In the famous and widely cited opening of hisSatires 1.4, Horace states :Eupolis atque Cratinus Aristophanesque poetaeatque alii quorum comoedia prisca uirorum est,si quis erat dignus describi, quod malus ac fur,quod moechus foret aut sicarius aut alioquifamosus, multa cum libertate notabant. 5.

The article considers the question of the study of satire in philosophy. The study found that satire is an underdeveloped topic in the field of Ukrainian philosophy and the philosophy of Englishspeaking countries. For instance, the works of the last five to six years by such philosophers as D. Ab rahams and D. Declercq, who echoed the opinion of C. W. Mendell concerning the close connection of satire with philosophy. In the work “Satire as Popular Philosophy” created at the be (...) ginning of the 20th century Mendell proved that ancient satire was a type of philosophy. Ne vertheless, the issue of the first place of appearance of the genre of satire in the period of Antiquity, whether in ancient Roman or ancient Greek art, needs to be clarified. Therefore, the purpose of the article is to solve a number of related questions, namely: where previously appeared satire as a genre — in Ancient Rome or in Ancient Greece, why it got such a name, and what metamorphoses took place with it over time Antiquities. One of the primary sources about the history of satire was Aristotle’s work “Poetics”, which describes iambic (humorous) and satirical poetry. According to Aristotle, the nature of satiric poetry undergo metamorphosis from the “dance” tetra meter to the iambic meter characteristic of mocking poetry. In this regard, the main part of the work is devoted to proving that satiric poetry got its name from mythological goat-like satyrs and if the performers of iambic (derisive lyrics) could be ordinary people, then the performers of satirical poems — only mythological goat-like satyrs. As a result of the research, it was found that initially the genre called satire had a poetic form and was borrowed by ancient Roman poets from ancient Greek artists. The adopted type of satire received the name “satura”, in Latin meaning “miscellany or medley” of prose and verse form of presentation of the creation. (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)

Timon is an ancient Greek skeptic fed up with dogmatic nonsense about the beginnings of the universe. One night, he dreams of a boisterous "Battle of Brains" between history's major religious and philosophical authorities. Highly satirical, IN THE BEGINNING depicts this battle in a clear and readable style, faithfully detailing each contender's cosmology, including wisecracks and barbs aimed at rival sages. Timon himself pulls no punches in attempting to resolve the debate, even bashing belief itself. A simple spectator, however, (...) gets to throw the last punch when he divulges "The Real Truth of Everything.". (shrink)

The following study draws evidence from the fragmentary treatises of Philodemus of Gadara in order to explore the moral content of Satires 1.1 with respect to wealth administration. I provide a reading of this poem that underscores Horace's effective synthesis of Greek thought and Roman culture, which is made possible by the influence of contemporary philosophical treatments that were tailored to fit the concerns of wealthy Romans. Furthermore, I offer an alternative to the many references previous scholars have made (...) to Aristotle and the Cynics by elucidating Horace's economic message, which, being totally consistent with the details of Philodemus' economic concerns, is in many ways more Epicurean than anything else. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Making Mockery: The Poetics of Ancient SatireCedric LittlewoodRalph M. Rosen. Making Mockery: The Poetics of Ancient Satire. Classical Culture and Society. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. xiii + 294 pp. 4 black-and-white figs. Cloth, $55.This book ranges from pre-literary myths and rituals of abuse to the verse satire of Juvenal in pursuit of a poetics of mockery largely abstracted from the historical contexts of its production. We set (...) the various poetic modes of Greco-Roman mockery more successfully in their historical contexts, Rosen argues, with a synchronic appreciation of the literary phenomenon we recognize broadly as satire. The Roman practitioners of this famously home-grown genre themselves demand that we broaden our horizons: Persius, for example, prefaces his satires with fourteen lines of choliambics, while Horace (mis)represents his satiric predecessor Lucilius as deriving entirely from Old Comedy (Satires 1.4.1–7). Rosen’s study is bounded by the limits of poetry: Lucian’s comic sketches have no place in this book because they lack the “otherness” of poetic speech to demarcate them from the rhetoric of the everyday. This is a distinction with which I think one may valuably take issue—the prose of Petronius’ Satyricon hardly lacks markers of its own fictionality—but it is an important one for Rosen (see below on Callimachus, Iambus 1). Drama provides the fundamental model for the satiric posture: the poet, whether or not he plays a role himself in his comedy, stages a performance of mockery for an audience. Poetic mockery is a ritual act, and the chorus of Aristophanes’ Frogs (368–76) could draw an analogy between the abuse performed in one Dionysiac ceremony (the initiates’ procession to Eleusis) and in another (comic drama). How exactly comic mockery may have evolved from religious ritual is neither Aristophanes’ nor Rosen’s concern: their aim is to invoke the ritual of religious practice as a model for the conventions of art.Comic mockery is an ugly and potentially dangerous art. For his first case study, Rosen discusses the myth of Iambe, etymological kin to the iambus of poetic invective. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Iambe interrupts the grief of her mistress with jests ( 1, 202). Demeter laughs and ends her grieving fast. Rosen argues that Iambe’s comic interlude was abuse directed against the goddess who, with her laughing response, recognized the performance of mockery as something different from an act of hostility. Whether Demeter was the target of abuse or simply the audience of a breach of decorum is hard to determine from the text, but N. J. Richardson (The Homeric Hymn to Demeter [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1974], 215) usefully records the parallel Alexandrian myth of Ascalabus, whom Demeter turned into a gecko because he laughed at her in the same circumstances. The fate of the obscenely joking Cercopes who are released [End Page 433] by a laughing Hercules rather than killed in anger provides another model not just for the restorative power of laughter but for the appropriate reaction to comic mockery. What, then, are we to make of Homer’s Thersites? Gregory Nagy argued (The Best of the Achaeans: Concepts of the Hero in Archaic Greek Poetry [Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1979], 260–62) that the base and ugly Thersites personifies the poetry of blame. His depiction and his fate show this genre’s inferiority to the epic poetry of praise. For Rosen, although many poetic characters engage in the practice of blame, “there can only be one playing the role of blame poet... and the criterion for identifying him as such is the level of “righteousness” he can persuade an audience he has on his side” (76). This, in my view, is a very difficult argument to sustain. Rosen acknowledges that an inscribed audience (here the Achaeans) does not offer a secure guide to the righteousness of the speaker, that the high moral stance of a poetic mocker is typically compromised by irony and by comedy, and that the terminology of mocker and mocked is “labile and unstable” (116). Nevertheless, a satirist whose righteousness is only intermittently convincing (as is often the case) is to be seen... (shrink)

SummaryStarting from late Classical-early Hellenistic age a series of witty, lighthearted and irreverent funerary verse-inscriptions aiming to produce some effect of amusement or laughter appeared on a number of monuments, reaching their apogee during Greek-Roman era. Most of them originated in Asia Minor and Rome. Some earliest examples were related to widespread hedonistic exhortations on tombs. Their later ramifications, consisting of ironical or playful expressions, amusing puns and instances of black humour, were written in a more satirical vein, except (...) with inscriptions dedicated for animals that were rife with sentimental motifs. Remarkably diverse as they were, such verse-inscriptions cannot be defined in terms of a distinctly separate, continuous tradition, but they shared some common features. Lacking – for the most part – conventional and formulaic elements, they struck us as heavily individualised, which sets them apart from the mainstream tradition of funerary poetry. This in turn might shed some light on social standing or/and mentality of individuals who opted for such expressive ways of remembering the dead. (shrink)

Beginning with the representation of age in extremis in the nature morte or still life, a depiction of aged artifacts and representations of vanitas, artistic representations particularly in painting associate woman and death. Looking at artistic allegories for age and ageing, raising the question of aura for Walter Benjamin along with Ivan Illich and David Hume, this essay reflects on Heidegger on history together with reflections on the ‘death of art’ as well as Arakawa and Gins and Bazon Brock, both (...) as artists ‘at your service,’ as Brock would say, contra death, and including a brief discussion of wabi sabi and kintsugi. The ‘ageing’ of art includes a review of the (ongoing) debate concerning Michelangelo’s forging of the Laocoon as well as ancient views of age together with contemporary philosophic reflections (Simone de Beauvoir and Michel de Certeau). The figure of Baubô in ancient Greek sculpture and cultic context can make it plain, as Nietzsche shows (as Sarah Kofman follows him on this), that laughter and death are connected (along with fertility cults in antiquity). Satire preserves the Greek tradition of laughing at death and the essay closes with Swinburne. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Books ReceivedAndrianou, Dimitra. The Furniture and Furnishings of Ancient Greek Houses and Tombs. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. xvi + 213 pp. 24 black-and-white figs. Cloth, $80.Andrisano, Angela Maria, and Paolo Fabbri, eds. La favola di Orfeo: Letteratura, immagine, performance. Ferrara: UnifePress, 2009. 255 pp. 41 black-and-white figs. Paper, €15.Bartsch, Shadi, and David Wray, eds. Seneca and the Self. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. ix + 304 pp. (...) 1 black-and-white ill. Cloth, $99.Bers, Victor. Genos Dikanikon: Amateur and Professional Speech in the Courtrooms of Classical Athens. Hellenic Studies 33. Washington, D.C.: Center for Hellenic Studies, 2009. Dist. by Harvard University Press. ix + 159 pp. Paper, $15.95.Bowie, Ewen, and Jaś Elsner, eds. Philostratus. Greek Culture in the Roman World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. xii + 401 pp. 14 black-and-white ills. Cloth, $135.Bowlby, Rachel. Freudian Mythologies: Greek Tragedy and Modern Identities. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. viii + 251 pp. Paper, $49.95.Calame, Claude. Poetic and Performative Memory in Ancient Greece: Heroic Reference and Ritual Gestures in Time and Space. Hellenic Studies 18. Washington, D.C.: Center for Hellenic Studies, 2009. Dist. by Harvard University Press. xii + 267 pp. 9 black-and-white figs. Paper, $19.95Collins, Paul. Assyrian Palace Sculptures. With photographs by Lisa Baylis and Sandra Marshall. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2009. 144 pp. Numerous color ills. Cloth, $45.Coltman, Viccy. Classical Sculpture and the Culture of Collecting in Britain Since 1870. Classical Presences. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. xiv + 315 pp. 85 black-and-white figs., 32 color plates. Cloth, $99.Comoth, Katharina. Gott selbst und die Idee. Beiträge zur Philosophie. Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag Winter, 2009. 86 pp. 2 black-and-white ills. Paper, €10.Connelly, Joan Breton. Portrait of a Priestess: Women and Ritual in Ancient Greece. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007. xv + 421 pp. Numerous black-and-white figs., 27 color plates, 3 maps. Paper, $35. [End Page 345]Eezzuduemhoi, James. I. A. A Fundamental Greek Course. Ed. Glenn Storey. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 2009. xxxv + 547 pp. Paper, $65.Erskine, Andrew, ed. A Companion to Ancient History. Blackwell Companions to the Ancient World. Malden, Mass.: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009. xxxvii + 693 pp. 27 black-and-white figs., 5 maps. Cloth, $199.95.Flower, Harriet I. Roman Republics. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2010. xv + 204 pp. Cloth, $29.95.Föllinger, Sabine. Aischylos: Meister der griechischen Tragödie. Munich: C. H. Beck, 2009. 224 pp. 5 black-and-white ills. Cloth, €24.90.Goldhill, Simon, and Edith Hall, eds. Sophocles and the Greek Tragic Tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. xvi + 336 pp. Cloth, $99.Grethlein, Jonas, and Antonios Rengakos, eds. Narratology and Interpretation. Trends in Classics 4. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2009. vii + 630 pp. Cloth, €93.41.Haziza, Typhaine. Le Kaléidoscope hérodotéen: Images, imaginaire et représentations de l'Égypte à travers le livre II d'Hérodote. Études anciennes 142. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 2009. 393 pp. 7 black-and-white figs. Paper, €45.Jouanna, Jacques, and Franco Montanari, eds. Eschyle: À l'aube du théâtre occidental. Entretiens Hardt 55. Geneva: Fondation Hardt, 2009. Dist. by Vandoeuvres. xi + 510 pp. Cloth: SFr 85.Johnson, Mark J. The Roman Imperial Mausoleum in Late Antiquity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. xviii + 296 pp. Numerous black-and-white figs., 16 color plates. Cloth, $95.Kronenberg, Leah. Allegories of Farming from Greece and Rome: Philosophical Satire in Xenophon, Varro, and Virgil. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009. xi + 223 pp. Cloth, $99.Loukopoulou, Louisa D., and Selene Psoma, eds. Thrakika Zetemata. Vol. 1. In collaboration with Athéna Iakovidou. Meletemata 58. Athens: Research Centre for Greek and Roman Antiquity of the National Hellenic Research Foundation, 2008. Dist. by Boccard. 175 pp. Numerous black-and-white figs. Paper, price not stated.Lowrie, Michèle, ed. Horace: Odes and Epodes. Oxford Readings in Classical Studies. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. viii + 472 pp. Cloth, $199; paper, $75.Martin, Gunther. Divine Talk: Religious Argumentation in Demosthenes. Oxford Classical Mongraphs. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. ix + 345 pp. Cloth, $125. [End Page 346]Mendoni, Lina G., and Sophia B... (shrink)

Among the works of the ancient Greek satirist Lucian of Samosata, well-known for his scathing and obscene irony, there is the novel True History. In this work Lucian, being in an intense satirical mood, intended to undermine the values of the classical world. Through a continuous parade of wonderful events, beings and situations as a substitute for the realistic approach to reality, he parodies the scientific knowledge, creating a literary model for the subsequent writers. Without doubt, nowadays, Lucian’s large (...) influence on the history of literature has been highlighted. What is missing is pointing out the specific characteristics that would lead to the placement of True History at the starting point of Science Fiction. We are going to highlight two of these features: first, the operation of “cognitive estrangement”, which aims at providing the reader with the perception of the difference between the convention and the truth, and second, the use of strange innovations (“novum”) that verify the value of Lucian’s work by connecting it to historicity. (shrink)

It seems that a Greek romance named Chaereas and Callirhoe—if it was in fact written about A.D. 50—might be the oldest extant romantic novel.1 Chaucer's Troilus, Chretien's Erec, Apuleius' Metamorphoses, and for all l know Homer's Odyssey have already blushed under this dubious accolade; and I do not mean to celebrate an old Greek book by thrusting an English genre-label upon it. But nothing quite like Callirhoe survives from an earlier period of western literature; and following our inclination (...) to comprehend such a phenomenon by fitting it into familiar categories we would call it a Greek romance because it is written in Greek, a novel because it is an extensive prose fiction of ordinary moral life that conforms to a recognizable canon of realism, and a romance because its admirable protagonists suffer the most serious threats to their lives and values but survive them all. Its author, a certain Chariton of Aphrodisia, a small city in the province of Caria in Asia Minor, places his book about Callirhoe in the Hellenistic genre of the erotikon pathematon—a story of erotic suffering. This is an accurate label and perhaps a bold one, as erotic pathemata were thought to be more suitable for epic or elegiac verse than for prose. In any case, I am not here concerned to argue that Callirhoe is the precursor of such entities as the novel, nor to speculate about its cultural origins, nor to point out its obvious likenesses to later narratives. I do want to discuss the habits of narrative art Chariton exploits in his book, and to explore a few of the ways he makes erotic suffering pleasurable for his readers—us, and the leisured, literate members of the bourgeois households that had for centuries flourished in the great Hellenic cities of the eastern Mediterranean basin. · 1. I accept the date accepted by Ben E. Perry, The Ancient Romances , p. 350. The standard edition is W.E. Blake's , whose translation I use throughout. Chariton's work did not see print until 1750, so it did not enjoy the vogue enjoyed by other Greek romances in the Renaissance. Arthur Heiserman is the author of several articles, short stories, and Skelton and Satire. 'Aphrodisian Chastity" will appear as a chapter in his forthcoming book, Romance in Antiquity: Essays and Discussions about the Beginnings of Prose Fiction in the West. (shrink)

This book offers a new description of the significance of Hesiod's 'myth of the races' for ancient Greek and Roman authors, showing how the most detailed responses to this story go far beyond nostalgia for a lost 'Golden' age or hope of its return. Through a series of close readings, it argues that key authors from Plato to Juvenal rewrite the story to reconstruct 'Hesiod' more broadly as predecessor in forming their own intellectual and rhetorical projects; disciplines such as (...) philosophy, didactic poetry and satire all engage in implicit questions about 'Hesiodic' teaching. The first chapter introduces key issues; the second re-evaluates the account in Hesiod's Works and Days. A major chapter outlines Plato's use of Hesiod through close study of the Protagoras, Republic and Statesman. Subsequent chapters focus on Aratus' Phaenomena and Ovid's Metamorphoses; the final chapter, on the Octavia attributed to Seneca and Juvenal's sixth Satire, broadens ideas of Hesiod's reception in Rome. (shrink)

The primary obscenity futuo is unsurprisingly rare in literary Latin. Apart from a single occurrence in Horace's Satires, its usage is limited to the even lower genre of scoptic epigram, as represented by Catullus, Octavian, Martial and the Priapeia, though it frequently occurs in graffiti. Adams has shown how it tends to be a neutral and even affectionate term, lacking any sense of aggression, though not of the assertion of conventional virility. Nevertheless, it is used almost exclusively of recreational, extramarital (...) and/or illicit sex. This may be in part a function of the way in which its obscenity and low linguistic register restrict it to the low genres which tend to deal with such subject matter, but this is a potentially circular argument and, whether chicken or egg came first, the undeniable result is an association of the verb with intercourse which is not primarily or even in any way aimed at procreation. It is striking and anomalous, therefore, when Martial uses futuo, on five occasions, in contexts relating to the production of children. Of course, on a purely logical and biological level, the connection between futuo and the engendering of children is an obvious one. Nevertheless, the aforementioned strong associations of the verb with sex aimed at everything but procreation renders its use in this context jarring. This incongruity and clash of registers is, of course, characteristic of Martial's technique, and the obscenity gains an added spice from being applied to respectable marital relations. The jarring quality is an end in itself and accounts for itself. Yet I wish to argue that there is a further dimension to this discordant association of ‘fucking’ and ‘begetting’, based on a bilingual wordplay between futuo and its near-homonym, the Greek verb φυτεύω. By means of this pun, Martial mischievously suggests not only that ‘fucking’ can be mentioned in the context of ‘begetting’, but also that the two are—in accordance with biology but against all decorum—identical. (shrink)

The _fascinus_, or phallus, was at the heart of classical Roman art and life. No god was more represented in ancient Rome than the phallic deity Priapus, and the _fescennine_ verses, one of the earliest forms of Roman poetry, accompanied the celebrations of Priapus, the harvest, and fertility. But with this emphasis on virility also came an emphasis on power and ideas of possession and protection. In _Sex and Terror_, Pascal Quignard looks closely at this delicate interplay of celebration and (...) terror. In startling and original readings of myths, satires, memoirs, and works of ancient philosophy and visual art, Quignard locates moments of both playful, aesthetic commemoration and outward cruelty. Through these examples, he describes a colossal cultural shift within Western civilization that occurred two millennia ago, as Augustus shaped the Roman world into an empire and the joyous, precise eroticism of the Greeks turned into a terror-stricken melancholy. The details of this revolution in thinking are revealed through Quignard’s astute analysis of classical literary sources and Roman art. This powerful transformation from celebration to fear is a change whose consequences, Quignard argues, we are still dealing with today, making _Sex and Terror_ an intriguing reconsideration of ancient Rome that transcends its history. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:“Warn Me If I Approach the Melody” HELAINE L. SMITH In the 1950s on Saturday night TV, Sid Caesar performed comic sketches for a full hour. In one sketch Carl Reiner played Edward R. Murrow interviewing Caesar as the jazz musician Progress Hornsby. At a certain point Murrow asks Hornsby, “To what do you attribute your band’s great success?” and Hornsby answers, “Well, we have special equipment that warns (...) us if we get anywhere near the melody.” And so it must be with Nancy Worman and all those classicists who approach classics and literature as she does—special equipment to warn them whenever they get anywhere near a responsible reading of the text.* Her argument, cast in sentences whose words, like the amphisbaena, turn back on themselves or are unrecognizable as spoken or written English, boils down to (1) Greek men were colonialists and imperialists; (2) Greek tragedy celebrated men of this sort; (3) there arose, quite to the surprise and possibly to the consternation of its authors, women in their plays who were strong and violent rebels against the oppressive social order; (4) Virginia Woolf, whose feminism is not quite as pure as we’d like it, is not so bad after all because, if you look closely, pulling out the odd word here and there, decontextualizing it, inserting its decontextualized meaning elsewhere and mistranslating any Greek phrase that stands in your way, you discover—voila!—that she held views of Greece and Greek tragedy identical to those of radical feminism and shaped her novels, stories, and essays to reflect that view. Worman’s feminist audience, as familiar as it must be with feminist reception theory, would appear, from the unusual number of play summaries, elementary descriptions of the arion 28.1 spring/summer 2020 *Nancy Worman, Virginia Woolf’s Greek Tragedy. London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2019. xii + 152 pages. $102.00. 150 “warn me if i approach the melody” origin and structure of Greek drama, and serious mistranslations in her book, to be unfamiliar with ancient drama, with basic Greek, and perhaps with Virginia Woolf as well. Her book has from such scholars received copious praise. But for those who begin less thematically burdened and who, as a colleague of mine liked to say, “worship at the altar of the text,” Worman’s methods turn scholarly inquiry on its head, not because of what they conclude, but because her conclusions are reached the same way the Queen of Hearts insisted trials be conducted: verdict first, evidence afterwards. Nor does Worman’s text have any discernible structure. Material within chapters bears fleeting connection to chapter titles and subheads. Points appear, vanish, and reappear, like the Cheshire cat, suggesting prior academic papers, here combined. This overall disorganization weakens the book, as does the non-linear quality of individual points. The organization of this review, therefore, is not thematic but chronological : it addresses those works of Woolf’s to which Worman gives attention, and presents them by date of publication. A Room of One’s Own appears nowhere in Worman’s text, and To the Lighthouse receives only minimal attention. Medea is nowhere mentioned in the favored categories of proto-feminist and fierce woman. While The Trojan Women and The Birds would both have served Worman well in arguing that Greek theatre reflected Athenian imperialism, they too make no appearance in her text. Instead, she casts Sophocles’ Electra and Antigone as fierce women and their plays, together with the Agamemnon, as emblematic of Athenian aggression and patriarchy. And so, in the forced nature of Worman’s translations and in the reductiveness of her assessment of Woolf, we see the consequences of a determination to bend texts to serve popular theories. “a dialogue upon mount pentelicus” (1906) woolf’s views of Greece reveal the complexity of great writing. Woolf frequently satirizes classicists who take their Helaine L. Smith 151 learning to be a sign of natural excellence, those for whom knowledge of Greek is simply a marker of position and rank. But for those who love such things for their own sake, or come to love them, as the tourists eventually do in “A Dialogue upon Mount Pentelicus,” she... (shrink)

lecture 1. The world of the Greco-Roman moralists -- lecture 2. How empire changed philosophy -- lecture 3. The great schools and their battles -- lecture 4. Dominant themes and metaphors -- lecture 5. The ideal philosopher, a composite portrait -- lecture 6. The charlatan, philosophy betrayed -- lecture 7. Philosophy satirized, the comic Lucian -- lecture 8. Cicero, the philosopher as politician -- lecture 9. Seneca, philosopher as court advisor -- lecture 10. Good Roman advice, Cicero and Seneca -- (...) lecture 11. Musonius Rufus, the Roman Socrates -- lecture 12. Dio Chrysostom, the wandering rhetorician -- lecture 13. Dio Chrysostom, preaching peace and piety -- lecture 14. Epictetus, philosopher as school teacher -- lecture 15. Epictetus, the stoic path to virtue -- lecture 16. Epictetus, the messenger of Zeus -- lecture 17. Marcus Aurelius, meditations of the king -- lecture 18. Jews thinking like Greeks -- lecture 19. Philo, Judaism as Greek philosophy -- lecture 20. Plutarch, biography as moral instruction -- lecture 21. Plutarch and philosophical religion -- lecture 22. Plutarch on virtue and educating children -- lecture 23. Plutarch, envy, anger, and talking too much -- lecture 24. The missing page in philosophy's story. (shrink)

This paper draws on Juvenal's intertextual relationship with comedy to solve a textual crux involving fish-names. The monograph by Ferriss-Hill will no doubt warn scholarship away from the treatment of Roman satire's intertextuality with Old Comedy for a time. Yet, Greek comedy's influence on Roman satire is far from exhausted, and this paper will show that this influence goes more widely, and more deeply, than is usually seen. In time, one might hope for a renewed monographic treatment of the (...) subject. (shrink)

'you'll find another man to harvest, Glycerion: let this one go' The Greek satirist Lucian was a brilliantly entertaining writer who invented the comic dialogue as a vehicle for satiric comment. His influence was immense, not only in the Greek world, but on later European writers such as Rabelais and Swift. His dialogues puncture the pretensions of pompous philosophers and describe the daily lives of Greek courtesans; they are peopled by politicians, historians and ordinary citizens, as well (...) as by gods and mythic figures. This selection provides a cross-section of Lucian's styles and satirical targets, from serious polemic to lighter squibs and character portrayals. It includes How to Write History and his most famous piece, A True History, a fabulous tale of space travel and a monstrous whale which prefigures the fantasies of Jules Verne. This lively new translation is both accurate and idiomatic, and the introduction highlights Lucian's importance in his own and later times. ABOUT THE SERIES: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the widest range of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, helpful notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more. (shrink)

This book is the first major study of the theme of misanthropy, its history, arguments both for and against it, and its significance for us today. Misanthropy is not strictly a philosophy. It is an inconsistent thought, and so has often been mocked. But from Timon of Athens to Motörhead it has had a very long life, vast historical purchase and is seemingly indomitable and unignorable. Human beings have always nursed a profound distrust of who and what they are. This (...) book does not seek to rationalize that distrust, but asks how far misanthropy might have a reason on its side, if a confused reason. There are obvious arguments against misanthropy. It is often born of a hatred of physical being. It can be historically explained. It particularly appears in undemocratic cultures. But what of the misanthropy of terminally defeated and disempowered peoples? Or born of progressivisms? Or the misanthropy that quarrels with specious or easy positivities (from Pelagius to Leibniz to the corporate cheer of contemporary `total capital`)? From the Greek Cynics to Roman satire, St Augustine to Jacobean drama, the misanthropy of the French Ancien Regime to Swift, Smollett and Johnson, Hobbes, Schopenhauer and Rousseau, from the Irish and American misanthropic traditions to modern women`s misanthropy, the book explores such questions. It ends with a debate about contemporary culture that ranges from the `dark radicalisms`, queer misanthropy, posthumanism and eco-misanthropy to Houellebecq, punk rock and gangsta rap. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Mikhail Bakhtin, Vyacheslav Ivanov, and the Rhetorical Culture of the Russian Third RenaissanceFilipp SapienzaAlthough Mikhail Bakhtin figures centrally in multiculturalism, community, pedagogy, and rhetoric (Bruffee 1986; Welch 1993; Zebroski 1994; Zappen, Gurak, and Doheney-Farina 1997; Mutnick 1996; Halasek 2001, 182; see also Bialostosky 1986) many of his major ideas remain enigmatic and controversial. The elusive aspects of Bakhtin's theories exist in part because rhetoricians know little about Bakhtin's own (...) rhetorical culture. Theorists recognize this problem and call for a reworking of Bakhtin more on his own terms. This call has been made to resolve concerns about Bakhtin's ambivalence toward rhetoric. Since Bakhtin disliked rhetoric, any use of Bakhtin in rhetorical theory is largely a hybrid synthesis of his distinct ideas on poetics, prose, satire, the epic, the novel, and so forth. John Murphy proposes a reconception of Bakhtin closely built around his ambivalence and guided by the question, "what do we [rhetoricians] mean by the concept of a rhetorical tradition?" (2001, 259). The suggestion encourages rhetoricians to take Bakhtin more on his own terms than has been done in the past. Unfortunately, as the word "we" indicates, Murphy reworks Bakhtin primarily in terms of Western ideas about rhetoric. Slavists and "Bakhtinologists" in Russia argue that when talking about Bakhtin, "we" has often meant Western, obscuring the Russian cultural roots of his theories (Kozhinov 1993; Miller and Platter 1993, 118). The privileging of Western perspectives has also been criticized by scholars of other discourse cultures. Discussing American Indian rhetoric, Malea Powell argues that "we" means a Rhetorical Tradition that begins "with the Greeks, goes Roman, briefly sojourns in Italy, then shows up in England and Scotland, hops the ocean to America and settles in" (2002, 397). Differences in interpreting Bakhtin also proceed from translation difficulties between Russian and English. The Russian reader views Bakhtin in more essentialist ways as opposed to the "post-modern give-and-take" theorist of many Western [End Page 123] interpretations (Emerson 1990, 113). Read in the Russian language and from that cultural context, Bakhtin's vocabulary contains "conspicuous" elements of Orthodox Christianity and Slavic nationalist ideas (Kozhinov 1993; Mihailovic 1997) that reveal a Russian theological subtext to his ideas about community and dialogue.In this essay, I provide a reading of Bakhtin against the background of his own rhetorical culture. More specifically, I offer an analysis of an intertextual dialogue about language and community between Bakhtin and the symbolist writer Vyacheslav Ivanov. Scholars identify Ivanov as a poet, philosopher, and teacher who profoundly impacted Bakhtin (Mal'chukova 1992, 55). The Russian symbolists upheld strong nationalist ideals and a linguistic theory rooted in metaphysics (Mirsky 1972, 188). Many Slavists and Russian readers of Bakhtin suspect that Ivanov strongly influenced Bakhtin's rhetoric even though, for reasons unknown but that are suspected to be political, Bakhtin understates his debt to him (Ivanov 2001, 3). Bakhtin was not unlike his contemporaries in sharing an interest and vocabulary that addressed the major threads of symbolism. Read side by side with Ivanov's essays in Russian, Bakhtin's rhetoric displays a mixture of the European, Slavic, and Christian ideals that were in parlance among many Russian theorists in early twentieth-century Russia. Bakhtin and Ivanov give us a glimpse of this rhetorical culture. More specifically, they help us to better understand our appropriations of Bakhtin based on an elucidation of the meaning of specific terms as they existed among Bakhtin's contemporaries.The method that I use requires translation of specific Russian passages into English. Terms and phrases are interpreted against the usage background of others in early twentieth-century Russia. Bakhtin's Slavic-theological connections become evident through the elucidation of these intertextual references. Through this method, a common and accepted practice in Slavic literary studies, the use of key words and phrases are traced in and among texts to identify a discourse among authors and explicate its meaning.1 As Steven Mailloux points out, a "rhetorical hermeneutics" focuses on "the historical sets of topics, arguments, tropes, ideologies, and so forth" that give meaning to rhetoric (1988, 15-16). The approach is necessary due to the unique political and artistic circumstances during the early... (shrink)

In the third century BC Rome embarked on the expansion which was ultimately to leave her mistress of the Mediterranean world. As part of that expansion a national literature arose, springing from the union of native linguistic energy with Greek literary forms. Shortly after the middle of the century the first Latin play took the stage; by 100 BC most of the important genres invented by the Greeks - epic, tragedy, comedy, historiography, oratory - were solidly established in their (...) adoptive Roman forms, and a new genre, satire, had been born. The chapters in this volume describe and analyse the process of creative adaptation which shaped the beginnings of Latin literature and laid the foundations for its future development as one of the great literatures of the world. Essential background is provided by introductory chapters on readers and critics in the Roman world. In these are described the form of the books themselves and the conditions under which they were produced, circulated and read. The whole volume offers an indispensable introduction to the understanding of the nature and quality of Latin literature. (shrink)

According to an ancient stereotype, prominent in Cicero’s writings, Stoics hated rhetoric and were really bad it. But Horaces’ Satires are populated with lecturing Stoics using colorful, effusive language to cure their audience. The paper asks how “rhetorical” Stoics really were and argues that there was a continued tradition of Stoic rhetoric linking the diatribic speech of the Imperial period to its Hellenistic practitioners. It surveys the evidence for Stoic orators and rhetorical writers in the Hellenistic period and presents evidence (...) that Greek Stoics were more eloquent than their stereotype. The paper also suggests reasons for the wood-cut and sometimes fictitious representation of Stoic rhetoric in ancient accounts, in particular a propensity for classification in rhetorical theory, Cicero's dissatisfaction with Stoic terminology, and Cicero's own agenda in self-fashioning his image as an orator and writer of philosophy. (shrink)

The many difficulties the book contains are not due to its translator; Miss Freeman's well-marshalled English seldom leaves us in search of the intended sense. They are due rather to the complex character of the author's mind and to the exigencies of the thesis he is defending. One encounters flights of imagination in which lyrical transports alternate or combine with bold dialectical constructions offered as sober interpretations, and multiple quotations from ancient thinkers and modern critics, confusingly blended with our author's (...) own comments. Signor Untersteiner displays an ability like that of the anatomist Cuvier, and can reassemble the entire structure of a lost sophistic writing from a single bone. He exhumes from the works of many other writers--Thucydides, Plato, Theophrastus, Demosthenes, Sextus Empiricus, Cicero--major conceptions, chapters, or whole treatises, mistakenly incorporated there by later editors, or borrowed without acknowledgment; these and sundry anonymous writings on relevant themes he confidently assigns to this or that beneficiary among the sophists. As the inevitable consequence of this process other thinkers, notably Socrates and Plato, are sadly diminished. Socrates becomes, indeed, almost a superfluity, in whose absence the history of Greek thought would have remained unimpaired. Plato's works serve as happy hunting-grounds for supposed incorporations of sophistic insights; for the rest, he is shown as stone-and-gravel blind to the merits of these rival thinkers. Now, some discounting of Plato's satirical portrayal of the sophists may be admitted as legitimate and necessary. Untersteiner, however, has so far exceeded his allowance here as to reach the counter-absurdity, of which his interpretation of Thrasymachus in the ne plus ultra: to a proper reading, we are told, Thrasymachus is far from being a cynical denier of the claims of moral obligation. On the contrary, he is a broken-hearted idealist, and in calling justice "the advantage of the stronger" he is offering not his own conception of justice but, out of his bitter disillusion, describing what men in their tragic folly have made of that noble virtue. (shrink)

In classical Latin, luxuria means 'desire for luxury'; it is linked with the ideas of excess and deviation from a standard. It is in most cases labelled as a vice which contrasts with the innate frugal nature of the Romans. Latin authors do not see it as endemic but as an import from the East in the aftermath of military conquests--and as a cause of fatal decline. Following these etymological and semantic origins, Roman Luxuria: A Literary and Cultural History discusses (...) the influence of Greek culture on the Roman concept and the peculiar characteristics of Roman luxuria. It analyses Roman views on luxuria through close readings in historical order from Cato the Elder, who regards luxuria as the opposite of the ideal Roman way of life, to the Christian poet Prudentius, who represents it in an allegorical fight with Sobriety. The book attends both to key authors and to wider literary genres, such as historiography and satire. Particular consideration is given to the rhetorical device of personification, which can be traced from the first appearances of luxuria in Latin literature to those of late antiquity. Berno devotes detailed attention to Seneca the Younger, whose work is often preoccupied with this passion. Seneca both defends himself from the charge of luxuria and violently attacks it in others, describing it as the archenemy of a philosophical life. Along the centuries, the focus on luxuria shifts from the economic sphere (and the waste of money) to the erotic, to the extent that in the Christian world it becomes one of the Seven Capital Sins representing the vice of lust. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 124.1 (2003) 153-156 [Access article in PDF] Gesine Manuwald, ed. Der Satiriker Lucilius und seine Zeit. Zetemata 110. Munich: C. H. Beck, 2001. 206 pp. Paper, fi49.90. In mid-February 2001 at the University of Freiburg, a symposium was held under the aegis of Professor Eckard Lefèvre on the theme "Lucilius, Identity, and Alterity." Moving with lightning speed, Gesine Manuwald edited fifteen of the papers given (...) there and had them ready in June so that Beck could publish them in record time. This is the swiftest production of the doings of such a symposium that I have come across. If only there had been some really new things to say about Lucilius, it would make this monograph invaluable. Unfortunately, no new fragments have appeared, and the identity of Lucilius remains shrouded in mystery for lack of new historical evidence. As for alterity, most of the participants in the project did not feel comfortable with addressing that aspect of Lucilius, probably again for lack of useful data on the satirist and his period.Nine of the fifteen papers come from the hands of students and faculty at the University of Freiburg. In addition, there are contributions from Johannes Christes of Berlin, C. J. Classen of Göttingen, Ursula Gärtner of Leipzig, Severin Kostner of Erlangen, Werner Krenkel of Rostock, and Eckart Olshausen of Stuttgart. All of the titles try to link Lucilius with a genre like epic, with a specific poet like Callimachus or Aristophanes, or with a cultural or historical phenomenon like the city of Rome or the times in which the poet lived. One essay alone addresses a specific satire, predictably the Trip to Sicily in Book 3, which provides enough surviving lines to allow a discussion of fifteen pages.Several of the essays illustrate the difficulty of putting a confident hand on the "identity" of Lucilius. Even the famous disclaimer of ambition to become a [End Page 153] publican in the new province of Asia, though firmly linked to Lucilius' name in its text, does not necessarily justify the conclusion that the poet is expressing personal pride as Manuwald claims. A pose is certainly struck, but what exactly is Lucilius proud of, and what does he propose instead? The statement could be the opening to his artistic creed as satirist, but it has other possibilities, e.g., the choice of an Epicurean existence or an attack on equestrian operators, and we need to advance every inference very tentatively. It is indeed quite possible that the lines came from a fictional dramatic situation.The first paper, by Ulrike Auhagen, deals with Lucilius and comedy, an important and difficult topic. In his early poems of the first edition, Lucilius wrote a number of scenes in comic meters. Before he completed that edition, he seems to have decided permanently against those meters, senarius and septenarius, and he confined himself to hexameters in Book 30, the last book of that edition. Did he also abandon the way he used the comic meters? That is, in his early satirical experiments, did he produce little comic vignettes on fictional situations, familiar in Plautus and Terence, or did he use comedy to make satiric commentary on the Rome of his day? If the former, which I had hoped Auhagen would consider, then we can infer the variety of the satura that the poet was exploring. If the latter, then Lucilius is already from his earliest works the hard-hitting moralist that Auhagen imagines, ready to turn any meter and any situation into an arena for his polemics. I would plead for more openness to alterity.Various papers deal with Lucilius' interest in other genres or writers. Thus, Andreas Bagordo downplays the connection with Callimachus, which Puelma Piwonka daringly argued. Bernhard Zimmermann considers Horace's apparent belief that Lucilius depended greatly on Aristophanes, and he puts it rightly into perspective. Manuwald shows how little the satirist admired the Greek and Roman tragedians, but she could have spent more time on the programmatic relevance of his disapproval: he was, after all, staking... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Constructing Literature in the Roman Republic: Poetry and Its ReceptionJoseph FarrellSander M. Goldberg. Constructing Literature in the Roman Republic: Poetry and Its Reception. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005. xii + 249 pp. Cloth, $70.Just what forces in the earlier centuries of the Roman Republic gave shape to the literature of the late Republic and early Principate is an old question that has received new interest in recent years. (...) Sander Goldberg suggests that to put the question as I just have is to put things backwards. In this book he argues that it is not so much a matter of how earlier literature shaped later literature but rather of how scholars and readers in the late Republic converted the poetic remains of earlier centuries into "literature." For Goldberg, literature in the fullest sense did not exist at Rome before a sufficiently large and critically sophisticated reading public had emerged, and until the available texts had been collected, studied, and canonized; and this process, he believes, did not happen or at any rate was not complete until the time of Cicero and, especially, Varro. The latter, one of the heroes of Goldberg's story (and rightly so), was instrumental in (for instance) turning the scores of plays that traveled in his day under the name of Plautus into an authenticated oeuvre of the sort that defines literature: a corpus that can be owned, read and reread, studied, commented upon, argued over, and shared by a community of more or less like-minded, cultivated individuals. Literati, in fact.The idea is developed over a series of six chapters, plus an introduction and "Retrospective." The chapters are advertised as framing a continuous argument but also as capable of being read independently. They are arranged chronologically and bracketed thematically or imagistically by two arrivals: that of the Muse under the aegis of Rome's earliest poets and that of the one desired by Ovid, if not for himself back into Rome then for his works into the state-sponsored collection in the Palatine library. To my mind chapters 2 ("Constructing Literature") and 3 ("Comedy at Work") are the core of the book, as I have hinted [End Page 283] above and will explain further below; but subsequent chapters on tragedy (4, "Dido's Furies") and satire (5, "Enter Satire) offer novel commentaries on the history of these genres.In staking out his position, Goldberg distinguishes himself from two groups who already are rather at odds with one another. On the one hand there are those who think that Roman literature was indeed already literature from "the beginning"—i.e., from the time of Livius Andronicus. On the other are those who might agree with Goldberg that the Romans did not invent literature until the dying days of the Republic but who give credit (or blame) for this achievement mainly to a relatively small group of elite writers. So it will be fascinating to follow the reception of Goldberg's argument in both these camps. I, for my part, would not want to predict what effect the argument will have. Instead, I will mention what strike me as some of Goldberg's more salient points and will add a few comments by way of reaction.The decision to focus on readers strikes me as a positive contribution. Roman literary culture did not just happen, nor was it or could it have been created by writers alone. A public that wanted there to be a literature in Latin, one that was alive to ideas but also to the techniques that writers used to convey these ideas, was essential. Beyond this, scholars and teachers interested in the texts themselves and in showing readers what to do with them, scholars who were ambitious to create a culture of learning similar to the one that had for generations supported Greek literature, played an enormous role. Of course the writers are more visible to us, both as writers and as a peculiarly important audience for one another's work. But even in the smallest estimate of the literate population, there were many more readers than writers, and these numbers of readers are surely as important or more... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Authority and Tradition in Ancient HistoriographyDonald LateinerJohn Marincola. Authority and Tradition in Ancient Historiography. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. xvi 1 361 pp. Cloth, $64.95.Marincola scrutinizes claims to authority and credence in the ancient writers of history, both Greek and Roman. In the synoptic manner of his teacher Charles Fornara (The Nature of History in Ancient Greece and Rome, 1983), Marincola surveys nearly a millennium of explicit (...) statements (xii, 1) and methods implicit in actual practice. Starting from the Milesian Hecataeus and other now fragmentary authors and extending to the truncated text of the Antiochene Ammianus Marcellinus, he chiefly examines the historians proper, but occasionally and justifiably includes relevant comments from other genres, by Aristotle, Cicero, and Lucian in his satire on writing history.Appendix I offers a useful table of the forty-eight historians mentioned. Some authors are mentioned on nearly every page, such as Thucydides and Polybius, while others, such as Hellanicus or the so-called Oxyrhynchus Historian, seem neglected (eight and six references respectively in the very full index, none a serious discussion). A more troubling problem than the quantity of references is that the sheer size of the enterprise prevents Marincola from fully considering the principles and habits of even his principal players: Herodotus, Thucydides, Polybius, Sallust, Livy, Tacitus, and Ammianus.Fierce scholarly controversy is side-stepped (e.g., “tragic history,” 23) because every topic broached requires Marincola to register the positions of his full roster. Since the remnants of the second-stringers are often so meager that we cannot discern, for example, what Psaon of Plataea or Cato did write so as to indicate his position relative to predecessors, the 300-page text suffers the consequence of “catalogue effect,” forever trotting along, as it must, to the succeeding epoch and author. Topoi are responsibly identified, described as they are transmitted from writer to writer, and differences noted. For an example, the historian’s inquiring enterprise that seemed so susceptible to tragic human oblivion to Herodotus, or so necessary an investigation for political acuity to Thucydides, became a pastime for Sallust (when politics had to be abandoned) and comforting escapism for the often unique Livy, luxuriously basking in an antique glow when reliving the days of yore (Praef. 3, 43.13.2). As for recorders’ motives, the self-evident love of ascertaining fact or belief for Herodotus yielded, in some cases, to nocturnal transmissions from the gods through dreams for later chroniclers. Not only Hesiod and Ennius before historiography, but Pliny the Elder, author of the Germania (Pliny Min. Ep. 3.5.4), employed [End Page 303] dreams to legitimate the urge to indite the past (48; cf. Dio 78.10.1–2, and, again, beyond history, Galen, Lucan, etc.; 50 n. 64).Marincola examines how the ancient historians claimed—or created—authority and veracity for their reports. No god, no muse, no oaths or witnesses (5) certify their work, but personal investigation: thus a first-person narrator from Hecataeus (FGrHist 1 F1) onwards. Techniques include imitation of eminent predecessors, explicit modifications of faulty procedures, and presentation of their own personae and their predecessors’ (for example, political and military experience or lack thereof). Imitation emerges as verbal (including dialect: Ionic, Attic), thematic, stylistic, organizational (divisions of the work by seasons, years, campaigns, etc.), and attitudinal (praise, blame, other functions of history). Continuation itself provides a manner of imitation.Marincola’s approach to the presentation of events and to the self-presentation of these historians is fundamentally rhetorical. He discusses topoi on matters such as occasions for writing history, authors’ qualifications (offices, travel, etc.), and the inquiries and efforts (e.g., libraries visited) that they made. He eschews interest in the truth of claims (which he justifies), but his survey method also prevents him from examining each historian’s strategy as part of that author’s epistemological or literary whole. At times (e.g., 76 on narratival credibility), he seems to say that historians were more interested in the credible than the actual. He declares that “history was a branch of rhetoric” (79), but the best of these historians would not endorse this formulation.The approach allows many good comparative observations... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Traditions and Tendencies:A Reply to Carine DefoortRein RaudIn 1899 William Aston, a British diplomat, published the first overall history of Japanese literature in English. In it, Japanese poetry is characterized as follows:Narrow in its scope and resources, it is chiefly remarkable for its limitations-for what it has not, rather than what it has.... Indeed, narrative poems of any kind are short and very few, the only ones which I (...) have met with being two or three ballads of a sentimental cast. Didactic, philosophical, political and satirical poems are also conspicuously absent. The Japanese muse does not meddle with such subjects, and it is doubtful whether, if it did, the native Pegasus possesses sufficient staying power for them to be dealt with adequately.([1899] 1977, p. 24)Nevertheless, Aston took it for granted that Japan had a literature and that one part of it was poetry, even if it did not quite live up to his expectations. Timothy Reiss, writing a century later, was not so generous: he argued that literature in the proper (i.e., his) sense of the word appeared in Europe in the seventeenth century "as part of a social solution to a crisis viewed explicitly at the time as at once logico-linguistic and sociopolitical" (1992, p. 5). As was fashionable at the time, Reiss' voluminous study also set out to prove that, once the crisis had been resolved, literature would also cease to exist.These two approaches can certainly be seen in the treatment of non-Western philosophical traditions as well. We might say that Aston's assessment of Japanese literature ("ingenious and inventive, but hardly capable of high intellectual achievement" [1899] 1977, p. 4) could perhaps be compared to the views of Christian missionaries and other early mediators of non-Western traditions, while the position of Reiss is similar to the position of those contemporary Western scholars who would like to reserve the right to define philosophy as narrowly as possible. In my comment earlier in this issue I tried to argue that neither of these positions, nor their derivates, is really satisfactory in the contemporary intellectual environment.In her thorough response, Carine Defoort has clarified most issues that provoked me in her initial article on this topic, particularly in emphasizing that her "family model" of philosophy is meant to be descriptive and not prescriptive. Nevertheless, I do find it a bit too pessimistic even as a description of the present situation, and I am also inclined to disagree with her certainty that "a world philosophy has not arisen and is not on the rise." Of course, a lot remains to be done in this area, but there is a clear tendency to the contrary, although this is perhaps due more to the contribution of Japanese rather than Chinese thinkers. A brief internet search reveals a considerable number of scholars who occupy professorial positions in philosophy (not Asian studies) departments at various universities around the world who list, for example, the Kyoto school philosophers or Dōgen in their research interests. Defoort as well does not have too high hopes of the Chinese tradition entering the field on a [End Page 661] more permanent setting because of the complexity of the language; on the other hand, not so many Western philosophers are proficient in Greek, either, but this is not perceived to be a major obstacle in their work. Moreover, although articles and books on Japanese thinkers sometimes appear that are on the naive side, relying on translations as they do, this situation does not necessarily have to stay the way it is.Nevertheless, Defoort is most certainly right in that the opposite number of philosophy departments, where Asian traditions are not considered to be proper philosophy, is, for the time being, much bigger. And some of them are in the most respectable institutions. However, when thinkers such as Jacques Derrida deny the status of philosophy to Chinese thought, one should remember that in many of these respectable institutions the label of "philosophy" is denied to the work of Derrida himself as well. If we refer to taijiquan not as taijiquan, period, but as "shadow-boxing," we have already granted... (shrink)

Un nouveau mode de rapport au monde est ne en Grece ancienne: l'attitude critique, laquelle a marque durablement l'histoire occidentale pour ensuite s'imposer de plus en plus a l'echelle mondiale. Des ce moment beaucoup s'est joue, car l'independance de la pensee, le rapport questionnant au monde, le pur interet pour le connaitre, la tradition de la discussion critique et du franc-parler individuel - c'est-a-dire la tradition du rapport critique a la tradition - allaient non seulement penetrer a l'interieur meme des (...) doctrines juive, chretienne et musulmane pour en inflechir le cours, mais gagner a l'epoque moderne puis contemporaine leur espace propre dans la Cite. Inventeurs de la democratie et de la philosophie, les Grecs ont donne naissance a cet ethos-critique dont le mode d'etre, le pli culturel si l'on veut, n'allait plus nous quitter. En depit des detours et de tous les meandres, les Lumieres du XVIIIe, de meme qu'auparavant la Renaissance, se comprennent donc comme les fruits lointains des Lumieres antiques. Dit autrement, il n'y a rien d'absolument inedit dans la critique generale des croyances et l'atheisme moderne lui-meme, dans la recherche d'un fondement anthropologique a la Cite et a ses lois, dans la decouverte de la relativite des connaissances mais aussi des valeurs d'une culture a l'autre, dans l'exercice de la libre pensee, dans le questionnement radical porte sur la nature du lien politique et les meilleurs moyens d'assurer le bien-vivre-ensemble mais quelque chose comme le prolongement et l'elargissement dans l'espace moderne, de ce dont l'Athenes democratique a fourni le premier germe et la premiere impulsion. A relire les Grecs, generation apres generation, tous a des degres divers, Romains, Juifs, Chretiens, Musulmans, etc., s'inoculerent et se transmirent les uns les autres ce germe critique qui, selon les differents sols et les differentes periodes historiques, epousa des formes variees. Le present essai propose donc une relecture du monde moderne fondee sur une reinterpretation de l'input antique grec, une analyse qui tient compte de la nouvelle humanite, critique et reflechie, decouverte en Grece, et qui prend donc ses distances vis-a-vis des approches proposees par des auteurs comme H. Blumenberg (la Modernite releve d'une auto-affirmation absolument originale, d'une curiosite theoretique sans precedent dans l'histoire), M. Gauchet (le desenchantement du monde est un phenomene essentiellement moderne, la democratie d'aujourd'hui tout autre chose que la democratie antique), et R. Brague (l'Occident tient davantage de la Rome christianisee et hellenisee que d'Athenes). A partir de l'examen de cas concrets, tels que l'idee de creativite artistique dans l'Antiquite, l'agnosticisme ou l'atheisme, la satire sociale tous azimuts d'un Lucien de Samosate, on peut constater que la culture contemporaine n'est pas essentiellement differente mais reprend bien plutot le fil d'interrogations et d'audaces anciennes. Le monde moderne a rompu avec certains aspects de sa tradition, mais il n'a pas rompu avec son passe, celui plus ancien, qu'il redecouvre de maniere plus libre aujourd'hui. Le but de l'ouvrage n'est d'ailleurs aucunement de sacraliser l'hellenisme, mais de montrer que le potentiel critique, inscrit dans la dynamique meme de cette culture, peut nous aider a mieux faconner la societe ouverte de demain. (shrink)

Does “The Colbert Report” promote democratic values in American political dialogue? If so, does it encourage substantive criticism of political orthodoxy? Or does it just encourage the politics of cynicism, like so many other cable news shows? We claim that Stephen Colbert's style of political satire promotes democratic values of free, open, and critical speech because it reflects an ethical commitment that evokes the earlier spirit of criticism embodied by the ancient Greek philosophical tradition of _parrhesia_, or "speaking the (...) truth" fearlessly in public. (shrink)

This book, as its title indicates, is put forth as a criticism of our age. The author, who is especially known for his work in the tradition of Husserl and Heidegger, and who has written a book on Aristotle, has often mentioned elements of his own philosophical position in his many essays and books; this volume presents the complete view, of which the others gave only hints. Boehm defines "our age" as determined by science, a science which stems from the (...) Greek understanding of knowledge and contains theological elements from antiquity and the middle ages. Knowledge is taken to be an attempt to overcome the limits of the human condition, and Boehm says that this attempt in turn is based on a desire to escape dying. He examines Hesiod, the Bible, and Lao-Tse to find extra-philosophical statements of the interpretation of death as something that somehow might not be. After these analyses of classical and non-philosophical versions of this theme, Boehm has a chapter to show how the issue is developed in various modern ways: Pascal evades the issue of death by escaping into divertissement, and modern political and economic life becomes a process or a game of its own, cut loose from the ends it was contrived to serve; Fichte and Marx are used here, and so are the satires of Parkinson and Boorstin’s analysis of "image" as replacing real need. Boehm emphasizes the reversal of means and ends in contemporary life and sees it as the consequence of the ancient attempt to replace the human condition by knowledge; an inhuman existence results from the desire to avoid being human. In a final chapter, Boehm studies Descartes, Spinoza, Locke, Kant, and others as thinkers who further develop the theme of man as "subject," in the sense of a being that subjects itself to necessity as its only way of surviving; this conception of subjectivity is a condition for the modern subjugation of human needs to the control of the "laws" of economics, production, science, bureaucracy, and the other manifestations of sheer rationality. Human needs are reduced to the needs of rationalistic order and thinking. In conclusion, Boehm observes that philosophy can only criticize the image of the age and its foundations; the return to being human must be accomplished by other means. Boehm’s book is very interesting and puts flesh and blood on many themes we have heard from Heidegger in more abstract form. The main weakness in the book is a failure to analyse virtue, phronesis, and action, which must be seen as a counterpoise even for the understanding of Aristotle’s notion of theory. His criticisms of rationalism, and of gnostic versions of religion which attempt to solve human problems purely by knowledge or by thinking, are accurate, although it is questionable whether he gives a satisfactory picture of Christianity and Judaism in the few passages he cites and interprets; for example, once again the dimension of performance in these religions is not included. Some of his historical remarks, like his interpretation of the events of the thirteenth century, are bold, and one is inclined to read them along with his own remarks on the writing of history. The short description of a conversation with a man of science is pointed and well done. The book is lively and vivid, especially in narrating the reversals of ends and means in our present world.—R.S. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 124.2 (2003) 303-306 [Access article in PDF] Jonathan M. Hall. Hellenicity: Between Ethnicity and Culture. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002. xxii + 312 pp. Cloth, $50. "To a wise man," wrote Philostratus in the third century C.E.in his Life of Apollonius of Tyana, "everything is Greece." For a properly educated person, there is a frame of Greek knowledge for looking at anything, and (...) there is nothing that is not to be viewed through that frame. (There are quite a few classicists who might agree...) In Philostratus' wonderful account, Apollonius was a marvel-working sage who did indeed travel throughout the known world, taking his Greek knowingness with him as a guide for all occasions and as a mastery of all situations. Although he learnt much from the mysterious wise men of the East, the Gymnosophists and the Brahmins, it should be no surprise that even these gurus quote Euripides as an authority. In the Roman Empire, Greek culture was at a premium (despite all the sniffy remarks of hard Roman traditionalists), but "being Greek," hellenizein, was a quality that at first sight has little to do with ethnicity. Apollonius, after all, is from Tyana. "Although from Gaul," boasted Favorinus of Gaul, "I became Greek." By this he means that through his rhetorical training, his language, and his whole style of being and thinking, he conforms to an ideal of "Greekness." The fact that he sets this claim parallel to two further outrageous self-descriptions—"although a eunuch, I was prosecuted for adultery, and although I argued with the Emperor, I lived to tell the tale"—shows that Favorinus is peddling cultural paradoxes rather than describing a norm. He's making a case for his own outstanding nature. But Lucian, too, describes how as a Syrian innocent he learnt rhetoric and philosophy (before deserting them for satire) and thus learnt to talk Greek, walk Greek, dress Greek, and beGreek. Greek sophistication, which comes from Greek paideia, is a value for the citizens of the whole Empire and can be fought over, denied, and aspired to like any other grand idea of social normativity. Plutarch is clear (in the Livesin particular) that the attainment of Greek culture—paideia—is an essential quality by which a man, even—especially—a Roman man, can be judged.For all that Greekness may thus appear to be a culturalvalue, nonetheless promoting a genealogy can still be a strategy of self-authorization and an assertion of true breeding. So we are told that the Jews tried to find an ancestral link with the Spartans (of all people). There is a letter of Apollonius of Tyana himself, transmitted with the manuscripts of Philostratus' Life of Apollonius, which reviles Greeks for wanting to take Roman names and thus deny their pedigree; and in the Lives of the Sophists, also by Philostratus, Herodes Atticus finds the most perfect Attic Greek spoken by a pastoral figure from the deepest interior of [End Page 303] Attica, because "the interior is untainted by barbarians and its language is healthy, its tongue rings pure Attic." It would seem that the best Greek is naturally and integrally tied to the Greek soil. Culture may be exportable, but there lingers the lure of the origin, the belief in a true bloodline, the homeland. In Greece, it alwaysmatters who your parents are and where you come from. Even when all can be Greek, some may be more Greek than others.The space between cultural value and the authority of ethnic descent is a prime matrix of social conflict—it is the arena from which the bloody history of nationalism arises and from which the daily crimes of racial prejudice, social exclusion, and self-congratulation are fed. "This is what it means to be Greek/American/Black/ White/Female..." shifts towards "You do not understand what it means to be...," to "You are not part of us who are...," to "This is what happens to people who are not...,' down the line towards violence and the battlelines of hierarchy and power. In... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:L’Homosexualité féminine dans l’Antiquité grecque et romaine by Sandra BoehringerKirk OrmandSandra Boehringer. L’Homosexualité féminine dans l’Antiquité grecque et romaine. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 2007. 405 pp. Paper, €35.00.Until recently, I held several informed assumptions about sexuality in the ancient world: (a) that without exception the ancient Greeks and Romans did not define categories of sexual activity by the sex of the object of desire (as in the modern (...) categories of hetero- and homosexual); (b) that female homoerotic activity occupied roughly the same space of social value in ancient Greece as in ancient Rome; (c) that in so far as it could be discerned, female homoerotic activity was depicted in Greece and Rome according to the male pederastic model; (d) that no significant discourse existed about a form of female homoeroticism that was outside of the asymmetric norm defined by such a model; (e) that in keeping with the male pederastic model, women who were sexually attracted to other women were figured as gender deviants, and particularly as being masculine; and (f) that such women were regularly figured as having monstrously large clitorises which were thought—fantastically—to mimic an erect phallus. Thanks to Sandra Boehringer’s incisive study, I now believe every one of these assumptions to be wrong.Boehringer does three things remarkably well in this book. She argues for the presence of an ancient Greek and Roman discourse about female-female sexual behavior. She demonstrates convincingly that there was an understanding of such behavior that was entirely outside of discussions of hermaphroditism and/or women with unusual masculine traits. And finally, she traces shifts and developments in attitudes toward this idea of female homoeroticism with acute attention to the historical contexts of her literary, visual, and scientific sources. Unlike some other critics who have wanted to see a notion of modern “lesbianism” in the ancient world, moreover, Boehringer develops her arguments within a careful Foucauldian framework. As she says late in the book, “une catégorie n’a de valeur que dans un système, et le système de valeurs des Anciens n’est pas le nôtre” (362). Unlike that of Hallett and Brooten, then, Boehringer’s female homoeroticism is not a transhistorical essence that has been curiously interpreted by the Greeks and Romans. Rather, Boehringer sees a separate category of sexual behavior about which the Greeks and Romans wrote, often obliquely, sometimes disparagingly but, surprisingly, only very rarely with a suggestion that such behavior presented a problem.After laying out her theoretical approach, Boehringer proceeds chronologically, beginning with Greek lyric poetry, including sections on early Greek myth, Attic pottery, Greek comedy, Greek philosophy (esp. Plato and Aristotle), Hellenistic poetry, Augustan poetry (esp. Ovid), Roman satire and invective (Petronius, Martial, Juvenal), a brief section on scientific and astrological writings, and ending with an epilogue on late imperial Greek literature (Lucian). I will focus here on some of the readings that provide the most important challenges to current scholarship on ancient sexual practice.Boehringer’s reading of Sappho, which draws on the work of Winkler and [End Page 163] Stehle, is important for later developments in the book. She is careful to distinguish the “I” of the poem (sometimes, as in poem 1, the multiple Sapphos within the narrative frame) from the figure of Sappho the author (54). She then goes on to demonstrate that, contrary to the arguments of scholars in the middle of the last century, the language that the narrator uses to describe her love affairs is the (usually euphemistic) language of physical pleasure typical of archaic Greek lyric (56–58). But what is particularly important about Sappho’s expressions of desire is that, “cet érôs n’est jamais décrit comme une différence stigmatisée par le monde extérieur et condamnée par la société.” Even more to the point, in a complex poem like 31 (φαίνεταί μοι), the speaker draws no distinction between the feeling of desire expressed by the speaker and the desire suggested to be felt by the young man in the poem who sits opposite the beloved.In fact, as Boehringer makes abundantly clear, no... (shrink)

The current use of animals to test for potential teratogenic effects of drugs and other chemicals dates back to the thalidomide disaster of the late 1950s and early 1960s. Controversy surrounds the following questions: 1. What was known about placental transfer of drugs when thalidomide was developed? 2. Was thalidomide tested on animals for teratogenicity prior to its release? 3. Would more animal testing have prevented the thalidomide disaster? 4. What lessons should be learned from the thalidomide disaster regarding animal (...) testing for teratogenicity? We review the literature in order to address these questions. (shrink)

Dear Editor,The April 2014 issue of Theoretical Medicine and Bioethics [1] presented eight essays regarding the use of nonhuman animals in biomedical research. While I appreciate the essays concerning contemporary research—which were well written and offered new thinking from the fields of ethics and ethology—I believe the journal, via the topics and the authors chosen, failed to communicate the most important fact regarding the current science pertinent to the use of nonhuman animals in research.The foundational reason for using chimpanzees and (...) other animals in research is their predictive value for human response to drugs and disease. This was alluded to by several of the authors when they discussed the necessity of using nonhuman animals. For example, Smith writes: “A common assumption in the selection of nonhuman animal subjects for research and the approval of research is that, if the risks of a procedure are too great for humans, and if there is a so-called scientific necessity, .. (shrink)

The requirement that animals be used in research and testing in order to protect humans was formalized in the Nuremberg Code and subsequent national and international laws, codes, and declarations. We review the history of these requirements and contrast what was known via science about animal models then with what is known now. We further analyze the predictive value of animal models when used as test subjects for human response to drugs and disease. We explore the use of animals for (...) models in toxicity testing as an example of the problem with using animal models. We conclude that the requirements for animal testing found in the Nuremberg Code were based on scientifically outdated principles, compromised by people with a vested interest in animal experimentation, serve no useful function, increase the cost of drug development, and prevent otherwise safe and efficacious drugs and therapies from being implemented. (shrink)

It is one of the central aims of the philosophy of science to elucidate the meanings of scientific terms and also to think critically about their application. The focus of this essay is the scientific term predict and whether there is credible evidence that animal models, especially in toxicology and pathophysiology, can be used to predict human outcomes. Whether animals can be used to predict human response to drugs and other chemicals is apparently a contentious issue. However, when one empirically (...) analyzes animal models using scientific tools they fall far short of being able to predict human responses. This is not surprising considering what we have learned from fields such evolutionary and developmental biology, gene regulation and expression, epigenetics, complexity theory, and comparative genomics. (shrink)

Animals can be used in many ways in science and scientific research. Given that society values sentient animals and that basic research is not goal oriented, the question is raised.