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Year: 2016

Rezension von Thomson, Mark: Studies in the Historia Augusta, Bruxelles2011 (= Collection Latomus ; 337)

Zinsli, Samuel Christian

Posted at the Zurich Open Repository and Archive, University of ZurichZORA URL: https://doi.org/10.5167/uzh-120046Journal Article

Originally published at:Zinsli, Samuel Christian (2016). Rezension von Thomson, Mark: Studies in the Historia Augusta, Brux-elles 2011 (= Collection Latomus ; 337). Gnomon, 88(1):81-83.

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VORLAGEN UND NACHRICHTEN The Oxyrhynchus Papyri. Vol. LXXVIII.

Edited with translations and notes by R.-L. Chang, W.B. Henry, P.J. Par-sons, A. Benaissa. With contributions by M.J. Anderson, J.H. Brusuelas, L. Capponi, D. Colomo, N. Gonis, N. Karapanagioti, W. Luppe, M. Maehler, M. Malouta, F. Maltomini, Z. Ötvös, P.M. Pinto, S. Rishøj Christensen, M.D. Reeve, Ph. Schmitz, S. Trojahn, M. Vierres. London: Published by the Egypt Exploration Society with the sup-port of the Arts and Humanities Re-search Council and the British Academy 2012. XII, 191 S. 12 Taf. 4°. (Graeco-Roman Memoirs. 99.).

Il volume presenta il testo di 56 nuovi papiri greci della collezione ossirinchita (5127–5182), distribuiti in 5 sezioni: I. Theological Texts (5127–5129); II. New Literary Texts (5130–5131); III. Known Literary Texts (5132–5158); IV. Subliterary Texts (5159–5163); V. Documentary Texts (5164–5182). Tra i testi teologici segnalo il 5127, un piccolo bifoglio di pergamena che forma due fogli consecutivi di un codice di piccole dimensioni, originariamente forma-to da due bifogli, il secondo dei quali è perduto, e databile al tardo V secolo: con-teneva il Salmo XC (che diventa CIX nella Preface del volume, p. V), molto spesso utilizzato quale amuleto, come in questo caso. Il 5129, assegnato al IV secolo, è un piccolo frammento di un foglio di codice pergamenaceo, contenente i paragrafi 50.12 e 51.4–5 della Prima Apologia di Giustino Martire; si tratta dell’esemplare più antico di un testo di Giustino, che è considerato il maggiore apologista cristiano greco. Il testo del frammento differisce alquanto da quel-lo riportato dal Parisinus Graecus 450, codice inaffidabile del 1364. Osservo una certa difformità di comportamento dell’editore (W.B. Henry) nella decifrazio-ne e nella trascrizione del testo: in lato pelo l. 2 egli scrive γενηc[oμενα, ma sia dalla fotografia edita nel volume (Pl. I) sia dall’immagine ad alta risoluzione visibile sul sito dei POxy on line, risulta che del sigma è conservata solo una parte e, come tale, la lettera è incerta, per cui andava più correttamente trascritta con il punto dell’incertezza; nello stesso lato, l. 1, sente

la necessità di scrivere π̣ρο̣φ̣ητει̣[αc, ma lo iota è leggibile per intero e dunque certo. Il primo dei nuovi testi letterari è il 5130, costituito da 9 frammenti, il più esteso dei quali (fr. 1) conserva la parte finale di un rotolo, su cui è il titolo finale. Il papiro, delineato in una semicorsiva agile e per questo convincentemente datato dall’edi-tore (P.J. Parsons) al III secolo d.C., con-tiene un «estratto dell’Elogio della povertà di Alcidamante»; questo retore vissuto nel IV sec. a.C., secondo una discussa testimo-nianza di Menandro Retore (346.17, p. 32 Russell-Wilson), avrebbe composto degli scritti paradossali, come un Elogio della morte e, forse, un Elogio della povertà: il papiro testimonia, sette secoli dopo Alci-damante, che effettivamente egli scrisse un Elogio della povertà o, almeno, che gli si attribuiva un’opera con questo titolo. Come osserva giustamente il Parsons, il copista appare una persona di una certa cultura, che ha delineato correttamente il testo, alla fine del quale ha apposto una coronide e quindi il tiolo finale, separato dalla linea finale dell’ultima colonna e centrato risa quest’ultima: deve essersi trattato di una copia per uso privato. Os-servo che nella foto del papiro (Pl. II) la coronide non c’è: se ne vede solo un mini-mo tratto della parte superiore, inoltre nel testo essa è apposta all’altezza della terzul-tima linea della colonna (l. 22), mentre, ammesso che nell’originale esistesse, anda-va collocata all’altezza dell’ultima (l. 24).

Il secondo testo letterario nuovo è il 5131, contenente i resti di due colonne con-secutive delineate in una scrittura libraria agile ed inclinata, che i due editori (W. Luppe e W.B. Henry) fanno risalire al III sec. d.C. La col. II ha una qualche consi-stenza: vi si individuano cinque versi ana-pestici incompleti (ll. 3–7) seguiti da quat-tro trimetri giambici, anch’essi incompleti (ll. 8–11). Sul margine sinistro della l. 8 è il nome Ἀθάμαc, al di sotto del quale è la lettera β: Atamante è il personaggio cui vanno riferiti vv. 8–11; il numerale, apposto certamente da una seconda mano, potrebbe indicare che egli è il deuteragonista. Il nome di un altro personaggio era apposto sul margine sinistro, all’altezza della l. 12. La menzione di Atamante, di Cadmo a l. 6

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ed alcune somiglianze linguistiche induco-no i due editori, a mio avviso non invero-similmente, ad attribuire, pur con qualche incertezza, il frammento alla tragedia per-duta di Euripide Ino. La trascrizione non è impeccabile: ci sono diversi errori, dei quali uno è stato corretto dallo scriba, altri due da una seconda mano: questi particolari, insieme con la tipologia grafica, certamente non elegante; la non regolare sistemazione delle lettere sul rigo di base e forse anche la qualità del supporto, che nella foto appare non levigato con cura, fanno pensare, a mio avviso, ad una copia per uso personale.

I papiri che restituiscono parti di testi a noi già noti sono 27: 1 contiene resti di 7 versi delle Tesmoforiazuse di Aristofane, che si combinano con il già noto POxy LXXIII 4933; 15 restituiscono testi di Isocrate (A Nicocle: 3; Nicocle: 4; La pace: 4; Filippo: 3; Antidosi: 1); 5 hanno parti di vari discorsi del Corpus Demosthenicum (Prima Orazione Contro Aristogitone: 3; Prima Orazione Contro Onetore:1; Contro Formione: 1); 6 contengono porzioni di diverse Opere morali di Plutarco (I pro-gressi nella virtù: 1; I precetti coniugali: 1; Detti di re e imperatori: 1; Questioni con-viviali: 2; L’intelligenza degli animali: 1).

Il 5132, datato al II–III sec. d.C., ag-giunge un elemento all’esile dossier dei papiri delle Tesmoforiazuse, che attualmen-te comprende 3 frammenti, risalenti al II/II–III sec. d.C. Aristofane, nel comples-so, non sembra avere avuto molta fortuna nell’Egitto greco e romano: tra le comme-die meno lette sembrano esserci Eccle-siazuse (1), Rane (3), Lisistrata (3), Vespe (4), Uccelli (3) e, appunto, le Tesmofo-riazuse.; appena più popolari appaiono essere state Le nuvole (8), La ricchezza (7), La pace (7).

Molto più letto pare Isocrate, e i nrr. 5133–5135 confermano la fortuna dell’ora-zione A Nicocle. Il 5133 è ciò che resta di un codice pergamenaceo in miniatura, con la pagina originariamente larga cm 7,5 ed alta cm 9,8, ascrivibile al gruppo XIV della classificazione di E.G. Turner. Anche in questo caso, sul fondamento dell’eccellente fotografia del frammento visibile sul sito dei POxy, si può forse avanzare qualche piccolo suggerimento alla trascrizione presentata dall’editrice (D. Colomo): a p. 119 (a) l. 3 la studiosa scrive πρατ]τ̣οντων,

ma il secondo tau è leggibile per intero; viceversa a l. 4 va scritto τ̣υραν e non τ]υραν, dal momento che una buona parte del tratto superiore del tau è ben visibile. Notevole il 5134, un frammento di papiro datato agli inizi del III sec. d.C.; contiene parti dei §§ 39–41 della stessa orazione, compresa la sezione del § 39 citata in una forma abbreviata e con varianti nell’Anti-dosi e da alcuni studiosi considerata (evi-dentemente a torto) una tarda interpola-zione. Una nuova, probabilmente non genuina variante è nel 5136, un piccolo frammento di rotolo papiraceo databile al II/III sec. d.C., che restituisce parti dei §§ 1–2 del Nicocle, dove, a l. 1, si legge ε]υρηcουcι, mentre il resto della tradizione ha εὑρήcoμεν: come osserva l’editore (W.B. Henry) si tratta di una corruzione dovuta alla vicina presenza di forme di terza per-sona plurale in oυcι(ν).

Con i nrr. 5140–5143, risalenti ad un ar-co compreso tra il I sec. a.C.-I sec. d.C. e il IV sec. d.C., i papiri contenenti il De pace isocrateo diventano complessivamente 22, di cui ben 19 provenienti da Ossirinco: segno della particolare fortuna che questa orazione di Isocrate pare abbia avuto in Egitto. I quattro nuovi testi contengono varianti di un certo interesse. Con i nrr. 5153–5158 anche il gruppo dei papiri plu-tarchei diviene più consistente: complessi-vamente sono 14, risalenti ad un periodo compreso tra il II e il V sec. d.C., con una prevalenza dell’arco di tempo II–III sec. Di essi, 11 contengono parti delle Opere mo-rali (3 pertengono alle Questioni convivia-li), gli altri 3 sono relativi alle Vite (rispetti-vamente Licurgo, Pelopida, Cesare); anche in questo caso la maggior parte (8 sicura-mente, 1 probabilmente) proviene da Ossi-rinco. In qualche modo tali materiali, che testimoniano la circolazione delle opere di Plutarco in Egitto, come osservano P.J. Parsons e J.H. Brusuelas, due degli editori dei 6 nuovi papiri ossirinchiti, vanno messi in relazione col fatto che lo scrittore una volta visitò quel Paese. Che 3 di questi ultimi 6 siano datati al II sec. d.C. viene considerato una conferma del fatto che le opere dello scrittore circolassero in Egitto già nell’àmbito della generazione della sua morte. Sul piano testuale i 6 nuovi papiri offrono alcune nuove letture ritenute cor-rette o plausibili dai vari editori; un errore

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manifesto e due varianti che ritroviamo nella tradizione indiretta (Stobeo e Porfi-rio), ma non nei MSS. Come osservano gli stessi Parsons e Brusuelas, le varianti di uno dei sei papiri, il 5156 (Questioni convi-viali, II sec. d.C.), sono particolarmente interessanti, dal momento che la trasmis-sione di questo trattato plutarcheo può essere ricostruita fino all’archetipo rappre-sentato dal Vindobonensis phil.gr. 148, della prima metà dell’XI secolo.

I 5 papiri paraletterari contengono ri-spettivamente un capitolo di un manuale di metrica, che tratta piedi tetrasillabici (5159), un dotto commentario ad una commedia antica, forse le Capre di Eupoli (5160); e 3 glossari greco-latini (5161–5163). Particolarmente interessante è il commentario, che utilizza, tra gli altri, grammatici come Seleuco Omerico, un Dionisio, Aristofane di Bisanzio, Callistra-to, Aristarco. L’identificazione della com-media analizzata si basa sulla menzione in col. I 15, 24 di una locandiera e in col. I 17, 31 s., II 11 di un capraio: secondo i due editori (W.B. Henry e S. Trojahn) «the apparent prominence» del primo perso-naggio fa pensare alle Capre di Eupoli, nel cui fr, 9 è menzionata una locandiera. L’identificazione, comunque, a mio avviso, resta fragile.

I 19 papiri documentari risalgono ad un arco di tempo compreso tra il 26 o 25 a.C. e l’inizio del IV sec. d.C.; ben 8 sono datati al I sec. a.C. Alcuni di essi sono di natura prettamente economica, come i nrr. 5164–5172, che furono prodotti nei primi anni della dominazione romana in Egitto e dunque in corrispondenza del nuovo, più duro sistema di tassazione. Ricordo il 5164 (26 oppure 25 a.C.), nel quale un Asclepia-de, padre di un Tolemeo, sovrintendente dei templi dei nomi Ossirinchite e Cinopo-lite, dichiara di ricevere due metretai di olio dal produttore Patoiphis: probabilmente l’olio era destinato alle lampade dei santua-ri; quello di cui parla il papiro è olio di cartamo (ἔλαιον κνήκινον): questa sarebbe l’unica attestazione papiracea dell’uso di tale olio a scopo di illuminazione. Notevoli sono, tra gli altri, anche il 5166 (anni 20 del I sec. a.C. ca.), nel quale un Mnesiteo dà delle indicazioni ad un Apollofane, proba-bilmente un banchiere, su come ricevere da Filisco, un comandante di cavalleria, la

tassa (2 talenti e 693 dracme di bronzo) sulla vendita di uno schiavo fuggitivo, che lo stesso Filisco aveva comprato da un Rutilio Filomuso; e il 5172 (30 luglio del 7 d.C.), che costituisce la ricevuta di una tassa sulle dighe (χωματικόν) più antica a noi pervenuta dal periodo romano. Alcuni documenti sono delle lettere, tra le quali ricordo il 5178 (inizio del II sec. d.C.): Eraclide, sitologo, scrive a Diogene, strate-go, sul trasporto di grano su imbarcazioni fluviali, in un periodo nel quale il livello delle acque del Nilo era ancora basso; e il 5179 (II sec. d.C.): Eliodoro di Alessandria chiede ad Attio, grammateus della tassa dell’1 % e del 2 % a Ptolemais Hormou, di avere la propria indennità mensile; proba-bilmente Eliodoro era uno dei collettori della tassa alle dipendenze del nomarca oppure uno dei poliziotti statali che stazio-navano presso ciascuna porta e il cui salario era pagato dal nomarca; la lettera testimo-nia l’esistenza di una stazione doganale a Ptolemais Hormou (El Lahun), l’unico porto del nomo Arsinoite sulla principale via d’acqua (il Bahr Yussuf) che collegava il nomo stesso alla valle del Nilo, porto che doveva essere molto trafficato. Che a Pto-lemais Hormou ci fosse una stazione doga-nale era piuttosto scontato, il papiro ora lo conferma definitivamente.

Questo volume, con le sue edizioni di papiri eccellentemente decifrati (a parte qualche lieve incongruenza, di cui mi sono limitato a notare qualche esempio), tradotti e commentati, si inserisce splendidamente nel solco degli altri volumi della serie ossi-rinchita e costituisce un nuovo, prezioso contributo alla storia della letteratura greca, a quella della scrittura greca e a quella del libro antico, nonché alla storia economica e sociale dell’Egitto greco e romano. L’aspetto meno convincente è rappresenta-to dalla qualità delle fotografie, nel com-plesso non soddisfacente. Lecce Mario Capasso

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Theokritos Kouremenos: Aristotle’s de Caelo Γ Introduction, Translation and Commentary. Stuttgart: Steiner 2013. 121 S. (Palingenesia. 100.). Das vorliegende Buch besteht aus einer englischen Übersetzung des dritten von vier Büchern des aristotelischen Traktats De caelo, einer Einleitung sowie einem aus-führlichen Kommentar. Theokritos Kou-remenos, der bezüglich des Philosophie-rens von Aristoteles eine Entwicklungsthe-se vertritt und der vor einigen Jahren der Kosmologie des Stagiriten eine provozie-rende Studie widmete,1 hat nun das Buch Gamma aufgrund seiner relativen Auto-nomie für eine separate Erschließung aus-gewählt. De caelo Γ stellt nach Ansicht des Verfassers (S. 17) eine geeignete Einleitung in die aristotelische Elemententheorie dar und illustriert den besonderen dialekti-schen, hierin wohl durch Platon beeinfluß-ten Charakter der aristotelischen Physik (Bezeichnend etwa 298b12–14: Οἱ μὲν οὖν πρότερον φιλοσοφήσαντες περὶ τῆς ἀληθείας καὶ πρὸς οὓς νῦν λέγομεν ἡμεῖς λόγους καὶ πρὸς ἀλλήλους διηνέχθησαν). Es ist nun in der Tat so, wie K. meint, daß Aristoteles bei seiner Untersuchung der vier sublunaren Elemente (Erde, Wasser, Luft, Feuer) häufig in die Auseinanderset-zung mit seinen vorplatonischen Vorgän-gern und insbesondere mit dem platoni-schen Timaios eintritt. Dennoch wird das Ziel, das Aristoteles in De caelo Γ verfolgt, nicht völlig klar, wenn das Buch isoliert betrachtet wird: Aristoteles begründet in den Büchern Alpha-Beta die Existenz eines unentstandenen und unvergänglichen Ele-ments, des sog. ‘ersten Körpers’ oder Äthers, der durch seine Kreisbewegung und seine Gewichtslosigkeit in der supra-lunaren Sphäre charakterisiert ist, und er erläutert danach im Buch Γ die Entste-hungsprozesse innerhalb des sublunaren Kosmos, die durch die Existenz von leich-ten und schweren Körpern (Feuer, Luft bzw. Wasser, Erde) und durch deren ge-radlinige Bewegung (nach oben bzw. nach unten) zu erklären sind. Aristoteles weist

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– 1 Cf. Th. Kouremenos, ‘Heavenly Stuff: The Constitution of the Celestial objects and the theory of homocentric spheres in Aristotle’s cosmology’, Stuttgart: Steiner 2010 (Palingenesia. 96.).

damit den Elementenmonismus der antiken Physiologen zurück, und er entkräftet auch die platonische Lehre von den Flächen als Konstituenten der einfachen Körper (inso-fern als Flächen kein Gewicht haben und gewichtslose Teile kein gewichthabendes Ganzes bilden können). Schwere und Leichtigkeit spielen also eine zentrale Rolle in der aristotelischen Kosmologie, und sie werden von Aristoteles im Buch Delta ein-gehend untersucht. Seit Friedrich Solm-sen’s ‘Aristotle’s System of the Physical World’ (Ithaca NY: Cornell University Press, 1960, S. 293 ff) ist die Aufteilung von De caelo in zwei Blöcke (A–B, Γ–Δ), die inhaltlich aufeinander aufbauen, mit guten Gründen allgemein akzeptiert. K. gibt in seinem Kommentar zwar nützliche Hin-weise auf relevante Stellen in Alpha und in Beta; sein Buch hätte jedoch deutlich an Substanz gewonnen, wenn er auch Delta in seine Übersetzung und Kommentierung einbezogen hätte.

K. beschreibt in seiner Einleitung (S. 11–18) in knapper und klarer Form den aus fünf Elementen bestehenden aristotelischen Kosmos. Er erörtert die notwendige Exis-tenz eines qualitätslosen und aus diesem Grund unveränderlichen ersten Körpers, welcher der einheitlichen Kreisbewegung des Universums zugrunde liegt, und er erklärt mit Bezug auf den Traktat De generatione et corruptione und das erste Buch der Meteorologica die Umwandlung der vier empedokleischen Elemente inei-nander durch die ungleiche Präsenz der vier Primärqualitäten (kalt, warm, trocken, feucht) in den zusammengesetzten Kör-pern; die Gesamtmenge der Elemente bleibt dabei jedoch konstant, so daß kein Element von einem anderen vollständig absorbiert werden kann. K. bezieht sich in seiner Einleitung auch kurz auf seine bei-den ‘häretischen’ Thesen (S. 17), die in der Fachwelt bisher eine eher zurückhaltende Rezeption gefunden haben: er behauptet zum einen, Aristoteles habe in De caelo (wenn man von dem später hinzugefügten Kapitel B 7 absieht) den Äther nur als Element der Fixsterne eingeführt – die fünf Planeten, die Sonne und der Mond beste-hen also wie bei Platon aus Feuer – und erst in den Meteorologica seine Theorie so weiterentwickelt, daß der Äther die gesam-te supralunare Sphäre umfaßt; zum anderen

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habe Aristoteles niemals geglaubt, daß die Lehre von den homozentrischen Sphären, die auf Eudoxos von Knidos zurückgeht, den tatsächlichen Aufbau des Himmels adäquat beschreibt. K.’ erste These findet offensichtlich einen Widerhall in seiner Interpretation der ersten Zeilen des Bu-ches: Περὶ μὲν οὖν τοῦ πρώτου οὐρανοῦ καὶ τῶν μερῶν, ἔτι δὲ περὶ τῶν ἐν αὐτῷ φερομένων ἄστρων ... διεληλύθαμεν πρότερον (Γ 1, 298a24–27). Laut K. (S. 33–34) ist hier mit πρῶτος οὐρανός der einzig-artige Stoff der äußeren, täglich umlaufen-den Sphäre der Fixsterne gemeint, während der Ausdruck τὰ μέρη die nördliche und die südliche Hemisphäre des Himmels betrifft, die Aristoteles in B 2, so K., als τὰ κατὰ τὰς διαστάσεις μόρια τοῦ πρώτου οὐρανοῦ bezeichnet. Allerdings ist m. E. in B 2 (285b33–286a2: περὶ μὲν οὖν τῶν κατὰ τὰς διαστάσεις μορίων καὶ τῶν κατὰ τόπον ὡρισμένων τοσαῦτα εἰρήσθω) nicht vom ‘ersten Himmel’, sondern vielmehr vom gesamten Universum die Rede. Ferner meint Κ. entgegen der Ansicht des Simpli-kios, daß sich τὰ φερόμενα ἄστρα nicht auf alle himmlischen Körper (scil. die Fixsterne und die sieben in der Antike bekannten Planeten), sondern ausschließlich auf die Fixsterne bezieht. Der Prolog zum Buch Gamma hat jedoch eine strukturelle und teilweise auch inhaltliche Parallele im Prolog zu den Meteorologica: Περὶ μὲν οὖν τῶν πρώτων αἰτίων τῆς φύσεως καὶ περὶ πάσης κινήσεως φυσικῆς, ἔτι δὲ περὶ τῶν κατὰ τὴν ἄνω φορὰν διακεκοσμημένων ἄστρων καὶ περὶ τῶν στοιχείων τῶν σωματικῶν, πόσα τε καὶ ποῖα, καὶ τῆς εἰς ἄλληλα μεταβολῆς, καὶ περὶ γενέσεως καὶ φθορᾶς τῆς κοινῆς εἴρηται πρότερον (338a19–25). Es kann kaum bezweifelt werden, daß die hier genannten körperli-chen Elemente, die sich ineinander um-wandeln und das allgemeine Entstehen und Vergehen begründen, die in De caelo Γ–Δ behandelten vier sublunaren Körper sind; wenn nun aber der zweite Gliedsatz, der allem Anschein nach eine Variation von τὰ ἐν τῷ πρώτῳ οὐρανῷ φερόμενα ἄστρα darstellt, sich nur auf die Fixsterne allein bezöge, dann ließe Aristoteles in der Zu-sammenfassung seiner Naturforschung die Planeten, die Sonne und den Mond uner-wähnt.

K.’s Übersetzung, die gut lesbar und ohne Fehler ist, basiert auf der Textausgabe von D. J. Allan (OCT, 1936). Die Ent-scheidung gegen die neuere Edition von Paul Moraux (Paris, 1965) wird nicht näher begründet. Man möchte vermuten, K. habe Morauxs tw. schwerwiegende editorische Eingriffe vermeiden wollen (So diskutiert er auf S. 54 kritisch die kühne Intervention Morauxs in 299b21–223). Auf S. 44 schlägt K. eine eigene Korrektur vor (299a6 ἐπεὶ τάδε statt ἔπειτα δὲ), um die Lesung des Passus 299a2–6 in dem apokryphen Traktat De lineis insecabilibus, 969b26–31, besser zu erklären. Es bleibt unklar, ob K. die solchermaßen rekonstruierte Variante für authentisch hält (er übernimmt sie aller-dings in seiner Übersetzung); sie scheint jedoch wenig überzeugend – die Verbin-dung ἐπεὶ τάδε δῆλον ὅτι τοῦ αὐτοῦ λόγου ἐστί wäre zumindest äußerst ungewöhn-lich. Der Kommentar ist gründlich und bietet zahlreiche Parallelstellen aus ver-schiedenen Werken des Aristoteles, anhand derer die Argumentation des Stagiriten besser nachvollzogen werden kann. Diese Parallelstellen sind jedoch von K. nicht übersetzt worden. Allgemein ist K. in seinem Kommentar mehr daran interes-siert, seine eigene Auslegung des aristoteli-schen Texts zu entfalten als dem Leser ein Hilfsinstrument zu bieten. Löblich ist allerdings, daß K. sich häufig mit dem Kommentar des Simplikios zu De caelo auseinandersetzt.

Das Buch ist sehr gut produziert und, soweit ich sehe, frei von Druckfehlern. Seine Benutzung ist jedoch dadurch in unnötiger Weise erschwert, daß die Einhei-ten des Kommentars nur durch die Angabe der Bekker-Zeilen und eine verkürzte Form des griechischen Textes eingeführt werden, während die Übersetzung im Abstand von je fünf Bekker-Zeilen durch-nummeriert ist. Das Buch kann auf diese Weise nicht gänzlich selbständig benutzt werden, ohne daß der Leser Allans Edition des griechischen Textes hinzuzieht.

Insgesamt liefert K. eine zuverläßige Übersetzung von De caelo Γ und vertieft trotz seiner teilweise zweifelhaften Inter-pretationen unser Verständnis von De caelo Γ. Man wünscht sich, daß K. sich bald mit De caelo Δ beschäftigen wird; so wie man sich gewünscht hätte, daß er seine

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‘häretischen’ Thesen gegen die ihnen zuteil gewordene Kritik verteidigt hätte. Berlin Pantelis Golitsis Tobias Thum: Plutarchs Dialog De E apud

Delphos. Eine Studie. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 2013. XIII, 390 S. (Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum. 80. Ratio Religionis Studien. 2.) 89 €.

First the reader, especially the non-German, should be warned that this is not easy going. T. writes in an elegant but rather old-fashioned periodic style. For example, the conclusion (363–364) of ca. 660 words, which includes a short sen-tence, still consists of an average of ca. 94 words per sentence. Many of the notes run for hundreds of words, and hundreds of lines of Greek, mostly in the notes, are not translated. Plutarchan scholars may be distressed to see that assertions they thought were unchallengeable truths, if not attacked, at least are put under intense scrutiny. It is good at times to challenge the communis opinio, and on several points, T. is right or at least demonstrates weak-nesses in an argument. This is, moreover, a very professional work, impeccably pro-duced and carefully thought out, followed by an excellent bibliography. It is not a commentary in the usual sense, though at times he makes textual comments (e.g., at 52). For this, see Obsieger’s impressive work, Plutarch. ‘De E apud Delphos’ (2013). T. has, instead, offered a philosoph-ical analysis of Plutarch’s dialogue.

After some preliminaries on the scholar-ship, text, scope of his own book and of the De E, the addressee, readership, and the conception of the dialogue (1–82), T. takes up the speeches of each persona. They must explicate why the Seven Sages donated to Delphi a famous representation of an Epsi-lon (in Plutarch’s day written as ΕΙ, and interpreted by the speakers as εἶ, the verb ‘You are’; the hypothetical conjunction εἰ, ‘if’; or in the wish, ‘if I could. . . ’). First, Plutarch’s brother Lamprias claims it represents the fifth letter of the alphabet and signifies the number of the Sages who dedicated it. The second, Nikandros, a priest at the shrine, relates it to the sup-posed beginning of an oracular consulta-

tion, ‘If I should. . .’ . The next, Theon, sees the epsilon (‘εἰ’ again) as the hypothetical opening clause of a syllogism, supposedly denoting the logical reasoning of Apollo. Eustrophios, the fourth speaker, then treats it as the mathematical pempad, ‘a great and sovereign’ number. This inspires the young Plutarch to offer a very complicated speech, the longest in the dialogue, in which he expounds in mainly Pythagorean terms the symbolism of the pempad in re-lation to Apollo. T. analyzes each speech, relating it to Plutarch’s other works, in particular Against Kolotes, and endorses Van der Stockt’s theories about ‘clusters’ and the use of hypomnemata (i.e., notes) (175). To Ammonios belongs the final and most exalted speech, slightly shorter than the ‘young Plutarch’s’. This is the most impressive and interesting to scholars. T., however, downplays this speech and gives more weight to the others than is normally done. Nonetheless, where he devotes to the first ones an average of about 20 pages, and to Plutarch’s 35, he reserves for Am-monios’ speech, the most controversial, 111 pages.

Most scholars, here and elsewhere, see in Plutarch’s works a progression toward a better or best solution, something Plutarch marks by signposts, such as ‘better is’, or by the next speaker pointing to defects in the previous exposition. In fact, in this dialogue, Ammonios undercuts the other speakers, and in particular the ‘young Plutarch’. Plutarch, the author, in fact, has represented his youthful self as philosophi-cally brilliant, though not yet belonging to the Academy (ἐν Ἀκαδημείᾳ γενόμενος) whatever that means, thus, ingenious but ingenuous. He even accepts the ekpyrosis (the cyclical dissolution of the world in fire [388F]), a doctrine held by the Stoics and abhorred by Ammonios here and Plutarch elsewhere. For T., however, each answer contributes toward presenting the question from multiple ‘points of view and perspec-tives’ (e.g. 96, 243, and 363). Thus, his approach is somewhat like that of Babut (JS 90, 1992, 187–234; rpt. in Parerga,1994), who understood all the speeches as work-ing together to form an artistic whole, but also as provocative rather than definitive (200; T., 12–14).

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T.’s major aim, then, is to demolish some current interpretations of the speech and its importance. First, he argues throughout that Ammonios is not repre-sentative of Plutarch’s own thought. This is a perfectly valid conclusion, if we take it to mean that Ammonios is not Plutarch’s spokesman or completely representative of Plutarch’s thought, a point particularly developed in Opsomer’s article on Ammo-nius in Bonazzi and Opsomer, eds., ‘The Origins of the Platonic System’, Leuven, 2009, 123–186, and myself, most recently, in Studia Philonica Annual 26, 2014, 79–92. More revolutionary, in the light of modern scholarship, especially that of Dillon, Baltes, Ferrari, Hirsch-Luipold, Opsomer, and ultimately owing much to Whittaker (‘Ammonius on the Delphic E’, CQ 19, 1969, 185–192; rpt., 1984) is T.’s contention that the speech owes nothing to Alexandri-an or Middle Platonism, in particular, to Eudoros, and that the doctrine of the One and the flux can be explained primarily through recourse to Parmenides, Hera-kleitos, and Plutarch’s own interpretation in On the Generation of the Soul in the Timaios (esp. 258–279; 185–190, 280–285). In fact, however, Plutarch’s commentary was possibly influenced by Eudoros, whom he cites, and by other Platonists of his day. T. also doubts that Ammonios came from Alexandria (but see Op-somer, 123). Dillon’s reconstruction of Plutarch’s thought may have fit too nicely into his conception of the development of Middle Platonism, and Opsomer has shown that Whittaker had read too much Pythagoreanism into the speech, at the expense of Platonism (168). So there is some ground for re-evaluation. T., moreo-ver, does not see Plutarch as very religious himself or attempting to promote religious ideas, such as monotheism (19, 20, 25, 121). In contrast, most Plutarchan scholars have seen a strong tendency toward monothe-ism in his works (cf. Platonic Question 2, not a dialogue). Many, such as Hani (‘La religion égyptienne dans la pensée de Plu-tarque’, Paris, 1976, 467) have regarded him not only as deeply religious, but as an outstanding historian of religion. T., ac-cording to his premises, rejects the posi-tion, represented, for example, by Hirsch-Luipold, that Ammonios presents a per-

sonal, religious God, similar to that of Philo of Alexandria (9–11, 249–250). On a minor point, T. argues that at 393A it is eternity ‘of which there is no earlier nor later’ and ‘being one (εἷς ὤν) has with one now completely filled forever’, not God, as often understood and translated (251–253). However, the primary subject of the para-graph and of the main clause is God. So the point still seems debatable.

The common strand in the speech, which is usually attributed to Alexandrian and Middle Platonism, consists of the depiction of God as Being, and represented in impersonal and personal terms (τὸ ὄν and, not explicitly but implied, ὁ ὤν; and One or The One (τὸ ἕν; and εἷς or εἷς καὶ μόνος). There is also an extreme contrast between God and the phenomenal word, including humans who are said to have no real participation in being. Somewhat peculiar to T. is the idea that Ammonios’ description of the flux of the phenomenal world reflects its state when governed by the mindless precosmic soul, as in On the Generation of the Soul, though he builds on ideas in Ferrari (T., 326–342). This is in spite of Ammonios’ later assertion of the providential role of God in maintaining the cosmic order, including rejection of the Stoic idea of ekpyrosis (393E–394A), though T. notes the inconsistencies in the speech. T., however, finds Ammonios’ ideas so contradictory to those in Plu-tarch’s other works, that the speech de-serves no more weight or credence than the others (e.g. 4–11, 25).

T.’s parallels with Plutarch’s other writ-ings are often very interesting. However, there are some problems with his major argument. First, the parallels with Alexan-drian Platonism or later Middle Platonism are probably too striking to convince most Plutarchan scholars to abandon their posi-tion, which is well-argued by Opsomer. Nowhere does Plutarch identify God with Being or with One so explicitly as here (though on God as Being and as one, see Obsieger, 351, in reference to On Isis, 372F and 373B). In any case, there is no reason to believe that Plutarch would reject the formulation. In contrast, for example, in On Tranquility of Mind (473D), he explic-itly rejects the concept of the world as in continual flux, especially as applied to

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human beings. On a minor note, T. often refers to this God as Apollo (also Apollo-Sun in the dialogue), but Plutarch makes it clear that Apollo, or Apollo-Sun, or the sun, is simply a weak image of the supreme God, whom he describes in Middle Platon-ic terms (393D–E). The conception paral-lels that in the treatise On Isis and Osiris, where Osiris represents the supreme God, apparently with the attributes of the Pla-tonic form of the Good (374F–375A). Another passage in On Isis and Osiris, has also been much neglected. In this, God rules the universe through His ‘powers’ (δυνάμεις ὑπουργοί), presumably the gods and daimones (377F–378A). Similar termi-nology was used by Philo. Thus, here too we find a great, essential distance in being, between God and the other spiritual enti-ties, and even more so between God and human beings, though without the rhetori-cal excess of On the E at Delphi.

T. might have written a literary critique of this brilliant dialogue of the Second Sophistic. If so, the irony and gentle humor of the work would have more strikingly emerged, in particular the inherent tenden-cy in Plutarch’s characters, to start out well but ultimately fall victim to exaggeration. Milwaukee Frederick E. Brenk Aaron P. Johnson: Religion and Identity

in Porphyry of Tyre: The Limits of Hel-lenism in Late Antiquity. Cambridge: Cambridge UP 2013. IX, 374 S. (Greek Culture in the Roman World.) 65 £.

This is a welcome addition to the small store of studies of the philosopher Porphyry in English. The comprehensive modern work on Porphyry’s philosophy as a whole remains to be written, but this is certainly an important contribution to our understanding of what one might call his ‘philosophy of religion’ and his ethno-graphic theory.

After an introduction, the book is divid-ed into two main parts, (1) ‘A World Full of Gods: Porphyry the Theologian’, pp. 53–185; and (2) A World Full of Nations: Porphyry the Ethnographer, pp. 189–299. These are followed by an Epilogue, on ‘Translation after Porphyry’, and two appendices, the first listing the fragments

of Porphyry being utilised, and the second providing translations of the more im-portant ones. It should be noted in this connection that the term ‘translation’, in the body of the work, is used by Johnson (hereinafter J.) in a rather technical socio-logical sense, to refer to the ‘transferral’ or re-interpretation of traditional beliefs and rituals in terms of Porphyry’s Platonist philosophy. The first part of the book involves ‘vertical translation’, of religious symbols and practices into philosophical terms, while the second involves ‘horizon-tal translation’, as between the various national cultures and traditions of the Roman Empire (and beyond).

In the Introduction, entitled ‘At the Limits of Hellenism’, J. first of all sets the scene for his subsequent discussion, focus-ing in particular on the connotations of the term ‘Hellene’, and then gives a survey of Porphyry’s life and works, emphasising at every stage the exegetical difficulties of dealing with a large body of disparate fragments, many of them quoted by au-thors, such as Eusebius and Augustine, by no means well-disposed towards Por-phyry. In the case of some works, as we know, such as the De Regressu Animae and the Contra Christianos, there have been persistent arguments denying their separate existence – rebuffed in both cases by J. There is also the fragmentary Anonymous Commentary on the Parmenides, which J. resolves to set aside altogether. This last decision I regard as a pity, though one cannot fault his general principles. I was sceptical of it myself for many years. But have now come to accept it, both on grounds of terminology and of doctrine.

The first part of the main body of the work consists of three chapters. In the first, J. endeavours to set out the details of Porphyry’s philosophical system (being, as it is, a development of the Platonism of Plotinus). Here, his resolve to be conserva-tive as to sources, I fear, rather hampers his exposition of what does seem to be an important feature of Porphyry’s metaphys-ics, his theory of the dual role of the One, both as totally transcendent first principle, and as ‘father of the noetic triad’, a stance uniquely his, and which, I feel sure, was a considerable (though unacknowledged) stimulus to Christian Trinitarian doctrine.

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Such a text as Proclus, In Parm. 1070, 15ff. Cousin is actually of great importance in this connection (together with the Anon. Comm.), and should not be neglected, even though it does not name Porphyry.

However, this is a small detail. In gen-eral, he does an excellent job, in ch. 3, ‘Salvation, translation and the limits of cult’, in uncovering Porphyry’s position in such troublesome texts as The Philosophy from Oracles, where mis-evaluations have resulted from an insufficiently critical attitude to the two main sources, Eusebius and Augustine, both of whom are using the text for their own polemical purposes. J. argues, plausibly, that Porphyry is not really approving the practices, especially animal sacrifice, prescribed in a number of the oracles, which would totally conflict with his stance in the De Abstinentia, but rather indulging in ‘vertical translation’ of them, with the help of allegorization, a process obscured in the sources. Also, though Porphyry was distinctly more interested in proposing ‘ways of salvation’ to a larger public than was his master Plo-tinus, J. is right to remind us that this is still for a fairly small elite; Porphyry is really not in direct competition with Chris-tianity.

In ch. 4, ‘The master reader: contexts of translation’, he focuses on Porphyry’s pe-dagogical and exegetical roles, as a compo-ser of introductions (eisagogai) and com-mentaries, once again in distinction to Plo-tinus, thus emphasising the great learning which Porphyry brought to the task of philosophical ‘translation’, as well as his concern with teaching.

The second Part begins with a chapter (‘Knowledge and nations: Porphyry’s ethnic argumentation’) surveying Por-phyry’s very extensive knowledge and use of material concerning the cultic activities and dietary habits of a wide swathe of nations, as part of his project of what J. terms ‘horizontal translation’. Unlike Plo-tinus, who had no discernible interest in such questions, Porphyry was much con-cerned, and well informed, as to the dis-tinctive habits and beliefs of the nations making up the Greco-Roman world and its periphery (such as the Scythians, Persians, Chaldaeans, Egyptians, Jews, or Indians). J. takes us through both his treatment of the

various ethnê, or rather their priestly elites, as exempla, as well as his employment of ‘ethnographic doxographies’ in order to illustrate variations in custom.

In ch. 6 (‘Ethnic particularism and the limits of Hellenism’), he focuses on Porphyry’s employment of the concept of ‘barbarian wisdom’, suggesting that his relative lack of ‘Hellenocentricity’ is a result of his Phoenician provenance. In this connection, he adduces two previous au-thors from that region, the historian Philo of Byblos and the rhetorician Maximus of Tyre, pointing to their similarities and differences. Here an important issue that J. addresses, and argues against persuasively, is the long-standing idea that some of Por-phyry’s writings (notably the Philosophy from Oracles) exhibit a pre-Plotinian ‘su-perstitious’ mind-set which he subsequent-ly repudiated. Because of the (hostile) nature of the quotations of the Philosophy from Oracles, (mainly from Eusebius), we simply do not know what was Porphyry’s interpretation of most of the oracles quot-ed.

In ch. 7 (‘The way home: transcending particularism’), J. turns to an examination of how Porphyry employs the religious traditions of his various favoured nations (including, it should be emphasized, the Jews), in the interest of demonstrating their contribution to our understanding of the means of ascent to the divine realm, as the purpose of all philosophy. As he points out, the praise of Jewish wisdom may be partly conditioned by Porphyry’s concern to denigrate the Christians as not remain-ing true to ‘their own’ traditions (a criti-cism previously directed at them by Cel-sus), as well as attacking everyone else’s.

In relation to the second Part as a whole, my only demurral would be with the valid-ity of the rather sophisticated conceptual framework that J. erects around the various aspects of Porphyry’s engagement with the nations around him. It seems to me that he may be imputing to Porphyry a greater degree of subtlety and ethnological con-sciousness than he in fact attained. Certain-ly Porphyry on the one hand draws exten-sively on the ancient wisdom of such na-tions as the Egyptians, Chaldaeans or Jews, and on the other hand is well informed (as exhibited particularly in the De Absti-

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nentia) as to the reprehensible dietary and other habits of a wide variety of nations, including the Greeks and Romans, but in both of these attitudes he has a long tradi-tion behind him; it does not seem to me necessary to suppose that he had con-sciously framed a role for himself in rela-tion to Greek culture and the Roman state, or that, being though he was of Phoenician provenance (and even sporting the Semitic name of Malchus), he saw himself as any kind of ethnic ‘outsider’; it is rather as a Platonic philosopher that he presents a critique of everyday life.

That said, though, this is a book warmly to be welcomed. It is constantly enlighten-ing and thought-provoking, and serves to bring to our attention the many facets of this remarkable man. Dublin John Dillon Matthias Becker: Eunapios aus Sardes.

Biographien über Philosophen und So-phisten. Einleitung, Übersetzung, Kommentar. Stuttgart: Steiner 2013. 667 S. (Roma Aeterna 1.) 82 €.

In the last few years the ancient accounts of the lives of pagan philosophers have at-tracted renewed attention with an emphasis on trying to understand their structure and purpose from their own context rather than using them simply as a quarry for ex-tracting biographical information. This detailed commentary on Eunapius’ Lives of the Philosophers and Sophists is a contribu-tion to that trend and thus a welcome addition to the latest interpretations of Eunapius’ work. It is a substantial volume consisting of an informative introduction, a translation and a very extensive commen-tary. There is no Greek text, but its omis-sion is understandable as it would have made the volume too bulky to handle easily. Thankfully, however, the Greek text is liberally cited as lemmas in the commen-tary so that it is not always necessary to look at a separate text to understand com-ments which require an awareness of the original phraseology.

Eunapius (347–414 AD) claimed to be a Neoplatonist of the Iamblichean tradition. He was a pupil of Chrysanthius and of the Christian Proheiresias who taught rhetoric

in Athens. Moreover Chrysanthius’ teacher Aedesius had been a pupil of Iamblichus, thus providing Eunapius with sound cre-dentials for writing an account of the school of Iamblichus from the viewpoint of a citizen of Sardis which could boast an active philosophical tradition at this time. In fact Eunapius is in some respects curi-ously parochial. He nowhere mentions Themistius or Hypatia and seems to be unaware of the more serious philosophical activity in Athens. In his introduction Becker usefully summarises the present scholarly assessment of Eunapius’ work and clearly points out its place in a period of expanding Christianity and contracting paganism. But although Eunapius himself openly admits the ascendency of Christian-ity Becker is right to stress that he is far from being in despair about the utility and the future of the sort of pagan philosophi-cal lifestyle which he advocates through the lives he presents.

Interestingly Becker argues strongly for regarding the work, not so much as a com-pendium of individual lives of a purely hagiographical nature but as continuing the tradition of histories of philosophy (for example that of Porphyry). This intention is seen both in his intent to highlight the role of Sardis and his identification of periods when philosophy flourished (see 2,14–23; 5,5–16); he points to three distinct periods: the Presocratrics and Plato, the Middle-Platonists, and finally the Neopla-tonists commencing with Plotinus. It is this phase that he wishes to write up; hence he begins with Plotinus (Proclus, too, in the Platonic Theology I.1., sees Plotinus as the beginning of a new phase). This, in itself, is interesting since recent work on Porphyry, for example, has tended to bring back into focus the continuity Plotinus’ ‘successor’ represents with the Middle-Platonic tradi-tion. It might not have seemed clear to contemporaries of Porphyry, at least, that a new era had begun with Plotinus. But by the time of Eunapius this seemed more obvious. Becker emphasises this important historical concern of Eunapius both in his introduction and throughout the commen-tary. It is clear that the rather summary account of Plotinus, important as he is for Eunapius as the founding figure of the renewed Platonic tradition, suggests that

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Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus was readily available to Eunapius’ readers. We might also be inclined to think that Eunapius’ account of Porphyry had no great utility since its information is entirely taken from Porphyry’s own works. But Becker care-fully reveals in the commentary how Eun-apius has moulded and recast this infor-mation for his own purposes. This is partly a matter of emphasis; for example, the prominence given to his universal knowledge and scholarship and the clarity of his writing, all pointers to the notion of Hellenic paideia and culture which is a vital aspect of the lives, which, we should remember, are of both philosophers and sophists or, better, of the two combined, and which he wishes to present to us as models. Becker notes, too, that Plotinus is accorded greater importance than Longi-nus for the life of Porphyry. He is a holy man, a source of divine inspiration. Indeed even the incident recorded by Porphyry himself when Plotinus detected his depres-sion and advised him to take a break in Sicily is elaborated, we might even say distorted, by Eunapius who has Plotinus following Porphyry to Sicily to save him from impending suicide. I think Becker is right here to see this not as a mistaken interpretation but a deliberate manipula-tion of the material to heighten the impact of Plotinus. This account together with the implication that Porphyry continued the school of Plotinus in Rome is intended to establish Porphyry as clearly second in the chain of connections which stretch from Plotinus to Eunapius’ contemporaries. And last, but not least, we have the considerable attention given to Porphyry’s commitment to pagan religious practice, even to the extent of ascribing an exorcism to him. All of this is, of course, an important element in the lives of the successors of Porphyry as Eunapius describes them. Religious and theurgic experience forms part of the broader concept of the θεῖος ἀνήρ, an idea that goes right back to the Presocratics. And ὁμοίωσις τῷ θεῷ too is an essential part of the Platonic tradition. None of this is just a pale imitation of Christianity. And despite Plotinus’ own reticence in matters of cult and theurgy, he too might rightly be counted as a θεῖος ἀνήρ. Becker points out (p.160) the import of the description of

Apollonius as ‘no longer a philosopher’ in a note to 3,4–9 as implying ὁμοίωσις τῷ θεῷ. The same may be said of Plotinus who in Ennead V.3. 4, 11–2 claims that the philosopher as he ascends beyond the level of discursive reason to that of intellect, does so ‘no longer as man’.

This characterisation of the work as his-torical is also used as an argument against the theory that it is a mere reaction against Christianity and an attempt to produce pagan hagiographies to rival those of the Christian saints. Becker is careful not to rule out altogether any notion of imitation and rivalry, but his main point is, I think, valid and important. For not only the genre but the whole concept of the philosophical life as portrayed by Eunapius as by other pagan philosophers (e.g., Porphyry, Iamblichus, Marinus, Damascius) is a natural expression of their philosophical principles and one which has a long history from before the advent of Christianity.

Becker also notes throughout the work the importance given to the practical eve-ryday life of the philosopher and his con-tribution to the community, an ideal en-capsulated in the term ‘Philanthropia’ which he again rightly stresses is not just an imitation of a Christian concept but an integral part of Platonic service to the community, the return to the cave. The details of this practical manifestation of philosophy which Becker adverts to in his introduction and illustrates throughout the commentary is a further contribution to the rehabilitation of the importance of practical ethics for the Neoplatonists, a theme which has received considerable attention in the last few years. A neat example is picked out in the life of Porphyry: great stress is laid on Porphyry’s search for solitude and escape from the body, even to the extent of sui-cide from which he is held back by Ploti-nus. All of this is seen as a crisis and turn-ing point which leads to the realisation of a higher reality and a conversion to it. There is a return then from extreme asceticism. This is emphasised still more by the fact that he returns to Rome and ‘even’ gives public lectures (Becker neatly notes here the import of καί). The Platonic philoso-pher is presented in these lives then as a metaphysician, a holy man both in the

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sense of a mystic and religiously involved, and as a highly educated, civic minded, and articulate embodiment of all that is best in Hellenic culture.

This excellent volume is equipped with an extensive bibliography, an index of ancient passages cited, names, places and subjects. All in all a useful compendium to guide one through the main themes of Eunapius and to provide assistance in understanding the meaning and back-ground of many otherwise obscure details. Dublin Andrew Smith Proclus, Commentaire sur le Parménide de

Platon. Tome IV. 1re partie: Livre IV. 2e partie: Notes complémentaires et index du livre IV par Concetta Luna et Alain-Philippe Segonds †. Paris: Les Belles Lettres 2013. CXLIII, 570 z.T. Doppels. (Collection des Universités de France. Association Guillaume Budé.) 135 €.

The work under review contains a new critical edition of the fourth book of Pro-clus’ commentary on the Parmenides. The detailed introduction in the first volume divides into two chapters. First the editors offer an elaborate and clear description of Proclus’ argument (ix–lxxvii). Interpreta-tions are confined to the volume with notes. The second chapter (lxxix–cxx) contains critical notes with four appen-dices: the first contains both the versions of the manuscripts AFRGWP without as-sessing their significance and a list of cer-tain points of orthographical interest, the second is about the isolated readings of manuscript A (Parisinus graecus 1810, a crucial manuscript of which the relation to the other family of manuscripts descending from the hyparchetype Σ constitutes the main ground for feud with the scholars contributing to the rival, Oxford edition of the commentary), the third deals with the aberrant readings of Moerbeke’s Latin translation, and the fourth gives a long list of the divergences from the Oxford text. Finally, the editors provide corrections to volumes I and III, some are concerned with the Greek text, some with the translation. Most of them are offered in response to the suggestions made by Carlos Steel, who is

responsible for the Oxford edition.1 Of the 87 points of his criticism four have been accepted. This supplementary material also contains a short rejection of his proposal to reconstruct the history of the text.

The second volume contains the notes and the indices. As for the notes, they are copious and rich in philological details with ample references to parallels in Pro-clus and in other Neoplatonists. For those who are familiar with the earlier volumes, it may come as no surprise that many of the notes contain detailed criticism of the Oxford text. I do not think I can add any-thing important to the dispute in general terms. Instead, I confine myself to a few particular passages with an emphasis on philosophical issues as well (references are to page and line of Cousin’s second edition of 1864).

883.27–28: Proclus’ critique on material-istic theories contains a passage against those who claim that ἐκ τῆς συμμίξεως αὐτὰ [scil. τὰ εἴδη σωματικά] τῶν ἁπλῶν στοιχείων ὑφίστασθαι. If the reference is to the Epicureans indeed (p. 347, n. 11) then the expression ἁπλῶν στοιχείων may not be pleonastic. The Epicureans can talk about elements in two senses. The true elementary entities are the atoms. They are simple, whereas fire, air, water and earth, also considered as elements, are made up of homogeneous atomic structures.

893.18–22: In a short epistemological section we read that τὸ γὰρ ἐκ τῶν αἰσθητῶν λαμβανόμενον φάντασμά ἐστι καὶ οὐ δοξαστόν. In this formulation φάντασμα cannot refer to a concept which is derived from sensible objects (p. 369, n. 3). Concepts are made by the rational faculties and φαντασία does not belong to them. The reference to in Eucl. 45.8 (τὰ ἀπὸ τῶν αἰσθητῶν φαντάσματα) does not support the claim. It seems that the nature of φάντασμα is pictorial in so far as it is an image or representation (see 994.36–37). The passage itself does not make it clear whether we are dealing here either with a prolonged perceptual image (it exists after sense-perception and retains its reference

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– 1 C. Steel, ‘Corrections and hypercorrec-

tions: on the recent edition of Proclus’ commentary on the Parmenides’, Aevum 87 (2013), 215–248.

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to a single individual, thus serving the basis for memory) or with a representation which may behave like a universal (like an image of the horse, for instance). As Pro-clus’ note is an allusion to Phaedrus 249B7–C1 (ἐκ πολλῶν ἰὸν αἰσθήσεων εἰς ἓν λογισμῷ συναιρούμενον) where Plato discusses the role of ἀνάμνησις in concept formation, it would be highly interesting to dwell on the question why Proclus brings φάντασμα into the Platonic picture.

916.39–917.1: The discussion of the two types of causes (δι’ ὧν and μεθ’ ὧν) may fail to qualify the cause μεθ’ ὧν precisely (p. 409–410, n.1). Whereas δι’ ὧν refers to instrumental cause, it is less clear what μεθ’ ὧν refers to. Luna-Segonds take it as ac-companying cause, although its role re-mains unclear. Proclus says that the more general Forms work by means of similitude and dissimilitude, while the individual ones (such as Man and Horse, which cannot be divided into further Forms) work with similitude and dissimilitude. Therefore, similitude and dissimilitude extend to everything, even if to some as instrumental cause, as towards the superior beings, while to others as μεθ’ ὧν, as towards the inferi-ors. They are in between the most generic and the individual Forms (914.22–24). The texts adduced as parallels (in Tim. 2. 271.4–8; 3. 225.26–226.18) do not mention causes μεθ’ ὧν and the list of causes there does not contain any allusion to accompanying cause either. They may be auxiliary or co-operating causes, the latter playing an equal role in the process of causation. Proclus’ explanation may support the first option since as causes μεθ’ ὧν similitude and dissimilitude do not constitute the essence of those to which they extend (917.2–4).

924.18–20: Proclus discusses the role of δόξα and says that it grasps the nature of the objects of sense from a superior per-spective, whereas it apprehends the object of knowledge from an inferior perspective. It is obvious, then, that δόξα knows the objects of sense in a superior way (p. 425, n. 6) but one may be more specific here. The superior way of knowing such objects is nothing but knowing their essence (οὐσία, see in Tim. 1. 248.11–13) because it is endowed with the innate λόγοι and therefore it is capable of identifying the λόγοι in sense-perceptions (in Tim. 1.

249.21–22) by comparing them to its own λόγοι. Of course, it is not a kind of defini-tional knowledge since it is incapable of knowing the true nature of the thing in question. It is only the τὸ κρῖνον ἐν ἡμῖν (in Tim. 1. 249.29) which identifies objects of past perceptions with objects perceived now and may name them.

937.25: The emendation of ὑπέδειξεν to ἀπέδειξεν may be not necessary (p. 450, n. 5). The latter term is used to mean ‘to prove’ or ‘to demonstrate’ in the technical sense, whereas the former lacks this kind of strict use. It does not seem that the term λόγοι must mean demonstrative arguments here, the term may simply refer to an indication and therefore the use of ὑπέδειξεν may be justified.

957.38: συνεπινεύει mss. Steel; conspirat Moerbeke. Following their general prac-tice, Luna and Segonds suggest that Moer-beke must have read συμπνεῖ which they think the correct reading (p. 494, n. 1). As far as I can see it, their suggestion is clearly not to be rejected off-hand, although phil-osophically speaking the ms. reading συνεπινεύει might be more promising because it does not only state that the different kinds of desires and the life-principle responsible for our awareness of them run in tandem, which συμπνεῖ may imply, but it also makes it clear that the life-principle is specifically directed to-wards the objects of these desires and this is how awareness is possible. As a supple-mentary note, here one may add that Pro-clus credits a single capacity or part of the rational soul with apprehending psychic activities. In his commentary on the Chal-daean Oracles he calls it προσοχή (in Phil. Chald. 4.55–56 = 211.1–4 [Des Places]), whereas the fragments of his partial com-mentary on Plotinus’ Enneads have προσεκτικὸν μέρος (§ 16).1

958.11: τὸ ἐγὼ καὶ τὸ ἐνεργῶ Cousin2; ἐγὼ τὸ καὶ τὸ ἐνεργῶ Steel, Luna-Segonds. The passage is crucial in understanding Proclus’ conception of consciousness. In Cousin’s version the text says that in ap-prehending psychic activities such as de-

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– 1 The fragments have been published in

L. G. Westerink, ‘Excerpte aus Proklos’ Enneadenkommentar bei Psellos’, Byzan-tinische Zeitschrift 52 (1959), 1–10.

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sires and thinking the reflexive capacity is ‘saying in the case of each «It is I who am doing this» and «I am acting»’. The text printed by Steel and Luna-Segonds can be translated as follows: ‘saying in the case of each «I do this or that»’. On the use of τὸ καὶ τὸ Luna-Segonds (p. 495) refer us to R. Kühner – B. Gerth, ‘Ausführliche Gram-matik der griechischen Sprache, Zweiter Teil: Satzlehre’, 2 Bde. Hannover-Leipzig: Hahn, 1898–19043 (repr. in Hannover: Hahn, 1992), § 459, p. 505–6. On the other hand, Cousin’s version may better empha-size the character of the reflexive capacity; that it is both the centre of consciousness and aware of the activity itself. It is capable of reflecting on both the subject and object side of the conscious process. It may do it in acts that are somehow distinct. Howev-er, this version is not noted in the critical apparatus which might mean that it has not been supported by the mss. Piliscsaba Peter Lautner Nora Goldschmidt: Shaggy Crowns.

Ennius’ Annales and Virgil’s Aeneid. Oxford: Oxford UP 2013. X, 258 S. (Oxford Classical Monographs.).

Nora Goldschmidt (=G.) has given us a valuable study of how Virgil worked with his main father-figure in Latin epic, Enni-us; but she has given us much more, for her book sheds a lot of light on commemora-tion and exemplarity in Roman culture in general, and on the role that Ennian and then Virgilian epic played in those func-tions. In a way, as she declares from the outset, her book is a return to the only previous book on Ennius and Virgil, Edu-ard Norden’s great experiment in using Virgil to reconstruct Ennius, published almost exactly a century ago (‘Ennius und Vergilius: Kriegsbilder aus Roms großer Zeit’ [Leiden, 1915]). Yet she has a differ-ent agenda and methodology, and is far more sceptical about the possibility of recovering Ennian narratives from the reworkings of his epic successor – even though she does follow most modern scholarship in accepting the basic success of Norden’s reading of the outbreak of war in Aeneid 7 against the outbreak of war in Annales 7 (pp.133–9).

The complexity and sophistication of the early Roman epic tradition emerge very clearly from G.’s subtle readings. She does not give us a reductive image of Ennius in order to make Virgil look more modern, nor does she subscribe to the reductive image of Livius Andronicus and Naevius that Ennius was already creating in order to boost his own authority. She argues very convincingly that Livius and Naevius are already self-consciously cultivating archa-ism in their epics as a way of conjuring «oldness» as a poetic and moral value; when Ennius intervenes to trumpet his new brand of modernism, he also has to try and coopt the prestige of priority and age that accrued to his predecessors. This nuanced background gives particular power to her analysis of Virgil’s ambition of being both new and old, Greek and native. Virgil, like Ennius, wants to be both modern and antique – in fact, he wants to be both more modern and more antique than Ennius, «inventing himself as a new, polished poet, but also one who is fundamentally archaic» (p.66). G. gives a number of rich readings of passages where Virgil «pre-writes» Ennius, contriving to make his narratives «anticipate» those of the earlier poet, thus outplaying Ennius in the antiquity-game that he had played with Livius and Naevi-us. Virgil’s tour of the future site of Rome in Aeneid 8 is a particularly strong case, for Virgil’s primeval setting trumps Ennius’ commemoration of the revered monuments of the historical urban landscape (pp.90–100).

G. situates her whole discussion within the framework of Roman commemoration and exploitation of the past, making valua-ble use of recent classical scholarship that itself draws on such major paradigms as the ‘lieux de mémorie’ of Pierre Nora or the ‘mémoire collective’ of Maurice Halbwachs. Exemplarity was a distinctive-ly important element of Roman memorial culture, and G. has a very good chapter on ‘Epic examples’ in which she vividly brings out the dynamic and destructive nature of Virgil’s work with Ennian exemplarity: here she is able to get formalist intertextu-ality to work with sociological models of how societies remember and forget, as she reveals the way that Virgil deliberately «undermines» «the authority of the An-

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nales as the canonical epic repository of the exemplary Roman past» (p.179).

Chapter 4, ‘Punica’, focuses on the cru-cial significance of the experience of the Carthaginian wars in Roman history and literary history. Here G. brings out the importance of Sicily as the cockpit for the first war between Carthage and Rome, showing how the island’s prominence in Livius’ translation of the Odyssey and in Naevius’ Bellum Punicum is acknowledged in Ennius’ Annales and then becomes vital in Books 1, 3 and 5 of the Aeneid. Her book is very topical in this regard, as in so many others: note the article of Matthew Leigh on the «maritime moment» in the first Roman epics (ClPh 105 (2010), 265–80), and the recent volume on the Hellenis-tic West, especially Sicily, edited by J.R. Prag and J.C. Quinn, which was published at the same time as G.’s book (‘The Hellen-istic West: Rethinking the Ancient Medi-terranean’ [Cambridge, 2013]).

All in all, G.’s book is a fine example of contemporary Latin scholarship – theoreti-cally aware, historically informed, and critically sharp. Writing in this journal, I should also remark that G. shows a famili-arity with German scholarship that is not to be taken for granted in Anglophone publications. Princeton Denis Feeney Anja Behrendt: Mit Zitaten kommunizie-

ren. Untersuchungen zur Zitierweise in der Korrespondenz des Marcus Tullius Cicero. Rahden/Westf.: Verlag Marie Leidorf 2013. 382 S. 14 Ab. (Litora Clas-sica. 6.) 49,80 €.

Cicero’s letters abound in quotations from Greek and Latin poetry, a fact worthy of scholarly investigation and one that raises a great number of interesting questions. In addition to speculating as to why Cicero chose, in each and every case, to insert text by another author into his correspondence, we may ask ourselves what poets and works are quoted, to which addressees, and in what contexts; how Cicero’s quotation practice in his letters differs from that in his other works, or from that of other Roman letter writers; and what his quota-tions tell us about the literary education

and reading practices of Cicero in particu-lar and the educated elite of the late Repub-lic in general. Unfortunately, the book under review, by Anja Behrendt (B.), provides but few answers, being restricted largely to the structural analysis of Cicero’s quotations within the communicative space of the letters in which they appear.

After an introduction with a historia quaestionis (Section I), B. defines her topic (II.1) and lays out her methodology (II.2–4). She then proceeds to offer a number of interpretations of individual Ciceronian letters and the quotations therein. These are arranged in three groups according to a detailed typology: the examples in III.1 are meant to demonstrate different pragmatic functions of Cicero’s epistolary quotations, while Sections III.2 and III.3 are con-cerned, respectively, with their form and content. The very short conclusion (IV) is followed by a lengthy appendix that lists and classifies by type those quotations not discussed in the bulk of the text.

B.’s basic approach is perfectly reasona-ble. She considers quotation to be a form of intertextuality and a specific mode of generating meaning. If a letter is an encod-ed message (just like any other communi-cative utterance), then the ‘alien speech’ that is the quotation functions as an addi-tional code at one remove. Quotations are thus not merely ornamental, or marks of the author’s erudition, but play an im-portant role in the communication between author and addressee: for the quotation to ‘work’, the reader must be able to decipher it according to the writer’s intentions, a complex process that hinges on a number of factors.

B. spends an inordinate amount of effort on theorizing her commonsensical model with reference to various methodologies from the fields of textual linguistics and communication studies (the names of Peter Stocker and Jörg Helbig loom especially large). As a result of this, she is stuck with cumbersome jargon (e.g., «[s]emantische Akzentverschiebung zwischen Digres-sions- und Regressionsphase», 172) and mind-numbing subdivisions (the scary chart on p. 48, entitled «Grundkonstella-tionen von Produktion und Rezeption für das Zitat», might put a person off quoting for the rest of her life) – without, as far as I

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can tell, getting any payoff in terms of insight or argument. Even beyond this Byzantine edifice of theory, B. seems in-spired by a classificatory fervor, a wish to conquer her subject matter by dividing it. It thus turns out that there are five func-tions of the Ciceronian epistolary quota-tion, as well as a confusing number of ways to create typologies according to a quota-tion’s form and content.

Some of B.’s categories seem fair enough. It certainly appears to be the case that in quoting from poetry, Cicero often comments on people or situations; aims to support a specific argument; engages in conflict management; and/or employs strategies of affiliative or redressive polite-ness (B. borrows the last two terms from J. Hall’s ‘Politeness and Politics in Cicero’s Letters’, 2009). It is also true that quota-tions sometimes appear at the beginning or end of letters; that some break off in the middle of a syntactic unit and others di-verge from their original wording; that certain quotations rely on a detailed know-ledge of the original context to be properly understood while others seem to be mere tags; etc. etc. What remains unclear, how-ever, at least to this reviewer, is how chop-ping up Cicero’s epistolary corpus into these minute types and subtypes is sup-posed to lead to any larger insight into the author’s citation practice as a whole. It is a classic example of missing the forest for the trees.

Many of the book’s weaknesses can be ascribed to the fact that it is a dissertation, published, like many German doctoral theses, in a «leicht überarbeitete Fassung» (5). Despite superficial similarities, a disser-tation is not a scholarly monograph but belongs to a genre of its own. To put it in the most simplistic terms, the dissertation is defined by its topic or subject matter, often a set of data or texts that the author is attempting to master; by contrast, the monograph (ideally) aims to present an argument. Thus, in keeping with her genre, B. is not in the first place endeavoring to make a point or points about Cicero; in-stead, she is, as it were, simply ‘studying’, albeit with great diligence, the dozens of poetic quotations in the Roman writer’s ample epistolary corpus. But while such research is a worthwhile undertaking in

and of itself, and is of course a prerequisite for any serious scholarly argument, the only thing that is of consequence to the reader, as opposed to the author, is the new insight gained from any such study.

This is not to say that B.’s work lacks individual points of interest. Her close readings of selected letters often contain good observations and ought to be con-sulted by anyone working on these texts. However, caveat lector: even when discuss-ing the specifics of a particular letter, B. on occasion lets herself be driven astray by her classificatory impulse, misreading Cicero’s text in order to make it fit her categories.

B.’s interpretation of Fam. 3.7, to Ap-pius Claudius Pulcher, is a case in point (140–8). One of the most difficult issues with which any interpreter of quotations and other intertextual phenomena has to struggle is the extent to which the original context of a quoted or evoked passage needs to be taken into account in its inter-pretation. B. attempts to cut through the problem by positing a division between ‘selective’ and ‘non-selective’ quotations. In the far more common former type, it is only a specific aspect of the quoted text that plays an interpretive role; in the non-selective type, by contrast, the reader is meant to consider all aspects of the quota-tion, including its context in the original work. Even aside from the methodological problems such a distinction raises (most notably, the questions of how the interpre-tation of a supposedly selective quotation can ever be contained within its posited parameters or how we are supposed to know which kind of quotation Cicero intended in each individual case), B.’s reading of this particular letter poses its own problems.

The missive in question is an unusually firm reply to a (non-surviving) letter in which Appius had complained about what he perceived as Cicero’s lack of deference to himself (in the course of the handover of Cilicia in 51, when Cicero succeeded Ap-pius as governor of the province) and to Rome’s noble families in general. Cicero rejects Appius’ interpretation of events and furthermore declares that he measures men by their achievements, not their family names. Should it be the case that Appius’ real purpose is to dissociate himself from

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his correspondent for political reasons, Cicero is letting him know, in so many words, that he does not care. It is at this point that he quotes part of a speech Aga-memnon addresses to Achilles in Iliad 1: πάρ’ ἔμοιγε καὶ ἄλλοι / οἵ κέ με τιμήσουσι, μάλιστα δὲ μητίετα Ζεύς (174–5).

B. maintains that this is a case of non-selective quotation: we are meant to con-sider the original context of the line and a-half, which, she claims, is in essence identi-cal to that of the situation within the letter («Der Inhalt des Zitatkontextes stimmt im Wesentlichen mit dem Briefkontext über-ein», 147). In both cases, there is a conflict, arising from a competition for status among the members of an aristocratic society; Cicero assumes the role of Aga-memnon, rejecting Appius’ claim to special treatment on the basis of his nobility, just as the son of Atreus does not consider Achilles’ divine parentage a valid reason for entitlement (cf. Il. 1.178). This interpreta-tion is strange, to say the least. Why would Cicero wish to identify with Agamemnon, a problematic figure throughout the Iliad and one who in this particular, famous scene appears in the worst possible light? After all, it is Agamemnon who, abusing his position as king, mistreats Achilles by taking away Briseis, and it is Achilles who questions Agamemnon’s right to receive honors and prizes on the basis of his status – a status that, in Achilles’ view, is not justified by the king’s achievements (cf. 163–8, 225–7). If anything, Cicero resem-bles Achilles, which would turn Appius into Agamemnon.

B. overlooks furthermore that Aga-memnon’s confidence concerning his sup-posed support base presents a prime exam-ple of dramatic irony. As becomes clear shortly after this episode, ‘the counselor Zeus’ will in no way stand by and honor Agamemnon but, following the supplica-tion of Thetis, will do anything to thwart and humiliate the king, starting with the false dream of Book 2. While Appius or any other subsequent reader may well remember this plot development, it seems highly unlikely that Cicero actively intend-ed his addressee to bear in mind the exact (and embarrassing) context and ethos of his Iliadic tag. If any quotation is ‘selective’ in B.’s sense, it is this one, and we may in fact

speculate as to why Cicero would have thought it a good idea to employ it, given the many negative connotations of the Homeric lines. Perhaps the phrase was so well known that people commonly quoted it without any implied reference to its origin (what Germans – misappropriating another Homeric expression – call a ‘ge-flügeltes Wort’). Or perhaps Cicero want-ed to get across a more pointed message, rather than childishly insisting that ‘some people do like me’. Both Tyrrell & Purser and Shackleton Bailey ad loc. suggest that the reference to Zeus is meant to evoke Pompey (mentioned with great reverence just a few lines earlier). If so, Cicero would be signaling to Appius that he has political friends in the highest places and therefore can do without the testy nobleman’s amici-tia if he needs to. On this reading, which B. does not even mention, the message hidden in the mention of Zeus would make up for the fact that the quotation as a whole – if fully thought through by the reader – is less than appropriate to the situation.

As this example shows, a major chal-lenge in interpreting Cicero’s use of quota-tions is the fact that in most cases we do not know about non-obvious meanings – whether general cultural associations or interpretations held only by the letter’s writer and reader – that the quoted lines may have had at the time. Many of the quotations in the correspondence with Atticus in particular sound suspiciously like in-jokes, and in a manner of speaking, any felicitous quotation is an in-joke of sorts, in that both quoter and addressee must share basic assumptions about the ‘alien speech’ inserted into their exchange. Two millennia later, unfortunately, the modern reader often misses the punch line; concentrating, as B. does, on transhistorical communication practices, is not going to let us in on the joke. New York Katharina Volk

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Mark Thomson: Studies in the Historia Augusta. Bruxelles: Éditions Latomus 2012. 155 S. (Collection Latomus. 337.) 27 €.

‘Studies in the Historia Augusta’ von Mark Thomson (Th.) besteht aus Introduction, Conclusion und sechs Kapiteln, die teils je einer HA-Grundfrage (1: Authorship; 2: Date; 3: Context), teils je einem von Th. besonders eingehend behandelten Thema gewidmet sind (4: Naucellius; 5: Redaction; 6: Reception). Die ersten beiden Kapitel bieten konzise, die wesentlichen histori-schen und noch vertretenen Positionen umfassende Überblicke zu Datierung und Autorschaft. Die Paraphrasen mancher Argumente scheinen mir allerdings für Nichtspezialist/-innen, die die betreffenden Originalarbeiten nicht kennen, zu knapp für volles Verständnis – aber immerhin bieten die Fußnoten ja die bibliographi-schen Angaben.

Th. schlägt (25f) vor, daß das Ende des 4. Jh. (von Pacatus?) zusammengestellte Corpus der Panegyrici latini formaler Anreger für die Fiktion eines auf verschie-dene Autoren verteilten Corpus’ von Kai-serviten gewesen sei. Während mir dies plausibel, wenn auch nicht zwingend scheint, erregen einige darauf basierende Aussagen Th.s meine Skepsis. ‘Lampridius’ kündigt in Hel. 35 keine «collection of speeches» an, sondern eindeutig weitere Viten aus seiner Feder, und die Genregren-ze zwischen Panegyrici und Biographien verschwimmt m.E. auch nicht, wie Th. meint;1 zwischen lobrednerischem Tonfall in einer Vita2 und der Form eines Panegy-ricus (Rede, an lebenden Kaiser adressiert, nicht chronologischem oder biographi-schem Kategorienschema folgend) sollte

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– 1 14: «Since panegyric and biography

were hardly distinct genres in the Late Antiquity...»; 28: «... one might argue that developments in life writing in the fourth century, notably the rapid evolution of hagiography, narrowed any perceived differences between biography and pane-gyric.»

2 27: «Sections of the Divus Claudius, Divus Aurelianus and Probus are written in a frankly panegyrical mode» – was auch etwa für die vita Alexandri Severi oder Eusebius’ Constantinsvita zutreffen würde.

wohl unterschieden werden. Nach Diskus-sion der prominentesten Datierungsindi-zien resümiert Th., daß vieles auf das Ende des 4. Jh. (nach 395) deutet, aber keines der Einzelargumente konklusiv ist, eine gewiß kluge Haltung. Zu Recht weist er ferner darauf hin (53), daß Ereignisse des begin-nenden 5. Jh. wie u.a. der Sacco di Roma durch Alarich (noch) keine Spuren in der HA hinterlassen haben. Kapitel 3, ‘Context’, ist dem Thema gewidmet, das dem ganzen Buch als roter Faden dient. Auch hier referiert Th. vieles aus der For-schungsgeschichte; erfrischend daran ist, daß er damit nicht Datierungsargumente zusammenstellt, sondern unter Annahme einer akzeptierten Datierung die geistige Welt der HA und ihres Umfelds zu skiz-zieren bestrebt ist. Er zieht daraus auch Schlüsse wie jenen auf das intendierte Lesepublikum.3 In Einzelfällen ist m.E. Vorsicht geboten; daß eine senatorische Familie in einer genealogischen Passage der HA genannt wird, muß noch nicht mit «praise» dieser gens gleichgesetzt werden – wenn Th. (57) über die Charakterisierung der Ceionii unter den Vorfahren des Clodius Albinus4 sagt: «The Ceionii were the only family praised in this manner», übersieht er, daß die HA diese Familie mit Gallienus und Constantin von zwei Kai-sern gefördert sein läßt, die sie alles andere als positiv beurteilt. Ob der Autor der HA an solche Genealogien generell geglaubt hat (so Th. 60) oder sich nicht doch zu-mindest gelegentlich über das senatorische Vorfahrensammeln lustig macht, bliebe gewiß auch noch weiter zu untersuchen. Die geistige Verwandtschaft zwischen HA, Juvenalscholien, einigen Werken des Ausonius und De re coquinaria ist instruk-tiv aufgezeigt (63–66). Kapitel 4 setzt die Kontextanalyse und Th.s älteren Aufsatz5

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– 3 54: «Clearly, our impostor sought out

readers among the great houses of the Roman aristocracy, among the senatorial order, and among scholars and teachers associated with these groups.»

4 HA ClA 4,2: «Quae familia hodie quo-que, Constantine maxime, nobilissima est et per te aucta et augenda, quae per Gal-lienum et Gordianos plurimum crevit.»

5 ‘Logodaedalia: Ausonius and the His-toria Augusta.’ In: Deroux, Carl (Hrsg.):

GNOMON 1/88/2016

http://dx.doi.org/10.17104/0017-1417-2016-1-64

http://dx.doi.org/10.17104/0017-1417-2016-1-64



Gnomon Bd. 88, 2016 82

fort, in welchem er den Epigrammdichter Naucellius als Autor der HA vorgeschla-gen hat, was er nun vorsorglich wieder zurücknimmt. Es ist aber gewiß nicht die uninteressanteste der jüngeren Autortheo-rien, da sie neben Datierungsfragen auch damit argumentiert, wes Geistes Kinder der HA-Autor und der

rezensionvonthomson,mark: … 88.pdf · 2020. 8. 7. · e 51.4–5 della prima apologia di giustino...

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