a context where such disparagement is clearly out of place or undercuts the force of the Penelope exemplum by giving prominence to the husband, when in fact it is Penelope who is the more important of the two.I want, therefore, to suggest that in its original form the line contained an epithet for Penelope, prudens, which can be taken as the equivalent of the Homeric epithet most often applied to Penelope, 7: line 671 would then read "proelia nec coniunx prudens audacis Vlixei." It may be coincidence that prudens, corresponding to Homeric, identifies the unnamed coniunx through her characteristic trait, which associates her with Pomona, who exhibits that same trait in shunning suitors. And it may be coincidence that prudens produces with audacis a pleasing iunctura that is worthy of our poet, bringing together the distinctive and contrasting traits of husband and wife that helped to make possible their reunion.8 But that both of these coincidences should occur within the metrical space () occupied by the corruption timidi [End Page 91] aut is one coincidence too many, especially in a context where Penelope's prudentia and Ulysses' audacia are relevant to the situation of Pomona and Vertumnus.There is more to these epithets than the clever collocation of contrasting traits. When a lover in disguise (Vertumnus), speaking to his beloved (Pomona), cites Penelope as an example of a woman much sought after by suitors, the poet achieves a heightening of the erotic tension through the Penelope exemplum because the meeting between Pomona and the disguised Vertumnus recalls the meetings between Ulysses, disguised as a beggar, and his wife, Penelope, in the Odyssey. In its present context the exemplum suggests that the revelation of identity, though long delayed (Odysseus' by his taking revenge on the suitors and Vertumnus' by his telling of the Iphis-Anaxarete tale), will bring the two... (shrink)

Euripides, Medea 11–13 :12 πολιτν codd. et Σbv; πολίταις V3, sicut coni. Barnes 13 ατ Sakorrphos; ατή codd. et gE et Stob. 4.23.30In his recent discussion of this passage , Diggle has convincingly argued for πολίταις and ατ, the latter of which he places in his new Oxford text, but recognises that υγ remains highly problematic : ‘The truth, I think, is still to seek’. It is to this last difficulty that I should like to suggest a solution.The (...) problems of υγ are syntactical, as Diggle clearly demonstrates : ‘With which verb is υγ to be constructed?’ Of these νδάνουσα is more likely for position, ίκετο for sense; but the former construction produces an obscurity, the latter an unacceptable hyperbaton. Another complicating element is the juxtaposition υγ πολιτν. it is clearly significant, and by its intervention appears to prevent taking υγ as π κοινο with both verbs, the third possible construction.As a solution I should like to revive a forgotten conjecture of Pierson's, made in his Verisimilia . His υγς πολίταις appears both to solve all the syntactical problems and to give appropriate point to the juxtaposition of ‘exile’ and ‘citizen’. υγάς would then go with νδάνουσα and bear a concessive sense: ‘pleasing, though an exile, the citizens to whose land she came’, a nuance found already in Wecklein's paraphrase of his text υγ πολιτν. ‘Sie gefällt denen, in deren Land sie gekommen ist, obwohl sie die Bürgerschaft als eine fremde, landesflüchtige Person gegenübersteht’. This contrast between citizen and exile and the necessity for the latter to please the former are naturally important themes in the dramatic situation of the Medea — cf. Medea's words at 222 χρ δ ξένον μν κάρτα προσχωρεν πόλει, with Page's note. (shrink)

Berger and Mylopoulos (2019) critique recent scepticism about unconscious perception, focusing on experimental work from Peters and Lau, and theoretical work of my own. Central to their wide-ranging discussion is the claim that unconscious perception occupies a default status within both experimental and folk psychology. Here, I argue to the contrary that a conscious-perception-only model should be our default. Along the way, I offer my own analysis of Peters and Lau's study, assess the folk psychological status of unconscious perception, discuss (...) vision-for-action, and confront an important dilemma which Berger and Mylopoulos raise for the sceptic concerning the existence of unconscious mentality in general. (shrink)

D2.1 (PL models and assignments) i. A PL model is a pair M = 〈DM, ·M〉 such that (a) DM is a non-empty set, and (b) ·M maps each A ∈ Con to AM ∈ DM, and each B ∈ Prdn to BM  (DM)n. ii. GM = {g| g: Var  DM} is the set of M-assignments. For any g ∈ GM, u ∈ Var, d ∈ DM, g[u/d] := (g\{u, g(u)})  {u, d} is the u-to-d alternative to (...) g. (shrink)

Feeling out of place because he is the only elephant who sings, Little Elephant sets off a journey to find a home where he belongs.

If there is an inherent connection between love and generosity, between love and creativeness, as this book argues there is, then how can love itself be selfish, destructive and tyrannical? Concerned with questions about love in its different forms, this book seeks and discusses the views of writers--Plato, Proust, Sartre, Freud, D. H. Lawrence, Erich Fromm, C. S. Lewis, Kierkegaard, Simone Weil and Kahlil Gibran--who have suggested distinctive solutions to the problems which love poses in the face of its obstacles. (...) The enquiry which the book undertakes emcompasses both the conceptual and existential experience of love. (shrink)

Boehm reasons that human morality began when several heads of households formed a coalition to limit the despotic bullying of an alpha male. The logic is clear and the argument is persuasive. The premises require that: dominant individuals behave like chimpanzees, bullying their subordinates, early humans somehow developed one-male units from a chimpanzee like society and, the power of a despot is limited by group consensus and political activities. Not all alpha males behave like chimpanzees; most primate societies show little (...) evidence of bullying. One-male units are formed by some monkeys but there is little evidence of such tendencies in chimpanzees and bonobos. Hamadryas males do not compete with familiar males for females or possessions regardless of their dominance relationships, but this inhibition is not based on group consensus or coalitions repressing alpha males. Boehm's argument is, nonetheless, possible and plausible but cannot be empirically tested. (shrink)