12 1 may have been influenced by my memories of working in a record store in Chicago some years ago, a store whose owner had a fake burglar alarm: grey strips of tape around all the windows, with bits of electric wire at the corners leading nowhere in particular, and a little sign that said "Protected by XYZ Security" - the whole thing pure bluff. (It didn't work as well as Trimalchio's painted dog.)

Comments on the review by M.D. Reeve of Wade Richardson, Reading and Variant in Petronius: Studies in the French Humanists and Their Manuscript Sources. PSN 25 (1995) 7-9.
by Wade Richardson
M.D. Reeve makes a number of points to show his dissatisfaction with certain chapters of this book, and even the chapters receiving guarded acceptance are to him marred by defects - all of which contributing to a dislike of the book as a whole.
Starting with the latter, in my chapter on the Notae attributed to F. Daniel, I am said to contradict myself over whether the scribe omitted "things" (Reeve's word) deliberately or by mistake. Not so. In the note cited by Reeve in evidence I refer to the accidental omission of "lemmata and variants," a special category which I thought I was careful to distinguish from deliberate small changes and shortenings of different material, as defined nearby in some detail (p. 10).
It seems also to have escaped me that 'many" of this commentator's conjectures recur among those ascribed in t to Pithou. In fact there are five out of the fifteen. I had marked these correspondences in my copy of FDG, and certainly agree that a point could have been made in a footnote.
Relative to the Coniecturae attributed to de Mesmes (n. 42), I would still have the "exemplar manuscriptum" refer not to the notes themselves but to a manuscript source, though I freely concede my careless transposal of the Leiden and Bern B fragments removes a convenient corroboration.
As for Reeve's itemized criticisms on the more culpable chapters (on m, d and r), it might be helpful to those keeping the score to divide them into two parts, the first largely conceding the point, and the second not. The letter symbols are Reeve's (pp. 8-9).
Points conceded. (a) I tried to eliminate beta from the stemma on the basis of differences between t and dmr, as indeed Müller had postulated beta on the same basis. I reached my opposite conclusion by noting the efforts of t against dmr (as applicable), whereas Müller noted t's superiority. This was not to misspeak Müller, but I do regret not dealing with his data as well. Had I done so, my conclusion would have been an even harder sell, since maintenance of my new stemma would have to be achieved from correct readings in a Cuiacianus source close to 1.
(e) The erroneous list heading of "unique tm differences" resulted from my eye being on the Sage school data (Fulmer), to whom r was unknown. The tm readings lost their uniqueness with the admission of r, as I stated later. The list still has value because r was not accessible to tm.
(f) N. 64 could have benefitted from mention of the Scaliger quote, or at least Ullman's citation. The double-listing of m found by Reeve at 13.4, p. 11, was a typesetting error - regrettable, but hardly ominous. As for not distinguishing corrections from text in r, I deemed them, being in the same scribal hand, to have equivalent value for collating purposes in the two instances cited.
Points not conceded. (b) and (c). I adhere to my view, though without dogmatism, that d and r were comparatively free of contamination. For d there is insufficient change to justify belief in comparison with an O source like s (there would be more of it), and for r some material, as I said, could have come from the vetus liber.
I regret somehow giving Reeve the impression that I was answering a charge made by Müller that florilegia influenced the text of r. On the relevant page I cited Müller in full for all to see, and made it very clear, I thought, that my focus here and difference with Müller rested on the handwriting of the florilegium material only, in the margin indeed. On the next page I even supplied a disclaimer, "none of the above has any bearing on whether florilegia were used as collating sources for r (p. 130)," before procceding away from Müller and the handwriting dispute to address this issue.
(d) The term vetus liber in r isn't to be distinguished from vetus, which got its discussion earlier, in n. 150 - standard sixteenthcentury generic for a manuscript. In the sentence "Haec duo prima folia collata sunt cum fragments veteris libri qui Cuiacii fuerat," I don't believe I read a quod for the qui in order to sustain my argument. It seems to me anyway that a "fragment of a manuscript" is a Latin way of saying a "manuscript-fragment." Considering the possibility, as Reeve urges, that this sentence with its "duo" refers to an exemplar is one thing; accepting it is quite another. My best estimate of the habits of the scribe of r takes the "haec" demonstrative to refer to the leaves of r that follow, and surely not to an absent exemplar.
Anthony Powell on Petronius Again
by Barry Baldwin
Quite some year ago (PSN 10.2. 1979, 4; 12-1. 1981, 5), both Raymond Astbury and myself independently provided some jottings on Petronius in Anthony Powell, largely confined to his A Dance To The Music of Time series of novels. A recent perusal of his Miscellaneous Verdicts (London & Chicago, 1990), a collection of book reviews and essays, has yielded a couple of further items. First, Petronius is pressed into service as conclusion to Powellian parody of Cyril Connolly, thus: "We must ponder the lament attributed to Petronius, that disinherited Roman clubman: Pueri mater amica optima est." Connolly, incidentally, was a Petronius enthusiast, once writing in an essay as follows: "Though in Petronius we possess a fragmentary Roman Proust, how few have studied him; how little known to generations of boring novelists is the secret of his rapidity of style, of his visual clarity, biting dialogue, intellectual fastidiousness or of the haunting fugacity of the picaresque - that art which keeps characters on the move from waterfront to waterfront, brothel to palace, adventure to adventure. The analysis of such a book could help many young writers to give movement and montage to their characters, the lilt of transience which is the breath of readability." ("On Re-reading Petronius," in Selected Essays of Cyril Connolly, ed., Peter Quennell [New York 1984] 152-156.) The other Powell item occurs in an essay on Geoffrey Grigson and classical art. Regarding a supposed aversion from homosexuality on the part of Aphrodite, Powell argues: "At least that seems to be suggested by Petronius in the case of Aphrodite's son, Priapus." Ira Priapi lives, alas; cf. my disbelief in it as the dominant motif of the Satyricon's plot, CPh 68, 1973. 294-96.
Trimalchio the British Aristocrat
by Barry Baldwin
In her recent (London 1994) biography of Evelyn Waugh, Selina Hastings provides (p. 295 n. 2) this tidbit about the infant Julian Asquith, future 2nd Earl of Oxford:
Raymond Asquith saw his son, bom in 1916, only once, when the baby was sucking greedily at his mother's breast; this inspired his father to call him Trimalchio, after the famously greedy parvenu in Petronius' Satyricon."
We further learn that for the rest of his life this English gentleman was known to family and friends as Trim. He turned out well, though, being, (p. 286) "big on good sense and good manners. Studious, holy and respectful."
REVIEWS
G. Panayotakis, Theatrum Arbitri Theatrical Elements in the Satyrica of Petronius. Leiden: Brill, 1995. XXV, 225 pp.
review by Aldo Setaioli, University of Perugia
The title of the book is a quotation of Marius Mercator, Liber subnotationum in verba Iuliani 5.1 (PL 48, 133): theatrum Arbitri Valeriique The reference to Martial (Valerius), quoted with Petronius, probably aims at the prose preface to the first book of the Epigrams (non intret Cato theatrum meum), which clearly elaborates on Petronius' fatuous "apology" (Sat. 132.15).
Though Panayotakis does not dwell upon Martial, the consistent theatrical reference found in these authors points to the validity of his approach: an analysis of the Satyrica in the light of the traditions of ancient theater, mainly. though not soley, Roman farce, with special stress on the mime. The bulk of the book is therefore devoted to the study of the novel from this point of view, following the order of the text.
Panayotakis' principles are very sane and can largely be shared. He makes it clear that the Satyrica was never meant to be staged and that neither the mime nor the theater in general can be considered Petronius' only sources or models. if nothing else in view of the very length and scope of the work; still he insists that this is precisely the element from which the novel draws its peculiar liveliness, and in many cases he may well be right.
Not only does Pariayotakis stress the countless references in the text to the theater, he also provides the reader with a wealth of invaluable indications on the presence of theatrical elements (with innumerable parallels from plays and other texts) and on how they function in the narrative (as a good example I will mention the use of music in the Cena Trimalchionis).
Other interesting observations concern the double audiencespectacle pattern, whereby some of the characters watch an act performed by others, being at the same time part of the show for the reader (e.g. pp. 19; 27; 37; 50; 128-129;188); and the roleplaying of the characters of the Satyrica (e.g. pp. 15; 32; 110), in the sense that they are made to act according to and to play with specific literary clichés.
Panayotakis goes as far as transposing sections of the text into theatrical scripts made up of spoken parts and stage directions (e.g. pp. 40ff.; 113).
As can easily be imagined. the book makes an extremely pleasant and informative reading. If we add that the author shows a perfect command of all relevant bibliography, it must be acknowledged that Panayotakis has presented Petronian scholarship with an invaluable and much-needed contribution, in that his work not only is the first systematic inquiry on an essential element of the Satyrica, but also provides a new understanding of many aspects of the novel through this approach.
There are very few points open to doubt, which in no way undermine the high quality of the book. I'll mention a couple for completeness' sake.
At p. 176 one is rather surprised by the suggestion that the mimes did not go so far as presenting female nudity on stage, in view of the testimonies about the nudatio miniarum.
Now and then the search for testimonies of theatrical parallels may result in unduly stretching the meaning of the texts referred to. This may be the case with Seneca, Ep. 47. 4 (p. 104 n. 30): the philosopher only records the usage of familiares for servi in the mimes. This must be seen in the context of his theories on language (see my Seneca e i Greci. Cilazioni e traduzioni nelle opere filosofiche, Bologna 1988, p. 39-40 and n. 126), rather than as a sign of respectable treatment of slaves in the mimes. Surely Trimalchio's attitude to slaves is influenced by Seneca himself (rather than the mimes: pp. 82 and 104). At another Senecan passage, Ep. 94. 71 (p. 174 n. 33), ambitio et luxuria et impotentia scaenam desiderant means of course "ambition, luxury and excess craving for a public", with no reference to sexual impotence as a fitting theatrical subject.
The only interpretation I find difficult to accept is the equation of Giton to the male lover, of Encolpius to the adulterous wife, and of Ascyltos (and Eumolpus) to the cuckolded husband at Sat. 97.1-99.4. an episode interpreted as an adultery mime (pp. 130-135). Such roles are hardly consistent with the ones played by these characters in the Satyrica and may result from forcing a mimic pattern upon a live and lively scene of the novel. It is only fair to remind, however, that Panayotakis himself warns against any mechanical approach to Petronius' "own variation on the theme" (p. 170), and almost with no exception has admirably stuck to this rule.
The remarks that follow are in no way meant as a criticism of the book, whose goal to illustrate the theatrical element in the Satyrica has been masterfully carried out by the author, but only as a reminder that besides this fundamental component there are many other elements to be taken into account, if one is to hope to gain not too incomplete an understanding of Petronius.
Several times (e.g. pp. 23; 37; 41ff.) Panayotakis credits the characters of the Satyrica with mimicry and facial expressions not specifically mentioned in the text. This is of course perfectly legitimate, if we are not oblivious to the fact that sometimes a character's emotions are rendered by Petronius not through the theatrical (i.e. visual) elements alone, but through a skillful combination with the resources offered by narration (see for instance pp. 23-24: at Sat. 12.5 aliquo motu refers to an undefined inner commotion, to add to the more visual description of Sat. 12.4).
As already hinted, the concept of role-playing is a very interesting and fruitful approach. If we give it absolute validity, however, it will be difficult for example (p. 16), to use Ascyltos' insults at Sat. 9.9 to reconstruct lost parts of the novel (but see Sat. 81.3). What's more, it will be all but impossible to descry any element of seriousness and sincerity in what Petronius' characters do or say; whenever they talk about serious matters, they will have to be considered as hypocritical pretenders. Such, according to Panayotakis (pp. 1-9), are Encolpius and Agamemnon in their discussion of rhetoric at the beginning of our text (though Encolpius does not flatter Agamemnon: see Sat. 2.2; nor does the latter admit being a swindler: at Sat. 3-4 he is only lamenting a situation that forces him to resort to methods he theoretically disapproves of), Panayotakis regards as equally false and hypocritical both Encolpius' interest in the decline of the arts and Eumolpus' lecture on the subject (pp. 117-121). If the latter is only the hackneyed opinion of a lecher playing a role, are we to surmise that Eumolpus' criticism of Lucan should be interpreted in the same way? Unfortunately Panayotakis says nothing on the matter. He does, however, dismiss the famous "apology" of Sat. 132.15 as unserious (pp. 175-176) on the ground of two somewhat conflicting arguments: the rather usual comment that the statement comes from an undignified character in a risible situation, who therefore cannot be identified with Petronius, and the clever literary use of the sexual theme in the novel, allegedly a far cry from crude pornography. This, however, if anything, supports the seriousness of the apology and theorization of the admission of the sexual element into sophisticated literature; on the other hand, the identification of Encolpius with Petronius may be regarded as an irrelevant problem here, as the literary situation forces us to assume it by necessity for the matter at hand, in that the author is making the narrator theorize on his own narration, which is of course identical with the novel and is even called an opus.
Finally, according to Panayotakis (p. 157). Encolpius' lament for Lichas should also be considered as ironic and insincere. It is quite true, of course, that the passage is highly rhetorical and full of philosophical (one might almost say "Senecan") commonplaces.
Even this element, however, should be considered in the proper light, in order to avoid serious limitations in the approach to the novel's characters. The host of the Cena, for example, is certainly the theatrical director and protagonist of his banquet, but there is a lot more to him than just this. To be sure, he does have an inkling, no matter how distorted and reduced to his measure, of Seneca's generous and humane ideas on slaves. His satisfaction at the success of his theatrical schemes cannot strip him of this. Neither can his undoubted vulgarity and arrogance deprive him of a sort of greatness of his own.
As already hinted, this is true for Eumolpus too. He is certainly a mime-player, no matter how far removed from a theatrical stockfigure (p. 121). Hypocrisy, however, is only one side of his personality (as is made clear for example at Sat. 115. 1-5). The novel's characters cannot be dismissed as one-sided and onedimensional.
Besides, if stress is placed on (perforce insincere) role-playing, it become difficult not to credit the author with a standard against which this "insincerity" must be checked, and, in the final analysis, with a critical attitude towards the lowly universe constituting the object of his narrative. In this sense Panayotakis is fully justified when he stresses the negative sides of the novel's characters. If then, to quote Panayotakis' very last words (p. 196), a conception of the Satyrica as nothing but a "sophisticated, scabrous book" results from its theatrical "reading", this is only a further proof that the invaluable insights into the nature and framework of the novel provided by this approach must be supplemented by taking into account all the other elements that contribute to the making of this unique piece of literature.
Maria Kardaun, Petrons Satyricon. Eine psychoanalylische
Untersuchung (Diss., University of Groningen, 1993) 220 pp.
summary by Maria Kardaun
This study presents an interpretation of the Satyricon of Petronius from the (classic) psychoanalytic point of view. Applying psychoanalytic theory to literature, and especially to ancient texts, is controversial. The first half of the study is therefore devoted to methodological aspects of psychoanalytic literary criticism in general, and to some of the possibilities and dangers of a psychoanalytic approach to the Satyricon in particular.
Undeniably, there exist many different literary interpretations of the Satyricon. Some of these are compatible with one another, whereas others are competing. Since the assumption that all these interpretations are equally adequate to the text has to be dismissed as implausible, the question arises whether it is possible to formulate effective general criteria to distinguish satisfactory literary interpretations from less satisfactory ones. On what reasonable grounds, if at all, can we decide that one interpretation of the Satyricon does more justice to the text than a competing one?
First of all, evidently, it is necessary to determine the perspective from which the text is interpreted. Unless there is an agreement on the adopted point of view a fruitful discussion about the value and the effectiveness of an interpretation is impossible.
Literary interpretations in the strict sense should aim at presenting the literary text as a coherent and meaningful unity from the perspective adopted. in addition, to ensure that they are not purely speculative, but reveal something of the text involved, literary interpretation should to a reasonable extent be testable against intersubjective data given in the text.
The question whether psychoanalytic literary interpretations can be formulated in such a way that they are not fundamentally speculative differs from the question whether the theoretical framework of psychoanalysis itself is fundamentally speculative. It is maintained that, even though actual testing rarely takes place, the "testability" of the set of psychoanalytic theories from which psychoanalytic literary interpretations gain their conceptual framework is in a less deplorable condition than critics of psychoanalysis would have us believe.
Psychoanalytic theory as used in literary criticism should be regarded as an explorative theory that allows for the formulation of testable psychoanalytic text interpretations. This explorative theory is fertile (leads to interesting new questions), effective (provides the means to formulate answers to those questions) and reasonably coherent (the internal consistency of psychoanalytic theory is relatively well established).
The psychoanalytic interpretation in question aims at presenting the Satyricon as a coherent piece of literature, insofar as the fragmentary state of the text allows for it. Much of the text that appears at first sight to be loosely structured or even incomprehensible can be understood from the psychoanalytic point of view as meaningful in its context. The successive episodes of the Satyricon - including many supposed inconsistencies and irrelevant insertions - are shown to form a psychoanalytically coherent narrative structure which according to psychoanalytic theory, appeals to an unconscious sensitivity of the reader. (It may be useful to add here that the unconscious psyche of Petronius is not under investigation. What is intended, is a contribution to the reader's best possible understanding of the psychoanalytically relevant dimension of the Satyricon. ).
From indications in the text it is clear that the protagonist and narrator Encolpius has in the past evolved from a more or less content pre-oedipal narcissist, who was sleeping around unproblematically with both sexes, into an impatent and dissatisfied one, who suffers from hidden and unfulfilled longings.
Unconscious oedipal desires of Encolpius, probably awakened in connection with his profaning of the Priapus mystery, bring Encolpius into conflict with the ithyphallic god himself. Of course, it is not really the deity Priapus, but "Priapus", that is to say Encolpius's own inner Priapus image, that is at stake in the Satyricon, since we read a lot about Encolpius' hopes and fears in connection with the deity, but never about the deity itself. Encolpius lacks the capacity of mastering his conflict with "Priapus": he simply feels helpless toward the omnipotent god and, measuring himself with him, becomes, and probably remains, impotent.
One could conclude that the Satyricon is centered around the classical oedipal motif, but without a happy ending: instead of the father's being killed by the son and the son's living happily ever after with the mother, the son is thoroughly frustrated and remains stuck in the preoedipal state, neurotically suppressing his forbidden desires out of extreme (unconscious) oedipal castration-fear
An extended version of this study, with an additional, Jungian interpretation of the text, a summary in English, and indices, is in preparation. Part of the psychoanalytic interpretation has appeared in English: Maria Kardaun (1994) "The Encolpius Figure in Petronius' Satyricon: Bewitched by the Mother, Punished by the Father," in Fathers and Mothers in Literature, Walter Schoenau, ed., 61-70. Amsterdam. Parts of the Jungian interpretation (also in English) can be found in: Maria Kardaun (1995) "Encolpius at Croton: A Jungian Interpretation," in Heinz Hofmann, ed., Groningen Colloquia on the Novel 6: 87-102. Groningen; Maria Kudaun (1996) "A Jungian Reading of the Cena Trimalchionis," in Heinz Hofmann, ed., Groningen Colloquia on the Novel 7. Groningen, forthcoming.
John M, McMahon, Representing Impotence:
Systems of Belief in Ancient Popular Culture
(Ph.D Dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, Department of Classical Studies,
1993)
summary by John M. McMahon
This dissertation elucidates the ways in which the problem of male sexual dysfunction
is portrayed in literary contexts by analyzing the popular perceptions of its causes,
the traditional methods of treatment, and the iatro-magical belief system upon which these are predicated. In addition, it draws conclusions about how the social implications
of impotence are reflected by the genre of the texts in which sexual dysfunction
plays a thematic role. Finally, it analyzes passages in the Satyrica in which the personal and social difficulties caused by sexual dysfunction find resolution in
the First-person expression afforded its main character.
The Introduction examines the intersection of the cultural and literary representation
of male sexuality and establishes a methodology for the investigation as a whole.
It concludes that while an aggressive virility stands as the predominant imagery
in a cultural landscape marked by a patriarchal viewpoint, references to impotence appear
relatively infrequently; and that sexual dysfunction is most commonly associated
with literary genres of a humorous or invective nature. Consequently, evidence for
popular reactions to impotence should be sought in both literary and subliterary documents.
Chapter One surveys the primary sources and considers the acceptability and reliability
of scientific and subliterary sources for analyzing attitudes toward impotence and
for providing information on cures. It also examines the continuity and persistence of popular belief in generically dissimilar texts representative of widely separated
periods. Beginning with evidence that discourse about male sexual activity is pervasive
and long-lived in cosmopolitan Greco-Roman culture, the chapter establishes the location of pertinent information within a variety of written sources.
Chapter Two examines the processes of evocation, association, and identification responsible
for ancient theories about impotence and associated magico-medical cures. It identifies
two chief branches of folk healing, the "natural" and the "supernatural", and demonstrates how causes for afflichon were believed to be of both natural (physiological)
and supernatural (divine or magical) origin. Such systems are based an the perception
that life consisted of am array of corporal, mental, and spiritual elements and that good health resulted from a balanced combination of these. Ancient approaches
correspond closely to certain modern folk medicinal systems in which impotence is
seen as a creeping paralysis that involves the entire body and which results from
a failure to cope with everyday stresses or from externally generated malign influences.
Chapters Three, Four and Five examine one particular belief system which associates
certain bulbous plants, serpents, and magical stones or amulets with the phallus.
For example, references to the stimulative properties of plants included under the
general terms
and bulbi
appear in such diverse works as agricultural and botanical tracts, the culinary discussions
of Athenaeus, Attic Comedy, Roman Elegy, and the Satyrica
. Garlic and onions, because of visual associations with the male organ, were especially
prized as were a number of other species
Observations of the visual and behavioral characteristics of animals, linked them
with male sexuality in the ancient mind as well. In the case of serpents their perceived
ability to rejuvenate themselves by sloughing the skin came to connect them closely with the sexual functions of the mate organ. Serpents' venom, moreover, in partaking
of cooling qualities of deadening poisons, was perceived as the kind of magical
substance that could bring about the paralysis of impotence. As a result, plants
with visual associations with both the male organ and serpents were often considered as
particularly stimulative because of the hearing qualities they possesed.
In the associative relationship of plants and serpents sympathetic magic also played
a significant role, arid the essence of this influence was considered readily transferable
to objects. In particular the perceived efficacy of magically charged stones and amulets was based on visual features and on other perceived interconnections with
serpents and serpent-like plants. The ability to manipulate the powers of these
objects became a specific source of empowerment for those who availed themselves
of their sexually and socially reintegrative properties.
Chapter Six demonstrates how an understanding of such a belief system can inform the
interpretation of several well known texts. Vegetable imagery appears in Catullus
67 in describing an impotent male, and Horace's Epode
3 has a sexual subtext derived from the close association of garlic, serpents, and
venom with male sexuality. The wide range of social concerns and accepted cures
of impotence appear in Ovid Amores
3.7, and in the Satyrica
these elements combine to paint a narrative picture of folk medicinal belief whose
recognition is essential for a true understanding of the work's cultural matrix.
The numerous attempts by Encolpius to remedy his impotence stand as evidence for
popular perceptions about the efficacy of traditional remedies where both natural and supernatural
elements function in an integrated Imannent typical of folk medical systems.
The Satyrica
itself takes this intersection one step further by showing how the failures of the
impotent Encolpius are superseded by the personal account of the victim. This then
becomes the means by which the humiliation and agony of the sexually dysfunctional
male enable his concerns about his condition to be resolved. Through the actual narrative
process itself the parodic nature of the Satyrica
is incorporated into a critique of the traditional concepts of ritual and magical
practice which are taken for granted in other literary representations of male sexual
dysfunction.
Chariton: Nachleben
by B.P. Reardon
(on information from A. Billault)
J. A. Gobineau (1816-1892), Nouvelles II: Nouvelles Asiatiques: Les Amants de Kandahar
, Paris, J.-J.Pauvert 1960, P. 286:
Les deux amants restaient embrassés et ne parlaient
pas; ils balbutiaient; ils étaient noyés de larmes, ils se
regardaient avec un passion inextinguible et, comme
une lampe presque épuisée dans laquelle on verse
de l'huile, l'âme de Mohsèn reprenait la vie et son
corps se ranimait.
Cf. Callirhoe 1.1.15 (Callirhoe has just been told she is to be married, but does not yet know
to whom):
.....she was unable to speak, darkness covered her eyes, and
she nearly expired ... his parents brought the bridegroom
to the girl. Then Chaereas ran forward and kissed her;
recognizing the man she loved, Callirhoe, like a dying lamp
once it is replenished with oil, flamed into life again and
became taller and stronger
trans. G.P. Goold
Goold points out a possible source in Xenophon, one of Chariton's favourite models:
Symposium
2.24, wine awakens kindly feelings
; D'Orville, in his edition of Chariton,
lists some others, less close (Maximus Tyrius, Plutarch - both too late for Chariton
in my view, through some might disagree about Plutarch; Ovid - Chariton had surely
not read Ovid?). Gobineau, an aristocrat, had surely read Ovid and perhaps Plutarch,
but this seems closer to Chariton, who did exist in French translation in his day.
At 8.1 Chaereas and Callirhoe, reunited at last and in each other's arms, are "like
people plunged in a deep well barely able to bear a voice from above" (trans. Goold).
Has anyone a parallel - either before or after - for that?

This page last updated 6 March1997 by Jean Alvares
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