‘The task of criticism', Johnson writes, ‘is to establish principles.’ One principle which forms the background to much of Johnson’s literary criticism is that of human fallibility. Writers and their works usually contain a mixture of great virtues and serious defects, and Johnson often takes a balancing-scales approach. He is also keenly aware of historical context, arguing that authors must be understood through the books the authors themselves read, and taking an interest in the details of book production. As for critical judgement, Johnson approves of works which reveal the universality of human nature – hence his love of Homer, and, conversely, his strictures on the Metaphysical poets. As well as being accountable to truth and nature, the writer is also accountable to the reader, and by extension the ‘public’ and ‘mankind’. Above all, literature must pay its due to religion – though this is precisely the area where literature is likely to fall short.

At the court of the Phaeacians, Demodocus sings of the quarrel between Odysseus and Achilles and delights his listeners, all except the still unrevealed Odysseus who covers his head and weeps. During the feast that follows, Odysseus, despite his grief, sends the singer a rich portion of meat and salutes him, praising how well he sang ’all that the Achaeans did and suffered and toiled, as if you were present yourself, or heard it from one who was’. In this simile, Odysseus anticipates the twin methods of validation for contemporary historians: eyewitness (autopsy) and inquiry of the participants in events. In ancient historiography, professions of autopsy and inquiry are found from Herodotus to Ammianus, and they serve as one of the most prominent means of claiming the authority to narrate contemporary and non-contemporary history. In this chapter, we shall survey some of the issues revolving around inquiry for ancient historians, treating the theoretical observations of the historians on the difficulties and problems raised by inquiry, as well as the explicit claims made by historians in the course of their narratives.

One trend in recent nineteenth-century American studies has been the rising critical status of poetry, which has gone from being widely neglected by C19 scholars to being a vibrant and diverse field of scholarship. Yet, while this scholarship has recovered major authors and recuperated long-derided aspects of nineteenth-century poetics, it has also maintained an old narrative about C19 poetry, namely that the status of poetry declined during the postbellum period. The career of William Cullen Bryant is emblematic of these trends: while there has been some fascinating recent work on his poetry, it has been informed exclusively by his early poetry of the 1810s and 1820s. This essay argues that Bryant’s career looks different when viewed from the end, rather than the beginning. In so doing, it revises recent critical accounts of Bryant, and C19 American poetry more broadly, by examining his translation of the Iliad, which he published in 1870. Bryant’s Iliad was one of the most celebrated poems of the postbellum era and was considered his masterpiece by contemporary readers. This essay examines the translation and discuss some of the ways in which it engages the politics and poetics of the Reconstruction period

This chapter considers the prominence of and play with temporality in imperial Greek epic through a reading of three poems which thematise time in particularly self-conscious ways: Quintus of Smyrna’s Posthomerica, Triphiodorus’ Sack of Troy and Colluthus’ Abduction of Helen. These epics all return directly to the world of Troy, resurrect Homer’s idiolect and style, and locate their plots before or in-between the timespan of the Iliad and Odyssey. Analysing some key moments of temporal reflexivity in these poems, the chapter outlines the specific ‘imperial Greek temporality’ that they share, which connects these otherwise very different poems and renders them distinct from, for instance, Apollonius’ Alexandrian epic as analysed by Phillips. These poets proudly return to the literary distant past and use this past to convey their own imperial identities, revelling in their paradoxical positions as both pre- and post-Homeric.

This chapter considers the formations and transformations of Greek epic in the cinema. The cinema has been fundamentally heroic and epic in both subject matter (the mythic past) and elevated visual style since its birth in 1895. Rather than resurvey this prominence of epic themes in the history of film, Winkler demonstrates their power through a reading of the cinema’s own epic genre par excellence – the Western. The chapter first shows how the American Western follows archetypal heroic models in both plot and character and how many films are patterned explicitly on Homeric epic. Winkler then turns to specific archetypal aspects of ancient epic, primarily Homer’s, in the Western. These include fame (kleos); rivalry to be the best (aristos Akhaiôn / fastest on the draw); the heroic code’s implications of doom and death; heroic rituals (arming before duels/showdowns as forms of aristeia); and fundamental story patterns, primarily the development from savagery to civilisation (chaos to kosmos) in the form of ktisis narratives connected with revenge (tisis). Winkler details the power of these archetypes by examining one of the most profound epic-mythic Westerns.

This chapter offers an approach to the discourses of race and ethnicity in ancient Greek epic, specifically Homer’s Iliad and Apollonius’ Argonautica. The chapter begins by defining, theorising and applying a transhistorical concept of race and ethnicity which makes it possible to analyse the literary representations of ancient manifestations of ethnic and racialised oppression. Murray argues that epic poetry transmitted to its receiving society, whether ancient or modern, a mythical social order that placed the heroes, the demi-gods, at the top of the human hierarchy, and non-heroes, the people who are oppressed and exploited by the heroes, at the bottom. She also examines the specific construct of the epic hero, who can only really exist where non-heroes can be and are dehumanised by him. Murray analyses examples of this hierarchical structure and argues that this mythic social order, so integral to the society of Greek epic, was racial.

This chapter explores connections between early Greek and Near Eastern narrative poetry and demonstrates how the Eastern Mediterranean context can help situate early Greek epic in an ancient cross-cultural framework. The chapter addresses methodological questions about how Near Eastern poetry has been related to Homer and Hesiod, and provides the literary-historical coordinates of the relevant Sumero-Akkadian, Hurro-Hittite and Ugaritic corpora. Given its particular closeness to Homer, the chapter discusses the Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic among other works, as part of a broader thematic comparison of poetic composition and concepts of the cosmos and heroism. Ballesteros carefully outlines the various factors that may explain similarities and considers directions for future comparisons involving work on literary criticism, oral tradition, scribal culture and world mythology.

This chapter analyses the presentation of space in relation to the story narrated in the two Homeric epics. Tsagalis’ study is divided into two parts: in the first, he explores simple story space, i.e. how the narrator views the space in which the plot is unravelled in both the Iliad and the Odyssey. In the second part, he treats embedded story space, i.e. the way characters, functioning as thinking agents with stored experiences, perceive what is taking place in the story-world. The structure of this chapter locates and highlights for the readers the similarities and differences between the Iliad and the Odyssey with respect to these two categories of space and suggests the ways in which these categories could be taken up and manipulated by later proponents of the genre.

This chapter traces the shadow that ancient Greek epic, and the Homeric poems most particularly, have cast over the modern nations of Greece and Turkey, using case studies with a specific focus on how the epics came to figure in the nation-building work of both countries. Greece presents a unique case for the reception of these poems for two related reasons: Homeric Greek can be integrated into modern Greek literature without transl(iter)ation, and a long-standing national discourse casts the Greek heroes of the Iliad and Odyssey as the ancestors of Greeks living today. On the other hand, Turkey, whose borders encompass the ancient site of Troy, made different use of the Homeric tradition. During the self-conscious process of Westernisation in the twenty-first century, the Homeric poems were among the first great works of ‘Western’ – not Greek – literature to be translated by translators working in the employ of the state. Hanink uses these contrasting studies of the national receptions of ancient epic in the ‘Homeric lands’ to point to the range of ways that Homeric poetry has been invoked in modern nation-building projects.

This chapter treats love, desire and eroticism, arguing that eros and philotes serve as metapoetic structuring principles of epic narrative. It begins with a preliminary survey of the foundational texts, focusing on the scene of Helen at the loom as she weaves a tapestry of warriors in battle, essentially a figuration of the Iliad as an artistic product of sexual longing. The chapter then moves forward to consider how these same erotic structuring principles play out in imperial Greek epic, which absorbs Homer’s models through the filter of romantic fiction. Smith focuses on the first three books of Quintus of Smyrna’s Posthomerica – the events surrounding Penthesileia, Memnon, and the death of Achilles – reading them as flirtatious manipulations that intensify readerly anticipation, and then turns to Nonnus’ Dionysiaca, specifically the tendril imagery in the Ampelos episode and its sequel, the romance of Calamus and Carpus. These episodes serve as exemplars of the regenerative powers of epic desire.

This chapter focuses on emotions and affects in Greek epic. Leven demarcates the difference between emotion and affect in this context: emotions are defined as complex phenomena that involve embodied minds, gendered individuals and their societies, as well as instincts, cognition and values; and affects are understood as more ineffable feelings, which lie ‘beneath’ the surface: the innumerable microevents that bodies and selves undergo in their experience of the world around them, rarely indexed in conventional language. The chapter then starts by outlining the main questions that have divided scholarship on ancient emotions in general, and epic emotions in particular, with special focus on two cases, anger and fear. It then turns to episodes featuring what Leven calls ‘scenes of affect’ and argues, first, that epic is not in fact solely dominated by ‘big emotions’ but is rather shaped by a multitude of affects. Focusing on representative passages of the Odyssey, the Argonautica, and the Posthomerica, the chapter ultimately shows that epic provides its own tools to conceptualise these affects.

This chapter considers the place of epic, above all Homer, in three overlapping areas of ancient Greek and Roman culture – education at all levels, elite literary culture, and the more specialised interpretations of scholars and philosophers. Homer was central to Greek education and Hunter considers the various types of evidence for this centrality – anecdotes, literary descriptions, papyri – and the reasons for the greater attention given to the Iliad over the Odyssey. He then illustrates the place of epic in the creative poetry and prose of the Hellenistic and imperial periods and finally samples the scholarly and philosophical approaches taken to Homer from Ptolemaic Alexandria to late antiquity. The chapter brings together a range of authors and thinkers, from Quintilian to Horace, Dio Chrysostom to Eustathius, and Porphyry’s remarkable allegorical treatment of Homer.

This chapter analyses the richness and relevance of epic scenes of sacrifice. The detailed descriptions of animal sacrifice found in Homer not only stand out for their rich diction and complex narrative resonance, but they are also unique for the dominant referential role that they continued to play in Greek representations of sacrifice, most notably in later epic poetry. After a quick review of the major sacrifices in Iliad 1, Odyssey 3 and Odyssey 14, Gagné turns to the sacrifice of a cow to Athena in Book 5 of Nonnus’ Dionysiaca, the only detailed sacrificial scene in that massive poem, and the double sacrifice to Apollo in Book 1 of the Argonautica, one of the most emphatic sites of engagement with the verses of Homer in Apollonius. One puzzling verb of Homer, ὠμοθετεῖν, serves as a guiding thread throughout this study on the shifting language of ritual representation. By assessing the traditional language of Homeric sacrificial scenes, and these dramatic examples of its reception in later epic, Gagné demonstrates the enduring, canonical presence of Homeric sacrifice in the development of a tradition of poetic reference, in what he terms ‘the ritual archive’ of Greek epic.

This chapter investigates the roles and the relevance of women in Greek epic, and argues that the tradition developed in Homeric epic has intense and complicated relevance to the later development of the tradition. Hauser shows that looking back to gender, and women, in Homer is as important now as ever. She surveys key moments in the Iliad and Odyssey featuring women; female characters like Helen and Penelope are examined first in their own right and then in their engagement with (and against) men, to illuminate the gender roles and the complex dynamics of womanhood and the feminine in the epics. Hauser ends by looking forward to the reception of Homer’s women in recent novelistic reworkings from Madeline Miller to Margaret Atwood, showing how Homer’s women are taking centre stage in contemporary classical receptions by women, a prominence which demonstrates their continuing relevance.

This chapter provides an account of epic katabases (journeys to the Underworld) and treats the Underworld as both a theme and a location in early hexameter poetry. Sekita presents an overview of Underworld scenes and motifs featuring in Homer and Hesiod, and as reconstructed in the Epic Cycle and other epic poets. She also summarises the main scholarly achievements and developments regarding the possible interpretations of this material, including its reception in the iconography of Attic and Apulian vase-painting and place in the broader Mediterranean tradition.

Discussion of the transfer of cult knowledge from Anatolia to European Hellas in both the Bronze Age and Iron Age, with a close examination of Ephesian Artemis and other Asian Mother-goddess figures with consideration of Ur-Aeolian (= Ahhiyawan) and Aeolian involvement in the process.

The investigation of Aeolian foundation myths continues in this chapter, with examination of traditions of the founding of Boeotian Thebes. Ancestral Indo-European tradition is again evident, as is an Anatolian stratum, one which foregrounds technological expertise of Asian origin.

This chapter argues for and interprets allusions to the invocation before the Catalogue of Ships (Il. 2.484-93) in Ibycus’ ’Polycrates Ode’, Pindar’s Paean 6 and Paean 7b, and Simonides’ ’Plataea Elegy’. It then considers these four poems together as a unique case study for the early reception of Homer. For no other passage from the Iliad or the Odyssey can we trace an equally extensive afterlife in early Greek lyric. The author argues that the unusual prominence of the narrator’s personality and the exceptionally emphatic claim to objective truth in Il. 2.484–93 made these lines a privileged point of reference for subsequent explorations of the nature of poetic authority.

This chapter considers some aspects of the intertextual and intervisual dynamics of Euripides’ Cyclops with particular reference to the cave represented by the skēnē. The particular links of the Cyclops to Sophocles’ Philoctetes are used to explore a network of allusive possibilities in both plays going back to Homer’s ‘Cave of the Nymphs’ in Odyssey 13 and embracing the lost Philoctetes plays of Aeschylus and Euripides. The powerful mediating role of Homer’s cave is seen to be transferred to the caves of drama as the boundary between the seen and the unseen, between the past, present, and future, and as a strongly suggestive marker of the difference between epic narrative and dramatic representation. As the Homeric cave had separate entrances for mortals and gods, so did the Athenian stage. In exploring some of the richness of ‘intertextual allusion’ in fifth-century drama, the chapter also contributes to the appreciation of the differences in allusive practice between tragedy, comedy, and satyr play and of how poets acknowledged and exploited those differences.