To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
I consider whether particular translators are situated inside or outside the hegemonic culture of their society. Salient factors include religious affiliation, level of education, class and gender. I offer in-depth analysis of the first translations of the Aeneid into English, down to Dryden, and then two cases from continental Europe, one in French, one in German, where the religious affiliations of translators affect the fate of their translations. Two cases of translations of the Georgics written on the margins of empire (in Tunisia and Singapore) challenge notions of centre and periphery. In the final section, I address the question of gender, noting that there have been remarkably few female translators of Virgil: I consider two sixteenth-century French translators and two early nineteenth-century translators of the Aeneid. Then I turn to modern translations of the Georgics, where women are unusually well represented but often marginalized. I conclude the chapter with discussion of the only female translator of the Eclogues I have identified.
Here I consider ways in which Virgil’s text is supplemented by translators. These supplements can take the form of translating additional material and of adding paratextual, explanatory material. Notable supplements considered include the spurious incipit of the Aeneid, the poems of the Appendix Vergiliana and the Latin supplement to the Aeneid written by Maffeo Vegio in 1428 which provides a happy conclusion to the poem. The paratextual material I consider consists of translator’s prefaces, notes and comments, along with issues raised by the cover, the title page, the dedication and endorsements, the mise-en-page, headings and illustrations, whereby the translator and/or printer attempts to frame and direct the reader’s experience. The presence or absence of the Latin text en face and the kind of annotation supplied raise the question of the intended uses of the translations. The chapter closes with a study of Douglas’ assertion of authorial presence through his paratexts.
I explore the question of equivalences or identifications between Virgil’s characters and events and the translators’ own times. In Part 1, I consider how translators invite readers to make identifications between present-day monarchs and Virgilian figures such as Aeneas and Dido, then how some translators appear to identify with aspects of Aeneas and Meliboeus. In Part 2, I address the phenomenon whereby particular translators and cultures respond to Virgil as if he were addressing them specifically and personally, with examples drawn from Polish and Irish literature. In Part 3, I discuss poet-translators’ self-identification with Virgil himself and the implication that they are writing for their equivalent of Augustus. Finally, I move to the phenomenon of ‘transcreation’ or metempsychosis, whereby the poet-translator claims to channel Virgil, and I conclude with translators’ claims to make Virgil speak their own vernacular, taking Dryden as my case study.
This introductory chapter includes analysis of the earliest versions of Virgil: in eleventh-century Ireland, in the Roman d’Enéas and in Middle High German. It explains how I chose to organize discussion of the translation history of Virgil in the Western tradition. I explain the chronological, geographical and linguistic scope of the book and discuss the relevance of translation theory and reception theory to the project. I account for the organization of the book by considering what it might have been (and is not) as well as what it is; I include summaries of the ten following chapters along with indications of the major and minor translations tackled in each. Because the book is composed of numerous case studies, I close by facing the hermeneutic challenge of how to rise above the case study and by indicating the interpretative gains of this study and ways in which it opens up further avenues for exploration by other scholars.
Euripides is one of Clement of Alexandria’s most frequently cited sources, and his enthusiastic borrowings have received fresh attention in recent years. This interest has proceeded under the assumption that Clement’s theatrical engagement was primarily limited to the reading of dramatic texts instead of through performance. This article argues that a careful examination of Clement’s Euripidean material in fact reflects the broader performance landscape of the ancient city in which this Christian author lived and wrote. Taken against the backdrop of contemporary Alexandrian performance, this reveals a fresh complexity to Clement’s use of Euripides, and uncovers an author actively participating in and shaped by the cultural activities of this Graeco-Roman city.
This article responds to Laura A. Marshall’s argument that Socrates does not compare himself to a gadfly in Plato’s Apology but rather to a spur on the side of a horse directed by Apollo. In revisiting the evidence for the canonical reading, this article argues that ‘gadfly’ or some other irritant insect is the only plausible translation for μύωψ in the Apology. Scrutinizing the source of the contemporary notion of the Western philosopher is pressingly important—not only for its own sake, but because the ‘spur reading’ has made its way into public circles and even the Cambridge Greek Lexicon.
This article demonstrates that Ovid placed an incomplete reverse acrostic at Rem. am. 681–5 reading desin-. I will argue that it is intentional, noting that it fits the context in which it appears. Additionally, I will discuss how Ovid is drawing the reader’s attention to his engagement with the poetry of Catullus by referencing another possible acrostic in Catullus 36, as well as by playing with themes (and acrostics) from Catullus 8.
The Augustan poet Ovid exerted significant influence over the Middle Ages, and his exile captured the later medieval imagination. Medieval Responses to Ovid's Exile examines a variety of creative scholastic and literary responses to Ovid's exile across medieval culture. It ranges across the medieval schoolroom, where new forms shape Ovidian exile anew, literary pilgrimages, medieval fantasies of dismemberment and visits to Ovid's tomb. These responses capture Ovid's metamorphosis into a poet for the Christian age, while elsewhere medieval poets such as John Gower and Geoffrey Chaucer demonstrate how to inhabit an Ovidian exilic voice. Medieval audiences fundamentally understood the foundations laid by the exilic Ovid, and so from antiquity and from exile Ovid shaped his own reception. The extent, enthusiasm and engagement of medieval responses to Ovid's exile are to such a degree that they must be considered when we read Ovid's exilic works, or indeed any of his poetry.
This article discusses the horse imagery related to the winds in the storm episode at the beginning of Virgil’s Aeneid. A close analysis of Aen. 1.50–86 brings to light the pervasiveness of this imagery, only partly noticed by scholars, who have regarded it as metaphorical (§1). It is here suggested that the winds released by Aeolus could instead be considered as real horses. A reassessment of the ancient literary—and, briefly, iconographic—evidence of the depiction of the winds as horses, horsemen or charioteers is proposed; Virgil fits into a long-standing tradition of Homeric ancestry, which represents the winds as horses (§2). This allows a better understanding of the narrative dynamic which in Aeneid Book 1 opposes Aeolus to Neptune, the god of the sea as well as of the horses; moreover, the equestrian (and circus) imagery evoked by Virgil contributes to the political and cosmic significance of the tempest episode (§3).
This article examines a report in Dio of a vow made by Augustus in response to a prophecy. It establishes the setting as a festival for the Magna Mater rather than ludi magni, as has recently been suggested. Based on calendar entries and a passage from Ovid, the article then associates the content of the vow with altars of Ceres and Ops established in 7 c.e.
This article examines Diomedes’ speeches in the Iliad and provides a new reading of the Homeric formula ὀψὲ δὲ δὴ μɛτέɛιπɛ. Scholars have used this formula to support the claim that Diomedes is an inexperienced speaker. However, a closer reading of this formula reveals that Diomedes makes delayed responses in observance of the etiquette of Homeric deliberative speech which dictates that younger and lower-ranking chieftains wait their turn to speak. The article argues that the speech type must also match the speaker’s status. Junior statesmen can only respond to proposals, while elder statesmen can call assemblies, set the agenda and give unilateral commands to the host.
Virgil remains one of the most important poets in the history of literature. This emerges in the rich translation history of his poems. Hardly a European language exists into which at least one of his poems has not been translated, from Basque to Ukrainian and Dutch to Turkish. Susanna Braund's book is the first synthesis and analysis of this history. It asks when, where, why, by whom, for whom and how Virgil's poems were translated into a range of languages. Chronologically it spans the eleventh- and twelfth-century adaptations of the Aeneid down to present-day translation activity, in which women are better represented than in earlier eras. The book makes a major contribution to western intellectual history. It challenges classicists and other literary scholars to reassess the features of Virgil's poems to which the translators respond and offers a treasure-trove of insights to translation theorists and classicists alike.