In Antiphon’s speech “Prosecution of the Stepmother for Poisoning”, one of emphasized motives is the opposition between, on the one hand, the author of the criminal plan and organizer of the murder, and on the other hand, the immediate executor. The accuser claims that his stepmother plotted to kill her husband and deceived a female slave into adding poison to his wine. The slave was executed as the murderer, but the accuser seeks to prove that the true guilt lies with the stepmother, as she conceived the crime. The manuscript text (20) reads a participle χειρουργήσασα, ‘the one who enacted’, attributed to the stepmother. Friedrich Blass, in his 1871 edition, transposed the words καὶ χειρουργήσασα, referring them to the slave who poured the poison into the wine, believing, as she was told by the accused, that it was a love potion. By doing this, Blass emphasized the distinction between the plan and its execution. Almost all editors accepted this rearrangement. At the same time, some scholars prefer the manuscript reading. Reiske, supported by Maetzner, suggested a literal understanding of the participle, ‘the one who prepared the poison’. Wilamowitz considered χειρουργήσασα a rhetorical exaggeration. Adelmo Barigazzi and Ernst Heitsch understood the participle attributed to the stepmother in the manuscripts as a way to shift the entire responsibility for the murder — both the criminal idea and its execution — onto the stepmother. Here I present arguments in favor of the manuscript reading and variants of interpreting its meaning
Выход в свет первого тома сочинений А. С. Пушкина в 1899 г. побудил филолога-классика Виктора Карловича Ернштедта перечитать его лицейскую лирику, насквозь пронизанную античными мотивами. В философической оде Пушкина «Усы», написанной в 1816 г., он обратил внимание на строчку «где драмы тощие Клеона?» и посвятил ей небольшую заметку, которая впервые публикуется и комментируется. В ней В. К. Ернштедт высказал остроумную догадку о том, что Пушкин имел в виду малоизвестного древнего драматурга Клеофонта, но по ошибке написал имя известного политика Клеона. В. К. Ернштедт задается вопросом, из какого источника поэт мог знать о Клеофонте. Сведения о «Поэтике» Аристотеля, где встречается имя Клеофонта, лицеисты могли почерпнуть из первого тома труда Ж. Ф. Лагарпа «Лицей, или Курс древней и новой литературы» — настольной книги в преподавании литературы в Царскосельском Лицее. Однако имя Клеофонта здесь не встречается, нет его и в дидактическом сочинении Н. Буало-Депрео «Поэтическое искусство», доступном лицеистам на языке оригинала и в русском переводе. Филолог-классик переоценил культурный багаж поэта-лицеиста, обширность и глубину лицейского образования. Много позже пушкинисты установили, что под именем Клеона скрывался современник А. С. Пушкина — посредственный поэт А. А. Шаховской. В. К. Ернштедт подошел к тексту Пушкина с позиций филологаклассика, недооценив культурный контекст эпохи. Но его ошибка сама по себе весьма примечательна, а поставленные им вопросы говорят о его намерении продолжить исследование и показывают направление будущих поисков
В статье представлен текстологический и компаративный комментарий к встречающимся в романе Д. С. Мережковского «Смерть богов. Юлиан Отступник» цитатам из эпических поэм Гомера: к Il. 5, 83 (дана на греческом языке с русским переводом) и к Od. 14, 57–58 (только в русском переводе). Анализ черновиков русского писателя позволяет установить, что эти стихи и их переводы были заимствованы через текстыпосредники. Результаты сопоставления содержащих гомеровские строки мест (в романе, исторических источниках, а также в произведениях Й. фон Эйхендорфа, Г. Ибсена, Ф. Дана, Г. Видала, привлеченных в качестве дополнительного материла для сравнения) и анализа их роли в архитектонике первой части трилогии «Христос и Антихрист» демонстрируют, как Мережковский, изменяя форму и значение употребленных цитат, включает их в художественную структуру своего произведения. Гекзаметр Il. 5, 83 обретает смысл мистической словесной формулы и становится центральным элементом фрактальной по своему типу (многократно воспроизводящей три фазы инициации) сюжетной системы, которая передает становление Юлиана как императора-отступника. Стилистический акцент этого стиха может быть определен как один из источников образности произведения Мережковского: русские варианты, соответствующие греческому πορφύρεος, и семантически связанные с ними лексемы употреблены здесь подобно тому, как это прилагательное использовано в «Илиаде», и проявляются в ключевых эпизодах. Стихи Od. 14, 57–58, концентрирующие общие для греко-римского язычества и христианства ценностные темы, также обретают дополнительное значение, поддерживая разрабатываемую с первых глав линию сопоставления Юлиана со стремящимся на родину Одиссеем
In Roman literature the negative image of a stepmother exists at least from the Late Republican times onwards. The Roman authors underline the cruelty of stepmothers and their mistreatment of stepchildren. Sometimes the amorous stepmother wants to seduce her adult stepson and, after the latter repudiates her love, begins to victimize him. In Latin declamations the noverca is often presented as a venefica who, motivated mainly by quarrels over inheritance, aims to poison her stepson (or sometimes husband; in this case she tries then to shift the blame onto the stepson). Cicero, when in 66 B. C. he defended in the court a Roman knight A. Cluentius Habitus, exploits these negative stereotypes extensively. One of the main characters in his speech Pro Cluentio is the mother of his client, Sassia, who, according to Cicero, is the true soul of the accusation against Cluentius. Cicero presents Sassia not as a mother, but as a saeva noverca who hates her own son and wants to destroy him. The skilful use of these (and some other) stereotypes, which were undoubtedly shared by a large part of Cicero’s audience, as well as corresponding literary topoi probably contributed significantly to the success of Cicero’s defence.
A comparative analysis of the chapter titles and text of the first book of the late antique military treatise Strategikon allows to put forward the hypothesis that its text was constituted in several stages. Of particular importance here are the wording of the titles and the peculiar beginnings or introductions to most of the chapters, which summarise the content of the preceding sections. A comparison of the passages clearly shows the sequence of formation within each chapter. We should assume at least 5 consecutive phases of text development: author and 4 editors. At first (phase 1a–1b), on the basis of the extant sources, the author of the book created as part of the treatise a text in four sections, organised by the beginnings according to the scheme of genetivus absolutus (primary chapters *1, *2 + 3, *4, *5 + 9). Then another editor (Leg, phase 2) inserted into this codex in the middle of the text *5 + 9 two bifolia with the text of military laws organised by μετὰ-constructions (*6 + 7, *8), resulting in the actual division of the text *5 + 9 into two sections *5 and 9. The next editor (phases 3a–3b) then rewrote the entire text into a new codex, providing it with headings (following the πῶς… scheme), what consolidated the division of the text into seven chapters (1, 2 + 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 + 8, 9), but he could not, however, fully understand the system of incipits of the original text. The new editor (Optim) made a series of additions in the form of glosses and inserted leaves (phase 4). The main development of the text was completed in the next phase (5a–5b–5c), when two new headings (3 and 8), structured in a different scheme (περὶ…), an introduction to chapter 8, and a general table of contents for Book 1 were inserted into this codex. The text was then rewritten into a new, third codex, which fixed the position of interpolations in the text.
The Portrait of a Young Man, or Self-Portrait, by Michael Sweerts, remains poorly studied, although this is one of the two known works, dated by the master himself, and dated 1656, a pivotal year in his biography. Beside the date the sheet pinned to the green tablecloth displays the signature and the moralizing motto: Ratio Quique [sic!] Reddenda. Titled as “The Bankrupt” the painting appeared in the collection of I. I. Shuvalov and with this apparently false title went first to the St Petersburg Academy of Arts, then to the Hermitage. The reading of it as belonging to the vanitas genre also leads away from the point. That the Young Man is not a frivolous embezzler, but a calculating businessman follows from parallels in Flemish and Dutch art. Neither is he a “melancholic”, however similar his posture may be to many of them. The key to Sweerts’ message is the Latin pinacogram, of which each word is capitalized and one is spelled in a somewhat extravagant manner (dat. quique). Rationem reddere evokes associations with the Gospel debt parables. Flemish painters had turned to this subject already in the early 16th century; Van Hemessen’s depiction of the Unforgiving Slave is likely to be one of Sweerts’ direct sources. The parallelism of earthly and heavenly “banking” is emphasized in Th. Halle’s engraving Redde rationem being part of Veridicus Christianus by J. David. The engraving and the portrait have a number of details in common, and the relative comment abounds in references to the debt parables. The Young Banker of the Hermitage portrait puts aside his counting and muses that the same debit-credit law operates in the other world, and that the list of debtors includes every one of us: to get that message across was so important to the fanatically catholic Sweerts that he styled the Latin inscription as the title of this list
This article opens a series devoted to investigating the sources of the ample zoological excursus (vv. 916–1223) in the Hexaemeron by George of Pisidia, a 7th-century Byzantine poet. Since the two attempts to find a general formula for George of Pisidia’s treatment of his models have led to directly opposite results (according to Max Wellmann, the poet distanced himself from pagan zoologists; according to Luigi Tartaglia, on the contrary, he drew material from them, favouring Aelian), it seems that the question of the poem’s sources should be addressed by a step-by-step examination of passages, paying attention to such evidence as the coincidence of minor details or words. In v. 1116 the unusual metaphor “aithyia, bending its winged cloud” (in the sense of “spreading its wings”) makes one think of an (unconscious?) association with Arat. Phaen. 918–920, where “a stretching cloud” is mentioned in the catalogue of storm’s signs in immediate juxtaposition to the flapping of the wings of seabirds. In vv. 1117–1124 (the self-cleansing of the ibis) the reference to Galen is not a mere metonymy (= “the most skillful physician”), as interpreters have hitherto thought, but points to the poet’s source: in the Galenic corpus this story is attested three times, and the passage closest to George of Pisidia’s account is [Galen.] Introd. 1.2. In vv. 1154–1159 (the structure of the web) the confused sequence of the stages of the spider’s work (first concentric circles, then radial threads), that contradicts both reality and (which is more important) the ancient tradition going back to Book IX of Historia animalium, seems to betray the influence of John Philoponus (De opif. mundi, p. 257, 24 sqq. Reinhardt). In Philoponus’ text this sequence is justified by the fact that his rhetorical passage describes, strictly speaking, not the web itself, but a drawing of it made by a “diligent geometer”.
The letter of recommendation was known in Antiquity as a separate genre of letter writing for which a certain set of compositional techniques and formulae were developed. In Byzantium, too, the letter of recommendation was in great demand: letters in which the author presents his protégé to the addressee and, as a rule, asks him to perform something for him are not difficult to find in the epistolary collections of many authors from the 4th to the 15 th century. Meanwhile, while the ancient letter of recommendation is well studied, the etiquette of this genre in the Byzantine tradition has hardly been investigated yet. The purpose of this piece is to characterize the etiquette norms of Greek letter of recommendation in the early Byzantine period (4th — early 7th centuries). The subject of the study are, first of all, literarische Privatbriefe, belonging to Libanius, Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, John Chrysostom, Synesius of Cyrene, Theodoret of Cyrrhus, Procopius of Gaza and others, but also private papyrus letters. Their analysis leads to the conclusion that there is a wide variability of the canons of the letter of recommendation, the absence of any rigid scheme that presupposes a clear sequence of structural elements. At the same time, it reveals six recurrent etiquette motifs, all of which are subordinated to a single goal — to persuade the addressee to patronize the recommended person. These motifs are analyzed in detail, and stable formulas are indicated for some of them. An attempt is made to determine to what extent the canons of Greek letters of recommendation of the 4 th–7th centuries go back to the ancient tradition. The letters of recommendation of Cicero and Pliny the Younger, as well as letters preserved on late antique papyri, are used as material for comparative analysis
Albrecht von Eyb (1420–1475) — was a canon, lawyer, and writer, one of the first northern humanists of the 15 th century. Eyb went down in the history of German literature primarily as the author of a treatise on marriage (Ehebüchlein, 1472) and as the first translator of Plautus’ comedies (part of Spiegel der Sitten, 1474). These significant works were preceded by the first humanist textbook of rhetoric written in Germany (Margarita poetica, 1459), which was the result of a 15-year stay in Italy and acquaintance with the humanist culture of the time. This article studies a cycle of Latin works (1451), Eyb’s first attempt at writing, which were later partially included in his Margarita. The four Latin opuscula, which I call here the ‘Bamberg Cycle’, were composed during Eyb’s one-year visit in Bamberg, when he was forced to interrupt his studies for a while to secure an income from his prebenda. The works of the cycle are united by the young author’s ambition to imitate humanist literature of his time, from which he borrows not only themes but also form. While it remains impossible to identify the precise audience for these works, or the reason that prompted Eyb to write them, a closer look at these works-exercises, which remain in the shadow of the author’s more successful works, allows us to trace the ways in which the ancient and humanist heritage was received and adapted. Thus, the works of the ‘cycle’ become important material not only for the study of Albrecht von Eyb’s writings, but also for the formation of humanist identity in mid-15 th-century Germany, at a time when the institutionalisation of the movement and its further flourishing were only just emerging
The aim of this article is to analyse the theme of envy and its complexity in Josephus’ works in rhetorical and strategic sense rather than just as a literary topos. The paper focuses on two cases motivated by envy: Korah’s rebellion against Moses and the conflict between Josephus and John of Gischala. In these two cases, both the characteristics of envious persons and the richest descriptions of their sinister activities appear. The idea of Korah’s envy was not based on the Bible or the Second Temple literature or traditions but on Josephus’ own experiences from the period of his short-term command in Galilee (December 66 — July 67) when he was in conflict with envious John of Gischala. Thanks to this procedure, he was able to create the self-apologetic impression that his fate and that of Moses were intertwined because they had opponents with similar characteristics who were motivated by the same vice. Moreover, Josephus in both narratives follows the specific sequence according to which the envy leads to a “plot” (ἐπιβουλή), then to “false accusations” (διαβολή) and finally to a “sedition” (στάσις). He strategically used the theme of envy for his own apology to condemn his enemy, John of Gischala. The envy he felt disclosed the character of a person who was worse than Josephus in terms of personality traits. Josephus instead appears before the readers as a stoic sage who is free from weakness such as envy. At the same time the author draws attention to his own well-deserved success, thus the presence of envy becomes an indicator of his achievements. He conceals his own negative actions during his command in Galilee and tries to direct the audience’s attention to a specific arrangement of events that will lead to blaming his opponent. Keywords: Josephus, Korah, Moses, John of Gischala, conceptions of envy
A citharodic performance typically included a προοίμιον that preceded a νόμος. Theoretically, there are three possible options: a prooimion (1) was an inseparable introduction to a specific main part; (2) was not performed independently, but could precede various main parts; (3) was an independent piece. Most evidence points to option 2. Standard circumstances of performance must have stereotyped the subject matter that appeared in the introduction, so the proem became an autonomous song that could precede any narrative part, and even be performed independently (if there were no agonistic connotations and transitional formulas). Pseudo-Plutarch’s notions of ancient citharody (De mus. 1132В–С; 1132D; 1133B–C) are interpreted as follows: a proem addressed to the gods was a citharode’s own composition (hence ὡς βούλονται, despite its formal character and epic metre). It was immediately followed by a nome, whose epic narration could be either original or taken from Homer and other poets and set to music according to one of melodic patterns systemized by Terpander. Terpander’s proems likely offered two proofs of this theory: they ended with a formula of transition to another song, which itself did not follow. Apparently, the option to use someone else’s poetry in the main body led to the practice of writing down the proems without the subsequent nomes, so that they were seen as independent works. It is likely that Pseudo-Plutarch’s source was referring to minor Homeric hymns, since they correspond perfectly with the information that we have about citharodic proems
This review focuses on the new book by the renowned German scholar Heinz-Günter Nesselrath on Lucian of Samosata, an author whom Nesselrath has been studying for over 40 years. The review gives a brief overview of the preface, the nine chapters and the afterword. Among the undoubted merits of this book is that Nesselrath has succeeded in presenting his view and his understanding of Lucian’s rich legacy, which have developed over many years of working with the texts. This is what distinguishes Nesselrath’s book from the companions popular nowadays, where a plurality of opinions and approaches of the authors of the articles naturally arises. On the one hand, the author perfectly shows that the genre and content diversity of the works, the heterogeneity of literary masks are quite amenable to comprehensive consideration. There is no reason to speak of “the comedy of nihilism” or “the palimpsestic evanescence of author’s voice” (T. Whitmarsh). Through Nesselrath’s book, a distinct, consistent portrait of Lucian as a writer is created. On the other hand, this book once again confirms the unfounded and biased judgements of J. Bernays, R. Helm, who regarded Lucian as a mere epigone and a mediocre writer. The book’s shortcomings may include the fact that the author speaks of the division of rhetoric and philosophy and notes that there is another opinion, but does not elaborate on it. Equally neglected is the manuscript tradition of Lucian. Nonetheless, the unified concept, the well-thought-out structure, the lively and lucid presentation of the material allow us to say that this book is the long-awaited basic study that has been sorely lacking for Lucian