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Scholars have long noticed a similarity of motifs between Catullus’ Carmen 63 and the fifth book of the Odyssey, where the story of Odysseus’ captivity on Ogygia is narrated. A detailed analysis of the poems shows that Catullus wanted the reader to see in this Homeric episode a kind of matrix for the interpretation of Attis’ sojourn at Cybele. The discovery of this dependence casts a light on some of the hitherto proposed interpretations of Carmen 63.
This article argues for an emendation in Aristotle's Metaphysics A 10, 993a13–15. The emendation is based on a hitherto overlooked reading preserved in Alexander of Aphrodisias’ commentary on A 7. First, the article problematizes the reading of the Metaphysics manuscripts in terms of syntax, diction and content. Second, it shows that Alexander's reading is free of all three problems. Third, it argues for the originality of Alexander's reading according to the principle utrum in alterum abiturum erat? and based on the fact that the new reading reveals a subtle didactic link between A 7 and A 10 that sheds new light on the argumentative architecture of Metaphysics Book A.
In Quaestiones naturales 4b.4.2 Seneca states that in early spring the weather drastically changes: in the warmer sky larger water droplets are formed and cause rain. The description of this ‘greater change’ (maior inclinatio) is linked in the manuscript tradition to two different controversial readings, temporis and aeris, which are irregularly distributed. Most recent editors have printed the first reading, but H.M. Hine is probably right to accept aeris. A careful linguistic, stemmatic and stylistic examination shows that temporis is likely to be a Medieval Latin gloss of aeris: the equivalence of both words would be difficult to justify in Classical Latin, but in Late Latin and in Medieval Latin tempus developed a climatological meaning which is explicitly found in medieval writers and glossaries and is also very widespread in Romance languages. The presence of this gloss in the hyparchetype Ψ, which is ultimately the source for most medieval copies, accounts for the irregular distribution of both readings in the manuscript tradition; this hypothesis is particularly consistent with Hine's suggestion that Ψ probably had interlinear or marginal readings. This historical investigation on the meaning of tempus is also relevant to the end of the same passage, where stylistic and linguistic evidence supports the reading tepore rather than tempore.
In Aristophanes’ Wasps, Philocleon says that he and his fellow jurors do not acquit Oeagrus until he has recited a speech from the Niobe. Scholars have almost universally assumed that this was the name of a contemporary tragic actor, despite its extreme rarity. This article argues that the reference is rather to the father of Orpheus. As a figure from the generation before the archetypal bard, ‘an Oeagrus’ represents the old-fashioned poetry to which Philocleon and his fellow jurors are devoted.
This article sheds new light on Themistius’ argument in what is philosophically the most original (and historically the most influential) section of his extant work, namely On Aristotle's On the Soul 100.16–109.3: here, Themistius offers a systematic interpretation of Aristotle's ‘agent’ intellect and its ‘potential’ and ‘passive’ counterparts. A solution to two textual difficulties at 101.36–102.2 is proposed, supported by the Arabic translation. This allows us to see that Themistius engages at length with a Platonizing reading of the enigmatic final lines of De anima III.5, where Aristotle explains ‘why we do not remember’ (without specifying when and what). This Platonizing reading (probably inspired by Aristotle's early dialogue Eudemus) can be safely identified with the one developed in a fragmentary text extant only in Arabic under the title Porphyry's treatise On the soul. While Themistius rejects this reading, he turns out to be heavily influenced by the author's interpretation of the ‘agent’, ‘potential’ and ‘passive’ intellect. These findings offer us a new glimpse into Themistius’ philosophical programme: he is searching for an alternative to both the austere (and, by Themistius’ lights, distorted) Aristotelianism of Alexander of Aphrodisias and the all too Platonizing reading of Aristotle adopted by thinkers such as Porphyry.
This article looks at the rise of Venice and the expansion of its economic, political and military power in the Adriatic from the early ninth until the fourteenth centuries. It assesses how local, interconnecting commercial networks transformed into more elaborate, intensive and long-distance connections that came about as a result of wider patterns of change not only in the Adriatic, but in the Mediterranean, Europe and beyond during this period. The article examines the relationship between Venice and the coastal towns of Dalmatia and Italy and charts how patterns of co-operation and mutual interest gave way to domination through a deliberate and coherent series of policies adopted by Venice’s leaders. The participation of an increasing number of elements of Venetian society in the commercial and political success of the city played an important role in providing domestic stability on the one hand and in shaping a civic identity on the other, that was also to prove important during the time of the crusades where new markets and opportunities opened up for the city. Financial structures that allowed for – and even prompted – inclusivity played a key role too in eliding the interests of the elites with those of Venice’s citizens.
The article explores the role of the Adriatic seaborne exchange in the crucial seventh and eighth centuries. Against the backdrop of the historical narrative, which saw the year 700 as the low point of Adriatic exchange, the author proposes an alternative picture, mostly relying on the recent excavation in Comacchio, together with a reassessment of literary evidence. The article suggests that 700 represented an adjustment in the relations between the Byzantine fringes of the Adriatic and the imperial centre rather than a rupture in seaborne communication. Although relying on imperial identities and conceptions of authority, local aristocracies became growingly independent and increasingly defiant toward the authority of Constantinople. In the eight century, episodes such as the 727 rebellions or the 751 conquest of Ravenna, progressively worsened the relationship between the Adriatic towns and Constantinople until the final break. This was the premise to the rise of Venice and the other Adriatic towns.
In recent years research on the early medieval north-eastern Italy has made important advances in the study of archaeological finds from the entire Adriatic area but also in the field of critical analysis of the early Venetian duchy’s relations with the Lombard (and later Italian) kingdom and Byzantine Italy. This study focuses on the second subject, starting from the arrival of the Lombards in 569, which established the conditions for the birth of Venice. From the sixth to the ninth century, Venice was a Byzantine duchy embedded in a dense network of political, social and economic relations which extended across the whole northern Adriatic. The formation of Venetian society and the city itself, its institutions and political identity were profoundly influenced by social and institutional developments on the Italian mainland. Simultaneously Byzantine, Adriatic and Italian in character, Venice developed in delicate equilibrium with all these different social components.
Venice, and then the Adriatic, was the main route to Byzantium for the whole Medieval period, for anyone coming to the former eastern Roman empire from or through northern Italy. The geographical position of the sea makes that inevitable. The west–east sea route via Sicily worked for some Europeans, but only on a large scale after the Normans conquered the island from the Arabs in the late eleventh century and even then less prominently than the Adriatic did; the land route through Hungary, which had a border with Byzantium in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, suited some armies, but it was never an easy passage; and the Danube was underused as a route for a long time. So the Adriatic had a major role as a path to the Byzantine empire in every Medieval century, and this book amply shows what sorts of roles it took, in the sometimes dramatically changing economic and political environments of nine centuries.
Early medieval Zadar is the focus of this case study which explores the interaction between international and local factors which contributed to Zadar becoming a capital of a Byzantine province in the late eighth and the ninth century. The chapter examines the local impact of the renovation of Byzantine administration in that period and the relationship between this development and the local Church. Bishops of Zadar tried to use a favourable moment in such a political context to claim the title of archbishops. The study also looks at the interaction between Zadar and its hinterland, populated by Croats, and the new religious centres that served them. Zadar survived the collapse of post-Roman Dalmatia and this Late Antique civitas became an early medieval provincia loosely dependent on the imperial administrative system.
The earliest preserved painted icons in the Adriatic date from the thirteenth century.In fact, apart from Rome, the entire Latin West seems to have embraced icons simultaneously overnight as soon as they started coming in great numbers from Byzantium following the capture of Constantinople by the crusaders in 1204. This chapter argues that the Adriatic was particularly responsive to these painted icons because it had already embraced Byzantine relief icons in the eleventh century. The examination includes both the material and written evidence for the existence of icons in the eleventh-century Adriatic, such as the extant marble Hodegetria icon from Trani and the recorded commission of a gilt silver icon for Siponto Cathedral in 1069. When it comes to Dalmatia, this investigation looks into a donation document recording five icons, one of which was made of silver, in a church built and furnished by a Croatian dignitary in the 1040s. The analysis demonstrates that by the thirteenth century, the Adriatic was conditioned by relief icons to embrace easily portable painted icons reaching its shores after the fall of Constantinople and that this area as a whole experienced a strong prestige bias towards Byzantine artefacts.
This study discusses transformations of settlement in the northern Adriatic arch between Late Antiquity and Early Middle Ages. In particular, it takes into consideration the situation in Roman cities which were deserted and those where there was continuity of life. Above all, attention is focused on a phenomenon specific for this area: the newly founded cities. Among these, the author focuses on Venice and Equilo. These two settlements were founded in similar environmental contexts but their outcomes turned out to be very different. The history of these two settlements is discussed in a general framework – that of the Venetian lagoon – with the passage from a scattered settlement (Late Antiquity) to a series of centralised settlements (Early Middle Ages). By using an archaeological approach, this study highlights their subsequent development with regard to the competition between the local aristocracies.
The Venetians had a substantial stake in the local trade of the Byzantine empire and provided essential naval assistance. The chrysobull of 992 was a confirmation of existing privileges and practices. The same was true of the chrysobull traditionally dated to 1082, which Alexius I Komnenos granted to the Venetians. His son and successor John II refused to ratify the chrysobull while Manuel I Komnenos also sought to bring the Venetians to heel and adopted a bolder strategy. He challenged their control of the Adriatic and in 1171 interned Venetians resident in the empire and seized their property. The Venetians survived only because they had the Adriatic to fall back on. Venice derived its basic strengths from the resources of the northern Adriatic, which allowed them to equip formidable fleets which, in turn, helped them to dominate the Adriatic and to further their interests in the Aegean and Eastern Mediterranean. Despite the frictions, the Venetian patriciate understood that their interests were best served by effective Byzantine government, which guaranteed the security of the seas.