International legal scholars tend to think of their work as the interpretation of rules: the application of a law 'out there' to concrete situations. This book takes a different approach to that scholarship: it views doctrine as a socio-linguistic practice. In other words, this book views legal scholars not as law-appliers, but as constructing knowledge within a particular academic discipline. By means of three close-ups of the discourse on cyberwar and international law, this book shows how international legal knowledge is (...) constructed in ways usually overlooked: by means of footnotes, for example, or conference presentations. In so doing, this book aims to present a new way of seeing international legal scholarship: one that pays attention to the mundane parts of international legal texts and provides a different understanding of how international law as we know it comes about. (shrink)

Medical research involving human subjects can be risky and burdensome. Therefore, such research must be reviewed and approved by a Research Ethics Committee (REC). To guarantee the safety of the subjects, it is very important that these studies be conducted in accordance with the approved protocol. An important issue in this respect is whether studies include the requisite number of subjects based on the research question. The research question is unlikely to be answered reliably if the requisite number of subjects (...) is not met. In such cases, subjects are exposed to unnecessary risks and burdens. In this descriptive study, the authors evaluated how frequently studies are completed with the required number of subjects. Moreover, the authors identified the characteristics of research that does and does not include the required number of subjects. The results of this study show that a considerable proportion of studies (41/107) were terminated although they failed to recruit a sufficient number of subjects. Furthermore, the authors found that investigator-initiated studies have significantly (p=0.028) more problems in recruiting the requisite number of subjects than studies initiated by pharmaceutical companies. Potential solutions are discussed to reduce the number of studies that do not include a sufficient number of subjects. (shrink)

The attention Seneca attracted in his lifetime and succeeding generations not only preserves information about his biography: it also merits interpretation as a cultural phenomenon on its own terms. This paper argues that the life of Seneca achieved exemplary status because it enabled Romans to think through issues critical to the preservation of social order. As a new man who rose to power as the republican noble families were dying out, Seneca posed the question of imperial succession in an acute (...) form. As a member of an imperial elite that was increasingly inclusive in its recruitment strategies, Seneca validated reliance on education and key cultural competencies as markers of elite status and legitimacy. His renown articulates a shift in emphasis within Roman culture from gloria-the old republican ideal based on zero-sum competition for honor-to claritas, or claritudo-distinction for special achievement or characteristics that grants entrée to a collective elite. The specific cultural competencies demonstrated by Seneca and noted by those who spread his renown alert us to practices the Romans especially valued, namely theatricality, the use of writing to display a persona, the mastery of general discourse, and the interpretation of politics in ethical terms. As an exemplum Seneca could be-and was-the target of both praise and blame. The story of his close relationship with Nero and subsequent tragic death placed him among the sacrificial victims Romans seemed to regard as legitimizing a social order based on domination by a well-defined elite. In addition to various of Seneca's writings, this essay considers in particular the Tacitean narrative of his relationship with Nero, Quintilian's analysis of his achievement and influence, and his depiction in Octavia. (shrink)

This article examines how ‘trauma’ has been conceptualised in the unresolved state of mind classification in the Adult Attachment Interview, introduced by Main and Hesse in 1990. The unresolved state of mind construct has been influential for three decades of research in developmental psychology. However, not much is known about how this measure of unresolved trauma was developed, and how it relates to other conceptualisations of trauma. We draw on previously unavailable manuscripts from Main and Hesse's personal archive, including various (...) editions of unpublished coding manuals, and on Main–Bowlby correspondence from the John Bowlby Archive at the Wellcome Trust in London. This article traces the emergence of the unresolved state of mind classification, and examines the assumptions about trauma embedded in the construct. These assumptions are situated both in the immediate context of the work of Main and Hesse and in terms of wider discourses about trauma in the period. Our analysis considers how a particular form of trauma discourse entered into attachment research, and in doing so partly lost contact with wider disciplinary study of trauma. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Work in Progress: Literary Revision as Social Performance in Ancient Rome by Sean Alexander GurdThomas HabinekSean Alexander Gurd. Work in Progress: Literary Revision as Social Performance in Ancient Rome. American Classical Studies 57. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. xi + 167 pp. Cloth, $74.The New Critical approach to texts of Latin literature as well-formed artifacts comprehensible solely on their own terms has been in decline for some time (...) now. Cultural critics have illuminated the ways in which literary texts intersect with a broad range of practices and discourses; increasing attention has been paid to the cognitive, conceptual, and emotional aspects of poetry and prose; even diehard intertextualists find themselves wondering how to connect literary texts with other communicative systems. Most such work, however, has taken the form of interpretation. Debates have been concerned with the relative weight to be given to internal and external factors in assessing the meaning and significance of texts, but rarely have scholars stopped to ask what is meant by “text” in the context of Roman verbal production. Indeed, critics who insist on the boundlessness of interpretation are among those most committed to the boundedness of the objects to be interpreted.Sean Gurd’s new study reorients discussion of Latin literature by asking whether and when Roman readers and audiences came to regard a text as complete. His interest is still discursive, that is to say, he shies away from detailed discussion of the material practices evidenced in papyri and manuscripts, which in my view is a mistake. Nonetheless, his crisp, insightful examination of the way [End Page 340] multiple Roman (and Greek) authors represent the process of textual revision and completion should force reconsideration of widely shared assumptions about the boundedness and autonomy of the texts that constitute the interpreter’s object of inquiry. On Gurd’s account, the familiar Alexandrian and neoteric concern with formal completeness is just one of many models of textualization available to ancient authors. Like Enrica Sciarrino in her recent study of Cato the Elder (Cato the Censor and the Beginnings of Latin Prose. From Poetic Translation to Elite Transcription [Columbus, Ohio 2011]), Gurd manages to shake things up in part through the simple (and to this writer self-evident and long-overdue) move of including prose as well as poetry in the Latinist’s remit. Cicero and Pliny contribute as much to his account as do Horace and his Alexandrian predecessors.Equally important, if less successfully handled, is Gurd’s identification of different models of craftsmanship implicit in a preference for complete as opposed to revisable texts. Gurd suggests that an Aristotelian model, in which the craftsman has a telos or ideal in mind to which the object is expected to adhere, has been allowed to dominate discussion of texts at the expense of other models, identifiable in the writings of Isocrates, Plato, Quintilian, and others, that allow for revision, by the author or by others, as part of the creative process. I agree, but think the connection between the Aristotelian approach and the literary texts that embody it could have been developed in more detail, as might the philosophical underpinnings of alternative approaches to revision. At the same time, Gurd’s pursuit of the Aristotelian lead through other philosophical writings (Stoic, Epicurean, euphonist) is unpersuasive and a distraction from his main story, which is the diverse uses to which authors assign the process of revision, as discussed in four compelling chapters that form the substance of the book.The first of these chapters groups Isocrates, Plato, and Quintilian as promoters of textual revision as pedagogical strategy. For them, revision of a text is aimed at the improvement of the revising subject as much as the revised text. The ability to collaborate with others, especially apparent in Isocrates’ Panathenaicus, becomes predictive of political competence, while in the case of Plato’s Theaetetus and Euthydemus, revising a text is another means of revising the self. For Quintilian, revision, without entirely losing its Isocratean or Platonic aims, eventually produces a speaker who no longer needs to revise. The practice of criticizing and correcting, alone or with others, generates a substantive transformation of the student’s psyche... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:XY/XOLianne SimonAs a boy child I might once have thrived, but the loss of a Y chromosome in one of the first few cell divisions left me a faie half–girl struggling for life—like some changeling left in place of a human baby. My genetic mosaic of XY and XO cell lines created a fetal legacy of Turner Syndrome medical issues. Among these were delayed growth, a largely absent puberty, (...) and micrognathia—a small jaw that feminized my face. [End Page E11]At two I weighed just eighteen pounds. My parents worried they might lose their little boy, I was that frail. All I knew was I was the smallest of my peer group and had a cute pixie face. I imagined myself a high–spirited elfin princess, but was in truth shy—almost timid—and prone to tears.I first responded to the Gospel at vacation Bible school. One of the women there read me Bible stories. I didn’t understand them all, but I wanted to love Jesus and be a good girl.At nine I was the size of a 6–year–old. By then I’d started growing faster, so my mother stopped taking me to the doctors. I didn’t see one again until an emergency appendectomy in college.Fifth grade brought surprises. Jim melted my heart with his Beatles love songs and cute smile. I dreamed of being his bride. Karen was the first classmate ever shorter than me. We were best friends, but one day the principal said I should play softball with the boys instead of hopscotch with her.My parents allowed me dolls and tea sets, even an Easy–Bake oven. But wearing my sister’s clothes triggered a sad–eyed lecture—boys didn’t do such things. No dresses. No talking with my hands. No long hair. And no crushes on boys.If I prayed hard enough, if I was really good, maybe God would make me a real boy—tall and strong, fast and agile—like my older brother. Two years later, puberty cracked my high–pitched squeal of a voice and sent it sliding down to a mellower soprano. I grew taller, but didn’t get muscles or body hair, and I remained hopelessly uncoordinated. An inguinal hernia kept me from running very far.High school turned my prayers into pleas for mercy. I despaired of ever fitting in. Some Christians might not have welcomed a feminine boy, but the pastor of our Southern Baptist mission considered me one more sinner in need of the saving grace of a forgiving God. He led me to faith in Christ. As a new believer, I assumed I could be a boy for real. Maybe even find a girlfriend. Instead, the mask that allowed me to function socially crumbled, leaving me no place to hide.In the spring of 1970, I registered for the draft. Me fighting in Vietnam seemed a real possibility. Or at least spending time in prison for refusing induction. Except that a delicate intersex kid would never have passed the physical. Nearly perfect SAT scores won me a scholarship to Miami, so I left a supportive home in Illinois for a boys’ dorm in south Florida.My surname then was Klett. The worst of the guys called me Clit, or sometimes Clitoris. Others derided my small size and lack of virility. One propositioned me. Another used to pin me to my bed and lie on top of me until I quit struggling. Though he stopped each time I surrendered, my defenses lay in ruin.A few of the boys were nice. David took me for long rides on his motorcycle, with my arms wrapped tight around his waist. He treated me with gentle kindness and asked nothing in return.To escape the dorm, I studied in the library stacks, where only honors and graduate students were allowed. The next year I found a derelict building where the university stored old theatrical sets. It even had a quiet place to sit in the sun. Best of all—nobody ever went there.One day my imagination wandered through the wardrobe. What would I have worn... (shrink)

Eliciting negative stereotypes about ageing commonly results in worse performance on many physical, memory, and cognitive tasks in adults aged over 65. The current studies explored the potential effect of this “stereotype threat” phenomenon on older adults’ emotion recognition, a cognitive ability that has been demonstrated to decline with age. In Study 1, stereotypes about emotion recognition ability across the lifespan were established. In Study 2, these stereotypes were utilised in a stereotype threat manipulation that framed an emotion recognition task (...) as assessing either cognitive ability, social ability, or general abilities. Participants then completed an emotion recognition task in which they labelled dynamic expressions of negative and positive emotions. Self-reported threat concerns were also measured. Framing an emotion recognition task as assessing cognitive ability significantly heightened older adults’ reports of stereotype threat concerns. Despite this, older adults’ emotion recognition performance was unaffected. Unlike other cognitive abilities, recognising facially expressed emotions may be unaffected by stereotype threat, possibly because emotion recognition is automatic, making it less susceptible to the cognitive load that stereotype threat produces. (shrink)

This paper considers a set of passages from classical Latin literature of the first century BC and first century AD that indicate awareness of the particular transformations undergone by a human body during the process of open-air cremation. Evidence for the extent of cremation throughout the Roman West is reviewed, as are indications that mourners frequently remained near the pyre throughout the lengthy transformation of the corpse into bone-remnants and ash. In addition, archaeological, ethnographic, and forensic evidence documenting the step-by-step (...) changes undergone by the burning body is introduced. Against this backdrop, numerous passages from authors such as Horace, Vergil, Propertius, Tibullus, Ovid, Seneca, Lucan, Statius, and Suetonius take on new significance. Although authors occasionally cite crematory details as such, they more frequently make use of such details in non-crematory contexts in order to achieve a variety of literary and aesthetic goals, including economy of description, reflection on the circulation of substance, and clarification of the process of ekpyrosis, or cosmic conflagration. For these writers considered as a group cremation serves as an indicator of both the abject nature of the human condition and of its potential sublimity. The calculated displacement of key aspects of the crematory process onto non-crematory events and practices mirrors and extends the liminality associated with crematory rites. (shrink)

How does a country repair its harm to a vulnerable minority targeted during times of national fear because of race? How did the United States redress its then popular yet unconstitutional WWII incarceration of 120,000 innocent Japanese Americans in desolate barbed wire prisons without charges, hearings, or bona fide evidence of military necessity? In response to a Congressional inquiry, political lobbying, and lawsuits, the Civil Liberties Act of 1988 directed the President to apologize and authorized over one billion dollars in (...) reparations. Congress also created a fund to educate the public about the government’s false assertion of “national security” to restrict civil liberties. Some considered redress a tremendous victory — rewriting history and personal healing. Others questioned reparations for one U.S. group but not others. Japanese American Redress served as a catalyst for reparations movements worldwide. This paper examines its genesis, legal implementation, and apparent effects. It also explores wide-ranging political mobilization and social meanings of redress and “unfinished business”. Reparations cannot be measured by laws alone. Diverse communities must engage contested questions of history, justice, and belonging. Reparations claims face often unforeseen benefits and limitations. The paper concludes with these “lessons learned” to date. (shrink)

Visuality is a concept used to study vision as an historically and culturally specific activity. Curriculum in the medical humanities could address visuality by stressing how different kinds of practitioners and peoples learn how to see. This paper introduces the visual training promoted by the discipline of art history, analysing early modern French medical images of the unborn as a case study. The goal is to encourage medical practitioners to reflect on their own visual skills, comparing and contrasting them with (...) the visual methodologies of art history. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 123.2 (2002) 257-273 [Access article in PDF] The Colonial Subject in Ovid's Exile Poetry P. J. Davis IN RECENT YEARS ONE FOCUS FOR THE DISCUSSION of Ovid's poetry, including of course the exile poetry, has been its relationship to the Augustan regime. Although employing essentially the same critical assumptions, scholars have divided into more and less conservative camps, arguing for a pro- or anti-Augustan Ovid. (...) 1 However, in the case of the exile poetry at least, this situation has been altered by a chapter in a recent book by Thomas N. Habinek, in which he argues for what might be termed a conservative (i.e., pro-Augustan) reading, but employing forms of argument that, in classical studies at least, are decidedly unconservative. 2 Drawing on the work of the cultural materialists, 3 Habinek draws an analogy between Tristia and Epistulae ex Ponto and later European colonization narratives in order to argue that "Ovid's laments from exile and dispatches from the contact zone of Pontus sentimentalize his own and his readers' involvement in the project of Roman imperialism." 4The suggestion that Ovid's representation of Tomis and the Black Sea region in the first century C.E. has affinities with later European accounts of foreign and especially colonized territories is an intriguing one that clearly merits consideration. Habinek takes the idea still further and suggests that Ovid's mental attitude in Tomis is akin to that of a colonist living in one of the European colonial empires. Indeed, he quotes D. K. Fieldhouse's explanation of the durability of these empires: "The [End Page 257] basis of imperial authority was the mental attitude of the colonist. His acceptance of subordination—whether through a positive sense of common interest with the parent state, or through inability to conceive of any alternative—made empire durable." 5 For us, who are primarily concerned with Ovid, the important issue here is: who is the colonist with whom Ovid is being compared? After all, between the sixteenth and twentieth centuries, across two American continents, Asia, Africa, and Australia, European colonies took many different forms, incorporated many different peoples and embodied widely varying relationships with the metropolitan power. In fact, Fieldhouse's concern here is with the startling character of the American Revolution, for he argues that "loyalty was the norm and rebellion a break with long-established tradition"(1966, 103). For Fieldhouse the colonist whose mental attitude is so important is a male inhabitant of one of Britain's North American colonies in the second half of the eighteenth century. Fieldhouse is not concerned with colonists in general. How appropriate is the situation of this colonist, say, a locally born resident of pre-Revolutionary Boston or New York, as an analogy for that of Ovid among the Tomitans? The resemblance is not immediately striking.Although citing Fieldhouse's analysis of the nascent United States, Habinek makes it clear that in fact he has a very different kind of colony in mind, a colony in which a European power has control over a numerically superior non-European population: "A comparable claim can be made with regard to the agents of Roman imperialism—soldiers, administrators, and culture workers alike—especially as the Roman system was transformed during the Augustan age from what Conrad's Marlow called 'merely a squeeze' to a colonial system of pacification backed up by an idea, namely, the superiority of Roman culture to that of its subject populations." 6 The use of the phrase "White Man's Burden" 7 as the title for this section of the chapter and the reference to Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness 8 suggest that Habinek conceives of Roman Moesia as [End Page 258] analogous to one of Britain's twentieth-century Asian or African colonies. How appropriate is this analogy? No doubt there were soldiers and administrators in the province. Indeed, Ex Ponto 4.7 is addressed to Julius Vestalis, prefect of the maritime coast, 9 while 4.9 refers to L. Pomponius Flaccus, who had held... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Catullan Provocations: Lyric Poetry and the Drama of PositionCarole E. NewlandsWilliam Fitzgerald. Catullan Provocations: Lyric Poetry and the Drama of Position. Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 1995. x 1 310 pp. Cloth, $45 (US), £35 (foreign). (Classics and Contemporary Thought, 1)Fitzgerald’s richly provocative book on Catullus is the first in a promising series edited by Tom Habinek entitled Classics and Contemporary Thought. As (...) the title Catullan Provocations suggests, Fitzgerald’s book and Catullus’ poetry are related in their provoking of readers to reflect on the specific nature of poetic practice. Fitzgerald aims to replace the Romantic construct of Catullus as the individualistic, confessional sufferer with a poet “who explores the terms and possibilities of the poetic licence we have given him” (236). Fitzgerald pursues three layers of argument in each chapter: he explores the positional drama that takes place between poet, poem, and reader in Catullus’ lyric poetry; he situates that poetry within a Roman cultural context, broadly defined; and he critically examines the agenda underlying modern constructs of Catullus. Yet for a book that self-consciously claims an innovative approach, Catullan Provocations is curiously lacking in attention to specifics of gender and readership.Fitzgerald’s methodology is ambitious. He reads together poems that are usually put in separate categories. For instance, in chapter 2 he groups with c. 2 not c. 3, the other sparrow poem, but c. 15 and c. 16 (along with references to other poems), on the grounds that all three poems engage the position of the reader in relationship to the poet’s teasing sexuality. This unconventional grouping is refreshing and forces us to examine entrenched preconceptions. However, Fitzgerald’s habit of often excerpting from the poems and treating them piecemeal sometimes makes the line of argument hard to follow. In addition, wrong citations within the text—poem 16 instead of poem 15 (48), poem 98 instead of poem 58 (79)—give the reader unnecessary provocation. His method depends on careful editing, and here the University of California Press has done Fitzgerald a disservice by omitting two or three columns—around 30 poems—from the “Index of Catullun [sic] Poems Cited.”Catullan Provocations performs a valuable task in undermining the narratives that underpin the traditional constructs of Catullus. In chapter 1 Fitzgerald provides an enjoyable critique of two aspects of the scholarly refashioning of Catullus: first, the anchoring of a varied collection of poems to a single novelistic psyche, and second, the relationship between the poet and the modern scholar who, in producing a master narrative of love and betrayal, becomes, so Fitzgerald suggests, a better substitute for Lesbia in his or her putative greater understanding of the poet. Fitzgerald concludes the book with an interesting examination in chapter 9 of the misogynistic response to Catullus’ poetry by recent creative writers.In the main chapters of the book (2 through 8) Fitzgerald removes the tormented individual from center stage and focuses on the aggressive poetics that [End Page 468] situate Catullus in relation to questions of masculinity, obscenity, urbanity, social and sexual hierarchies, and cultural identity. Through a daring range of linguistic and dramatic strategies Catullus plays with the ambiguous nature of the poet’s position and unsettles the rigid “positives” of Roman social relations, such as the aristocratic network of mutual obligations. These chapters are stimulating, particularly chapter 8, where Fitzgerald argues that not passion for Lesbia or grief for his brother so much as Catullus’ anxieties about his Transpadane origins produce the poet’s most daring experiments in poetic mode and form. However, Fitzgerald’s conscious decision to position Catullus’ poetry not specifically within the culture of the 60s and 50s B.C. but “more broadly in the culture of his time in order to describe the meeting of the lyric genre with Roman preoccupations and norms” (236) sometimes leads to a lack of historical specificity. Aesthetic considerations dominate ethical, social, and political concerns, and questions of publication, circulation, and actual performance within the turbulent cultural milieu of late Republican Rome are not addressed.In addition, Fitzgerald’s judgments are not always supported by full analysis of the poems in question, but rather... (shrink)

This chapter talks about the first season of the TV series Veronica Mars. Additionally, the chapter explores the significance of Veronica Mars's photography. Veronica has found her life irrevocably altered in multiple ways. Her best friend, Lilly Kane, was murdered, her father, Keith Mars, lost his job as sheriff as the result of an apparently bungled investigation into Lilly's death, and Veronica lost her social status and former friends. Subsequently her mother, Lianne Mars, left home, apparently unable to deal (...) with the stress of it all. In addition to all this misfortune, Veronica, had attended a party at which she was drugged and then raped. She states in a voiceover, that she is a marshmallow, ironically though. But at the end of the season she has broken through to a new self‐understanding, which is illustrated in the final scene. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 123.4 (2002) 645-648 [Access article in PDF] Thomas N. Habinek. The Politics of Latin Literature: Writing, Identity, and Empire in Ancient Rome. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998. x + 234 pp. Cloth, $39.50. This is an important book, one that has in its brief life (a paperback edition appeared in 2001) spawned many scholarly debates in both written and spoken form. Many have disagreed—and (...) will disagree—with Habinek's ideas, and I certainly have many questions about his methodology, his use of sources and evidence, and his sometimes conflicting claims. Nonetheless, he takes on one of the most serious issues in Classics: how we read classical texts, what the reader's involvement with the text should be, and what part ideology plays (and did play) in both the formation and the reception of a text.Habinek's task, as he states it, is to study literature as a representation of society and an intervention in it (3). His overall aim is to assess the social function of Latin literature, a literature that was produced within a traditional aristocratic empire "by and for an elite that sought to maintain and expand its dominance over other sectors of the population through reference to an authorizing past" (3). As his title indicates (with "Politics" coming before "Literature"), he sets out to "politicize and historicize the reading of texts of classical Latin literature that are still too frequently regarded in purely formalistic and aesthetic terms" (4-5) by examining, chapter by chapter, a series of test cases or scenarios that embed Roman literature in its social, economic, and cultural context. This book is meant to offer the reader, then, a "historically engaged mode of reading" (5) by looking at intertexts of many sorts.Such an approach to literature belongs to the school of cultural-materialist studies, those critics who read and analyze literature as "ideological discourse and social institution" (5), and it draws from many schools of thought and disciplines, including Marxism, feminist theory, anthropology, political science, deconstruction, literary criticism, New Historicism, and Foucauldian theory. The genesis of Habinek's book was the close philological study of the "meaning and usage of specific Latin words and phrases in specific discursive contexts" (6). Thus he began with a close examination of the political basis of words but then broadened his lens to analyze textual systems and the construction of political identity. Habinek distinguishes himself from the semioticians and the formalists in his focus on the "interestedness" of textual utterances and the historical and political dynamics of the text. The particular kind of interestedness that Habinek zeroes in on is the Roman aristocratic elite and its anxieties about strategies for sustaining a moral and political hegemony.Habinek enters into a fray that has long simmered in the discipline of Classics but that boiled up into a full-scale battle with the publication of Martin Bernal's Black Athena. Habinek contends that Classical scholars' idealizing view of the ancient world (more Greece than Rome) and their isolation of Latin literature from Roman culture has allowed them to ignore "the social implications of their own practice" (10), a comfortable, ahistoricized position that militates [End Page 645] against reading Latin literature in a sociopolitical framework. If, for example, we read Ovid's exile poetry without acknowledging Ovid's contribution to Roman colonialism and his authorly assistance in constructing and disseminating an imperial discourse of domination, we risk imitating some famous scholarly forebears who "avoided the historical reality of Rome in order to actualize their own fantasies of the apolitical innocence of literature and literary studies" (14). Thus, Habinek sympathizes with Bernal's idea that "scholarship... is influenced by the scholar's sociopolitical background" (173, n. 2), and he urges us to follow Giambattista Vico, who privileged Roman literature and culture (over Greek), saw society and culture as something changing not fixed, and regarded language and cultural institutions as social constructs. Habinek contrasts Vico with figures like Basil Lanneau Gildersleeve, who, in the German Romantic tradition, idealized Greece and firmly separated... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 127.4 (2006) 607-611MuseSearchJournalsThis JournalContents[Access article in PDF]Reviewed byPaul Allen Miller University of South Carolina e-mail: [email protected] Habinek. The World of Roman Song: From Ritualized Speech to Social Order. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2005. x + 329 pp. Cloth, $52.It has become increasingly evident that the texts we study from ancient Rome are embedded objects, implicated in a rich field of symbolic systems and (...) corporeal practices. The image of the poem as an isolated aesthetic object has become untenable as the field has become dominated by concepts of intertextuality, performativity, social construction, and self-fashioning. The text in books like Tony Corbeill's Controlling Laughter (Princeton 1996) is less an object than an action. Thomas Habinek's The World of Roman Song represents an attempt to make good on the promise of these developments by rethinking the entirety of Roman literature as an embedded social process of "song," of marked speech, that stands at the origins of the Roman social order. Ritual hymns, funereal laudations, convivial play, and comedic performances become so many moments in the constitution of what it means to be Roman, even as conflicts between center and periphery, masculine and feminine, vir and cinaedus are both played out and resisted in the various genres that constitute the world of ritualized speech and its formal derivatives.Any such sweeping endeavor brings with it both a necessary boldness—asking us to rethink the history of Roman culture from a new perspective—and the danger of reductiveness. For the most part, these are dangers that Habinek manages skillfully to skirt through a combination of fine-grained philological analysis and a sophisticated, but never overbearing, theoretical apparatus. The World of Roman Song features close readings of the usage of words such as cano, carmen, dico, ludus, convivia, and sodalis, from their earliest attestations through their appearance in later imperial literature. It also deploys an intellectual armature that draws upon contemporary anthropology, Frankfurt-school Marxism, object-relations psychoanalysis, and the theories of Bourdieu, Bakhtin, and Bataille. Yet, as we shall see, the very methodology that makes this sweeping [End Page 607] and important survey possible—the examination not of texts but of lemmata to trace the memes of Roman self-constitution through formalized language—leads to certain unavoidable distortions. Complex textual systems become reduced to exemplary moments of embeddedness. This reduction is an enabling gesture that like any mode of analysis, however, ultimately produces its own limit.For this reader, the heart of the book is to be found in chapter 4, "Song and Play." Here Habinek traces the relation between three primary sets of terms: dico, dictum, and implicitly dictator, meaning to make an authoritative statement; cano, canto, and carmen, meaning to perform a song (carmen) of one's own (cano), or to repeat that of another (canto), so as to establish a relation between the singer and the constituted social, and ultimately cosmic, whole, via ritualized speech; and ludo, ludus, and lusus, referring to scripted or formalized movements of the body. Thus a poetic ludus, such as that described in Catullus 50 between the poet and Licinius Calvus, would refer not so much to the acts of song (carmina) to which the game of composition gave rise as to the formalized interchange and embodied practice of writing capping verses in different meters in a convivial setting. The previous chapter, "Song and Speech," had established the difference between loquor and dico, with the former referring to unmarked speech and the latter to the making of statements that the speaker asserts as authoritative and hence true. It is thus possible for the terms cano and dico to overlap and those of ludo and cano as well. Nevertheless, the ultimate dream of aristocratic Roman manhood (and, as any number of feminists would point out, of patriarchy as a whole) is for carmen—the ritualized speech that constitutes the community as a living unity—to assume the status of dictum, authoritative speech freed from the... (shrink)