Scholarship on the late fifth-century BC New Music Revolution has mostly relied on the evidence provided by Athenaeus, the pseudo-Plutarch De musica and a few other late sources. To this date, however, very little has been done to understand Athenaeus' own rale in shaping our understanding of the musical culture of that period. This article argues that the historical context provided by Athenaeus in the section of the Deipnosophistae that cites passages of Melanippides, Telestes and Pratinas on the mythology of (...) the aulos (14.616e-617f) is not a credible reflection of the contemporary aestheties and strategies of the authors and their works. Athenaeus is both following the structure of Aristotle's discussion of the topic of the aulos in Politics 8. 1341a-1342b and accepting the elite ideological position given there. Athenaeus' text thus does not provide evidence for the historical context in which late fifth-century authors were composing, but rather constitutes an attempt to illustrate Aristotle's argument with poetic examples from late fifth-century poets. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Timothée de Milet: le poète et le musicien by Gérard LambinPauline A. LeVenGérard Lambin. Timothée de Milet: le poète et le musicien. Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2013. 212pp. Paper, €16.The image on the cover of Gérard Lambin’s monograph, Timothée de Milet: le poète et le musicien, is a Moreau painting entitled “Dead Poet Carried by a Centaur.” This illustration can be regarded as a programmatic statement for (...) the claim made on the jacket: to make the late fifth-century b.c.e. lyricist, Timotheus of Miletus, come out of the shadows by “offer[ing] the most complete synthesis about an author who had remained unknown for a long time and set[ting] him in his poetic and musical universe.” The book is the first monograph in French devoted exclusively to Timotheus and the first original publication in French on the topic since 1904 (the year that saw a flurry of articles in the wake of the discovery of the papyrus of Timotheus’ Persians in 1903 and the publication of its editio princeps by Wilamowitz). Lambin’s study is composed of two parts: the first presents aspects of the biography of Timotheus and features of the so-called “New Music”; the second describes Timotheus’ poetic and musical output. While sections of the second part offer some of the most sensitive and refreshing pieces of literary criticism I have read on Timotheus’ poetry, the first part, and especially the first chapter, is much less satisfying, as one would wish to see Lambin engage more with methodological problems.“The Man and his Oeuvre” (chap. 1) sounds at first deliciously quaint: it opens with the Suda entry devoted to Timotheus and continues with a compilation of ancient testimonies about the poet (most of them available in the testimonia part of the fifth volume of Campbell’s Loeb edition of Greek Lyric Poetry). Lambin presents a dossier of biographical snippets plucked from ancient authors ranging from Timotheus’ fifth-century b.c.e. contemporaries (Pherecrates) to fourth-century c.e. authors (Themistius), and evaluates their verisimilitude, without clearly defining his criteria for adoption or rejection. The whole chapter synthesizes these short extracts (with accessible and elegant translations) into [End Page 361] a complete, cohesive account of the life of the poet and the era he lived in. The narrative gets particularly vivid at times, and the reader is pleasantly led to fantasize about the world of Timotheus: “protected, admired, rid of all material care, Timotheus must have known in Pella one of the happiest periods of his life, far from the conservatism of a certain elite, for whom the New Music represented everything that was bad about democracy, but also far from the cat-calls and jokes from an Athenian public too quick to mock him” (13). It is clear that Lambin likes his author and wants to provide the reader with a vibrant picture of a flesh-and-bones poet.But once the charm of the historical fiction wears out, Lambin’s cursory analysis of the testimonia is likely to frustrate readers trained to regard ancient “biographical” notices with a healthy dose of skepticism. Take the case of the anecdote from Plutarch (14–15), describing the relationship between Timotheus and King Archelaos: “As Timotheus, the citharode, who had received less than he had hoped, reproached [Archelaos] openly and alluded to the situation by singing the following line: ‘you promise (aineis) earth-born silver,’ Archelos replied ‘and you ask’ (aiteis) for it.” Lambin (deftly translating the pun in Greek with the paronomasia promets / promeuts) comments on the contrast between the situation of Timotheus and that of poets who lived “before the Muse, as Pindar says, became mercenary.” The vague reference to the Pindaric expression is not helpful, however, as it oversimplifies the issue by assimilating two different times and sets of economic conditions (Pindar’s, composing for private patrons, and Timotheus’, composing for public competitions or communities). Moreover, no interpretation is given of the way Plutarch engages with the anecdotal topos of the poet’s relationship with money: one only has to think about the many anecdotes about the cheapskate... (shrink)