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This article argues for a metapoetic reading of the Talos episode in Apollonius of Rhodes, in which Medea symbolically annihilates Theocritus’ Polyphemus, the bucolic hero who had found a pharmakon to cure lovesickness. The distinctive phrases λεπτὸς ὑμήν ‘a thin membrane’ and σύριγξ αἱματόεσσα ‘a blood-filled vein’ are metapoetic signals: ‘a refined Callimachean marriage song’ and ‘bloody pan-pipes’, evoking Theocritus. The Cyclops’s peaceful response to romantic disappointment is well attested in other Hellenistic poems with medical overtones. The Talos episode engages these with other medical and Homeric allusions to contrast Medea’s outward destructive use of the Muses’ sciences with Polyphemus’ inward healing use.
This chapter takes on the metaphor of the ‘monument’and turns from anonymous romance texts to thosecomposed by named authors, in particular by GeoffreyChaucer. As a metaphor, the monument highlightscurated longevity as resistance to erasure.Monuments are crafted in the present to ensure thelong-term memory of a particular version of thepast. Thus, when he invokes Chaucer’s Squire’s Talein Book IV of his Faerie Queene, Edmund Spenserdefines Chaucer’s work as a ‘monument’, albeit onedefaced by time. The idea of the monument, then, isbound up with the idea of the ruin. Thus, Spenserpresents Chaucer as a monumental ruin, one uponwhich he can build for future audiences.Importantly, he does not seek to erase Chaucer, buthe highlights Chaucer’s incompleteness. This chaptercompares Spenser’s treatment of the Squire’s Talewith a less well-known seventeenth-century Squire’sTale composed by poet John Lane, who, like Spenser,uses the romance genre to build upon the ‘ruin’ ofthe past. Exploring both of these authors throughthe framework of the ‘monument’ reveals their variedapproaches to the place of the ‘father of Englishpoetry’ in literary history. Both authors useChaucer’s romance as a monumental foundation uponwhich they might define themselves, Spenser as akindred spirit, a poet, and Lane as an antiquarianscholar interested in restoring what time hasdefaced.
Modern translators and commentators have uniformly taken the phrase καὶ τιμωμένων ἀντετιμᾶτο in Max. Tyr. Or. 3.2 as a reference to Socrates’ reported proposal of a counter-penalty as depicted in the second speech of Plato’s Apology. This article suggests an alternative interpretation rooted in both the surrounding context of Or. 3 and an analysis of Greek forensic vocabulary and usage. The latter analysis also serves to cast doubt on the claim, common in discussions of Athenian law, that ἀντιτιμᾶσθαι served as the technical term for making a counter-penalty proposal.
This chapter centres on Edward Banister, an Elizabethanscribe and recusant Catholic who used printed booksas the exemplars for his early modern manuscripts ofMiddle English romance. Banister’s manuscripts,which include copies of Sir Degore, Sir Eglamour,Sir Isumbras, The Jest of Sir Gawain and Robert theDevil, have received little critical attention, andsince the identification of the scribe in 1978,questions about how Banister’s biography andCatholic identity relate to his romance manuscriptshave yet to be asked. This chapter, thus,interrogates the connections between the scribe’srecusant identity and his interest in the romancegenre and manuscript medium. The metaphor of the‘collage’ allows us to more fully comprehend theinterplay of time and technology, creation anddestruction in Banister’s history and manuscripts.We see technological collage in the ways Banistercombines the aesthetics of print and manuscript, andwe see cultural collage when we consider Banister’sposition as a practising Catholic in the midst of achanging religious world.
This chapter centres the metaphor of the ‘museum’ toexplore one of the most popular Middle Englishromances to persist across the Reformation divide:Guy of Warwick. It compares the presentation ofGuy’s artefacts in John Lydgate’s Guy of Warwickwith Samuel Rowlands’s 1609 Famous History of Guy,Earl of Warwick. Both Lydgate’s and Rowlands’s Guynarratives present textual representations ofartefacts associated with Guy’s romance. Objectslike Guy’s sword, the axe of the giant Colbrond andthe rib of the Dun Cow that Guy was supposed to havekilled in Coventry become central to the longevityof Guy’s romance and to some authors’ conceptions ofthe material pre-conquest past. While Lydgate’snarrative positions these objects as relics,signalling the triumphs of Christianity over time,Rowlands’s text ‘musealises’ the artefacts, makingthem portals to and preservers of the distant,tenth-century past. Guy’s objects, in Rowlands’stext, become tourist sites and museum pieces. Inboth Lydgate’s poem and Rowlands’s, though, theartefacts feed off of the narratives that describethem; books become virtual museums or virtualreliquaries. The chapter ends with a comparisonbetween Guy’s artefacts and those associated withthe legends of King Arthur, demonstrating thedifferent perspectives on the role of the romancepast in the world of the present.
Latin poetry is defined by its relationships with poetry in other languages. It was originally constituted by its relation to Greek, and in later times has been constituted by its relation to the European vernaculars. In this bold and innovative book, distinguished Latinist Stephen Hinds explores these relationships through a series of vignettes. These explore ancient conversations between Latin and Greek verse texts, followed by modern (especially early modern) conversations between Latin and European vernacular verse texts, reflecting the linked stories of reception that make up the so-called 'classical tradition': conversations across language, across period, and sometimes both at the same time. The book's range is expansive, ranging from Homer through Virgil and the Augustans to late antiquity, the Renaissance, Romanticism and on to Seamus Heaney. There is an especial focus on the parallel vernacular and Latin output of Milton and Marvell in England and Du Bellay in France.
Extra Help gives you the logic behind the noun endings, vastly reducing the number of endings you need to learn. Extra Material introduces some of the different jobs that the Greek genitive case can do.
In the Extra Help we invite you to think about ‘reading Greek with understanding’ rather than translating. In the Extra Material you will meet the major contexts in which the accusative case can appear.
In this chapter, we will examine the Old Testament’s role in religious communities as an authoritative revelation from God – the concept of “scripture” common to the three monotheistic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. These texts hardly began as the books that now comprise the Bible; rather, what we will discover is a lengthy, complex development of authoritative texts from oral to written to canon.
This chapter will take us inside the ancient world of the Old Testament’s formation. Words, considered powerful, were painstakingly preserved through centuries in the hands of anonymous authors and editors, scribes and scholars. Texts were collected into books and went through a process of use and standardization by the ancient Israelites, beginning as early as the tenth century bceand lasting through the Babylonian exile and beyond – emerging finally in the canonical form we know today as the Old Testament.
Three early Imperial reliefs with architectural façades, found in Rome’s Via Lata and referred to as the Valle-Medici reliefs, include representations of the temples of Mars Ultor and the Magna Mater. A third relief showing a tetrastyle Ionic temple is identified here as the aedicula of Victoria Virgo, constructed between the temples of Victoria and the Magna Mater on the Palatine. All three reliefs belong to a monumental altar, similar in scale to the Ara Pacis, that included scenes of sacrifice in the Forum of Augustus and on the southwest Palatine. The figural pediment of the Ionic temple shows three scenes representing different moments in the Trojan War. The design was probably intended to complement the adjacent temple of Magna Mater, whose cult was closely connected to Rome’s Trojan ancestry.