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The Introduction seeks to define cosmography. The first half of the Introduction takes Pindar's 3rd Olympian as a point of entry to illustrate cosmography with a concrete example. Building on that specific discussion and unpacking it, the second half of the Introduction moves on to more general considerations of a methodological and terminological order, so as to delineate the notion more explicitly, and the possibilities of its application, far beyond Pindar. All following chapters expand and build on these general considerations of the Introduction. The first chapter thus aims to explore the challenges and illustrate the significance of studying cosmography through cult and place. Through a complementary focus on the visual media of epiphany in language and art, the second chapter expands the investigation of the first chapter on the cosmography of cult and place. The third chapter aims to further explore the challenges and illustrate the significance of studying cosmography through an archive of genres and chronological periods. The fourth chapter looks more closely at the conflicts of knowledge and authority that punctuate the transformations of cosmography in the Classical period. The distinctive creativity of Hellenistic cosmography, finally, is the main object of the fifth chapter.
The fifth chapter is chiefly concerned with the creative instantiations of Hyperborea in the Hellenistic and later periods, studied there as examples of a more thoroughly textualised, literary process of worlding. It looks at changing strategies of composing worlds through an archive of libraries and canons. The first section of the chapter starts with an overview of the transformations of the Hyperborean material in geographical literature after Herodotus, from Eratosthenes and Strabo to Pliny the Elder. The second section examines two equally productive, creative strategies of appropriation of the Hyperborean nexus in the post-Classical archive: Solinus' De mirabilibus mundi and the Philippica of Theopompus. The third section is concerned with the distinctive cosmographical usages of Hyperborea in early Hellenistic utopias, and their deep engagement with the archive: Hecataeus of Abdera's On the Hyperboreans, Callimachus' Hymn to Delos, and Simias of Rhodes' Apollo. All support the wider considerations of the chapter on the continued relevance of Hyperborea for thinking the worlds of the Ptolemaic and Seleucid kingdoms. The fourth section brings us back to Athens, with detailed study of two cosmographical texts written over and through the archive: the Delian Oration of Lycurgus and the pseudo-Platonic Axiochos.
The third chapter is concerned with a foundational moment in the history of the archive. The poetic ‘road’ to Hyperborea, there, rather than cult or sanctuaries, serves as the focus for looking at the earliest records of the Hyperborean nexus in archaic epic. A first section looks at trajectories from Hyperborea. The second section analyses Pindar's construction of a journey to Hyperborea in Pythian 10 and Bacchylides' instrumentalisation of Hyperborea in Ode 3. Both readings aim to shed some light on how the two poets composed their worlds with material that was already in place. The rest of the chapter proceeds to examine the nature of this earlier material. The third section looks at the scene of the Iliad (13.1–9) where Zeus turns his gaze towards the men of the distant North, and it sets out the evidence for other relevant early epic texts. The fourth section looks more closely at the fragments of the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women where the circular travels of the winged Boreads bring them all the way to ‘the well-horsed Hyperboreans’. The fifth section revisits in some detail the fragments of Aristeas of Proconnesus' epic narrative of a journey to the distant North, the Arimaspeia.
This paper discusses the transcription of three Greek proper names in Ovid, Metamorphoses Book 10. It argues that we should read Haemon (10.77), Amycliade (10.162) and Panchaica (10.309) rather than Haemum, Amyclide and Panchaia.
This article presents an interpretation of Cyrus’ psychology in Xenophon's Cyropaedia. Its point is that Cyrus’ psychological structure is composed by a set of three desires (philotimía, philanthrōpía, philomátheia) given by nature and a set of virtues (sōphrosúnē and enkráteia) acquired by education. The paper will argue that Cyrus, as an enkratic ruler, does not long for any kind of honours, but is guided by true philotimía, that is, the desire for true honours—honours freely given by gratitude or admiration. philanthrōpía is the key to achieve these honours, since it naturally prompts a benevolent and generous behaviour. At the same time, philomátheia provides the desire of knowledge necessary to acquire the techniques in order to accomplish ambitious and philanthropic deeds. Therefore, confronting those who have posed negative interpretations of Cyrus, the article will argue that the uncommon combination of these psychological predispositions makes Cyrus a virtuous and effective ruler.
This article asks what the graffito incised on the Dipylon oinochoē (IG I2 919, eighth century b.c.e.) reveals about the nature of the dance competition that it commemorates. Through a systematic analysis of the evaluative and descriptive meaning of the adjective ἀταλός and its cognates in early Greek epic, it is argued that a narrower definition compared to previous suggestions can be established. The word refers to the carefreeness that is specific to a child or young animal, and its uses typically imply a positive evaluation which is connected not only to the well-being that this carefreeness entails but also to the positive emotion of tenderness and the sentiment of care that it engenders in a perceiver. It is concluded that, when used to specify the criterion by which a dance contest will be adjudicated, the term refers to an aesthetic property that is repeatedly praised in archaic Greek texts in other words: that of dancing with the adorable but short-lived carefree abandon of a child.
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.