This book describes itself as ‘an irresistible anthology of ancient Greek writings that explore queer desire and love’. It is directed towards readers who are ‘interested in finding connections across time to their own queer experiences’ (although it is not restricted to ‘readers who consider themselves queer’) and provides ‘imaginative paradigms for a full and erotic life’ under the overarching category of what is ‘non-heteronormativity’. The texts are drawn largely from philosophical or poetic perspectives – indeed, quite a lot of the desire expressed was unrequited if it was ever sexual in the first place: she concedes (for instance) that the love of Achilles and Patroclus was ‘intense but not necessarily erotic’ in Homer. Love (of course) generates better literature than sex, and she was no doubt wise to avoid citing the seedier sides of Greek lust, although the book could perhaps have been improved by the addition of tasteful illustrations from Greek vase-painting. Nooter avoids the use of primary obscenities (after one Oedipal shocker on the first page of the introduction) in Greek and English. She accepts that her use of the modern term ‘queer’ is ‘deliberately anachronistic’ since much of what we now find in lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer, and more (LGBTQ+) phenomena has no parallel in the ancient world and modern concepts of queer identities ‘hardly line up with those of just a decade ago’ (x), let alone those of the ancient world. This is all no doubt good news for schools and colleges, as it makes this book a possible addition to the library and is also reassuring to teachers who are looking to discuss same-sex love in Greek culture without leading their students into more sophisticated regions of queerdom. Taken all together as a selection of fine Greek texts, the book aims at being ‘buoyant, playful and passionate’, and in that she has succeeded very well.
The selection moves chronologically with generous servings of texts from Homer to Plutarch. She deals with the love of men for men (Achilles and Patroclus), women for women (Alcman, Sappho), gods for boys such as Ganymede and Pelops, and men for ‘boys’ (Anacreon, Theognis, Plato’s Lysis, Theocritus); men dressing as women on stage (Aristophanes and Euripides); people seeking their ‘other half’, whether that be male or female (Plato’s Symposium); and Alcibiades as the ultimate sex-machine. I was impressed with the emotional depth of so much of this, from Pindar’s image of his lovelorn self as being like ‘wax bitten by the sun of holy honey-bees’ (83) to Theocritus’ masterly handling of the Hylas myth (164–172) in which the ‘curly-haired’ youth mastered the ‘bronze-hearted’ Heracles. Plato and Xenophon are not often seen as men given to wearing their hearts on their sleeves, but Nooter quotes both, showing full and rapturous appreciation of the power of love in whatever form it appears. Her own enthusiasm for the project is brought out in her brilliant chapter headings (for example, ‘Who wants to live forever: Killer queen’ on Alcibiades).
The Greek text is printed with Nooter’s own accurate translation facing it, and the pagination is well co-ordinated to allow the reader to use the English to understand the Greek at a glance. The translation often matches the style of the original: she is down-to-earth when Aristophanes is, and she is suitably stately when rendering Homer (for example, ‘I who am such as no other of the bronze-clad Achaeans’ [Iliad 18.105]). Her versions of limpid Greek elegiacs, however, can stick too closely to the style and the word order of the Greek. Take, for instance, Theognis 237–239, quoted on page 97:
σοὶ μὲν ἐγὼ πτέρ᾿ ἔδωκα, σὺν οἷς ἐπ᾿ ἀπείρονα πόντον
πωτήσῃ καὶ γῆν πᾶσαν ἀειρόμενος
ῥηϊδίως·
(To you I have given wings with which over the boundless sea
You may fly, soaring above the entire earth
Easily).
This sort of over-literal translation is perhaps good for students of Greek seeking to parse the original but will often make Greek-less readers scratch their heads. The book ends with a few pages of selective notes but no suggestions for further reading and no index. It is a huge pity that this book only concerns itself with Greek texts: a book which claims to be an ‘ancient guide to sexuality’ really should have included at least some pointers towards ancient Rome as well as ancient Greece, and Petronius, Catullus, Juvenal and Martial would have expanded and illuminated the range of experience to better reflect a fuller appreciation of the topic.