Reviewed by: Simonides Lyricus: Essays on the 'Other' Classical Choral Lyric Poet ed. by Peter Agócs and Lucia Prauscello Ruth Scodel Simonides Lyricus: Essays on the 'Other' Classical Choral Lyric Poet. Edited by Peter Agócs and Lucia Prauscello. Cambridge Classical Journal Supplements Book 42. Cambridge, UK: The Cambridge Philological Society, 2020. Pp. xi + 285. Hardback, $60.00. ISBN: 9781913701062. This conference volume, although all the papers are excellent, is a bit odd. are conference, as the introduction helpfully explains, was conceived in 2011 as a response to the publication of Poltera's edition and commentary for the lyric fragments and David Sider's edition of the elegies and epigrams, then planned, now published. The melic poetry has received more aBention recently, especially thanks to Richard Rawles' 2018 Simonides the Poet: Intertextuality and Reception (Cambridge), and this book is only in part about the melic poetry. The volume helpfully displays various approaches, but the papers do not engage with each other. The first section addresses transmission and authorship. An essay by Ucciardello provides, first, a survey of all possible Simonidean fragments among the adespota. This very useful information would have been best provided as some kind of wiki, generally available and easily edited to include new publications. The second part is a case study of P. Strass. inv. 1406–9. It demonstrates that the fragment is not lyric poetry at all, but from an anonymous prose work of perhaps the late 2nd century CE called #e Life and Maxims of Secundus the Silent Philosopher. D'Alessiothen oDers a Cne discussion of the hypochoreme and fr. *107 M=Simonides 255 Polterra—but D'Alessio thinks that the likeliest author is Pratinus. So we begin with not-Simonides and probably-not-Simonides. In the second section, "Genres and Contexts of Performance, Patronage, and Reception," Poltera argues for dating Simonides later, because there is no real evidence for his activity before 500. The chapter shows very clearly how up-to-date Simonides' style is for the early 5th century. Then Sider proposes that the boundaries dividing melic from elegy and elegy from epigram were not as rigid as we oLen think—because elegies could include epigrams (imagined inscriptions), bits of elegies could be transmiBed as epigrams, and lyric could include invective. Carey considers the thrēnoi, a genre for which Simonides was celebrated, especially for their pathos, although very little [End Page 243] remains. Carey contrasts Simonidean lament with Pindar's (there is no sign of Pindaric consolatory eschatology), and uses funeral orations as a way to see some of the available ways to make the death of individuals meaningful in wider contexts. Rutherford looks at PMG 537= 301 Polterra, which aBributes to Simonides' kateuchai (a mysterious and debated category) a narrative about how the Achaeans recruited the daughters of Anius from Delos to provide food at Troy. Rutherford analyzes evidence for Athenian interest in Delos and Anius (and considers it plausible that the poem was commissioned by Pisistratus, so he has evidently not been convinced by Poltera). Finally, recent discussions of the Persian War poetry have considered how Simonides balances praise of one polis with that of the entire alliance. Morgan deLly addresses the related problem of balancing praise of leaders with that of the army as a whole and shows how carefully Simonides seems to have balanced individual and collective. The final section concerns the early reception of Simonides. Ford asks why Simonides rather than other possible candidates among the poets had such a reputation for wisdom. He makes the interesting suggestion that sophists especially admired his care with language and his versatility over genres. I wonder, also, whether the diplomatic skill discussed by Morgan may have been a factor, along with the apparently low salience of erotic themes in his poetry. He may even have been useful as a foil by someone like Protagoras because the fathers of his young students (who must have paid the fees) would have admired him, so that it was useful to assimilate this new education to the old, while the young men could believe that sophistic education was an obvious improvement. Hunter's paper on the Scopas...

Reviewed by: Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power by Elizabeth Donnelly Carney Leanna Boychenko Eurydice and the Birth of Macedonian Power. By Elizabeth Donnelly Carney. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2019. Pp. 200. Hardback, $65.00. ISBN: 978-0-190-28053-6. Carney's book on the life of Eurydice of Macedon is an important contribution to our knowledge of royal women. More broadly, it is an extremely useful overview of the political situation in Macedon in the time before Alexander. Like many ancient women, Eurydice is largely defined by her relationship to men: daughter of Sirras, wife of Amyntas III, mother of Philip II and grandmother of Alexander the Great. Eurydice lived at a fascinating time—when Macedon's emerging power gave it a seat at the international table—and was a key player in the events that led to her sons' rise to power (her two elder sons ruled before Philip II), supporting them against other possible successors to the throne. Carney examines her public role, the earliest known for a Macedonian royal woman, but in the end we are left with more questions than answers, not least the question of whether some sources have anything to do with Eurydice's life at all (for instance, the so-called Tomb of Eurydice in Vergina, whose occupant is unknown). This book is short, 117 pages before the notes, and falls into six chapters. The introduction contextualizes Eurydice's life and gives an overview of our sources, Macedonian monarchy and the roles of women in Macedon. Carney also builds on Daniel Ogden's term "bastardizing," pointing out that while Ogden correctly points to the public smearing of a potential successor's birth as a propagandistic tool, frequently the successor's mother was the target, thus explaining the stories about Eurydice in which she is an adulterer and murderer of her two elder sons. Indeed, this analysis can be more broadly applied to other women in the ancient world and makes this book worth reading for that contribution alone. Chapter 2 looks at Eurydice's marriage to Amyntas III and his rule. Especially interesting is the discussion of Eurydice's contested ethnicity and its implications. The rule of her sons is covered in the third chapter, ending with Philip II's consolidation of power and legitimacy. Chapter 4 examines Eurydice's relationships with her sons and reports of her adultery and filicide. It also contains discussion of a [End Page 369] speech of Aeschines (2.27-9), in which he paints Eurydice as a "super mother" (75) responsible for bringing international support to her sons, essentially guaranteeing their safety and rise to power in Macedon. This is the strongest evidence for her political action and public importance, but is buried in the middle of the book (and chapter). The fifth chapter, focused on her public image in her lifetime, looks at dedications, monuments, physical images and inscriptions. Particularly striking is an epigram preserved in Plutarch's corpus (Plut. Mor. 14b-c) concerning Eurydice's education. According to the epigram, she learned to read and write when her sons were in their adolescence. Carney is mostly interested in a textual emendation, which would change the dedication of the epigram to female citizens (and not the Muses) as well as the location of the original inscription (no physical copy exists). I would have liked to read more about what this could tell us about the education of women and literacy in Macedonia. It is also worth considering that this epigram may not be genuine and instead is part of later reception of the queen. Finally, the last chapter concerns Eurydice's public image after her death and is mostly focused on the Tomb of Eurydice, possibly the queen's final resting place. At the end of this chapter, Carney briefly introduces some intriguing topics that deserve more attention: the importance of the name Eurydice in myth and in history; the name-change of her great-granddaughter Adea to Eurydice and what this tells us about Eurydice's legacy; Odyssean figures as models for Macedonian monarchs and Eurydice's connection to Penelope. I wish they had been dealt with more...

Reviewed by: The Hera of Zeus. Intimate Enemy, Ultimate Spouse by Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge and Gabrielle Pironti Roy Van Wijk The Hera of Zeus. Intimate Enemy, Ultimate Spouse. By Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge and Gabrielle Pironti. Trans. by Raymond Geuss. Cambridge, UK; New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2022. Pp. 348. Hardback, $120.00. ISBN: 9781108888479. This book is an English translation of the 2016 French original L'Hera de Zeus: Ennemie Intime, Epouse Definitive. It is the first product of a new CUP series dedicated to translating key works in other languages into English. If this is the standard adhered to, the series will be a great addition to Classical scholarship. This is an essential book for anyone interested in researching and understanding (if partially) the multifaceted nature of Greek polytheism. Rather than providing a general overview or deciphering the teleological development of Hera, the authors stress her versatile character. At the same time, they successfully incorporate the many local characteristics of her cult. They avoid the [End Page 376] straight jacket of a "uniform" goddess approach, yet demonstrate how her essential characteristics, such as maintaining sovereignty and organizing the hierarchy of the (divine) household or marriage, emerge at the cult sites from Sybaris to Samos. In the process, they traverse numerous mythological stories to argue that Hera cannot be captured by the monolithic "jealous wife" trope widespread among scholars. In fact, she is the rightful, powerful counterbalance to Zeus in her own right. She does not just exist as Zeus' foil. She is a divine queen atop the pecking order of Olympus by her own right. The first chapter sets out the premise of her role in the divine order. Contrary to earlier scholarship that saw Hera as the remnant of a matriarchal society or the final development of a primordial vegetation goddess descended from the Mycenaean period, the authors show that Hera took on many roles. Besides being the daughter of Kronos and thus divine royalty on her own account, she plays the role of spouse. As Zeus' sister, she is on equal terms with him. As his lover, she is unsurpassed in beauty in Zeus' eyes – despite his misgivings – and his desire for her stands on a different level. It is that attraction she uses to negotiate with him. She is the guardian of marriage and safeguarded childbirth, especially the legitimacy of children, as evidenced by her behaviour vis-à-vis Dionysos and Herakles, who need to earn their right to Olympus. It is her close acquaintance with her brother that makes her his most dangerous enemy and equal: she knows exactly what triggers him and how to outsmart the thundering god, as evidenced in the story of Herakles and Eurystheus' birth. The second, much bigger chapter, traces Hera in her various cult guises across the Greek world. The cults in question are that of Stymphalos, Plataia, Argos, Samos and Olympia. The chapter ends with an overview and analysis of her roles. Despite the local differences, in each cult it is clear that she acts in her capacity as Queen of the Gods and Olympus. Her role as the consort of Zeus is everywhere engrained in the cultic roots across Greece in various shapes and sizes. In Plataia she protects and solidifies unions and marriages; at Samos she takes on the form of Zeus' young bride that inspired such desires in him. These roles are not mutually exclusive. She can perform various duties within these cults. What their geographic dissemination and local idiosyncrasies show, however, is that despite epichoric differences, the goddess is always venerated in her role as the Hera of Zeus, an equal partner that rightly deserves worship. These investigations of cult are not just worthwhile because of the breadth of their analysis and scholarship; [End Page 377] they also provide a Sitz im Leben for understanding how Greek worshippers themselves saw Hera in all her roles and attributes. The third and final chapter traces one of Hera's most lasting legacies: that of her cholos. This archaic, Homeric term for anger was always misused by previous scholarship. Rather than analyze the context of Hera's wrath more closely...

The setting for the greater part of the Protagoras is the notorious home of Callias. But that space is continuously re-imagined and refocalized by the various characters, Socrates included. The narrative thus passes from the comic stage and the Underworld to council-chamber, epideictic auditorium, panhellenic assembly, panhellenic prytaneum of the wise, symposium (devoted to literary culture and the testing of one's fellow-symposiast), an occult Sparta, the Delphic seat of the Seven Sages, and the agora. With this last the contest of narrative spaces comes full circle, clearing the way for a better use of Callias's home and hospitality (361d).

Reviewed by: Orientalism and the Reception of Powerful Women from the Ancient World ed. by Filippo Carlà-Uhink and Anja Wieber Amanda Potter Orientalism and the Reception of Powerful Women from the Ancient World. Edited by FILIPPO CARLÀ-UHINK AND ANJA WIEBER. Imagines: Classical Receptions in the Visual and Performing Arts, London, UK and New York, NY: Blooms-bury, 2020. Pp x + 321. Hardback, £100. ISBN: 978-1-350-05010-5. This wide-ranging collection of essays brings together discussions of receptions of powerful ancient women in a range of media: opera, prose fiction, poetry graphic novels, film and television through the lens of Orientalism. These receptions are both Western and Eastern, including works by Iranian and Syrian film makers alongside European writers and artists The writers include new takes on oft-Orientalized subjects, such as Cleopatra seen through the eyes of two English women attempting to elevate themselves in 18th and 19th-century society, while discussing the Roman Fulvia whom we would perhaps not initially see as Orientalized (as in Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra we see her described as very much part of the enduring Roman West when Cleopatra, incredulous, asks Antony "Can Fulvia die?"). The chapters are structured according to chronology of female subjects, starting with Semiramis, the mythologised Assyrian queen, through historical women from the Greco-Roman world, and ending with Šīrīn, another mythologised historical figure this time from the 7th century CE. [End Page 244] The introduction proposes the theory of "double estrangement" whereby both the feminine and the Oriental are marked as Others when seen from a masculine, Western perspective. The editors provide examples of how powerful women have been Orientalised from antiquity onwards, with a longer discussion of Cleopatra, where writers and artists from ancient Rome onwards, both male and female, have emphasised her Egyptian rather than Ptolemaic attributes. In the first chapter on the Baroque opera Semiramide in India (1648-1649), Kerstin Droβ-Krüpe argues that despite many previous negative and sometimes Orientalizing portrayals of the queen, and the opera's setting in India, the opera presents us with Semiramis as a non-Orientalised ruler torn between choosing love or obligations (here martial obligations). In Chapter 2 Irene Berti discusses how Carian queens Artemisia I and Artemisia II have been conflated and used as a positive role model as widow and mother for Medici queens 16th and early 17th-century France. It is in the medium of film that Berti Artemisia is Orientalized, as femme fatale in The 300 Spartans (1962) and as vengeful warrior in 300: Rise of an Empire (2014), in both cases compared unfavourably with the Greek queen Gorgo. However, in the Italian dystopian graphic novel Eterna Artemisia the queen is again cast as positive heroine. In chapter three Ann-Cathrin Harders examines Mary Renault's treatment of the eunuch Bagoas and the Bactrian princess Roxane in her Alexander novels The Persian Boy and Funeral Games. Both characters are introduced in Orientalized harem-like settings, but the Orient is complicated in The Persian Boy, as the Persian narrator Bagoas sets Persia as the center, from where both Bactria and Macedon become sites of barbarian otherness. In the next chapter, Sabine Müller offers us another example of an Orientalized harem woman in fiction set in the world of Alexander, this time the Persian princess Drypetis in fanfiction. As wife of Hephaistion Müller finds that Drypetis is portrayed by fanfiction writers primarily as a potential but usually ineffectual obstacle to their preferred romantic pairing of Alexander and Hephaistion. Next, Marta Garcia Morcillo surveys depictions of Carthaginian women from the early modern period onwards, with reinventions of Virgil's Dido, Sophonisba, daughter of Hasdrubal and the fictional Salammbȏ of Flaubert. Mary Hamer's excellent chapter on the afterlife of Cleopatra focuses on two women claiming the image of Cleopatra for themselves. Emma Hamilton posed as Cleopatra waiting for the return of Antony among other famous women from antiquity in her Attitudes, but was satirized as the seducer Cleopatra to a Nelson [End Page 245] as Antony. Lady Catherine Stepney's bust, "as Cleopatra" depicts the sitter as a conventional 19th-century woman...

In the fifth book of the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle treats involuntary corrective justice in an interesting but somewhat confusing way. In particular, he uses a model borrowed from market transactions, such that a wrong-doer is imagined as taking excessively from a victim. But the identity of what is exchanged is left unclear. I argue that it is a record of having exercised one’s will. This leads to some surprising results, including the possibility that the actions of a living person might affect the disposition of the dead. I then apply this model to some examples from Homer, Aeschylus and Antiphon.

In this article, I argue that the divinely driven legitimation of Neoptolemus’ bastard child in Euripides’ Andromache may have evoked in the minds of the audience the legitimation of Athenian bastards that, as E. Carawan first proposed, took place after the outbreak of the plague in Athens in 430 bc.

Reviewed by: Classicisms in the Black Atlantic ed. by Ian Moyer, Adam Lecznar and Heidi Morse Ronald Charles Classicisms in the Black Atlantic. Edited by Ian Moyer, Adam Lecznar, and Heidi Morse. Classical Presences. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2020. Pp xiv + 338. Hardback, $150. ISBN 0198814127 This volume is a groundbreaking study of how Classical texts, tropes, figures, art, myths and history have been received, used, deployed and interpreted within the Black Atlantic. The book aims to show how artists and intellectuals in the Black Atlantic have excavated the classical texts, images, narratives and practices in order to imagine new possibilities. The essays emphasize the outcomes of slavery's aftermaths by way of various geographical (dis)location and cultural connections. The volume is divided into three parts: 1) Wakes, 2) Journeys and 3) Tales. The editors grace the book with a programmatic Introduction in which they lay out the aims and contours of the project. Paul Gilroy's famous work on the Black Atlantic provides the broad conceptual framework for these analyses of the reception of the classics in the diasporic world. Part I : Wakes The first chapter is by Emily Greenwood, "Middle Passages: Mediating Classics and Radical Philology in Marlene NourbeSe Philip and Derek Walcott." This chapter explores the use of classical texts and figures as mediating elements in the historical and representational space the Middle Passage plays in the work of Marlene NourbeSe Philip and Derek Walcott. The Middle Passage remains a site of memory or, as the author identifies it, "a zone of translation based on the physical transportation and translation of bodies" (31). Both NourbeSe and Walcott use classical texts as tools of resistance and radical rewriting. Greenwood shows how the notion of critical memory is used in a creative way in Walcott's works, pointing [End Page 356] out his recurring evocation of bones as poetic touchstone. NourbeSe's goal, Greenwood highlights, is to dismember the Classics, that is, to challenge certain Eurocentric readings of the classical texts and to make them serve her own purpose of remembering the fate and the story of her Black ancestors. Playing with languages and with texts, she engages in reading the classical texts, such as the Aeneid, subversively: "While Philip may not find common cause with Derek Walcott, both poets are engaged in a profound philological project because they ceaselessly address the question of how to love a conflicted language that bears the traces of a colonial history, as well as the question of how to express Caribbean experience within this language" (54). The second chapter in this section of the book, "Nero, the mustard!: The Ironies of Classical Slave Names in the British Caribbean," was authored by Margaret Williamson. The author demonstrates how slaveholders took names (place names, literary and classical names) from a wide classical stock of names and imposed them on to the Black slaves. The point was to ridicule the slaves, and to differentiate "slaves as a group from free whites by means of nomenclature and to assert the primacy of European culture" (63). Williamson also shows how this naming of slaves participated in the overall violence exercised against the slave's body and psyche. The classical names were also used for animals (domestic pets and working animals), thus obliterating in the minds of the slaveholders the difference between slaves and animals. As the author states, "Those who named their slaves Homer, Virgil, Pindar or Sappho were not offering any commentary on those individuals' poetic prowess. Rather, they were boasting of their own fluency in the language of power" (78). The third chapter is a fascinating contribution by Dan-el Padilla Peralta, "Athens and Sparta of the New World: The Classical Passions of Santo Domingo." He shows how classical tropes, figures and myths have been at the core of Santo Domingo's claims to racial purity and ethnic identity throughout its history. This particular way of presenting the DR, as the Athens of the New World, is placed within a clear racialized anti-Haitianism propagated by the Dominican Republic's dominant classes. This racist attitude, or this deep-seated desire to be seen by others as a...

Renaissance thought, as well as its intertwined reception of classical texts, generally receives little interest in either Classics or Philosophy departments. In this article, I outline my experiences teaching Renaissance philosophy in the format of a survey course treating a broad range of thinkers (e.g., Ficino, Della Mirandola, Machiavelli) and themes (e.g., “mirror for princes”, myth of Venice), examine the available materials and consider the student learning outcomes underpinning such a course. By evaluating the skill set that students acquire from such a course which could enrich their study of classical antiquity, I argue for a more widespread adoption of Renaissance thought on the undergraduate Classics curriculum and suggest how such a course might be implemented.

Reviewed by: The Art of Libation in Classical Athens by Milette Gaifman Renee M. Gondek The Art of Libation in Classical Athens. By milette gaifman. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2018. Pp. 196. Hardback, $65.00. ISBN 97-0-300-19227-8. One of the most iconic vistas on the Athenian Acropolis is a view towards the Caryatids, the maidens supporting the south porch of the Erechtheion. Their naturalistic contra- pposto stance, idealized proportions and Classical visages capture our attention. Less obvious to most visitors, however, may be the object held along their sides, a phiale or libation offer- ing bowl. Opening the book with a discussion of these sculptures and weaving them into her discussion throughout the volume, Milette Gaifman’s The Art of Libation in Classical Athens offers an introspective survey of libation imagery. Gaifman (G.) lays out the premise of her study in the Introduction. In addition to an examination of libation icono- graphy in Athenian vase-painting and sculpture (i.e., scenes, figures, actions and occasions), G. also contemplates the viewership of the objects in question. Divided into four chapters, the book is organized by the types of figures and scenes displayed; throughout the volume, G. incorporates pertinent literary sources. In the first chapter, “Chapter 1: Around the Altar,” G. examines representations of figures making a liquid offering alongside an animal sacrifice. In several of these scenes, divinities appear (or witness) the sacrificial acts, and G. questions how Greeks “understood the relationship between making a sacrifice and establishing a connection with the gods” (21). It seems that sacrifices can afford mortals the opportunity to reach the divine. Yet, depictions of these encounters seem to indicate that the humans are not aware of the god(s), and the god(s) can either acknowledge or ignore the sacrifice taking place. Though only a few examples are considered, G. is skillful in her visual analysis, and she is attentive to the nature of the artifact and the context of its display. “Chapter 2: Among Us” examines representations of ritual libations between two or more individuals. Lacking the presence of divinities, this category of imagery allows the viewer to focus on [End Page 120] the private context of the rite and the significance of the depicted relationships. While the identities of these figures are unclear, a majority of the scenes display a libation between a woman and an armed man, and their juxtaposition seems to suggest a familial bond. Augmenting this allusion of a family unit is the frequent appearance of an aged man observing the rite. For G., this figure’s passive role as a spectator recalls the external viewers of the vase. She notes that “such vessels invited ancient viewers to engage not only with the depicted moment but also with their own familial ties and commitment to warring sons” (85). G. explores libation imagery at tombs or grave markers in “Chapter 3: Lamentations.” Pouring some type of liquid to the dead was an essential funerary rite, occurring at burial and likely during subsequent visitations to the grave. Examples discussed by G. showcase the requisite involvement of women for the rite, and some of these scenes include a bystander who may or may not be the deceased (and the recipient of the liquid offering). In addition to the numerous representations of funerary libations on Greek vases, G. makes frequent references to its practice both in literary sources, like Homer, and on stage during the performance of certain tragic plays. The final chapter of the volume discusses the appearance of divinities offering libations (“Chapter 4: Gods’ Libations”). As there exists a “substantial corpus of depictions” (117), the meaning of these scenes has been analyzed by a large number of scholars, and G. reviews the many theories as to why a Greek god would be involved in this religious act. Yet, for G., the goal of the chapter is not to settle on one interpretation or present a new one altogether. Indeed, theories of this nature are unprovable. Rather, G. continues her analysis in the same vein as the previous chapters and “examines the visual force this imagery might have had in its ancient context” (121). The terse...