A shortage of comparative evidence in both early Greek literature and Ionic inscriptions compromises our ability to assess with any precision the degree of Homeric influence on Herodotean language at the level of the individual word and phrase. Nonetheless it is possible to identify with confidence several passages in the Histories that recall and recast the language of specific passages from the Homeric epics (especially the Iliad), as well as episodes that evoke the Homeric representation of xenia (especially in the Odyssey). While these Homeric allusions may serve in a general way to enhance the status and solemnity of the events they describe, we have also observed a variety of more specific (and not always flattering) ways in which the Homeric world, so evoked, casts light on the events and characters portrayed by Herodotus, and even on developments in the Greek world since the defeat of Xerxes’ expedition.

This book explores Herodotus’ creative interaction with the Greek poetic tradition from early hexameter verse through fifth-century Attic tragedy. The poetic tradition informs the Histories in both positive and negative ways, since Herodotus adopts or adapts some poetic features while rejecting others as a means of defining the nature of his own project. The range of such features includes subject matter; diction and phraseology; narrative motifs, themes, patterns, and structure; speech types and speech complexes; the role of the narrator – his presence, functions, source(s), authority, and limitations; the manipulation of time (narrative order, rhythm, and frequency); conceptions of truth and falsehood; the construction of the human past and its relation to the present; the relationship between humanity and deity, and the role each plays in the causation of events. In these and other regards Herodotus may use poetic precedent as a model, a foil, or some combination of the two.

The differences between the primary Homeric and Herodotean narrators are manifest: the former is covert and omniscient (thanks to the Muses), the latter overt and limited by his human (re)sources in exploring the past and other foreign countries. Both authors use secondary narratorial surrogates in order to highlight their own achievement in preserving the kleos of remarkable deeds. While Homeric surrogates from the heroic past (e.g., the bard Demodocus and the bard-like storyteller Odysseus) model expertise and status that the human bard aspires to in his own performance, Herodotus casts a more critical eye on the post-heroic inquiries of his textual avatars, whether “professional” (Hecataeus and Aristagoras) or “amateur” (typically monarchic investigations of foreign cultures, undertaken for personal profit). In a metatextual move without Homeric precedent, the experiences of advisor figures who are assimilated to the Herodotean narrator shed light on the strengths and limitations of knowledge gained through historiē.

At a time when the social authority of the poets was being contested in the revolutionary medium of prose, it is remarkable that in the opening chapters of the Histories Herodotus asserts his commitment to the commemorative function of the poetic tradition, and his affiliation with the Homeric epics; that in the Lydian logos to follow, he chooses the poet Solon to articulate human and divine causes of the fundamental principle of Herodotean historiography, the transience of human prosperity; and that he elaborates the programmatic story of Croesus’ rise and fall with elements drawn from Homeric, lyric, and tragic poetry. In this way Herodotus establishes from the outset the hybrid nature of his work, in which he uses the artistic resources of the poets to channel and challenge their authority, and to engage the emotions and intellect of a broad Hellenic audience steeped in the traditions of poetic performance.

Chapter 4 tackles how the Secret Book of John interprets the book of Genesis. It shows how the writer(s) of the Secret Book interpreted Genesis twice: once for the upper world and once for the lower world. It shows how, even with oppositional statements against Moses, the Secret Book continually depends on Genesis for its content and storyline. A brief section on how the Secret Book employs other parts of the Bible (in particular, the Gospel of John) is included.

The poetry of the historical Solon plays an important role in Herodotus’ portrayal of the Athenian in the Histories. Herodotus adapts prominent themes from Solon’s poetry to reflect issues of historical, ethnographical, and historiographical interest. Like his poetic predecessor, the Herodotean Solon redefines the nature of prosperity, but in a new context (his visit to Croesus’ Lydian court) that highlights a significant ethnographical difference between Eastern and Western values, and anticipates the recurrent historical scenario whereby more luxurious “soft” peoples tend to be overthrown by more primitive “hard” peoples. The unpredictable outcome of human endeavors is another poetic theme that Herodotus mines for its historical and metahistorical resonance: Croesus’ inability to foresee the end of his prosperity results in the expansion of Persian rule throughout Asia, while the Solonian admonition to “look to the end” informs Herodotus’ own choice of the recent past as the subject of his inquiry.

Chapter 7 focuses on the reception history of the Secret Book of John, discussing the significance of the expansion of the shorter version into the longer, and treating how the Secret Book was received or at least echoed in other Nag Hammadi and gnostic texts.

This introduction outlines current understandings and paradoxes of the chorus. It discusses the single and formal role that various critical traditions have assigned to the tragic chorus over the centuries, and how a focus on the chorus’ fragmentations, augmentations, interruptions and interactions is better suited to capture the varied activities that the tragic chorus undertakes in fifth-century Athenian theatre. To justify why a new account of choral performance is necessary, the introduction also examines the relative neglect of the chorus in scholarly accounts of ancient performance, the history and transmission of dramatic texts, and studies exploring the politics of tragic and literary form. It also offers an overview of choral knowns and unknowns, including the chorus’ size and composition, their delivery and performance, and their arrangement on the ancient theatrical space.

Herodotus’ numerous citations of poets and their work in the Histories demonstrate his deep, broad knowledge of the Greek song-culture, including epic, lyric, and tragic poetry. Herodotus displays extraordinary knowledge of the epic tradition in his critique of the Homeric version of the fall of Troy, which he rejects in favor of the (allegedly) ancient Egyptian tradition that Helen was detained by King Proteus and never reached Troy. The assertion that Homer rejected this version of the story as inappropriate for epic signals Herodotus’ awareness of the different generic constraints under which epic poets operate. The use that Herodotus makes of Aristeas’ hexameter poem the Arimaspeia is especially difficult to assess because of our limited knowledge of the poem. The strongest evidence for Aristean influence on Herodotus may lie in the latter’s exploration of cultural relativism, which includes critical assessments of Greek customs articulated by non-Greek characters in the Histories.

Keywords and images are deployed to communicate the gospel message that, in the person of Jesus, the divine Father has made himself known in a world otherwise lost in error and illusion. Its readers are taught to regard themselves as the elect, called out of darkness into light.

Chapter 2 offers a fresh translation of the Secret Book of John primarily using Nag Hammadi Codex III, but filling in missing parts from the Berlin Codex (BG).