This is a commentary on selected texts of Plato concerned with poetry: the Ion and relevant sections of the Republic. It is the first commentary to present these texts together in one volume, and the first in English on Republic 2 and 3 and Ion for nearly 100 years. The introduction sets Plato's views in their Greek context and outlines their influence on later aesthetic thought. An important feature of the commentary is its exploration of the ambivalence (...) of Plato's pronouncements through an analysis of his own skill as a writer. (shrink)

Philologus, founded in 1846, is one of the oldest and most respected periodicals in the field of Classics. It publishes articles on Greek and Latin literature, historiography, philosophy, history of religion, linguistics, reception, and the history of scholarship. The journal aims to contribute to our understanding of Greco-Roman culture and its lasting influence on European civilization. The journal Philologus, conceived as a forum for discussion among different methodological approaches to the study of ancient texts and their reception, publishes original (...) scholarly contributions with a strong international focus. Publications languages are: German, English, Italian, French. As of 2014 the publication of supplementary volumes will be resumed. The series Philologus. Supplemente / Philologus. Supplementary Volumes will publish monographs and edited volumes pertaining to all aspects of the study of ancient literature and its reception, with a special focus on topics concerning literary theory, philosophy and the history of scholarship from an interdisciplinary perspective. (shrink)

Cognitive approaches to early medieval texts have tended to focus on the mind in isolation. By examining the interplay between mental and physical acts deployed in Old English poetry and prose, this study identifies new patterns and offers new perspectives. In these texts, the performance of right or wrong action is not linked to natural inclination dictated by birth; it is the fruit of right or wrong thinking. The mind consciously directed and controlled is open to external (...) class='Hi'>influences, both human and diabolical. This struggle to produce right thought and action reflects an emerging democratization of heroism that crosses societal and gender boundaries, becoming intertwined with socio-political, soteriological, and cultural meaning. In a study of influential prose texts, including the Alfredian translations and the sermons of Ælfric, alongside close readings of three poems from different genres – The Seafarer, The Battle of Maldon, and Juliana –, Ponirakis demonstrates how early medieval authors create patterns of interaction between the mental and the physical. These provide hidden keys to meaning which, once found, unlock new readings of much studied texts. In addition, these patterns of balance, distribution, and opposition, reveal a startling similarity of approach across genre and form, taking the discussion of the early medieval conception of the mind, soul, and emotion, not to mention conventional generic divisions, onto new ground. (shrink)

The article deals with a hitherto largely neglected group of poetic texts that is characterized by the representation of the vicissitudes and deeds of a single hero through a third-person omniscient authorial voice, henceforth called ‘aretalogical poetry’. I want to demonstrate that in terms of form, contents, intertextual ‘self-awareness’ and long-term influence, aretalogical poetry qualifies as a fully-fledged epic genre comparable to bucolic or didactic poetry. In order not to blur my argument, I will focus on heroic (...) aretalogies, and on Heracleids and Theseids in particular, because of their prominence in the minds of ancient literary critics. In the case of Heraclean aretalogies, it is expedient to distinguish further between aretalogies of ‘epic’ and ‘lyric epic’. (shrink)

A central and integral feature of Mill's version of Utilitarianism is the necessity for moral agents to empathize with others, for without such empathy one has little or no motivation to pursue the general good. Mill believed that Benthamite Utilitarianism failed to provide a sufficient mechanism to induce would-be moral agents to empathize with others. Mill located the requisite mechanism when reading English Romantic poetry and theory: in particular, Mill believed that to empathize completely with others requires a (...) special kind of imagination. I argue that the theory of imagination adopted by Mill was essentially Wordsworthian. The importance of this conception of imagination has far reaching effects in Mill's thought: for example, Mill's infamous proof of the principle of utility is plausible only when considered in the context of the Mill's Romantic theory of imagination. ;Mill's initiation into aesthetics occurred in the late 1820s and early 1830s when Mill was also first exposed to Continental, and particularly to French, sociologists, especially to Saint-Simon and Auguste Comte. I investigate the nature and extent of their influence on Mill. Interestingly, there are some important parallels between this group and the English Romantics. Though widely divergent in political theory, all were, in some sense, conservatives and elitists. Both Comte and Coleridge, for example, thought that society ought to be run by a clerisy constituted primarily by the intellectual elite of society. This posed a serious problem for Mill both as an empiricist and as a liberal. Indeed, some have argued that, at least for some periods of his life, Mill abandoned both his empiricist heritage and his liberalism. I examine these issues in detail arguing that, in typical fashion for Mill, he attempted an amalgam of these various doctrines. In the final analysis, however, Mill remained firmly committed both to empiricism--and the reductionist and mechanistic view it implied--as well as to liberalism, though it is a liberalism with definite elitist strains within it. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:English Classical: The Reform of Poetry in Elizabethan England STEPHEN ORGEL Roger ascham, writing in the 1560s, in the course of a treatise on education, urged the reform of English poetry on classical models: “Our English tongue, in avoiding barbarous rhyming, may as well receive right quantity of syllables, and true order of versifying... as either Greek or Latin....”1 He cites as an (...) example of right quantity of syllables and true order of versifying this translation by the scholar and poet William Watson of a verse from the Odyssey: All travelers do gladly report great praise of Ulysses. For that he knew many men’s manners, and saw many cities. This does not sound much like English poetry, but if we count it out we can see that it does, more or less, follow the quantitative rules. The trouble is that the rules have little to do with English pronunciation. Vowels are long by position (followed by two consonants) regardless of how they are pronounced ; moreover, Watson makes vowels long if they are stressed (such as the a in “travelers” and “manners” and the i in “cities”), again regardless of how they are pronounced. For the Elizabethans, this was a problem not with the rules, but with English, both in its dissimilarity from the classical tongues and in the variety of spelling and pronunciation at the time—proponents of quantitative verse in English observe that a necessary first step would be to stabilize the language, as Gabriel Harvey wrote to Edmund Spenser, “there is no one more regular and justifiable direction, either for the assured and infallible certainty of our English artificial prosody particularly, or generally to bring our language into art and to arion 27.2 fall 2019 frame a grammar or rhetoric thereof, than first of all universally to agree upon one and the same orthography.”2 But even with a stable orthography, the application of quantitative rules to English is problematic. To begin with, it is not clear in what sense an English vowel can be said to be long or short—to consider the vowels in stressed syllables invariably long, as Watson does, is entirely arbitrary. There is obviously a difference between the a sound in “rat” and in “rate”; such vowels are now described as short and long, but in pronunciation, they may or may not be of equal extension : thus, the a in “rate” is not, in speaking, longer than the a in “rat,” it is simply pronounced differently; whereas the i in “rise” is certainly longer than the i in “rid.” If quantity means length, English vowels are too erratic to serve—Harvey observed to Spenser that in some quantitative hexameters Spenser had sent him, “the,” “ye” and “he” were treated as short, but “me” was long.3 The issue is especially vexed in the case of vowels that are long by position. The most common examples in English are the -ing endings of participles, which are invariably unaccented and stubbornly short when spoken. In fact, Thomas Campion confronted precisely this problem; and his way of dealing with it gives a clear sense of how willed the whole quantitative system in English necessarily was: For though we accent the second [syllable] of Trumpington short, yet is it naturally long, and so of necessity must be held of every composer.4 What can “naturally” mean here? Are the rules of Latin prosody laws of nature? Harvey had a clear sense of the practical problems, writing to Spenser, “in short, this is the very short and long: position neither maketh short nor long in our tongue,” and concludes that some other rule must be found for English “that should as universally and canonically hold amongst us as position doth with the Latins and Greeks.”5 The larger assumption behind Ascham’s and Harvey’s proposals for a new poetry was that the “barbarous” England 44 english classical of the time could be rectified by the application of classical rules. A return to the classics held out the promise of culture and civility—not only in poetry, of course, but poetry seemed a particularly clear example. Nobody thought the transformation would be easy; a hectoring... (shrink)

This 1935 book studies the powerful influence exercised by Ancient Greek culture on German writers from the eighteenth century onwards.

This book is designed to appeal both to those interested in Roman poetry and to specialists in ancient philosophy. In it David Sedley explores Lucretius ' complex relationship with Greek culture, in particular with Empedocles, whose poetry was the model for his own, with Epicurus, the source of his philosophical inspiration, and with the Greek language itself. He includes a detailed reconstruction of Epicurus' great treatise On Nature, and seeks to show how Lucretius worked with this (...) as his sole philosophical source, but gradually emancipated himself from its structure, transforming its raw contents into something radically new. By pursuing these themes, the book uncovers many unrecognised aspects of Lucretius ' methods and achievements as a poetic craftsman. (shrink)

In 1935, the British scholar Eliza M. Butler published The Tyranny of Greece Over Germany, in which she explored the appeal of Greek art and poetry to modern German writers. She argued that Hellenism had exerted a baleful influence on German literature and culture, and that Germans were especially—even dangerously—susceptible to the power of ideas. In her view, the most dangerous Hellenic concept to German culture and society was the daimon, which had reached Germany via the work of (...) Winckelmann. Butler's thesis and methods may be problematic, as some reviewers of Tyranny pointed out, but her work is noteworthy as the product of a scholar who had lived in Germany and was a witness to history, familiar with German language, literature, and culture, writing on Germany during difficult times. As a British scholar who began studying German just before World War I and ended her career after World War II, Butler had an ambivalent relationship with Germany and Germans. But in addition to political factors, she was also influenced by her family, her educational and research experiences in Germany, and her preference for 18th- and 19th-century over 20th-century Germans. Moreover, her perception of Germans and Germanness was consistently posed against her perception of England and Englishness, and she defined the two cultural identities in terms of their relation to each other. Writing Tyranny as the National Socialists came to power in Germany, Butler judged Germans and their relationship to the daimon harshly. In 1956, Butler reconsidered the daimonic in a study of Byron and Goethe, and in this work it received a more sympathetic and nuanced analysis. A comparison of these two works is useful for understanding the evolution of Butler's thought in the 20-year interval between their publication. (shrink)

continent. 1.4 (2011): 286—310. This mad play of writing —Stéphane Mallarmé Somewhere in between mathematics and theory, light and dark, physicality and projection, oscillates the poetry of Alessandro De Francesco. The texts hold no periods or commas, not even a capital letter for reference. Each piece stands as an individual construction, and yet the poetry flows in and out of the frame. Images resurface from one poem to the next, haunting the reader with reincarnations of an object lost (...) in the grass or a representation of a pear in a Dutch still life, embedded in cycles of cinematic close ups and multiple dimensions. As a whole, De Francesco’s oeuvre suggests, to use the title of one of his works, a redefinition —linguistic, epistemological, personal. The poem The End (un’agenda) (The End (an agenda)) opens with a quote by literary theorist Maurice Blanchot, which may be translated as follows: Speaking is not seeing. Speaking frees thought from this optical imperative that in the Western tradition, for thousands of years, has subjugated out approach to things, and induced us to think under the guaranty of light or under the threat of its absence.[1] In writing, De Francesco seeks to redefine our approach to things. His poems, like Blanchot’s writings, speak to both illuminate and to obscure. The reader hangs in an absence of reality within language that necessitates an attempt at interpretation, yet renders such a search ultimately futile. De Francesco draws the anonymous images that appear in this poem from the city of Paris, his current home. The fragmented narrative depicts an inner doubt of realness, calling for a confirmation of a physical existence beyond verbalization and cogitation. Cyclical references to film throw into question the reliability of the reality he creates. The light, sometimes red and safe, other times absent and murky, cannot necessarily be trusted as a guaranteed means of illumination. Blanchot’s distinction between language and visualization, and the relationship of each to reality, though linked specifically to The End (un’agenda) , can be a lens through which to read any of the three works that follow. assente obliqua (absent oblique) is composed of descriptions of six still life paintings, ranging from Dutch masterpieces of the seventeenth century to 1960s minimalism. The actual images of the paintings are absent, and the text is the sole source and object of a virtual reality created around the artwork. “Absent oblique” refers to the light source placed outside of the frame, which both informs and distracts viewing of the scene. Although mere description can be unreliable and unsatisfying in its necessary limitation, the representational act of description is shown as more than just a human want. It is a need, a means by which to grapple with an unsure reality. As the illustrations progress, they descend into abstraction and chaos. The precariously placed plate triggers the movement: the bottle bursts and the objects collapse into the movement of a tracking film camera. corpo estraneo in moto ascensionale (foreign body in ascending motion) is prose poetry in action. Its objective tone of description is skewed by the subjectivity of the narrative as horrific images are relayed in fragmented but matter-of-fact manner. A “foreign body” is both a mass of cancerous cells, and a corporeal description, and the poem takes the reader on a journey back and forth between the two, destination unclear. Beyond a questioning of the real, corpo estraneo in moto ascensionale is an examination of the possible. De Francesco’s poetry becomes a camera obscura through which to observe the constant flux of light and dark that blurs our reality. His work is colored by the idea of apo koinou , a Greek term meaning “from the common” that involves a construction of two clauses with a shared word or phrase. Through such melting of meaning, De Francesco creates a fluid ambiguity that is nonetheless grounded in bodily concepts. In assente obliqua , the reader is confronted with a description of a still life that rapidly transforms into a more chilling scene: the membrane of the mushroom in the basket emerges behind the white cloth a body could hide itself that asks for help In the realm of pure description, there is a mushroom that peeks out from behind a white cloth in a basket. Behind the white cloth, too, there could be a body, hiding, asking for help. Such an elision elicits disorienting mistrust in temporality, but also expands the planar possibilities of syntactical meaning. A white cloth is not merely a construct in still life painting, but veil that both shields and reveals potential mysteries. It is a proposed alternative to a traditional Western binary of subjectivity and objectivity. The apo koinou construction is rare in modern English, having slipped out of use after its resurgence in Old English poetry. De Francesco reintroduces this blur of object and subject relations into a modern light. He draws inspiration from a device used by Gruppo 63 founder and avant-garde poet Antonio Porta tended toward repetition of phrases in third person perspective. In Italian, it is perfectly grammatically correct to omit the subject, including only a verb conjugation. Gender, even humanity unknown, the subject dissolves into the action, thus giving to the poetry the power to change the reader’s perception of who or what is actually acting. To further push the relative boundaries of experience, De Francesco expands his written poetry into what he calls “reading environments.” In these sound experiments, De Francesco’s voice reading his poetry is manipulated by real time digital voice processing. The written is transformed to the spoken, and then injected with currents of electric sound. “At each activation of word in the darkness,” (from The End (un’agenda) ) language is permutated into a nonphysical yet all-encompassing being. In these projects, realized all over Europe, De Francesco continues his examination of the word’s potency beyond the page and into an “n-dimensional space,” where the lines between nature and affect are intertwined. To publish excerpts of De Francesco’s oeuvre is to show screen shots of full-length film, to read pull quotes from a philosophy treatise. In these poems, there are questions, not to be answered, but to be questioned again. The words will oscillate in and out of the square construction found in his poems, out of the borders of the page, out of the rectangle of the laptop screen. NOTES (1) Blanchot, Maurice. The Infinite Conversation . Trans. Susan Hanson. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993. 27. EDITORS' NOTE The .pdf above contains about twenty pages of translation and the original Italian poetry. Below we provide only a brief account. The End (an agenda) Parler, ce n’est pas voir. Parler libère la pensée de cette exigence optique qui, dans la tradition occidentale, soumet depuis des millénaires notre approche des choses et nous invite à penser sous la garantie de la lumière ou sous la menace de l’absence de lumière. —Maurice Blanchot in this n-dimensional space i could spy on myself from the cracks while going back and forth from the summer to the wardrobe from the night to the parking lot but something filters in through the half-closed shutters becomes an event enunciation we stay without explanation like parallel curves on the back of a solid growing older she enters the garden always repeats certain phrases the elevator to be redone the neighbor’s music the steps the pavement furls like the leaves of a fern when touched she is framed from behind while she moves rocking she covers distances slowly a bag overflows from the wardrobe something stirs inside but then the suitcase comes open not even by my hand it’s the objects that are starting to filter out the little red haired monster watches idling the appointments written on one of your agendas two years old still seem urgent each letter holds itself upright on the page with flourishes and arabesques each angle has its own geography i’m trying to describe the path the fingers trace on the carpet the zipper takes the opposite route we are suspended on the stairs above the water in the center is the summer seen from above the darkness of the city passes from one headlight to the next the surfaces of our arms cohere and are shiny underneath the blinking of a sign each pore is an open expanse the body dreams the hair gives form to the possible some daring swimmers were throwing themselves into the seine they swam upstream up to the first quay look there could exist behind the screen a room where even when the lamp is out and the curtains drawn even when the suitcase wasn’t closed everything seemed red everything calm construction of a four-dimensional tetrahedron by R. Courant – H. Robbins, What is Mathematics? Oxford University Press, 1941  . (shrink)

On the analogy of the colloquial register in some modern languages, where narrative and argument may be punctuated by oaths and exclamations in order to maintain a high affective level and compel the hearer's attention, it is reasonable to postulate that Attic conversation also was punctuated by oaths, that this ingredient in comic language was drawn from life, and that the comparative frequency of ║ M M Δ in comedy is sufficiently explained thereby. There are obvious affinities between some passages (...) of comedy, relaxed conversation in Plato and Xenophon, and the forceful, man-to-man tone which Demosthenes sometimes adopts to such good effect . Compare, for instance, Ar. V. 133 f. στιν δ' νομα ⋮ τ μν γέροντι ⋮ Φιλοκλέων / να μ Δία, τ δ' υε κτλ., where the oath is a response to imagined incredulity, and X. Smp. 4.27 ατν δ σέ, η, γ εδον να μ τν πόλλω, τε κτλ. . It is also important that the commonest oaths fit, in most of their forms, the end of an iambic trimeter: μ τν Δία, ν Δία,ν τούς θεούς, μ τος θεούς. Add that in Aristophanic dialogue over half the iambic trimeters end with major pause, and half the remainder with minor pause, and we can see why Δ / established itself early as a distinctive comic pattern. Out of 105 examples of M M Δ cited from comedy in Section II above, 59 have the oath at verse-end. In the case of πάνυ, which was almost exclusively Attic and — to judge from its great rarity in tragedy — felt by Athenian poets to be prosaic, we lack evidence on its functions in the colloquial register; it may or may not have served as affective punctuation. In prose, we have to reckon with the fact that π Mπ and Mπ π constituted a genuine stylistic choice as far back as the evidence will take us, since the two earliest instances in prose are [X.] Ath. 2.3 πάνυ δι χρείαν and ibid. 3.5 πολλ τι πάνυ. The oath, as treated by the comic poets on the basis of colloquial usage, is bound to have served as a model for πάνυ, exerting an influence which pulled πάνυ to the end of the verse, but there was also a powerful metrical constraint. As a dibrach ending in a vowel which could not be elided or enter into crasis, πάνυ was especially appropriate for verse-end. That in itself was enough both to establish Mπ π as the dominant pattern in comedy and to promote Mπ … π. Out of the total of 104 examples of Mπ π in comedy, 93 have πάνυ at verse-end, which makes Mπ π / one of the hallmarks of comic style. Mπ … π does not occur in prose in association with any other feature identified as colloquial, but it should be noted that Aiskhines and Demosthenes are much fonder of Mπ π than other prose authors. In some cases one can see that the order Mπ π avoids a succession of short syllables or hiatus or both , but there are other cases in which it has the opposite effect . The possibility of comic influence on oratorical language cannot be dismissed out of hand. It is also possible that someone will find positive determinants which will explain all the cases of Mπ π in prose. σόδρα, which, like πάνυ, is peculiarly Attic, is metrically more tractable than πάνυ, since it can be elided; even so, out of the 80 comic examples of Mσ σ no less than 58 have σόδρα at verse-end, and of those 58 there are 22 at major pause, 8 at presumed major pause and 9 at minor pause. The comic treatment of σόδρα is thus comparable with the treatment of πάνυ, and Timokles 222.4 τηρεν…σόδρα is in fact the closest analogy we have to Ar. Pl. 234 f. χθομαι…πάνυ. δέ and γάρ are a different matter, and in some significant respects different from each other. Postponement of δέ is especially prominent in Aeschylus and then abundant in fourth-century comedy. It is much less common in Euripides , rare in Sophocles and Aristophanes , and virtually limited in prose to the categories which I labelled –. There is as yet no evidence to associate postponement of δέ with colloquial language; on the contrary, it seems to have begun as a feature of poetic language and to have been taken up and exploited by fourth-century comedy. If, in addition to being Aeschylean, it was colloquial in the fourth century, what happened to it afterwards? Except for such an isolated and inexplicable case as Diod. xx85.1 — in a military narrative — it is not a feature of the Koine at literary, documentary or subliterate level. Postponement of γάρ was no doubt encouraged by postponement of δέ, but it is not itself notably poetic ). One can see how it could possibly have developed in the spoken language of the fourth century, extending the function of γάρ as an explanatory particle in a way which makes it comparable with the English ‘you see’ in ‘He didn't dare pick it up. He hurt his back last year, you see’. For an extension of this kind we may compare the current extension of the English genitive affix in ‘Then the girl whose place she was taking's mother turned up’ and ‘The man that Christopher liked's Introduction is much better’. Moreover, postponed γάρ appears in a segment of conversation constructed in indirect speech by Theophrastus in Char. 8.9 τ πργμα βοσθαι γάρ . Again we must ask: what happened to it afterwards? A couple of cases in Theophrastus' botanical works could be a reflex of the influence of comedy on literary language at Athens. The influence was plainly short-lived, since it did not affect the Koine. It is not hard to see why serious poetry in the fifth century and earlier should have experimented occasionally with the postponement of δέ and γάρ: treatment of M M q as a valid alternative to M q M is metrically very convenient. No poet, however, could afford to use common words in a bizarre, un-Greek way merely to save himself time and trouble in constructing a verse. Linguistic innovation is normally analogical, proceeding by extension from a starting-point already there, and the most obvious starting-point for postponement of δέ and γάρ is constituted by my class . This consideration provides comic postponement with a pedigree, but does not deny it individuality. The remarkable scale and frequency with which comedy exploited a phenomenon which tragedy used with restraint and prose hardly at all gives comic postponement the right to be regarded as a quite distinctive artificial feature of comedy. (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)

Proclus, head of the Philosophy School at Athens for fifty years, was one of the leading philosophical figures in Late Antiquity. Lucas Siorvanes here introduces Proclus to English-language readers, discussing his metaphysics and theory of knowledge and focusing in particular on his Neo-Platonism. Proclus lived in the turbulent fifth century A.D., a time of struggles among Christians, Jews, and pagans, the invasion of Attila the Hun, the fall of the Western Roman Empire, and the rise of the Eastern Roman (...) Empire in Byzantium. While Late Antiquity has been regarded as a time of superstition and forbiddingly complex philosophies, recent scholarship has shown it to be full of cultural and intellectual vigor. During Proclus's tenure as head of the Philosophy School, he systematized Neo-Platonism as the summit of ancient Greek thought, brought it to its peak of influence, and became responsible for the form in which it was transmitted to the Byzantine, Western European, and Islamic civilizations. Siorvanes's extensive original research presents Proclus as much more than just a metaphysician. He surveys all of Proclus's philosophical interests—including religion, physics, astronomy, mathematics, and poetry—revealing the philosopher's central concern with the problems of being and knowledge and relating the ideas of Proclus to those of such other major thinkers as Plato, Aristotle, and Ptolemy. To help the newcomer, Siorvanes supplies more than 200 quotations from Proclus's works. He also traces the impact of Proclus's Neo-Platonism across cultures, religions, and centuries, in such diverse areas as Christian and Islamic theologies, Renaissance art, Kepler's astronomy, Romantic poetry, Emerson's thought, modern philosophy and science, and current popular phrases. (shrink)

This chapter discusses metaphors for elpis in early Greek poetry. Metaphor can be a crucial element in the formation and extension of emotion concepts and gives an unsurpassed sense of a culture’s phenomenology of emotion; the chapter aims to establish how far elpis metaphors resemble those of other, more prototypical emotion concepts. A brief discussion of the semantics of elpis in Homer and other early Greek poetic sources is followed by a review of the main categories of (...) metaphors for elpis. It is clear that elpis can, but need not, mean “hope”; and it is equally clear that elpis need not be thought of in metaphorical terms. Elpis metaphors, however, cluster very strongly around those applications that can be interpreted in terms of English “hope.” They characterize elpis as an emotion; but they rarely make it as violent, disruptive, or irruptive an experience as many other emotions are. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: Seven Poems NICOLAS CALAS (Translated by Avi Sharon) hellenizing surrealism: a greek door to europe Nicolas calas (Kalamares) may be considered merely a minor Greek poet, but he had a major global persona and influence. In the middle of the last century he played a catalyzing role in the international avant garde: He was a Zelig-like polemicist in three languages (Greek, French, and English) (...) and across three cultural capitals (Athens, Paris, and New York). But he always fought on a singular front: surrealism. Born in Lausanne in 1907, he grew up in Athens and by the later 1920s began to stand out in literary circles (he was over 6' 4") for his modernist if not revolutionary views. Starting from an interest in Freud and Marx, the subconscious and the revolutionary, Calas soon arrived at their natural synthesis—surrealism. Around the time when a distinctly Greek form of surrealist poetry emerged, with the 1935 publication of “Blast Furnace” by Andreas Embiricos, Calas was on his way to becoming its unofficial spokesman. He moved to the epicenter of the movement in Paris and with the 1938 publication of Foyers d’Incendie became the “most lucid and audacious” of founder André Breton’s acolytes, both prophet and demagogue of the group. Carried along in the current of European artists and thinkers leaving Europe for New York, he would continue the fight on the western wing of the faction (literally, coming to blows at a cocktail party with Clement Greenberg, representing the opposing Abstract Expressionist side). In 1942 he published another clarion pamphlet, Confound the Wise, giving the movement voice in English and befriending its most visible local supporters and practitioners, from Peggy Guggenheim to Marcel Duchamp. arion 27.1 spring/summer 2019 The Wyndham Lewis of the operation, Calas was a cross-border catalyst, evangelizing the role of surrealism as a liberating and generative force in modern literature and art. For him and other writers and poets, the weapon that would most effectively derange the reader’s habitual conformism into revelatory and revolutionary perception was the surrealist image, poetry’s lingua franca. For Greek practitioners it was completely natural for that magical representation to arise out of their god-infested, sun-filled landscape. Here they had a force that was both blinding and enlightening, penetrating and transformative, local and universal. For Calas, the primary echo or reflection of that essential image was the island of Santorini, referenced in several of the translations here (and reminiscent of his fellow national Nikos Gatsos’s use of the island of Amorgos in a similar context). It stood as the very symbol of fiery transformation, an image monstrous enough to shock the reader into a super-rational embrace of its own form of logic. This Hellenization of surrealism, like the Hellenization of modernism itself, was to become an important, transformative power in its own right. For many, the origin (and likewise, for many, the enclosing border ) of surrealism was France. “But it is French. It is their invention,” was how William Carlos Williams saw it, to his chagrin. Williams was convinced that the objective concentration on the image itself (“no ideas but in things”) could offer a salutary corrective to American poetry of his time. “It is the surrealists who have invented the living defense of literature,” he wrote in a 1929 essay. But for a poet so at one with the American Grain to be reconciled with surrealism’s ‘Francite’ he needed some way to cross the divide. His admiration for Calas’s work in clarifying and promoting the group’s ideas enabled the Greek poet to serve as a mediator, to allow the creative transference of its rebellious wisdom into Williams’s poetry. To borrow the title of one of his early American essays, Calas provided Williams a “Greek door to Europe.” In translating four of Calas’s French poems into English, published in 1941 with a frontispiece by the surrealist painter and magician Kurt Seligman, Williams leveraged Calas as the vehicle through which the “enabling foreignness” of surrealism could be grafted into the grain of his American modernist work, just as he set out on his magnum opus, Paterson. In a similar way... (shrink)

Combining literary and philosophical analysis, this study defends an utterly innovative reading of the early history of poetics. It is the first to argue that there is a distinctively Socratic view of poetry and the first to connect the Socratic view of poetry with earlier literary tradition.Literary theory is usually said to begin with Plato's famous critique of poetry in the Republic. Grace Ledbetter challenges this entrenched assumption by arguing that Plato's earlier dialogues Ion, Protagoras, and Apology (...) introduce a distinctively Socratic theory of poetry that responds polemically to traditional poets as rival theorists. Ledbetter tracks the sources of this Socratic response by introducing separate readings of the poetics implicit in the poetry of Homer, Hesiod, and Pindar. Examining these poets' theories from a new angle that uncovers their literary, rhetorical, and political aims, she demonstrates their decisive influence on Socratic thinking about poetry.The Socratic poetics Ledbetter elucidates focuses not on censorship, but on the interpretation of poetry as a source of moral wisdom. This philosophical approach to interpreting poetry stands at odds with the poets' own theories--and with the Sophists' treatment of poetry. Unlike the Republic's focus on exposing and banishing poetry's irrational and unavoidably corrupting influence, Socrates' theory includes poetry as subject matter for philosophical inquiry within an examined life.Reaching back into what has too long been considered literary theory's prehistory, Ledbetter advances arguments that will redefine how classicists, philosophers, and literary theorists think about Plato's poetics. (shrink)

Many mawlids (mawlid al-nabī) have been written as a reflection of the love for the prophet Muhammad. Süleymān Çelebi’s (d. 825/1422) Wasila al-nacāt, has been seen as the founding work in Turkish literature in this category. The effect of Wasila al-nacāt has continued for centuries, and inspired many other mawlids. One of them is Enverī Erzincānī’s work named Mawlūd al-sharīf (Sumbul al-gulzār al-kalām al-kadīm). In literature tradition, mawlids are written in masnawī in ​​verse form, Mawlūd al-sharīf was written in style. (...) ode. In this respect, the work can be seen as an exception between the other ones. Another remarkable aspect of the work is the similarity between the two stories in Nasibī al-mawlid which is estimated to be written in XV. or XVI. century. Until now, no academic work has been done about Mawlūd al-sharīf. The sources that provide information about Mawlūd al-sharīf report about, two copies, one in Çorum Hasanpasha Manuscript Library (Çorum Hasanpaşa Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi) and the other in Kastamonu Manuscript Library (Kastamonu Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi). Research showed that the copy in Kastamonu was in fact another copy of Wasila al-nacāt another copy of Mawlūd al-sharīf was also found in the Çorum Hasanpasha Manuscript Library (Çorum Hasanpaşa Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi). The number of couplets of Mawlūd al-sharīf has increased to 202 with the finding of the second copy. About the author of the work that is approximatly written in the XVII. or XVIII. century no information could be found. This study, introduces the Mawlūd al-sharīf and its authors, compares it with Wasila al-nacāt and presents an critical analysis of the text.Summary: The term mawlid means birth, birth time and place of birth. It was used to describe works such as the birth of the Prophet, miracles and the death of the Prophet. Next to these there also many mawlids about the lifes of Fatīma the daughter of the Prophet and her husband Alī, and few about the lifes of a spiritual guide. The first examples of this type seen in Arabic literature are Ibn Dihya al-Kalbī (d. 633/1235), Muhammad al-Azafī (d. 633/1236) and Cafar b. Hasan al-Barzancī (d. 1177/1764); Muhammad b. Masūd el-Kāzarūnī (d. 758/1356) and Sūzanī (d. 569/1173). The celebrations related to mawlid have turned into ceremonial form in the era of the Fatimies. The Fatimies held, Mawlid-al-Alī, Mawlid al-Hasan, Mawlid al-Husayin and Mawlid al-Fatīma ceremonies next to the Prophet’s. The first mawlid ceremony in the form of today was seen in the time of Muzaffar al-Dīn Gokboru (d. 630/1233).Different ideas have been put forward about the first mawlid text in Turkish literature, but Süleymān Çelebi’s Wasila al-nacat has been accepted as a pioneer work in the recognition and love of this kind. Many mawlids were written with the influence of Wasila al-nacat. The likeness of the content and the motifs of the majority of mawlids to Wasila al-nacat is interpreted as a strong sign indicating its importance in this genre. The translation of Wasila al-nacat into Arabic, Circassian, Greek, Kurdish, Tatar, Sawamish, English, German, Albanian, Bosnian... languages ​​should be considered as a factor that exposes its breadth.It is estimated that around 200 Turkish mawlids have been written, but this number is increasing with new studies. One of these mawlids is the work of Enverî Erzincānī called Mawlūd al-sharīf Ethem Erkoç and Mehmet Fatih Köksal are the researchers who have been aware of the existence of this work for the first time. Both researchers mention that the work has 142 couplets and the only copy is that in the Çorum Hasanpasha Writing Works Library (Çorum Hasanpaşa Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi). In his work called Mawlid-nāma Köksal states that there is a second copy of the work, but the copy of Kastamonu, which is known as the second copy, is actually a copy of Wasila al-nacat. In the present study, another more bulky version of Mawlūd al-sharīf was recorded in Çorum Hasanpasha Manuscript Library (Çorum Hasanpaşa Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi). In the catalogs of the National Library (Milli Kütüphane) and Çorum Hasanpasha Manuscript Library (Çorum Hasanpaşa Yazma Eserler Kütüphanesi), the mawlid is indicated as Persian; the reason fort his mistake might be, the fact that the first twelve of the text is Persian.Although there were many poets who used the pseudonym Enverī there is no poet in Turkish literature, who was from Erzincan and wrote a mawlid with the same pseudonym. It was understood that the poet was a sayyid.In five places the author’s name or pseudonym is mentioned. His work shows that he is from Erzincān and that he has a mawlid. As a mawlid poet Enverī, adopted a quite ambitious style. He praises himself for writing in Persian, being the best Persian speaker in this area, and boasted his pure character and wise poetry.In the headlines of the copies the work is called Mawlūd al-sharīf / Sunbul al-gulzār al-kalām al-kadīm. Therefore, it would be more appropriate to consider the work as a double name sage. The copies do not include a record of the copyright date of the work. According to the second copy, which is shorter and which has the impression that it is incomplete, the work was copied in 1249/1833. It can be said that the Mawlid was written in the XVII. or XVIII. century because of its language and style.In the mawlid tradition of writing mawlid, generally masnawī form was preferred. Rarely some mawlids were conposed in verse styles. One of these works, which are two for now, is the one in which Çizmeci-zāde Vehbī wrote the couplets of Wasila al-nacat in sixth verse form. The other one is the Mawlūd al-sharīf of Enverī Erzincān. Mawlūd al-sharīf was written entirely in the form of an ode, except of two stories with 48 couplets must have been added later. The work with 202 couplet was separated from Wasila al-nacat and other mawlids in terms of starting with a Persian tawhid and using the style of an ode. Because of the small number of citations, the subjects described in Wasila al-nacat have not been contacted or have been summarized. Mawlūd al-sharīf is one of the shortest ones. Because of the small number of couplets of Mawlūd al-sharīf, the subjects described in detail in Wasila al-nacat are either not mentioned or only summarized. The work, consists of two major sections: The birth of the Prophet and the miracle of miraj. The remarkable feature of Mawlūd al-sharīf is that the two stories told are identical to the stories in Nasībī Mawlid (XV. or XVI. century). The first story tells how, a Jewish couple living in Baghdad became Muslims because of their respect for the mawlid ceremony. The second story tells about, a young named Alī who organized a mawlid ceremony with little money left from his mother and therefore died with faith. Surprisingly, this similarity is seen in the content and narrative forms of the stories in both texts. The fact that the comparative stories are almost the same makes on think of the possibilities of imitating, quoting or saving rather than an impression of the author by the previous text. Taking into account the chronological time, it seems more likely to accept the quotations in the Mavlūd al-sharīf as duplicating. Writing the stories in Mawlūd al-sharīf after the main chapters and the line differences in the rulers reinforce the impression that the stories are added later. (shrink)

The period from the eighth to the fifth centuries B.C. was one of extraordinary creativity in the Greek-speaking world. Poetry was a public and popular medium, and its production was closely related to developments in contemporary society. At the time when the city states were acquiring their distinctive institutions epic found the greatest of all its exponents in Homer, and lyric poetry for both solo and choral performance became a genre which attracted poets of the first rank, (...) writers of the quality of Sappho, Alcaeus and Pindar, whose influence on later literature was to be profound. This volume covers the epic tradition, the didactic poems of Hesiod and his imitators, and the wide-ranging work of the iambic, elegiac and lyric poets of what is loosely called the archaic age. The contributors make use of recent papyrus finds to fill out the picture of a cosmopolitan and highly sophisticated literary culture which had not yet found its intellectual centre in Athens. (shrink)

This book is an enquiry into memory in the Western world. Specifically, memory is the framework of culture, because it links the present to the past--or tradition--and projects it into the future. For this reason, any work focusing on memory involves a double challenge: (1) to reveal the origin of concepts and (2) to glimpse the course of thoughts. This is the case of the present volume, in which the authors make several tastings of Europe's intellectual heritage, by taking into (...) account both the Greek origin of this legacy and its relevance for understanding the European philosophical heritage. In particular, these papers focus on the Aristotelian tradition, the true keystone of Europe, and on other currents of thought that have also played an essential role in the intellectual evolution of the Old Continent. In the latter field, there are contributions, for instance, on philosophical-religious traditions such as Orphism or on certain fundamental aspects of Neoplatonism both in the Classical World and in Christian authors. The volume concludes with various works on the survival of these intellectual trends from the Renaissance to the present day. Consequently, this work offers the opportunity to delve deeper into some of the aspects that define Western civilisation, observed both from its origin and its evolution over the centuries. The volume contains papers in Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and English. (shrink)

This book tackles the problematic relationship between Platonic philosophy and Romantic poetry, between the intellect and the emotions. Drawing on contemporary critical theory, especially hermeneutics and deconstruction, the author shows that a dialogue between thinking and poetizing is possible. The volume yields many new insights into both Platonic and Romantic texts and forms an important work for scholars and students of Greek philosophy, Romantic literature and critical theory.

Scheherazade Or the Future of the English Novel John Carruthers Originally published in 1928 "A brilliant essay…" Daily Herald A survey of contemporary fiction in England and America lends to the conclusion that the literary and scientific influences of the last fifty years have combined to make the novel of today predominantly analytic. The author argues that it has therefore gained in psychological subtlety, but lost its form and how this may be regained is put forward in the (...) conclusion. 90pp Thamyris Or Is There a Future for Poetry? R C Trevelyan Originally published in 1925 "Learned, sensible and very well-written." New Statesman This volume examines the possibilities of development for modern poetry. 90pp Saxo Grammaticus First Aid for the Best-Seller Ernest Weekley Originally published in 1930 "A very shocking collection of vile phrases from contemporary writers." Daily News Authored by the philologist Ernest Weekley, this volume represents the original emergency grammar manual for time-pressed best-selling writers. 88pp Deucalion Or the Future of Literary Criticism Geoffrey West Originally published in 1930 This book discusses the true function of criticism and asks how modern criticism is performing it. 86pp. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Alcaics In Exile: W. H. Auden’s “In Memory Of Sigmund Freud”Rosanna WarrenOn September 23, 1939, Sigmund Freud died in exile in London, a refugee from Nazi Austria. Within a month, Auden, who had been living in the United States since January of that year, wrote a friend in England that he was working on an elegy for Freud. 1 The poem appeared in The Kenyon Review early in 1940. (...) A stately public ode, the poem mourns not only the death of a publicly significant individual, but the collapse of a world. Hitler had overrun Austria, Czechoslovakia, Poland; assaults on Jews had intensified; England and France had just declared war on Germany. There would be, indeed, many who would have to be mourned:When there are so many we shall have to mourn, when grief has been made so public, and exposed to the critique of whole epoch the frailty of our conscience and anguish,of whom shall we speak?...Someone encountering this poem for the first time, on the page or in the ear, might be pardoned for puzzling over its form. It sounds prosy. It seems to have some recognizable English cadences, pentameters (“[inline-graphic 01]”), tetrameters (“ ”), and even trimeters (“ ”). But the pattern seems unruly, with some [End Page 111] lines stretching out beyond five traditional beats, and ignoring any iambic order: “turned elsewhere with their disappointment as he.” Groping for a more satisfactory principle of organization, a reader with some knowledge of versification may be moved to count syllables. Such a reader will discover that the poem is indeed organized syllabically in lines of 11, 11, 9, and 10 syllables. “Aha,” says the reader, alert to Auden’s intimacy with Classical civilization: “A Horatian ode. Not inappropriate for a formal elegy.” Reflecting further, and leafing through the pages of Horace, that reader will find, or remember, that two thirds of Horace’s odes are in these quatrains, the alcaic stanza. Auden, it appears, has composed his elegy in some version of the meter of Alcaeus, the 7th century b.c.e. Greek poet whose stanza became second nature to Horace. And we cannot enter the world of Auden’s poem without asking, why alcaics? And how do they work here?“In Memory of Sigmund Freud” is sometimes said to be Auden’s first syllabic poem. 2 Others demur, proposing both earlier and later examples. 3 Whatever the spats about dating Auden’s early syllabic practice, scholars conventionally agree that his turn toward syllabic composition reflects his evolving interest in a discursive poetry; in the poet as a private intelligence with a public voice; and in the work, respectively, of Horace and Marianne Moore. Having identified the poem as syllabic, many critics move on to heftier topics like psychoanalysis versus Marxism, Auden more than most poets having laid himself open to an overridingly thematic criticism of Big Ideas. But if, having acknowledged the influence of Horace and Moore in Auden’s refusal of English iambic lyricism here, we stay with the question of meter, we are led back to the older progenitor, Alcaeus, a great poet of exile, whose stanza Auden adopts and adapts. I shall ask how it affects our reading to observe that the stanza itself has a genealogy, and brings its expressive burden to bear on Auden’s poem.“In Memory of Sigmund Freud” relies on a counterpoint of two metrical systems, the largely iambic accentual/syllabic system, traditional in English since Wyatt, and a flattened version of Greek quantitative meter, which was a musical notation of syllable length. For Auden, whose great prosodic facility was almost a handicap, the problem was, “not how to write in iambics but how not to write in them from automatic habit.” 4 Throughout his poetic life, he reached for cadences to interrupt the “natural” iambics, sometimes recalling the Old English alliterative beat, and often turning to ballads and popular tunes for rhythmical variation. By the late thirties, he was not only disillusioned [End Page 112] with the Spanish Civil War and his role as quasi-Socialist bard, but was seeking new compositional principles as well. Free verse was not an alternative: his ear required an evident... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Book Reviews Zoroaster's Influence on Anaxagoras, the Greek Tragedians, and Socrates. By Ruhi Muhsen Afnan. (New York: Philosophical Library, 1969. Pp. 162. $5.00) Of the author's Zoroaster's Influence on Greek Thought a striking flaw was the misleading rifle. In this earlier volume not one example of Zoroastrian impact was pointed out to corroborate the claim. Now, in the preface to the new work, the author discloses that (...) the original title had merely been "Zoroaster and the Trend of Greek Thought" and that the publishers changed it into "Zoroaster's Influence" etc. "to give the book a more attractive heading" (p. 9). This fiat of the publishers, however, was then gratefully felt by the author a~ a "challenge.... prodding" him to the "venture" (cf. p. 10) of attempting to substantiate (what was before just his belief) "that the illumination vouchsafed by Zoroaster generated the Enlightenment attributed to the Periclean Age of Athens" (p, 12) and to demonstrate, for instance, an ostensible basic similarity between the pfiilosophy of Anaxagoras and the teachings of Zoroaster. This venturous attempt fills six long chapters supposed to show that "Medism," or Zoroastrianism, was the great spiritual power menacing the autochthonous Athenian values, and that Anaxagoras and his circle and Aeschylus, Euripides, Socrates, and Thucydides essentially were propagandists of Zoroastrianism who undermined the pagan culture of Athens. True, the general presentation of Medism and its role in the spiritual struggle of the Periclean Age is sometimes thrillingly interesting reading. Yet, for us the main question is: Has the author succeeded in his attempt? There are prerequisites of such an undertaking. Thorough and first-hand knowledge of both sides of the topic is indispensable, in the first place. To question the historical authenticity of a modern believer's presentation of Zoroastrianism might seem improper. But it should still be permitted sharply to distinguish between the official traditional version and the results of recent serious research. The other side of the topic is concerned with those who, according to the author's claim, were downright prophets of Zoroastrianlsm. Whether this holds true of Aeschylus and Euripides, whether, for instance, really all the dramatis personae of Euripides' Ion were meant as nothing, but symbolizations of the antagonistic spiritual powers of Medism and Athenianism, this to discuss, and perhaps to doubt, is up to literary analysts. But two of those alleged heralds are philosophers: Anaxagoras and Socrates. (Incidentally, what about Heraclitus and Empedocles?) Well, let us forget about Socrates. The "real" Socrates is such an intangible figure anyway that it would not make much sense to argue with any of the author's allegations about him. In the presentation and "analysis" of the philosophy of Anaxagoras, however, the decisive shortcomings come to the fore. The level of the author's general philosophical training is not quite equal to the task. Conceptual haziness, confusion [469] 470 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY of fundamental notions (e.g.,"creator" and "demiurge") are omnipresent. Sometimes even a confusion happens of Anaxagoras with Democritus when the "atom" is ascribed to Anaxagoras (p. 48). And the author does not seem to feel the fatal inadequacy of merely second-hand knowledge. While he in longura et latum argues with Aristotelian presentations and misrepresentations of Anaxagorean tenets, there is good reason for the suspicion that he might never have read even one authentic sentence written by Anaxagoras himself. For those interested in general cultural history, this book, the religious diatribe of a modem Zoroastrian believer, is very worthwhile reading. For the historian of philosophy, itis of rather modest value. P-~LIX M. CLEVE New School for Social Research New York City The Esthetics of the Middle Ages. By Edgar De Bruyne. Trans. Eileen B. Hennessy. (New York: Frederick Uugar, 1969. Pp. viii+232. $6.50) This book has a very complex character. It is the English translation of a French work, L'Esth~tique du moyen dge,I which, in turn, is a one-volume abridged version by Edgar De Bruyne of his own original three-volume work, I~tudes d'Esth~tique M~di~vale.2 Thus, one may evaluate this book either as a translation or, presupposing the faithfulness and correctness of the translation itself... (shrink)

Interpretations of Poetry and Religion is the third volume in a new critical editionof the complete works of George Santayana that restores Santayana's original text and providesimportant new scholarly information.Published in the spring of 1900, Interpretations of Poetry andReligion was George Santayana's first book of critical prose. It developed his view that "poetry iscalled religion when it intervenes in life, and religion, when it merely supervenes upon life, isseen to be nothing but poetry." This statement and (...) the point of view it espoused contributedsignificantly to the debate between science and religion at the turn of the century, and itseloquence and clearsightedness continue to have an impact on current discussions about the nature ofreligion.Interpretations of Poetry and Religion affronted Santayana's peers with its assault onliterary and religious pieties of the cultivated classes. William James called its philosophy ofharmonious and integral ideal systems nothing less than "a perfection of rottenness."In hisinsightful introductory essay, Joel Porte observes that while Santayana's theory of correlativeobjects, his espousal of the "ideal" - the normal human affinity for abstraction - and exaltation ofthe imagination may have offended some at Harvard, these ideas had a significant influence on otherHarvard scholars T.S. Eliot and Santayana's "truest disciple," Wallace Stevens.Herman J. Saatkamp,Jr., heads the Department of Philosophy and Humanities at Texas A & M University. William G.Holzberger is a Professor of English at Bucknell University. Joel Porte is Whiton Professor ofAmerican Literature at Cornell University. (shrink)

This edition offers you the first Modern English version of Chaucer's only previously untranslated major work, Boece. Boece is Chaucer's Middle English translation of the 6th-century CE philosopher Boethius's The Consolation of Philosophy. For over a thousand years,,The Consolation underpinned Christian understanding of Fate, Fortune, Free Will, and Divine Providence, and its ideas influenced Chaucer's major works. While many editions offer a Modern English translation from the original Latin, this edition gives you an approachable version of Chaucer's (...) translation and puts you face-to-face with his phrasings and emendations. Here, the father of English poetry's voice finally speaks up, so you can enjoy his poetic turns and even track where the language from Boece echoes in The Canterbury Tales and Troilus and Criseyde. (shrink)

Of the Presocratic thinkers traditionally credited with the foundation of Greek philosophy, Xenophanes, Parmenides and Empedocles are exceptional for writing in verse. This is the first book-length, literary-critical study of their work. It locates the surviving fragments in their performative and wider cultural contexts, applying intertextual and intratextual analyses in order to reconstruct the significance and impact they conveyed for ancient audiences and readers. Building on insights from literary theory and the philosophy of literature, the book sheds new light (...) on these authors' philosophical projects and enriches our appreciation of their works as literary artefacts. It also expands our knowledge of the genres in which they wrote, of the literary culture of the Western Greek world, and of the development of Greek poetics from the Archaic to the Classical periods, exposing the influence of these thinkers on more famous Sophistic and Platonic ideas about literature. (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 22–28. Jeroen Mettes burst onto the Dutch poetry scene twice. First, in 2005, when he became a strong presence on the nascent Dutch poetry blogosphere overnight as he embarked on his critical project Dichtersalfabet (Poet’s Alphabet). And again in 2011, when to great critical acclaim (and some bafflement) his complete writings were published – almost five years after his far too early death. 2005 was the year in which Dutch poetry blogging exploded. That year (...) saw the foundation of the influential, polemical, and populistically inclined weblog De Contrabas (The Double Bass), which became a strong force for internet poetry in Dutch in the years to follow. In the summer of that year, a lively debate raged in the aftermath of Bas Belleman’s article “ Doet poëzie er nu eindelijk toe ?” (“Does poetry finally matter now?”), on a blog specifically devoted to this question. Up to that point, the poetical debate in the Netherlands had largely been confined to literary reviews (which were often subsidized), having become mostly marginalized in more mainstream media, where poetry could be covered by only a small number of so-called authorities. As a result, literary debate had acquired a rather placid quality. Though a variety of camps with different aesthetics could be discerned, most poetical positions shared a general acceptance of poetry as a form of art somewhat apart from fundamental political concerns. Late modernists would pursue subtlety and density of reference. Others would insist poetry was best understood as a form of entertainment that should ideally be accessible and work well on the stage. Still others would insist that poetry is mostly a play with forms. Linguistically disruptive strategies were valued highly by some, but mostly for their aesthetic effect. Values of disinterested playfulness reigned supreme everywhere. Any idea that poetry could be a field in which one confronts politics and the world was decidedly marginal. This led to a climate in which most attempts at polemics were DOA, often based on far too superficial positioning and analysis. The greatest polemical debates were revolving around the question of whether poetry should be difficult or easy, with both camps defining their ideas of difficulty and accessibility in ways that were so utterly shallow as to make the entire point moot. Debates were performed, rather than engaged with. It was a postmodern hell of underarticulated poetics. Half-consciously, people were yearning for new forms of criticism that could put the oomph back into poetry. Weblogs provided for ways to explore debate directly outside of the clotted older channels of the reviews and the newspapers. Belleman’s essay and the resulting online activity had shown that there was a widespread eagerness to take poetry more seriously as a social art form. It was in this environment that Mettes started his remarkable project Dichtersalfabet . At that moment, Mettes was active mostly in academic circles, having become noted at Leiden University as a particularly gifted student of literary theory. Within the Netherlands, the field of literary theory has a very odd relationship to literature as it is practiced in the country. Academic theory tends to have a mostly international view and engage with international debates of cultural criticism, literary theory, and philosophy, with academics often publishing in English and attending conferences around the world. Literature itself however is much more concerned with domestic traditions. Consequently, in the Netherlands, there exists a language gap between academic theoretical practice (as it is studied in the literary theory departments) and literary practice (which, academically, gets studied in specialized departments of Dutch literature). The Dichtersalfabet can be seen as Mettes’s attempt to close this gap. It is also an attempt to bridge the divide between theory and practice, in which he could apply his theoretical knowledge in a very unorthodox and unacademic critical mode that moreover could reach far beyond the domain of conventional criticism. Mettes’s goal was to trace a diagonal through Dutch poetic culture, to “strangle” what he perceived to be its dominant oppressive traditions of agreeable irrelevance, in order to see whatever might be able to survive his critical assaults. But he could only do so by means of a very serious engagement with poetry itself. To this end, he would go systematically through the poetry bookshelf of the Verwijs bookshop (part of a mainstream chain of booksellers) in The Hague, buying one publication per blog item, starting from A and working his way through the alphabet, reading whatever he might encounter that way in the restaurant of the HEMA store (another big commercial chain in the country). He would subsequently write down his reading experiences, refraining however from trying to write a nuanced book review. Rather, he would write about anything that caught his attention and sparked his critical interest. This way of working would yield vast, at times somewhat rambling, dense, lively, and generally brilliant essays, in which he held no punches. He never hesitated to pull out his entire arsenal of concepts from the international theory traditions, while never degenerating into mere academic exercise and pointless intertextualities. The attempt was rather to live the poetry that he read, and to engage it with the full range of political, academic, cultural, and personal references that he had at his disposal—all that composed the individual named Jeroen Mettes as a reader. Often what he wrote would not be according to the standards of what we usually think of as a critical review of a book of poetry. Sometimes he would even be a little sloppy in his judgments of poets or representations of the books he read, for example by basing an entire essay on the blurb of a book rather than its poetry content. But what he did was always brilliant writing nonetheless—virtuoso riffs on poetic fragments randomly found within capitalist society, exposing an incisive and insistent poetical sensibility. Mettes read poetry for political reasons, to see whether poetry could offer him a way to deal with a political world he detested. The right-wing horrors of the Bush years, the Iraq war, and the turn of Dutch public opinion towards ever more conservative, narrow-minded, and xenophobic views alongside a complete failure of the political left to present any credible alternative, were weighing heavily on the times in which Mettes reported on his reading. Poetry was to measure this world, diagram it, to lay bare its inconsistencies and faults, to indicate where lines of flight might be found. Amid the ruins of a world wrecked by imperialist policies, corporate capitalism, and doctrinal neoliberalism it would have to show the possibility of a new community. And it was, through its rhythmical workings, to release the reading subject from his confinement to ideologically conditioned individuality and lead him into the immanent paradise of reading. The stakes were high. Much higher than anything Dutch poetry had seen for many years. Mettes’s blog was widely read from the start. His posts sparked lively debates. Some of these subsequently led to the publication of extensive essays on a few key poets in some literary journals, particularly Parmentier and the Flemish journal yang , for which Mettes would become a member of the editorial board, a few months after starting the Dichtersalfabet . This could have been the start of a brilliant career, but this was not to be. The initial manic energy that fueled the blog gradually subsided. The Alfabet was updated less and less regularly. Mettes sometimes just disappeared for many weeks, then suddenly returning with a brilliant essay. Until, on September 21, 2006, he posted his final blogpost, consisting of no text whatsoever. That night I learned from his mentor at Leiden University that he had committed suicide. Mettes and I had had some fruitful exchanges on poetry, rhythm, music, and form, mostly on the blogs, but also by email. Three weeks before his death was the last time I heard from him: a very sudden, uncharacteristically curt note saying “My old new sentence epic.” Attached to that message I found a DOC-file of a work so major that I felt intimidated. This was N30 , a text he had been working on for over five years. After his death, it took me a long time before I dared to read it in its entirety. In the meantime, the work of preparing the manuscript for publication was entrusted by his relatives to his colleagues at yang magazine. It took them a few years to brush up the text and to edit the Dichtersalfabet -blog (which, apart from the Alphabet project itself, incorporated many other fragments of political, polemical, and theoretical writing) into book form along with the essays. The result of this labor was finally published in 2011 as a two-book set, and Mettes burst onto the Dutch poetry scene for the second time. The work was widely reviewed, on blogs, in journals, magazines, and newspapers. Many critics who had not followed the blogs in 2005 showed themselves surprised, baffled even, by the intensity of Mettes’s critical writing. But for those who had read the blog, the main surprise was in the poetry. During Mettes’s lifetime, some of his poems had already been published in Parmentier . Although these were strong texts by themselves, in no way did they prepare readers for N30 . Nothing like it had been written in Dutch before. Instead, N30 explicitly follows the American tradition of Language Writing, directly referencing Ron Silliman and his concept of The New Sentence. However, it would seem that much of the poetical thinking around his use of this technique puts him closer to a writer such as Bruce Andrews. For Mettes, using non sequiturs as a unit of poetic construction was not only a way of reinventing formal textual construction, but it was another way of finding the fault lines in the social fabric. From the perspective of the Language tradition, one may put N30 somewhere between Silliman and Andrews. N30 shares an autobiographical element with Silliman’s New Sentence projects, and as in Andrews, there is a concern for mapping out social totality within text—what Mettes refers to as a “textual world civil war.” Again this shows a formal textual strategy for allowing the person “Jeroen Mettes” to be absorbed by the world, which here appears as a whirlwind of demotic and demonic chatter, full of violence, humor, intensity, beauty, disgust, sex, commerce, and strife. Influenced as it may by American precursors, Mettes’s tone and form end up quite different from his American counterparts, consistently referencing a world that is Dutch, all too Dutch, taking on the oppressive orderliness of Dutch society with its endemic penchant for consensus by introducing chaos into its daily life and laying bare its implicit aggressions. The work’s 31 chapters each have a different feel and rhythmical outline, but none of them follow a predetermined pattern. Rather, Mettes would consistently edit and reedit the text, randomly rewriting parts of it, as he explains in his poetical creed Politieke Poëzie (Political Poetry). N30 – referring to the 1999 antiglobalist protest in Seattle – was to be the first text of a trilogy. The work itself was written “in the mode of the present.” A second text was to be written in the mode of the future, and a third one, in the mode of the past, was going to be an epic poem about the Paris Commune, and to form an alternative poetic constitution for the European project. I still deeply regret that Jeroen Mettes never got to complete those projects, just as I would be very keen on knowing what he might have had to say about more recent political developments. Instead, in 2006, he remained stuck in the horrors of the present, that ended up consuming him completely. He left Dutch literature with some of its most piercing criticism and its most profoundly moving, exciting and powerful poetry. Excerpts from N30 Translated by Vincent W.J. van Gerven Oei from Jeroen Mettes. "N30." In N30+ . Amsterdam: De wereldbibliotheek, 2011. Published with permission of Uitgeverij Wereldbibliotheek, Amsterdam. Chapter 1 1999. A day is a space too. And another man, who had chained himself, had his ribs crushed, and a motor has driven over somebody’s legs. Dutch health care system spends ±145 million guilders per year on worriers. A spiderweb vibrates as I pass by. Randstad renovating. She slaps her bag against her ass: “Hurry up!” OPINION IS TRUE FRIENDSHIP Your skin. It doesn’t express anything. “But the use of the sword, that’s what I learned, and you’ll need nothing more for the moment.” Just try to interrogate a guy like that. Gullit in Sierra Leone. Codes silently lying all around. But that’s simply what belongs to “that it’s just allowed”: that sigh of “world” (a word expressing that the trees are now standing along the water like black men with white bags in their hair); that’s nothing else right? And you see how everything has to move, and first of all what cannot do so. Without Elysium and without savings, barbarians lashing out, horny for an enemy, staring across the water, staring into the air—staring to get out of it. “You’ve never showed me more than the mall,” she said. All those “dreams” in the end—and now? It was lying on the stairway, so I picked it up and took it upstairs. Chapter 3 “You know what?” Telecommunication. For love… I don’t really like that cheap cultural pessimism, but… The holy city is on pilgrimage in the earthly bodies of the faithful until the time of the heavenly kingdom has come. The end of an exhausting autumn day behind the computer, my eyes filled with tears of fatigue. KITCHEN / INSTALLATION / SPECIALIST. Network integration. In the sun, stretched out on a sheet. (…) I don’t believe what I’m reading, because I want to believe something else. An illusion? Suits me. There’s a variety of shapes and tastes… “So what?” you may think. 102 dalmatians can’t be wrong. But I want more, dear… A feel good movie. I’m smashing the burned body. So what? We continue to save the European civilization. What’s there to win? Plato with poets = Stalin without gulag? Ball against the crossbar. No wonder. She comes straight to her point. She’s standing in the kitchen eating an apple. (…) The godless Napoleon had used her as a stable and wanted to have her taken down. “Our” Rutger Hauer. Ready or not here I come. Psst… are you also wearing a string? Nobody understands our desire. Cliffs breaking the waves and shattering the sunset. I used to be a real romantic (as a poet). A typical fantasy used to be the one in which I brutally raped mother and daughter Seaver from the sitcom Growing Pains . Nevertheless you only contain bad words. Eyelashes. Automatic or manual? That your skin always in the afternoon. Integration. The air is empty. Too bad! Hand in hand on their lonely way. Alaska! Chapter 12 May 5, 2001 [10:00-10:30] A dust cloud on a hill. Globe. Indian (British) (tie) / pope. Damascus. Rape. We’re carrying the ayatollah’s portrait through the streets. At the moment the girl is mostly suede jacket with white ribbons on her sleeves. A small explosion flares up/impact. Camouflage. Close up. We’re analyzing the situation. He’s dead right? Dead dead. Dead. Everything without, these, and only with the body. Indices signal death. Dollar bills are printed in factories. Holes. Light patch. Globe in a box. Microphone. What’s the situation? Grey impact on a green hill (field?). The water is blue. He has no lips. Interns on the background with skirts that are too long. This is an example of a sonnet. An Islamic woman pushes against the door of an electronics shop. Arrows (percentages (prices)). Is this what awaits the American? Touch screen interface. The word, an island, can only be a sign in that situation. We pull up a chair, join in on the fun. On the shelves only books about computers. One glance in the distance is enough to lighten up a luna park in the distance. She’s really desperate, especially when she laughs. Click. Ah. Next. And now it’s raining, but that’s ok. Yellow stains sliding over the south. Shallow caves light: clothes, boots, electrical equipment. 45. 22:10. Nothing gives you the right to eat more than people starving to death. The Hague. Slam dunk. Traffic light. Two H’s, one L (standing for the L (little prick)). We’re happy to say something. Clouds, small suns, temperatures, cities. The truth is never an excuse. Yellow. Yellow. Green. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Green. Green. Yellow. Will you email me? Skeleton: “No.” Ex-nerds in brand-new and brightly red sport cars. $$$. I love. Shihab. Hooves in the sand. Skinny senior with over-sized sunglasses; old jockey (cap, trophy) smiling in slow motion. And there I am again, flashback, crying with my head in between my hands. Sometimes I’ve got the feeling that cannibals. Eyes: blue. Cancer. Why would I wait until tomorrow? Golden beams protruding from the lifted/lit earth. May 5, 2001 [11:30-12:45] You’ll remember this for the rest of your life. Graphs, diagrams. Bu$ine$$. Blue shirt, white collar, no neck (porn star). A name lights up. I’m hysteric. Will you join us? Letters falling in their words. Fingers set up a tent and start to dance. Young entrepreneurs from poor neighborhoods (read: black) guided by Microsoft. Kinda makes me happy, that sort of kitsch. A sense of exhaustion/impotence to see anything but the present. (…) Wouldn’t you like to? Orange explosion in an industrial zone. YOU’RE DOING THIS FOR AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL. Would you. A familiar face. Clouds and blossom. Sunflowers. Supermodels. Mountainous area in a rectangle: shades of brown, from dark to beige, more green toward the south. Tents and next to them (it’s all a blur) people. Plane. Stadium. Geometrical block of people. No, I ain’t crying. I don’t speak no more. I just want. Quote + photo. (Positive:) screaming crowd. Three-piece suit, seen from the back, before entering the arena. On the back: “Daddy abused me.” Oh, bummer. State of emergency has been declared and everyone has to cooperate. She’s cut her wrists. What we do know (…) is that there’s never been a unique word, an imperative name, nor will there ever be. [Click here for work that suits you.] Barefooted children are watching it (coherent pieces revelation of what’s lying below). Who knows how she’s changed during those two years. “Everything used to be better” + sigh. And here we are. An empty field of parquet. A city lying behind it. Explosion. Blue. A rain drop falling in my coffee. May 5, 2001 [14:30-15:30] A young Arafat on video speaking with raised finger. “I’m calling from my convertible.” Names on walls, victims, numbers… Tourists. Yellow. Yellow. “Your own child! Really, what kind of human are you?” I don’t want to hear it no more. A woman jumping out of the water in a yellow bikini against a background of fireworks and the Cheops pyramid. Thy sorrow shall become good fortune, thy complaints laudation. All planets will float and wander. Wo die Welt zum Bild wird, kommt das System (…) zur Herrschaft. It is something, but is it? May 5, 2001 [18:30-19:00] Iris. Leaves. NASDAQ. Open / and white and. For the one who’s doing nothing, just waiting. (…) NO DEFEAT is made entirely up of defeat -- since / the world it opens is always a place / formerly / unsuspected. October 2002. “Jeroen, I’m leaving for the cemetery, byeeee.” The rise of the middle class. My entire oeuvre is an ode to the. My entire head is a fight against the. God always demands what you cannot sacrifice. You may take that the easy way, but… “The state hasn’t made us, but we make the state” (Hitler). A stork exits the elevator. Skeletons of. Moscow. Helsinki. Palermo. Paris. Chapter 30 Like your paradises: nothing. United Desire, as only remaining superpower. And even though the sea is now calmer and the wind is blowing pleasantly in my face… Heart! Who determines whether a tradition is “alive”? The yellow leaf or the white branch? Mars. This sentence is a typical example. Most Dutch people are happy. No consolation. When I see a girl sitting at a table with a book, a notepad, a pen, a bottle of mineral water, her hand writing in the light—then I consider that one thing. “Presents,” “poetry,” “classics.” We are what we cannot make from ourselves. “Left”: mendicant orders, missionaries. Saint-Just: “A republic is founded on the destruction of its enemies.” She crosses the street with a banana peel between her fingers. (…) We chose our own wardens, torturers, it was us who called all this insanity upon ourselves, we created this nightmare… But “no”? Girl (just like a beach ball) talking rapid Spanish (Portuguese?) in a mobile phone. Do I have a chance now that her boyfriend is getting bold? CLIO, horny bitch. What else do you want? An old woman, between the doors of the C1000, is suddenly unable to go on; her husband stretches out his hand, speaking a few encouraging words. Selection from. Der Führer schenkt den Jüden ein Stadt. How can it reach us if we haven’t been already reached somehow? It doesn’t “speak.” No problem. Each word she uses is a small miracle, as if she doesn’t belong to it, to language, but wanders around with a pocket light looking for the exit; she’s never desperate (maybe a little nervous), lighting up heavy words from the inside. But indeed, we’re free. But the predicate is not an attribute, but an event, and the subject is not a subject, but a shell. That’s why also samurai, knights, and warriors raised the blossom as emblem: they knew how to die. Locked up in a baby carriage with a McDonald’s balloon. Blue helicopter, the blue sky. Whether you want to refer? The point is. How / Motherfucker can I sing a sad song / When I remember Zion? You’ll feel so miserable and worthless that you think: “If only I were dead!,” or: “Just put an end to it!” “So you’re an economist?” Her card—two little birds building a nest, her handwriting shaking—is still on the mantelpiece. Guevara: “No, a communist.” A straw fire, such was our life: rapidly it flared up, rapidly it passed. I’m fleeing, coming from nowhere. (…) Eazy-E drinking coffee with the American president. If I’d scream, would that be an event? Drown it: the cleaner it will rise up from the depths. No! The night, so fast… As if there’s something opened up in that face. Come on, we may not curse life. He shows me his methadone: “If you drink that all at once, you’ll die instantly.” The last one dictates how we should behave to deserve happiness. One shine / above the earth. “I want to go to Bosnia,” I said bluntly. I don’t even know the name of the current mayor. Let’s despise our success! “There is no future; this is the future. Hope is a weakness that we've overcome. We have found happiness!” Sun. Sushi. Volvo. I feel like a bomb about to explode at any moment. Makes a difference for the reconstruction right? The decor moves forward. Daughter of Nereus, you nymphs of the sea, and you Thetis, you should have kept his tired head above the waves! Alas! This sentence has been written wearing a green cap. I receive my orders from the future. A frog jumps into it. Her husband has turned the Intifada, which he follows daily on CCN, into his hobby, “to forget that he doesn’t have his driver’s license yet." Suddenly the sun slides over the crosswalk. Her (his?) foot is playing with the slipper under the table. Is this how I’m writing this book now? I’m not a fellow man. I hate you and I want to hurt you. These are my people. Their screaming doesn’t rise above the constantly wailing sirens which we've learned to ignore. My whole body became warm and suddenly started to tremble. Unfortunate is he who is standing on the threshold of the most beautiful time, but awaits a better one. Arafat’s “removal” is contrary to American interests. Jeep drives into boy. What you can do alone, you should do alone. A food gift from the people of the United States of America. Two seagulls. [...]. (shrink)

Originally published in 1945, this book contains a history of Ancient Greek scholarship in England from 1700 until 1830. Clarke examines the influence of Greek literature and design on English thinking and architecture, including Lord Byron's views on ancient and modern Greece and Lord Elgin's controversial acquisition of the Parthenon Marbles. This book will be of value to anyone with an interest in Classical reception and the history of Classical education.

This second installment in a chronologically arranged, three-part sequence continues the author's examination of Anglo-American literati who, in the later nineteenth and twentieth centuries, turned — in acts of combined xenophilia and xenophobia — to Russian literature and literary theory in order to escape the dominant influence of avant-garde movements in France. These Anglophone writers found in Russian exemplars a responsible, morally rigorous, and pragmatic, yet philosophically sophisticated, alternative to what they described as the amoral, superficial, and pretentious aestheticism of (...) French literary culture. Part 2 treats the poetry and criticism of the English “Movement” poet Donald Davie in light of his turn, in 1958, toward the example of Boris Pasternak as a way of escaping the influence of French Symbolist poetics and the post-Symbolist poetics of anglophone modernism. Although Davie understood that Pasternak was as much a modernist as T. S. Eliot or Ezra Pound, he also argued that the Russian's poetry, unlike theirs, sought, on explicitly moral grounds, to maintain conventional syntax and purity of diction, with the result that Pasternak's verse communicates with the reader more as prose than as music does. (shrink)

Interpretations of Poetry and Religion is the third volume in a new critical edition of the complete works of George Santayana that restores Santayana's original text and provides important new scholarly information.Published in the spring of 1900, Interpretations of Poetry and Religion was George Santayana's first book of critical prose. It developed his view that "poetry is called religion when it intervenes in life, and religion, when it merely supervenes upon life, is seen to be nothing but (...) poetry." This statement and the point of view it espoused contributed significantly to the debate between science and religion at the turn of the century, and its eloquence and clearsightedness continue to have an impact on current discussions about the nature of religion.Interpretations of Poetry and Religion affronted Santayana's peers with its assault on literary and religious pieties of the cultivated classes. William James called its philosophy of harmonious and integral ideal systems nothing less than "a perfection of rottenness."In his insightful introductory essay, Joel Porte observes that while Santayana's theory of correlative objects, his espousal of the "ideal" - the normal human affinity for abstraction - and exaltation of the imagination may have offended some at Harvard, these ideas had a significant influence on other Harvard scholars T.S. Eliot and Santayana's "truest disciple," Wallace Stevens.Herman J. Saatkamp, Jr., heads the Department of Philosophy and Humanities at Texas A & M University. William G. Holzberger is a Professor of English at Bucknell University. Joel Porte is Whiton Professor of American Literature at Cornell University. (shrink)

Although the influence of Homer on Western literature has long commanded critical attention, little has been written on how various generations of readers have found menaing in his texts. These seven essays explore the ways in which the Illiad and the Odyssey have been read from the time of Homer through the Renaissance. By asking what questions early readers expected the texts to answer and looking at how these expectations changed over time, the authors clarify the position of the Illiad (...) and the Odyssey in the intellectual world of antiqueity while offering historical insight into the nature of reading. The collection surveys the entire field of preserved ancient interpretations of Homer, beginning with the fictional audiences portrayed within the poems themselves, proceedings to readings by Aristotle, the Stoics, and Aristarchus and Crates, and culminating in the spritiualized allegorical reading current among Platonists of the fifth and sixth centuries C.E. The influence of these ancient interpretations is then examined in Byzantium and in the Latin West during the Renaissance. Contributors to this volume are Robert Browning, Anthony Grafton, Robert Lamberton, A.A. Long, James Porter, Nicholas Richardson, and Charles Segal. Robert Lamberton is Assistant Professor of Classics and John J. Keaney is Professor of Classics, both at Princeton University. Originally published in 1992. The Princeton Legacy Library uses the latest print-on-demand technology to again make available previously out-of-print books from the distinguished backlist of Princeton University Press. These editions preserve the original texts of these important books while presenting them in durable paperback and hardcover editions. The goal of the Princeton Legacy Library is to vastly increase access to the rich scholarly heritage found in the thousands of books published by Princeton University Press since its founding in 1905. (shrink)

The aim of this article is to familiarize the Polish reader with Poets and the Poetry of Poland, the first extensive anthology of the Polish literature published in English in the United States by Paweł Sobolewski. Particular emphasis was placed on the characteristics of this work, recreating the traces of reception of this work and showing the most important sources on which the author relied. The presented article also points out the importance of Sobolewski’s literary and cultural activity, (...) as he initiated multifaceted, often pioneering projects, becoming one of the leading Polish diaspora activists in the 19th century’s United States, also active in the American community. This paper was partially based on the source materials collected by Mieczysław Haiman at the Polish Museum in America, to which the access was possible thanks to a Kościuszko Foundation scholarship. The historical analysis of the sources based on the descriptive-historical paradigm was adopted as the basic tool. Noteworthy, the Poets and Poetry of Poland was the crown work of Sobolewski’s many-year mission, related to the desire to make Americans familiar with the Polish culture and to present it in representative forms. The anthology, including the translations of the works of 60 authors from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century, gave an insight into the multi- faceted recognition of the biographies and literary works of eminent Polish poets, mostly belonging to the times of Romanticism and the Enlightenment. Despite the strong inspiration from Rycharski’s textbook and other sources, the final shape of the volume was influenced by the editor’s personal experiences, his reading preferences and contact with the authors. The selection of works and the structure of the conducted argument reflect the spirit of affirmation for the great tradition created by the first generation of romantics and the significance of the November Uprising, in which Sobolewski took part. (shrink)

Benedetto Croce’s influence pervades Anglo-Saxon culture, but, ironically, before Giovanni Gullace heeded the call of his colleagues and provided this urgently needed translation of _La Poesia, _speakers of English had no access to Croce’s major work and final rendering of his esthetic theory.__ __ _Aesthetic, _published in 1902 and translated in 1909, represents most of what the English-speaking world knows about Croce’s theory. It is, asserts Gullace, “no more than a first sketch of a thought that developed, clarified, (...) and corrected itself through new literary experience and more mature reflection.” During the 34 years between _Aesthetic _and _La Poesia _, for example, Croce added a striking new element to his thought: the analysis of prose literature. Gullace’s introduction to _La Poesia _constitutes a major under­taking in its own right. It is aimed at acquainting the reader with the evolution of Croce’s thought and at explaining the relation­ship between this final work and the philosopher’s previous work in esthetic theory and literary criticism. __ _La Poesia _is divided into two parts, text and postscripts. The text consists of four chapters: Poetry and Literature; The Life of Poetry; Criticism and History of Poetry; and The Formation of the Poet and the Precepts. Croce saw the postscripts “as a re­laxed conversation after the tension of theoretical exposition. In Gullace’s translation the text and relevant postscripts appear conveniently side by side in a double column. Gullace has anno­tated both text and postscripts. (shrink)

This is a new edition of "A Problem in Greek Ethics," originally published in London in 1901 for "private circulation." Part of the project Immortal Literature Series of classic literature, this is a new edition of the classic work published in 1901-not a facsimile reprint. Obvious typographical errors have been carefully corrected and the entire text has been reset and redesigned by Pen House Editions to enhance readability, while respecting the original edition."A Problem in Greek Ethics" is an (...) account of sexuality between men in all its forms, with Greek culture as a backdrop. Perhaps the best description of "A Problem in Greek Ethics" is this one in "Queer Religion" (Praeger, 2012, edited by Donald L. Boisvert and Jay Emerson Johnson, pp. 180-181): "Published at the turn of the century, 'A Problem in Greek Ethics' is a systematic and well-documented exposition of the role of homosexuality in the different historical periods of ancient Greek society. Throughout most of his work, Symonds prefers to use the term 'paiderastia' to 'homosexuality,' the latter a term he only uses in rare instances. Nevertheless, 'paiderastia,' in Symonds's work, amounts to a broad concept of homosexuality rather than to our current concept of pederasty. Whitman and his work are never mentioned by Symonds in 'A Problem in Greek Ethics,' but the conceptual connection had already been made explicit in Walt Whitman: 'A Study' eight years earlier. In the introductory lines to 'A Problem in Greek Ethics,' the reader is alerted that ancient Greece offers a unique example in history of 'a great and highly developed race not only tolerating homosexual passions, but deeming them of spiritual value, and attempting to use them for the benefit of society.' According to Symonds, while homosexual relations were not prominent in the so-called heroic age of Greece, it was nevertheless the love of Achilles for Patroclus, as narrated by Homer, that conferred in a later age of Greek history an almost religious sanction to the martial form of paiderastia. This episode in the Iliad inspired in later generations an ideal of manly love, which he describes as 'a powerful and masculine emotion, in which effeminacy had no part, and which by no means excluded the ordinary sexual feelings.' To which he adds that the tie created by these relationships was 'both more spiritual and more energetic [than] that which bound man to woman.' While Homer knew not about homosexuality, very early in Greek history paiderastia became a national institution giving rise, according to Symonds, to a distinction between a noble, spiritual, form of masculine passion, which he calls "heroic love," and a base and sensual one, which he identifies as 'vulgar love.'"About the Author: John Addington Symonds was born in Bristol, England, in 1840. He was an English poet, an author of several works, and a literary critic. In 1873 he wrote "A Problem in Greek Ethics," which discussed homosexuality between men. He printed ten copies in 1883, before effectively publishing the book in 1901. He was also known for his work on the Renaissance, as well as for his translations and biographies. He wrote "Our Life in the Swiss Highlands" (1891), biographies of Philip Sidney (1886), Ben Jonson (1886) and Michelangelo (1893), several volumes of poetry and essays, and a translation of the "Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini" (1887). John Addington Symonds died in Rome in 1893. In 1896, Havelock Ellis published, in German, prepared with the collaboration of Dr. Hans Kurella, "Das konträre Geschlechtsgefühl" (Leipzig, by Georg H. Wigand's Verlag), later revised and published by Ellis as "Sexual Inversion"-the first medical text in English about homosexuality, which he had co-authored with Symonds, and which would become a part of Ellis's six-volume "Studies in the Psychology of Sex.". (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 World War II, however, that lonely masculine authority of experience—the bitter authority derived from direct exposure to violence, injury, and mechanized terror—was rapidly dispersing among generally populations. Graves, notes, with some discomfort, that the Second World War soldier “cannot even feel that his rendezvous with death is more certain than that of his Aunt Fanny, the firewatcher.”5 American culture was, obviously, characterized by far greater disjunctions between male and female “experience” of war than the British blitz society Graves describes, (...) and the modern tradition of soldier poetry, with its ironic emphasis on unmendable gaps between the soldier author and the civilian reader, retained its strong influence. Still, public discussions of war and literature in the United States dwell frequently on the new conjunctions between civilians and soldiers, front and home front, and men and women, focusing on their shared morale or effort as well as on their common deprivation and vulnerability.In a war newly perceived as “total,” [Marianne] Moore’s work could exemplify the power of a representative civilian voice. It could also represent modernism provisionally embracing realist and didactic functions, coming round to correcting earlier trends toward self-referentiality. Thus Richard Eberhart, arguing in his introduction to a well-known anthology of war poetry that “the spectator, the contemplator, the opposer of war have their hours with the enemy no less than uniformed combatants,” praises Moore for abandoning the “complacencies of the peignoir” to write “In Distrust of Merits.”6 His phrasing links Moore with another civilian war poet, Wallace Stevens; by dressing Moore in Stevens’ Peignoir in order to show her doffing it, he represents her as a formerly feminine object of desire who has emerged from the coquetries of her sex into a new, superior, gender-free authority Now, Eberhart argues, “the bloodshed of which she writes has caused her to break through the decorative surface of her verse” to a “different kind of utterance.” For Eberhart, the poem’s value lies in its violation of Moore’s usual mannered aestheticism. She “breaks through” a feminine surface, as if puncturing skin, but the result is not a wound but a mouth: a “different kind of utterance,” in which “the meaning has dictated the sincerity.”7 Oscar Williams, in the preface to a comparable anthology, also reads the poem as a model of transparent earnestness, offering it as a solution to the problem of Edna St. Vincent Millay, the “bad” woman war poet who is excoriated in these discussions as often as Moore is extolled. Describing one of Millay’s war poems as “a sentimental piece of verse written by an American civilian, designed to be read by … people themselves out of danger because they are protected by a wall of living young flesh, much of which will be mangled,” Williams contrasts Moore’s “In Distrust of Merits”: But with true poets the poetry is in the pity …I ask the reader to study closely a war poem peculiarly fitted to illustrate my present thesis. It is also written by a woman, a civilian. “In Distrust of Merits,” by Marianne Moore, is the direct communication of honest feeling by one ready to search her own hear to discover the causes of war and accept her full share of responsibility for its effects.8 5. Graves, “The Poets of World War II,” p. 310.6. Richard Eberhart, “Preface: Attitudes to War,” in War and the Poet: An Anthology of Poetry Expressing Man’s Attitudes to War from Ancient Times to the Present, ed. Eberhart and Selden Rodman , pp. xv, xiii.7. Ibid., p. xiii.8. Oscar Williams, ed., The War Poets: An Anthology of the War Poetry of the Twentieth Century , p. 6. Susan Schweik is assistant professor of English at the University of California, Berkeley. She is at work on a book manuscript entitled A Word No Man Can Say for Us: American Women Poets and the Second World War. (shrink)

Lewis Richard Farnell's five-volume The Cults of the Greek States, first published between 1896 and 1909, disentangles classical Greek mythology and religion, since the latter had often been overlooked by nineteenth-century English scholars. Farnell describes the cults of the most significant Greek gods in order to establish their zones of influence, and outlines the personality, monuments, and ideal types associated with each deity. He also resolutely avoids the question of divine origins and focuses instead on the (...) culture surrounding each cult, a position which initially drew some criticism, but which allowed him more space to analyse the religious practices themselves. Written to facilitate a comparative approach to Greek gods, his work is still regularly cited today for its impressive collection of data about the worship of the most popular deities. Volume 3 focuses on the cults of Ge, Demeter, Hades, and Rhea. (shrink)

This historical survey of Greek literature from 700 BC to 550 AD concentrates on the principal authors and quotes many passages from their work in translation, to allow the reader to form his own impression of its quality, including Homer, Plato, Aristophanes, and Euripides. Attention is drawn both to the elements in Greek literature and attitudes to life which are unfamiliar to us, and to the elements which appeal most powerfully to succeeding generations. Although it is recognized that (...) this appeal lies above all in the most creative and inventive period, an account is given of the eight hundred years which followed, which saw the impact of earlier inspirations. Poetry, tragedy, comedy, history, science, philosophy, and oratory are all examined through the available literature. This new edition has been revised to take account of recent scholarship, such as the influence of oriental traditions of Greek literature, and includes several new translations and a thoroughly updated bibliography. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Lexicographica Graeca: Contributions to Greek LexicographyGregory R. CraneJohn Chadwick. Lexicographica Graeca: Contributions to Greek Lexicography. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996. vi 1 343 pp. Cloth, $85.This books constitutes, as the opening sentence of the introduction states, “the product of a lifetime of Greek studies,” and every Hellenist is aware of John Chadwick’s work on Linear B. Less conspicuous but immensely important have been his lexicographic efforts, (...) the influence that he has had upon the new [End Page 636] supplement to LSJ, and the impact that he promises to have upon the desperately needed revision to the Liddell-Scott Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon. His Lexicographica Graeca allows us to assess many of his ideas and reveals to an audience beyond the committees, memos, and private presentations of scholarly production the directions in which he would like future work to proceed. The majority of the book consists of notes and analyses on individual entries in LSJ—one could describe Lexicographica Graeca as a three-hundred-page referee’s report that found its way into print. In many cases, the comments assume that readers will have first familiarized themselves with the LSJ entry. Few without strong lexicographic interests may find this exercise appealing, but anyone seriously concerned with the ways in which we write about Greek language will find plenty to consider in this publication. The thirty-page introduction, however, is well written and engaging, and I imagine that this section of the book will be much photocopied and much more widely read. In itself it is a document of great historical importance and should be scrutinized carefully by any subsequent historian of the study of Greek, for Chadwick articulates a succinct but broad-minded view of where Greek lexicography stands as the twentieth century comes to an end.Yet there is a central irony to this publication. Chadwick’s introduction dwells quite engagingly on the length of his career, but he makes it clear towards the end that he still sees himself as the bright young man who began more than forty years ago to challenge a hidebound establishment. He prophesies “with assurance” (and, it might be added, with obvious relish) “that many of the new ideas to be found in these pages will be attacked and rejected simply because they are not what everyone expects to find” (25). While I can see much that is new and can imagine outraged philologists shaking their heads at Chadwick’s presumption (if anyone of his distinction and seniority can be said to be presumptuous), I find the book itself to be significant precisely because it takes traditional lexicography about as far as it can go. It stands at—and, I suspect, marks—the end of a tradition of lexicographic practice that Liddell and Scott began more than a century and a half ago.All of our assumptions about what a lexicon can and might be must take into account the physical media at our disposal. The limitations and strengths of LSJ are inextricably intermeshed with the limitations and strengths of the printed codex. Chadwick is acutely aware of this: he prints (19) a formula that equates the “efficiency” of a lexicon to “usefulness” divided by “weight”: in other words, a 2 kilogram lexicon is half as efficient as a 1 kilogram lexicon. He agonizes over the fact that any enlargement would have to be justified in terms of the added weight (29). He is not unaware of electronic tools and offers the commonplace assertion (28) that “whatever the future of personal computers, it is hard to imagine that we shall ever be able to dispense with the printed book.” He then goes on to make a subtly perceptive statement: “For most purposes small-scale dictionaries will always be needed” (emphasis mine). The qualification [End Page 637] is significant in that he makes no attempt to argue explicitly for the value of massive print lexicons, instead shifting his ground to much more defensible smaller publications.The codex is a horrible medium for the publication of massive reference works in which readers look up small bits of information at a time and which ought to be updated on a regular basis... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Greek Drama and the Invention of Rhetoric by David SansoneJon P. HeskDavid Sansone, Greek Drama and the Invention of Rhetoric. Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012. xi + 258 pp. Cloth $99.95.The central claim of this book is that the development of the art of rhetoric in fifth-century Greece was directly inspired by the revolutionary new genre of tragic drama. This entails a radical departure from what Sansone (...) calls the “standard view” of the origins of Greek rhetoric. As Ruth Scodel has recently and quite rightly pointed out, however, it would be more accurate to call it the “traditional view” (Scodel, Bryn Mawr Classcial Review 2013.06.16). The “standard” view of most of us is to be agnostic about the alleged Sicilian “origins” of rhetorical education and “handbooks” which we find in various ancient sources.Sansone’s thesis, while undoubtedly bold and original, is not completely unexpected. It was only a matter of time before the tragedians became “first inventors” of rhetoric given that some scholars now argue that Tisias and Corax probably did not even exist and that the output of Gorgias and Antiphon is best described as “pre-disciplinary” rather than an instantiation of the discipline of “rhetoric” itself. In other words, Sansone’s argument dovetails nicely with the long-held view, particularly associated with the work of Thomas Cole and Edward Schiappa, that proper rhetoric does not really exist before it is given its name (rhētorikē) in the fourth century.How could tragedy possibly beget rhetoric? Sansone’s answer is ingenious. Because drama presents embodied characters before the eyes of its audience, it is radically different from narrative forms such as epic poetry or lyric. In the latter format, only one character can speak at any one time. In tragedy, the audience also pays attention to the characters on stage who are present but not speaking. This focus on interlocutors’ simultaneous reactions as well as the speaker himself is dubbed “the counterpoint.” For Sansone, this innovation goes hand-in-hand with the fact that Greek texts nearly always describe the audience of narrative forms as “hearers” while the audience of drama are spectators or “viewers.” Sansone gives a good account of the way in which the tragedians can be felt to play with audience expectations through drama’s capacity to direct their focus towards silent or expressive reactions which are simultaneous with another character’s speech. He also writes well on the way in which tragedy entails the dimunition of a Muse-inspired authorial “poet’s voice” in favour of a plurality of characters’ viewpoints. The upshot here is that the playwright is required to compose speeches for characters who are often in a state of conflict, to use in interaction with one another, and before an audience in the theater. For Sansone, this fresh [End Page 155] dynamic is “sufficient to account for the self-conscious theorizing about forms of argumentation that is the essential feature of formal rhetoric” (x).It seems silly to deny some credence to this thesis. Sansone does not discuss the early tragedians’ possible interactions with other elite communicators beyond the thought that Gorgias and his predecessors may have had direct exposure to Aeschylus in Sicily. But one can imagine that politician-orators like Cimon, Themistocles, and Pericles or litigants and intellectuals who predated Antiphon were interested in, and influenced by, the tragedians’ discipline of writing arguments in the voice of a character, not to mention the related requirement to imagine what another character or internal audience of characters might say in reply. There must have been some early discussions in which these people talked about techniques of delivery, persuasion, and argumentation at some level of general principle, self-consciousness, and in relation to shared imperatives between their respective fields. As Sansone shows well, Aeschylus Suppliants 191–203 betrays some self-awareness of the playwright’s ethopoetic mission. This speech from Danaus can also be seen as a moment of quasi-rhetorical instruction.But there is an unassailable problem with the idea that tragedy’s basic formal properties and dynamics constituted the sole driving force behind the invention of rhetorical discourse. Aside from... (shrink)