The elegy flared into existence, commanded the cultural stage for several decades, then went extinct. This book accounts for the swift rise and sudden decline of a genre whose life span was incredibly brief relative to its impact. Examining every major poet from Catullus to Ovid, Subjecting Verses presents the first comprehensive history of Latin erotic elegy since Georg Luck's. Paul Allen Miller harmoniously weds close readings of the poetry with insights from theoreticians as diverse as Jameson, (...) Foucault, Lacan, and Zizek. In welcome contrast to previous, thematic studies of elegy--efforts that have become bogged down in determining whether particular themes and poets were pro- or anti-Augustan--Miller offers a new, "symptomatic" history. He asks two obvious but rarely posed questions: what historical conditions were necessary to produce elegy, and what provoked its decline? Ultimately, he argues that elegiac poetry arose from a fundamental split in the nature of subjectivity that occurred in the late first century--a split symptomatic of the historical changes taking place at the time. Subjecting Verses is a major interpretive feat whose influence will reach across classics and literary studies. Linking the rise of elegy with changes in how Romans imagined themselves within a rapidly changing society, it offers a new model of literary theory that neither reduces the poems to a reflection of their context nor examines them in a vacuum. (shrink)

Poetic translation of Tibullus Elegy I.3.

While different in their approaches, structure and intended readership, the four books reviewed here are connected by their common aim of responding to traditional views of elegy as a minor, ‘softer’ genre, which stands in binary opposition to the magniloquence of epic. These books thus build upon long-established developments in the field of Latin literary criticism, which have contributed to a general reassessment, and deconstruction, of the taxonomic categorisations of Latin texts, and Latin poetry more specifically, (...) pointing out its generic fluidity (e.g. J.E.G. Zetzel, ‘Re-Creating the Canon: Augustan Poetry and the Alexandrian Past’, Critical Inquiry 10 [1983], 83–105; G.B. Conte, The Rhetoric of Imitation: Genre and Poetic Memory in Virgil and Other Latin Poets, ed. tr. C. Segal [1986]). Notably, R.O.A.M. Lyne's study on Virgil's Aeneid (R.O.A.M. Lyne, Further Voices in Vergil's Aeneid [1992]) exemplifies this renewed interest in identifying unaligned and ambiguous perspectives (‘further voices’), especially within poetic texts composed in the Augustan or early imperial period. It is no surprise that the elegiac contents have catalysed these underlying streams of ambiguous, unsettled and self-reflective discourse, which – once allowed into the literary landscape of Latin poetry – shake generic boundaries. That Virgil did not write anything that can be formally regarded as elegy, stricto sensu, makes his oeuvre a promising space of enquiry for oblique and subterranean elegiac resonances. (shrink)

The Oxford Classical Texts, or Scriptorum Classicorum Bibliotheca Oxoniensis, are renowned for their reliability and presentation. The series consists of a text without commentary but with a brief apparatus criticus at the foot of each page. There are now over 100 volumes, representing the greater part of classical Greek and Latin literature. The Aim of the series remains that of including the works of all the principal classical authors. Although this has been largely accomplished, new volumes are still being (...) published to fill the remaining gaps, and old editions are being revised in the light of recent research or replaced. (shrink)

International array of contributors, bringing together both traditional and more recent approaches to provide valuable insights into the poets’ use of language.Covers authors from Lucilius to Juvenal.Of the peoples of ancient Italy, only the Romans committed newly composed poems to writing, and for 250 years Latin-speakers developed an impressive verse literature.The language had traditional resources of high style, e.g., alliteration, lexical and morphological archaism or grecism, and of course metaphor and word order; and there were also less obvious resources (...) in the technical vocabularies of law, philosophy and medicine.The essays in this volume show how the poets in the classical period combined these elements, and so created a poetic medium that could comprehend satire, invective, erotic elegy, drama, lyric, and the grandest heroic epos. (shrink)

The sixty years between 43 BC, when Cicero was assassinated, and AD 17, when Ovid died in exile and disgrace, saw an unexampled explosion of literary creativity in Rome. Fresh ground was broken in almost every existing genre, and a new kind of specifically Roman poetry, the personal love-elegy, was born, flourished, and succumbed to its own success. Latin literature now became, in the familiar modern sense of the word, classical: a balanced fusion of what was best and (...) most stimulating in earlier Greek and Roman writing, charged with new and original life by the individual genius of, most particularly, Virgil, Horace and Ovid. Augustan literature, conventionally viewed as the expression in writing of the age itself - political and social stability reflected in artistic equilibrium - turns out on a close and critical reading to have been subject to the same stresses and strains as the society in and for which it was produced. In appraising the monumental literary achievements of the age the underlying tensions and contradictions are not ignored. The critical discussions in this volume do full justice to the complexity and subtlety of the literature itself. (shrink)

Drawing on a range of sources such as Roman oratory, love elegy, Carmina Priapea and Petronius, the paper claims that the Priapic model of Roman Sexuality entails a particularly vulnerable form of male sexuality which can best be observed in descriptions of young men in the transitional period to manhood, such as, e.g., Achilles in Statius' Achilleis.

This article argues for an emendation to Ovid, Amores 3.9, Ovid's lament for Tibullus. The transmitted text of line 59 would seem to present a contradiction: Ovid speculates about aliquid nisi nomen et umbra surviving death, and then proceeds in the next few lines to identify that aliquid as, precisely, Tibullus’ umbra. Ovid's original text was most likely aliquid nisi nomen et ossa, referring to a burial site and funerary inscription; with this text, Ovid reproduces details from Tibullus 1.3, a (...) poem which he reworks throughout his elegy. (shrink)

The hairdresser who carries Ovid's invitation to his puella in Amores 1.11 is almost immediately blamed for his rejection in 1.12, before that blame is transferred to the tablets carrying that invitation. Nape (the enslaved hairdresser of the puella) has been linked to the character Dipsas, appearing in 1.7, specifically through the descriptor sobria. By focussing on the use of the verb uerto, the reference to the mythical strix, and curses related to the old age of both Dipsas and the (...) tablets in 1.7 and 1.12, this note demonstrates that the supernatural word choice further connects Nape with Dipsas. (shrink)

This dissertation in classics might be of interest for gender studies as well since it is a sustained demonstration how one social and literary sterotype (the elegiac lover -- der elegisch Liebende) is systematically transformed into another (the artist of love -- der Liebeskünstler) as part of generic transformation (turning Latin love elegy into didactic poetry). The counterpart of these stereotypes is the "harsh lady" (dura domina), who is domesticated in the third book of the Ars amatoria. The (...) copyright for the book belongs to the author, who has uploaded it to the site. Please feel free to use it for non-profit purposes. (shrink)

The comparison between Prop. 2, 34, 91-92 and Virg. ecl. 10, 18 allows to argue that Gallus treated Adonis in his love elegy and that he used this character as an exemplum, in the same way of his future followers, in particular Propertius and Ovid. It is possible that he imitated Euphor. fr. 43 Pow., and for this reason we can try to reconstruct his relationship with the models and his freedom in in adapting them to the new elegiac (...) poetry. (shrink)

Conjectures are made on the text of three passages in Tibullus, Books 1–2: 1.4.26 hastam … suam for crines … suos, 2.1.56 membra for bache, 2.4.60 aliis rebus for alias herbas.

By analysing three paradigmatic passages, this paper explores how Prudentius uses classical love motifs and imagery not only to lambast paganism, but also as a powerful rhetorical tool to convey his Christian message. The ‘fire of love’ imagery is conspicuous in Psychomachia 53–57, which wittily blends Christian and erotic language. In an entirely different context, the flamma amoris is also fully exploited to depict lustful young Vestal Virgins, in combination with other classical metaphors of passion, such as the ‘wound of (...) love’ and the signa amoris. Additionally, the contrast between heat and cold is a central element in the description of the Vestals’ tardy nuptials, redolent of classical satirical portraits of vetulae libidinosae. Finally, in Hamartigenia 628–636 the relationship between the soul and God draws from a Christian tradition of bridal representation, but the lapse into sin is portrayed as the love triangle, typical of the Latin love elegy. These examples illustrate how Prudentius creatively and consciously frames love and sex imagery in new contexts, exploring their potential and infusing clichés with new meanings and forms. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Ovid’s Literary Loves: Influence and Innovation in the AmoresBetty Rose NagleBarbara Weiden Boyd. Ovid’s Literary Loves: Influence and Innovation in the Amores. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1997. xii 1 252 pp. Cloth, $39.50.The “literary love affair” (130) in the Amores is as much (or more) an affair conducted with literature as it is one represented in literature. Although Barbara Boyd never puts it that way, this (...) is the essence of her argument. In her reading, this three-book collection of amatory elegies is the narrative of Ovid’s early career as a poet. This novel use of the genre—for literary autobiography—is one of the ways in which Ovid expands its boundaries. In Ovid’s Literary Loves Boyd intends to help readers appreciate the originality of the Amores, in part by showing in it the beginnings of that interest in redefining generic boundaries which in the past decade we have come to recognize, through the work of Stephen Hinds and others, as a hallmark of Ovid’s whole corpus.In her introduction, “The Isolation of Ovid’s Amores,” Boyd digests and assesses the current opinion about Ovid’s collection. Its “literary isolation” has resulted from the combined effects of the “generic fallacy” and what she calls the “progressive fallacy.” The latter (her own coinage) is the critical position which holds either that “what comes first is worst” or that “what comes last is worst” (5); accordingly, the Amores are early Ovid and hence inferior, and Ovid is the last of the elegists and hence inferior. As an antidote to the “generic fallacy” Boyd proposes James Zetzel’s “challenge of generic freedom,” itself the latest variation of Kroll’s “Kreuzung der Gattungen.” [End Page 468]Chapter 1, “Reused Language: Genre and Influence in the Interpretation of the Amores,” takes its point of departure from a comparison of the two propemptica Am. 2.11 and Propertius 1.8a. Boyd sets out “both to simplify and to clarify a method for reading imitation in the Amores” (19), and in doing so she makes a substantial contribution to the typology of imitation in Latin literature as a whole. She does this by bringing together two unlikely bedfellows, integrating G. P. Goold’s ideas about Ovid’s “formulae” and “instinctive” versification with G. B. Conte’s concepts of “poetic memory” and poetic language as “reused language.” She also employs Conte’s distinction between “exemplary model” (verbatim imitation) and “code model” (the system of generic rules familiar beforehand) and Richard Thomas’s preference for the term “reference” instead of “imitation.” For her purposes she distinguishes (30–31) between a “parallel,” which may “simply be a common topos” (30) rather than an actual imitation; a “formula,” which may be “a very precise mark of a poetic tradition” (30) without making a specific reference; and a “reference,” which is likely to engage with a whole tradition rather than simply allude to a single source. Finally, she distinguishes (47) “external allusion” (to another poet) from “self-imitation,” which in turn is differentiated into “’internal reference’ proper” (to an earlier poem in the same collection) and “self-imitation” (“reference across works”). These latter may well be, as she claims, “two different, though related, phenomena” (47), but “self-imitation” is not relevant to Boyd’s own discussion until her last chapter. In posing the question “How do we recognize ‘imitation’?” she distinguishes between imitation of “form and theme” (33) and imitation of “content” (34), using the latter term rather idiosyncratically to include “precise features, such as style, diction, and metrical character” (34).Chapter 2, “Literary Means and Ends: Ovid’s Ludus Poeticus,” continues the treatment of imitation in considering Ovid’s practice of “multiple allusion” (67, 89), according to Boyd “an aspect of his style that is far too little recognized and understood” (67). The goal is to clarify how Ovid views his literary past and what meaning his sources have for his use of them—in brief, as she neatly summarizes, “to move beyond equating Ovid’s inspiration and purpose with Propertius and parody, respectively” (50). She shows how in creating Sulmo as a literary landscape (Am. 2.16... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Juvenal: Satires, Book IRichard A. LaFleurSusanna Morton Braund, ed. Juvenal: Satires, Book I. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. viii 1 323 pp. Cloth, $64.95; paper, $22.95. (Cambridge Greek and Latin Classics)This new text and commentary on Juvenal’s book 1 (Satires 1–5) is for two reasons a most welcome addition to the Cambridge Greek and Latin Classics series. First, Susanna Braund has published extensively and incisively on (...) Roman satire, Juvenal in particular, over the past fifteen years; her several articles and the books Beyond Anger: A Study of Juvenal’s Third Book of Satires (Cambridge 1988), Roman Verse Satire (Greece and Rome New Surveys in the Classics no. 23, Oxford 1992), and The Roman Satirists and Their Masks (Bristol 1996) have all made valuable contributions to our understanding of the genre. Second, modern editions of Juvenal with text and commentary are in short supply (J. Ferguson’s remains the best in English; see my combined review of his 1979 Macmillan and E. Courtney’s important but expensive, and textless, 1980 commentary in CJ 79 [1984] 257–62), and Braund’s work, while it includes only the satirist’s first book, not only offers enough material for an undergraduate course (nearly a thousand lines) but elucidates the volume’s thematic unity in a way that will enhance our students’ appreciation of Juvenal’s later books as well and of Roman poetry books in general.The book’s apparatus is standard for the Cambridge series: a succinct but helpful and up-to-date bibliography and brief index conclude the volume, and the forty-page introduction discusses Roman verse satire generally, Juvenal’s major predecessors (Lucilius, Horace, and Persius), the little we know for certain of Juvenal’s life, what Braund rightly characterizes as the overarching characteristics of his art—indignation, rhetoric, and epic—along with various details of style and meter, the Satires’ influence on subsequent literature, and finally the manuscript tradition. All of this is economically managed and cogent, not least the discussions on several pertinent topics: persona and the “autobiographical monologue as the chief mode of presentation” in satire as in the other “personal” genres of elegy, lyric, and epigram; indignatio and the “moral ambiguity of anger,” which must condition our response to Laronia in Satire 2, Umbricius in 3, and the other “unreliable satirist” figures who control so much of the rhetoric in Juvenal’s early books; and his exploitation of epic motifs from the [End Page 474] heroic past in depicting the sordid realities of contemporary Rome. One could go further with this last point: it is a major purpose of the epicisms in Juvenal’s programmatic first poem to define satire as anti-epic and its topsy-turvy world and all its players—the satirist included—as utterly anti-heroic. The satirist’s Rome, quintessentially vicious, is on the brink of destruction (omne in praecipiti vitium stetit, 1.149), on the eve of another Great Flood, in fact, like that survived by only Deucalion and Pyrrha (this is the point, deliberately recalling through ring composition the flood sequence in 1.81–84, of utere velis, / totos pande sinus at 1.149–50, a point missed by commentators generally and not just Braund, who explains the phrase simply as a grandiloquent “nautical metaphor” with the sense of “off you go at full pelt”). And yet the best this latter-day Lucilius can do, as he whimpers in Satire 1’s closing verses, is to decline his predecessor’s battle-wagon, helmet, and sword and wage war only against Rome’s villainous dead.The most profitable section of Braund’s introduction is her “Overview of Book I” (30–36), which thoughtfully surveys “the persistence and development” of several dominant themes and images that recur throughout the book: the city of Rome itself, its palaces and alleyways seething with corruption (“the Book is a catalogue of Rome’s vices”); the “degradation of the patron-client relationship (amicitia),” which can be viewed as book 1’s major unifying theme (see Illinois Classical Studies 4 [1979] 158–77); the “day in the life” motif, advancing the action from morning to night both within Satire... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The English Polydaedali:How Gabriel Harvey Read Late Tudor LondonNicholas PopperHarvey and GauricoIn 1590 Gabriel Harvey read his copy of Luca Gaurico's 1552 Tractatus Astrologicus, a collection of genitures and commentaries for cities and individuals.1 Harvey had spent the previous twenty-five years at Oxford and Cambridge, mastering Greek and Latin, earning renown as a rhetorician, and promoting English letters. He was a well-known partisan of the French Calvinist Peter (...) Ramus, whose works on curriculum reform had sparked vicious [End Page 351] controversies in the English universities. But Harvey read Gaurico far removed from the schools where he had acquired fame and notoriety as an orator and poet. He had recently relocated to London, where he daily faced a dense, active city unlike his native Saffron Walden and the university towns. Nevertheless he read as he always had, carefully recording his reactions in the margins of the printed text, filling blank spaces with his own commentaries on the subjects presented by Gaurico. The notes disclose an experience of reading that intervened in contemporary debates regarding technology, astrology and utility.2 They also place Harvey among a group of scholars in London in the 1590s, such as Francis Bacon and Hugh Plat, who were examining the benefits local artisans might offer the commonwealth and reconsidering the intellectual status of craft knowledge.Harvey read and annotated Gaurico on several occasions, but the particular strain of notes that I will follow, united by a common ink and hand, engages the learning and erudition of Gaurico's subjects.3 Concentrated almost [End Page 352] exclusively in Book Four, which discussed learned men, these annotations evaluate the poets, philosophers, philologists, and others whom Gaurico had canonized as especially learned.There are only spare annotations prior to Book Four. On the title page of Book Two, devoted to churchmen, Harvey observes the quality of the individuals Gaurico presented and details his own method of evaluation:The most excellent Exemplars of this century [are] in Gaurico, and Cardano: Giovio, and Guiccardini. There are as many of the wisest men as of the greatest actors. Still others live, whether inferior, equal, or superior. And it is of interest to every skillful artificer, to know those most outstanding in their class, and the most celebrated professors of all. Certainly it is very profitable to observe exquisitely the most perfect artificers either of the world or of neighboring nations, or at least of your own people, and to consider with most cunning reason what it is, where it comes from, and what is most excellent. But seriously, and solidly, and always to the point, seeing that singular things are efficacious and are useful to polytechnoscopy. It is judicious to avoid all trivial detail, and to consider only the most pregnant theorists and practitioners of operating.4The notion of a sophisticated form of active knowledge labeled "polytechnoscopy" is the most striking element of this passage. This term seems to have been Harvey's own invention, with no direct precedents; nor was it adopted or used by others after him.Harvey repeatedly referred to polytechnoscopy in his notes. A carefully designed triptych annotation on the title page of Book Four clarifies it as a category uniting practice and knowledge. To the left Harvey wrote, "it is my task to observe the most excellent examples of this age which are useful for polytechnoscopy." On the right, "a polytechnic, polymechanic, polydaedalic, and almost panepistemic book; and likewise sufficiently polychristian. For philologists should be skimmed through; while polytechnics should be examined closely; as I did not only in the Lives of Giovio, but also in those of [End Page 353] Laertius, Eunapius, Philostratus, and others."5 The related Greek descriptors "polymechanic" and "polydaedalic" shed further light on polytechnoscopy. This constellation of terms refers to a method of garnering information by deploying technical knowledge. While not a systematic discipline, its practices—active applicability, craft expertise, observation of experience—constitute a significant realm of learning.In the central panel of the triptych, Harvey notes:[I] compared [this] to Giovio's Elegies of Learned Men. Give me the best man outdoors, and his image at home. For even true life is... (shrink)

Horace's Asterie ode has been somewhat neglected by critics. Fraenkel, uninterested in the erotic odes, fails to mention it, and others see it as merely counterbalancing the preceding six Roman Odes by its frivolity and light irony. However, it is one of Horace's most subtle and best-organized erotic odes, matching the more obvious conventions of Latin love-elegy with a romanticized Odyssey as an underlying framework.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Cynthia: A Companion to the Text of Propertius by S. J. HeyworthLuigi GalassoS. J. Heyworth. Cynthia: A Companion to the Text of Propertius. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007, first published in paperback 2009 (with corrections). xiii + 648 pp. Paper. £56.Cynthia represents the hypomnemata to the edition of Propertius by Stephen Heyworth. It is an indispensable tool for readers of the new Oxford Classical Text of Propertius and (...) for this reason the contemporary publication of both books has been extremely important. The text edited by Heyworth is so innovative that it was necessary to explain and discuss the editor’s choices. Cynthia is a long dialogue with the reader: Heyworth exposes reflections that are the fruits of decades of engagement with the text of Propertius, and one feels that he speaks with authority.The Preface is brief, but it summarizes the method followed in the book and places the critic in his appropriate setting, where he acknowledges his debts to scholars like J. L. Butrica and G. P. Goold. The true introduction is the one to the edition in the OCT: in fact it is one work in two volumes. The bulk of the book consists of a discussion of passages from the entire work of the Latin poet. [End Page 169] Before each elegy there is an essential bibliography. Then follows a quotation (in the vulgate form of the text) of the passage under discussion; in most cases it is accompanied by the critical apparatus of the OCT edition, with some modifications. All the passages examined are included because of textual problems, even if sometimes one gets the impression of being confronted with purely literary aspects of the text. There is no introduction to any elegy, and it is not in fact necessary: we grasp only what is problematic, and following Heyworth’s guidance we are taken through a stimulating experience. After 512 pages of Propertiana (D. R. Shackleton Bailey’s model is unquestionable), there is a complete translation of the text proposed by the editor, which is particularly useful. His policy is not to avoid any problem but to discuss it honestly without preconceptions. At the end there are rich indexes, which offer easy access to the wealth of linguistic and stylistic observations that are disseminated over the commentary. They also include the preface to the edition in the OCT.It is impossible to deal in a detailed manner with the hundreds of proposals and hypotheses. The editor offers us a completely different Propertius from the poet we have been accustomed to know from the more important editions of the twentieth century (deemed as conservative until the edition by Goold [Cambridge, Mass. 1990]). Following the wishes of Butrica, the elegies of Propertius are now consistent with the judgments of ancient critics, who valued in Propertius “a poet of finish, grace and charm” (M. Hubbard, Propertius [London 1974]:3). The text has undergone a massive restoration and it is readable and fluent: no more the work of an “expressionistic” poet (E. Pasoli) with his idiosyncratic language, but of a contemporary of Tibullus and an immediate predecessor of Ovid. The severe corruptions of the text are no longer visible in its linguistic texture, but in its fragmentation, which characterizes in particular the second book. In the others there are not so many ruins, but for lacunae and expunged distichs. The decision not only to bracket them, but to put them at the end of each elegy, is rhetorically astute: if one sees these couplets out of their context, one will certainly damn them, since they usually are a proverbial thought or an item of a catalogue.The text of the OCT exhibits a smooth surface that derives from a complex work of restoration. Butrica had told us that most editors of Propertius are like those who had loved the smoke deposited during the centuries onto the frescoes by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel (“Editing Propertius.” CQ 47 [1997]:208). The Propertian frescoes have now been restored: parts which were severely damaged are even better than the original; others, whose authenticity we do not trust, have been detached and put aside. The result is a piece... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Death of Osiris in Aeneid 12.458Joseph D. ReedAs aeneas ranges the battlefield in search of Turnus and the Aeneid storms toward its close, an odd note sounds. A Trojan named Thymbraeus slays a Rutulian named Osiris. Neither is mentioned before or again. Even when one considers the diversity in this poem of names of Italian warriors, which Virgil takes not just from Italian traditions but from all over (...) the Mediterranean world,1 Osiris is surprising. Why does the name of an Egyptian god intrude into a primeval scene of Roman origins? The reader cannot ignore this provocation, especially on recollecting the rich patterns of meaning that such a contemporary of Virgil as Tibullus works into his elegy on Messalla’s birthday through an invocation of Osiris.2 So unexpected is the name that Bergk emended Osirim to Osinim, recalling the Italian king Osinius mentioned at 10.655.3 But emendation is misguided: as this paper will argue, the suggestiveness of the name is satisfied on the levels of history, ideology, religion, and literary influence, all major domains of Virgil’s epic. And the slaying of Osiris by Thymbraeus can be shown to emblematize both the whole mission of Aeneas and the achievement of Augustus.Aeneas, cured of the wound on his thigh, arms himself and, with some final words of instruction to his son, goes into battle seeking Turnus. In a memorable simile, he is compared to a storm that brings horror to farmers and ruin to their crops. His example rouses his fellow Trojans against the Italians: ferit ense gravem Thymbraeus Osirim, Arcetium Mnestheus, Epulonem obtruncat Achates Ufentemque Gyas; cadit ipse Tolumnius augur, primus in adversos telum qui torserat hostis.(12.458–61)[End Page 399]With his sword Thymbraeus smites the gravem Osiris. The adjective is equivalent to fortis, according to Servius Auctus; Forbiger prefers a denotation of towering size, comparing gravis as epithet of the boxer Entellus at 5.437 and 447.4 “Massive” might capture the sense in English. The effect here is to highlight Thymbraeus’ prowess. Like Osiris, two of the other Italian victims, Arcetius and Epulo, are unknown except for this passage. (The important Ufens received six lines at 7.744–49, in the catalogue of Latin allies,5 and Tolumnius, as line 461 reminds us, began this phase of the battle at 12.257–67.)6 But both their names etiologize some ancestral Italic or Roman institution: Epulo suggests a prototype of the college of epulones, priests of Jupiter Epulo;7 Arcetius invites a connection with the Italian gens Arquitia.8 In this they are like their enemy Mnestheus, supposed eponym of the gens Memmia (5.117). Osiris stands alone among his compatriots in his nomenclatural irrelevance to anything Roman. But Thymbraeus shares the isolation of his victim: he is the only one of the Trojans here who is mentioned nowhere else; not only that, but Mnestheus, Achates, and Gyas are indeed famous, leaders of the Trojans throughout the poem, receiving notice during the introductory storm scene in book 1, the departure from Carthage in book 4, the games in honor of Anchises in book 5, and elsewhere. The catalogue here is introduced by a pair of unknown warriors.The two belong together and give each other meaning. If the name of Osiris applied to a follower of Turnus reduces the critic to perplexity and silence, we can approach its significance through that of the name of Thymbraeus, which has obvious relevance to the whole drift of the epic. Thymbraeus reprises a Thymbraeus killed by Diomedes in Iliad 11.320–21, also mentioned only once. Virgil has revived the obscure Trojan, as it were, to permit him the victory at last; the fact that each Thymbraeus is hapax legomenos in his epic reinforces the reference, especially for such learned readers as Virgil himself was and expected in [End Page 400] his audience.9 The name itself, “the Thymbraean man,” comes from the town Thymbra near Troy (first attested in Il. 10.430),10 and so unmistakably marks the first warrior in Virgil’s catalogue as a representative survivor of the fallen city. In fact, the mythological tradition preserves... (shrink)

C. A. J. Littlewood approaches Seneca's tragedies as Neronian literature rather than as reworkings of Attic drama, and emphasizes their place in the Roman world and in the Latin literary corpus. The Greek tragic myths are for Seneca mediated by non-dramatic Augustan literature. In literary terms Phaedra's desire, Hippolytus' innocence, and Hercules' ambivalent heroism look back through allusion to Roman elegy, pastoral, and epic respectively. Ethically, the artificiality of Senecan tragedy, the consciousness that its own dramatic worlds, events, (...) and people are literary constructs, responds to the contemporary Stoical dismissal of the public world as mere theatre. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Brevity, Conciseness, and Compression in Roman Poetic Criticism and the Text of Gellius' Noctes Atticae 19.9.10Amiel D. VardiGellius Reproduces in Noctes Atticae 19.9.10 four early Latin epigrams he reports to have been recited by his teacher Antonius Julianus, on which he remarks:quibus mundius, venustius, limatius, tersius Graecum Latinumve nihil quicquam reperiri puto.tersius Salmasius followed by most editors: persius Q, pessius Z, pressius FγNow that Salmasius' admiration for the (...) Parisian Q and the whole δ family has abated,1 there is no reason to prefer the emendation over the reading of F and γ, especially since the readings of both manuscripts of the δ family could easily have originated in. But Jacobus Gronovius, in his 1706 edition, objects to pressius on the grounds that the idea of conciseness is not relevant in this context.2 A consideration of both this reading and the emendation is therefore appropriate.There is no other occurrence of tersus in Noctes Atticae, though the word is quite a common literary term from the time of Quintilian on. In his Institutio Oratoria it is used with reference to oratory (12.10.20, 50), to elegy (10.1.93, tersus atque elegans), and to Horace's advantage over Lucilius (10.1.94, tersus ac purus). It serves the younger Pliny, again both for prose style (Ep. 2.3.1, 7.25.4) and for elegy (9.22.2, tersum, molle, iucundum), and Porphyrio ascribes it to Horace's style (ad Hor. S. 1.4.8, tersus atque eleganter). The meaning of the term seems always to be that of "polished" or "refined" and is thus not much different from limatus, which precedes it according to the vulgate reading in [End Page 291] NA 19.9.10. The combination limatius, tersius would thus be somewhat pleonastic, but such coupling of synonyms is not alien to Gellius' style,3 and the combination tersum ac limatum is also found in Quintilian (Inst. 12.10.50). The reading limatius, tersius in the Gellian passage therefore has no obvious lexical deficiencies, and if pressius had failed to satisfy, it would indeed have been a happy emendation.Pressus is an older stylistic term, commonly employed in rhetorical discussions by Cicero, the younger Seneca, Quintilian, the younger Pliny, Tacitus, and Suetonius. In this context it normally serves, side by side with brevis, as a Latin equivalent for, to designate the virtus dicendi of brevity, which was added to the Theophrastean by the Stoics but, except in narratio, not always favored by rhetoricians with a taste for the grand style, especially Cicero and his admirers.4 The term is coupled with limatus by Cicero (Brut. 35, Orat. 20) and Quintilian (Inst. 2.8.4, 11.1.3 twice), with reference to the genus subtile or the Atticist style. It serves Gellius in three other places (1.3.21, 2.6.5, 10.6.2), all in the adverbial comparative form pressius but not in the sense "concise," which would be its meaning in 19.9.10.5 With reference to poetry, pressus is found in this sense in Quintilian (Inst. 10.1.46, on Homer's style; 12.10.38, an advantage of the Greek language over Latin), and Silius Italicus employs the metaphor pressis metis, taken from chariot racing, with reference to epic narrative and corresponding to breviter... revolvere (Pun. 8.48).Terminology apart, the demand for brevity in poetic texts is quite common, and precedes that in rhetorical theory.6 In Roman poetic theory it is emphasized by Horace, both in Ars Poetica (25, 335-37) and in his criticism of Lucilius (S. 1.4.11-13, 1.10.50-51).7 Whereas in the passages from Ars Poetica Horace and the Hellenistic doctrines he follows8 [End Page 292] seem to adopt the rhetorical virtutes dicendi to poetry,9 the metaphor of the muddy stream ( flueret lutulentus) used in his Sermones suggests dependence on a completely different tradition, that of the poetic ideal of and Callimachus' Hymn to Apollo, already evoked in Catullus' poem 95.10 This fortuitous coincidence of rhetorical and Callimachean doctrines, often also formulated in the same terminology,11 continues to obfuscate the theoretical... (shrink)

Acontius argues that there was nothing wrong with the trick he played on Cydippe – the end justifies the means.Heinsius and Dilthey doubted the authenticity of this couplet, whilst Bornecque bracketed line 26 alone. Line 25, however, contains a familiar elegiac theme, and line 26, with one small emendation, is rhetorically sharp.All the MSS have uni in line 25, but many editors have found this unsatisfactory, preferring to read unum and punctuating the line in various ways: Burman prints ‘iungerer? unum’, (...) Showerman, Goold and Palmer ‘iungerer, unum?’ Of these, the latter is the more attractive, ‘iungerer uni’, however, is perfectly good, and should be retained: uni means not ‘you alone ’, but ‘you alone ’, cf. OLD s.v. unus 8 ‘one in particular, one above all others’. Acontius is paying Cydippe a compliment – she is the only girl for him, and nobody else will do. This is a common theme in Latin love elegy, cf. Prop. 2.7.19, [Tib.] 3.19.3–6, Ovid, Ars Am. 1.42: ‘elige cui dicas “tu mihi sola places”’. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Complete Poems of Tibullus: An En Face Bilingual Edition by Rodney G. DennisRobert J. BallRodney G. Dennis and Michael C. J. Putnam, trans. The Complete Poems of Tibullus: An En Face Bilingual Edition. With intro. by J. Haig Gaisser. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012. x + 159 pp. Hardcover, $52.95, Paperback, $20.95.This welcome edition of Tibullus’ elegies contains a two-page preface, a twenty-eight-page introduction, an en (...) face bilingual text and translation of the elegies of Tibullus, Lygdamus, and Sulpicia, a seven-page section of notes, a ten-page glossary, an appendix containing a text and translation of Ovid Amores 3.9 (Ovid’s memorial to Tibullus), a select bibliography, and a general index.As related in the preface, after the death of Rodney Dennis, Curator of Manuscripts for twenty-five years at Harvard University’s Houghton Library, Michael Putnam and Julia Gaisser agreed to bring to fruition the Tibullus translation Dennis had worked on, which Dennis had wanted Gaisser to help him perfect and for which he had wanted Putnam to write the introduction. Putnam and Gaisser decided to reverse the roles that had been envisioned for them by Dennis, with the revision of the translation (and the addition of the poetry of Lygdamus and Sulpicia) diligently executed by Putnam, Professor Emeritus of Classics at Brown University, and the introduction insightfully authored by Gaisser, Professor Emerita of Latin at Bryn Mawr College.Gaisser’s introduction examines 1) the world of the Roman elegists, especially how, in an era of brilliant poets, the elegists defined their genre; 2) the themes and characters in Tibullus’ elegies and how the characters help shape the [End Page 295] arrangement of his poems; and 3) what the elegies of Lygdamus and Sulpicia have and do not have in common with those of the other elegists. Gaisser’s fine comment, “His [Tibullus’] poems glide easily, some would say dreamily, from theme to theme, moving almost like a slide show through apparently random images and musings” (1), recalls statements of some of the poet’s admirers at the dawn of the twentieth century, such as Johannes Vahlen, who likened the movement of the elegies to the tide of a summer sea. Gaisser takes the middle ground, as appropriate, in seeing Tibullus as a poet who speaks through a persona, yet who has “some (perhaps many) points in common with his creator” (7)—as he very likely does—since even within the context of his alternate universe, he touches on the contemporary world, where he refers to people and events outside the poem’s web of self-reference. Yet one may question Gaisser’s unqualified comment that “Tibullus’ poetic techniques are Alexandrian at almost every level” (17)—a thesis developed by Francis Cairns based on Hellenistic evidence of a fragmentary nature, substantiated by Alexandrian elements in some of Tibullus’ verses but with little relevance to those elegies governed by non-Alexandrian literary sources.The bilingual text and translation include the sixteen elegies written by Tibullus (1.1–10 and 2.1–6), the six by Lygdamus (3.1–6), and the six by Sulpicia (3.13–18 = 4.7–12); not included are the Panegyric of Messalla (3.7 = 4.1), the Garland of Sulpicia (3.8–12 = 4.2–6), and the elegy and epigram of debatable authorship appearing at the end of the corpus (3.19–20 = 4.13–14). In preparing this edition of the elegies, Putnam has followed, appropriately, Georg Luck’s Teubner text (Stuttgart 1988, rev. in 1998)—a text containing the most complete list of Tibullus’ manuscripts ever assembled and the most extensive citation of variants and conjectures for the poems, which Putnam supplements with his own variants. Verse form presents a serious challenge for anyone attempting to translate classical poetry into English, inasmuch as classical meters are quantitative whereas English verse is accentual; although translations of classical verses into the original meters may well result in a metrical tour de force, they tend to have a jingly sound, which can obscure and overshadow the poet’s artistry. Philip Dunlop translated some of Tibullus’ elegies into free... (shrink)

This note on Propertius 4.7 argues that Cynthia, repeatedly cast in the role of the poet's Muse, rejects the burden of inspiration through a learned choice of words (non tamen insector, 4.7.49). The verb insector constitutes a clear reference to the invocation of the Camena in Livius Andronicus and of the Muse in Ennius. Cynthia recalibrates the parlance of poetic inspiration to end her relationship with Propertius, both as his puella and as his Muse.

This paper finds its origin in a debate between Georges Bataille (1897-1962) and Octavio Paz (1914-1998) on what is central to the idea of eroticism. Bataille posits that violence and transgression are fundamental to eroticism, and without prohibition, eroticism would cease to exist. Paz, however, views violence and transgression as merely intersecting with, rather than being intrinsic to, eroticism. Paz places focus on imagination, and transforms eroticism from a transgressive, to a ritualistic act. Eroticism thus functions as an intermediary, turning (...) animal sexuality into ceremony and rite. In this paper, I argue that Paz and Bataille are not fundamentally at odds in their conceptualisation of eroticism. Instead, Paz redefines the locus of eroticism by subverting its unsettling aspects. His conception of eroticism gives precedence to the imagination, which in itself is an act of violation. Imagination transgresses normal life, but this transgression – the violation of the habitual world – also introduces a glimpse of the numinous that Paz associates with belongingness. The paper further explores eroticism, as this is perceived today, and argues that it ultimately eliminates the threshold marked by transgression. The rise of the contemporary pornographic society is marked by a loss of imagination and transcendence, which ultimately reduces the subject into a mere automaton that demands instant gratification. (shrink)

This article examines some interlinear and marginal notes on Henry Aristippus' translation of the Platonic Phaedo transmitted in Leiden, UL, BPL Ms. 64. The content of these notes also appears in H...

Latin America is not one, but many. It exists in six different regions with differing forms of Catholicism. This Catholicism had acted from a position of power. The challenge of modernity and independence movements made people anti-Church if not anti-Christian. New missionary priests from North America and Europe changed the face of Latin American Catholicism after the second world war. Yet Catholicism is not deeply rooted in Latin America and thus has had to resort to political means (...) for survival. In the pluralistic world of the future, Catholicism in Latin America will have to live with change. (shrink)