bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
Notes on three Athletic Inscriptions
Authors: Harris H. A. 
Published: May 2006

This is part of the famous inscription from the garden of S. Pietro in Vincoli in Rome, giving the career of the pancratiast M. Aurelius Asclepiades, who was at the height of his powers c. A.D. 180. Moretti describes it as ‘Certainly the most interesting of all agonistic inscriptions, not so much for its length and the number of victories and festivals recorded in it as for the abundance of expressions peculiar to the world of athletics’.Moretti's explanations of most of these expressions will command general agreement, but of those quoted above it is possible to take another view. The words ἀνέκκλητος and μήτε ἐκκαλεσάμενος—ἐκκαλέσασθαι he connects with προκαλεῖσθαι, and explains that Asclepiades was never challenged and never challenged anyone else. It is not easy to see why this should be a merit in a pancratiast. Moretti suggests that inferior athletes challenged to matches those whom they believed they could defeat, these matches being outside the normal contests, in which, of course, the competitors were paired by the κλῆρος. This is possible, and is supported by the word τολμήσαντος, but it is difficult to believe that a περιοδονείκης would think it worth mentioning, still less that he would repeat it. Moretti connects ἐπεξελθών with συναξελθών, and interprets it ‘He never agreed with an opponent to abandon a contest’ or simply ‘He never abandoned a contest’.
Gorgias and the Socratic Principle Nemo Sua Sponte Peccat
Authors: Calogero Guido 
Published: May 2006

More than a century ago the great German scholar Welcker tried to confirm the tradition that amongst the sophists the real master of Socrates had been Prodicus. Welcker called him his ‘forerunner’. In our century this valuation was once exaggerated to the extent of maintaining that the ‘principle of Prodicus’—that is, the care for the exact distinction and usage of the meanings of synonyms—had been the starting-point for every sound development in logic, whereas the methodical pattern presupposed by Socrates in his discussions was, on the contrary, a Prinzip der absoluten Vieldeutigkeit, a principle of absolute equivocation and ambiguity, and therefore the starting-point for every kind of trouble in that field.Of course, the connection of Socrates with Prodicus was justified by the fact that both, in their conversations, appeared frequently to be dissatisfied with certain answers or expressions of their interlocutors, and therefore discussed the meanings of certain terms used by them. But the difference between the two approaches was very sharp, as appears from every passage of the Socratic dialogues of Plato, in which Prodicus is introduced to explain the demands of his synonymies in the midst of the debate. He wants everybody to use, for example, the verb εὐφραίνεσθαι in some cases and the verb ἥδεσθαι in some others, following what he thinks to be the right usage, the ὀρθότης ὀνομάτων; whereas Socrates does not care what kind of words one may use, but is only interested in what one really expresses by these words, that is, the meaning which he gives to them. Both search for meanings of words: but Prodicus' question is: What does it mean?—and Socrates' question is: What do you mean?—Prodicus says: ἀνδρεία means this, θρασύτης means that: so you shall use ἀνδρεία in the first case and θρασύτης in the second. Socrates asks: What do you mean by ἀνδρεία? (τί λέγεις τὴν ἀνδρείαν;).
Tarsus, Al Mina and Greek Chronology
Authors: Boardman John 
Published: May 2006

‘The most interesting excavated site, after Al Mina—Posideion, is Tarsus. This area may yet hold the key to many important problems, and provide firm associations between East and West which will give fixed points for early Greek history and chronology’ (Dunbabin,The Greeks and their Eastern Neighbours33).The publication ofTarsusiii (reviewed later in this volume) offers scholars the opportunity to judge how far the high hopes entertained for the absolute dating of Greek pottery found in the town destroyed by Sennacherib in 696 B.C. have been fulfilled. Hanfmann, who publishes the pottery, had already given some indication of the results inThe Aegean and the Near East, 165 ff., a volume dedicated to Hetty Goldman, excavator of Tarsus. Some of the results seemed a little disturbing, like the appearance of East Greek bird bowls with rays before 696 B.C. With the publication we can see that the dating for Protocorinthian pottery of the end of the eighth century is moved back at least a quarter century (pp. 115, 129, 308), while the disturbance to the bird bowl series suggests even more radical changes, leaving something of a vacuum in the first half of the seventh century, so far as the usually accepted dates of Protocorinthian and East Greek pottery are concerned. Hanfmann does not pursue all the implications of this, nor was it his task to in this book. Fortunately the quality of the publication makes it possible to study these problems in some detail, to evaluate the evidence of the pottery and stratigraphy, and even to suggest possible accounts, different from those of the publishers, for the years around 696 B.C. In what follows I have taken Payne's chronology for Protocorinthian as the standard since none of the detailed attempts to upset it seem to me to have been at all successful, while much new evidence has appeared to confirm it. Dunbabin's.remarks on the possible margins of error have also to be remembered (inAE1953–54 247 ff.).
The Hoplite Reform and History
Authors: Snodgrass A. M. 
Published: May 2006

I have tried to analyse elsewhere the archaeological evidence for Greek armour and weapons, and their possible effects on tactics, in the critical period of the eighth and seventh centuries B.C. There, I was of necessity concerned with the monumental evidence, and did not look far beyond it. But there are historical implications which should be faced and also, I think, some further historical support for the conclusions there reached.The conclusions were briefly these. The equipment of arms and armour, which modern writers tend to group together as the ‘hoplite panoply’, was originally a motley assemblage. Certain of its components—the long iron sword and spear—were part of the equipment of most warriors of the era, and of many periods before and since. Other items resemble those used by Mycenaean warriors some five centuries earlier: these include the bronze plate-corslet, the greave and (an optional accessory) the ankle-guard. I cannot believe, with some scholars, that such advanced and costly products of the bronze-smith had been produced continuously throughout the Dark Age that followed the fall of the Mycenaean civilisation; and indeed for at least 400 years there is no evidence of any kind that they were. Rather, they were revived or readopted: the corslet apparently under the influence of the metal-working cultures of Central Europe and Italy, the greave and ankle-guard spontaneously, although the Epic tradition had never forgotten their earlier use. Other items again, the closed helmet of the type that the Greeks called Corinthian, and the large round shield with arm-band and hand-grip, were Greek variants devised as an improvement on foreign models, principally the metal open-faced helmets and round single-grip shields used by the Assyrians, Urartians and other Eastern peoples. The combination of all these elements together was an original Greek notion; as was their later association with a novel form of massed infantry tactics, the phalanx.
Hemiolia and Triemiolia
Authors: Casson L. 
Published: May 2006

‘Your coward’, says Theophrastus, ‘is the sort who, when aboard ship, thinks that every headland is a hemiolia.’ The outline of a promontory, in other words, looks to his timid eyes like the low sinister shape of a pirate craft. And the hemiolia was so characteristically the vessel of pirates that Theophrastus could use the term off-handedly, without any qualification; it conjured up in his readers' minds what ‘Jolly Roger’ does in ours.A hemiolia, then, must have been a ship designed particularly for lightness, speed and manœuvrability. But so were the twenty-oared vessels that Homer's heroes used or the penteconters that appear in subsequent centuries. What were the distinguishing characteristics of the craft that recommended it to pirates in particular?The name itself is so curious that one instinctively feels it contains a clue. The adjective hemiolios means ‘one and a half’ by analogy with words like trireme, quadrireme and so on, a hemiolia (sc. naus) should hlave a ‘1½-fold’ arrangement of the oars. An ancient lexicographer, Hesychius, describes it as dikrotos, i.e. with rowers in two levels, and with this in mind Lazare de Baif had suggested as long ago as 1537 that perhaps it had one bank of rowers from the prow to the mast amidships and two from that point to the stern. This solution, accepted for some time, has been put aside by modern writers. ‘As no ancient representation [of a hemiolia] has survived,’ observes Ormerod, ‘we are uncertain as to its exact design and rig.’ As a matter of fact, there is an ancient representation of a hemiolia extant. It has been under our noses for years waiting to be recognised.
Three Attic Vases in the Museum of Valletta
Authors: Cambitoglou A. 
Published: May 2006

On Pll. II–III and figs. 1–4, p. 8, I reproduce photographs of three Attic vases in the Museum of Valletta already published by Albert Mayr in Sitzgsb. d. philos.-philol. u. d. hist. Kl. der Kgl. Bayer. Akademie der Wissenschaften 1905, Heft III, pl. II, 1, 4 and 5.The first vase (Pl. II) is a late black-figured skyphos, height 165 mm.; diameter 222 mm. The obverse represents a chariot with two Amazons; the subject on the reverse is similar, but the second Amazon is here omitted. On both sides the scene is flanked by two sphinxes looking towards the handles. The vase belongs to the group of the CHC skyphoi, on which see Ure, Sixth and Fifth, p. 61, 26. 98–100 and Beazley, Some Attic Vases In the Cyprus Museum, pp. 22–3. For a list of vases of this group see Ure, CVI, Reading, p. 18.
The Dance in Greek Tragedy
Authors: Kitto H. D. F. 
Published: May 2006

On rhythm amd metre Aristoxenus always talks the plainest common sense—which is more than one can say about certain other ancient metricians. On Time, in its rhythmical aspect, he remarks: ‘Time is articulated by each of the three ῥυθμιƷόμενα, λέξις, μέλος and κίνησις σωματική.’ The Greek choral lyric was a triple partnership of poetry, song, and dancing, and Aristoxenus here points out that they share a common rhythm. (He goes on to develop the idea, but that need not concern us here.) We could safely infer for ourselves, even if Plato and Aristotle had not told us, that the music and the dance were far from being merely decorative or casual additions to the poetry. The poetry may have been Queen, as Pratinas maintained, but the philosophers took the other two partners very seriously as ‘imitators’ of moral ideas and the like; and there is every reason to suppose that the dramatists did the same. But writers on Greek Tragedy have had much to say about the λέξις of the odes; nothing about its two partners—for the good reason that we know nothing about them. Yet it does seem possible, here and there, to say a little about the dance. Whether it is worth saying, the reader must judge.The audience, sitting in the theatre, saw some kind of ordered physical movement in the orchestra as it listened to the singing or chanting of an ode. If in any given case we were asked what this movement was, our only answer is that we cannot possibly tell. Nevertheless, there are moments where we can infer, with more or less probability, the sort of thing that was being done by the dancers, and occasionally—notably in the Agamemnon—this dim and doubtful picture will contribute something to our appreciation of the drama.
Notes on the Monetary Union Between Mytilene and Phokaia
Authors: Healy J. F. 
Published: May 2006

I.G. xii (2). 1. 13–15.These lines come from the well-known unique inscription, in Aeolic dialect, recording the terms of a monetary union between Mytilene and Phokaia, whereby each agreed to issue, in alternate years, an electrum coinage for circulation in both cities. The inscription is, on the evidence of letter forms, accepted as belonging to the early years of the fourth or possibly to the end of the fifth century B.C. The story of the poet Persinos, attributed to Kallisthenes, implies that the treaty was still in operation within the period c. 373–55 B.C.The present note re-examines the meaning of τὸ χρυσίον κέρναν here, and in 11. 4–6 convincingly restored by G. N. Papageorgiu (Unedierte Inschriften von Mytilene, 16, no. 53) as:
The Floating Chest
Authors: Holley N. M. 
Published: May 2006

In his Handbook of Greek Mythology Professor H. J. Rose several times draws attention to the legendary theme of the floating chest, which occurs so frequently as to suggest that ‘some kind of ritual lies behind all these tales’. The theme is recognised by Dr. A. B. Cook (Zeus II, 671 sqq.) as one of the perennials of folk-lore, and parallels are cited from modern Europe, Siberia, and India. A study by M. E. Cosquin (‘Le Lait de la Mère et le Coffre Flottant’ in Revue des Questions Historiques, 1908), based on material drawn from North Africa, India, and Java as well as the Classical world, links the floating chest to the miraculous suckling of children.The preservation of a child or a mother and child in a floating chest was obviously a good story, and Euripides, by choosing this version of the Telephus legend in preference to that which left the child exposed on land, no doubt contributed to its popularity. Moreover, in legends of the introduction of a new cult the story teller often required a miraculous means of transport. The chest may have served a similar purpose to the floating rock of Celtic saints. But these explanations are not sufficient to account for the recurrence of the chest in a large number of stories which have important common elements.
On The Tragedian Chaeremon
Authors: Collard C. 
Published: May 2006

Chaeremon is a shadowy figure in early fourth century tragedy, but one of considerable interest. I attempt here an appraisal of his work, in so far as the fragments and the ancient testimonia allow.I. BibliographyText of the fragments: Nauck, TGF 781–92; P. Hibeh ii 224.The only general assessments of Chaeremon of any extent date from the nineteenth century with its more expansive approach. Best is G. Bernhardy, Grundriss der griechischen Literatur ii 2 (Halle 1859) 61–3, who there refers to the ‘sorgfältige Monographie’ of H. Bartsch, De Chaeremone poeta tragico (Mainz 1843) (inaccessible to me). Older literature is listed by A. Dieterich s.v. ‘Chairemon’, PW iii 2, 2025 (published 1899).Since Bernhardy the space accorded Chaeremon not just in general works but even in detailed studies of tragedy diminishes sharply. He still warrants a page or so in A. and M. Croiset, Histoire de la littérature grecque (Paris 1913) iii 402 f.; in Lesky he gets a brief mention, Geschichte 680. He is not mentioned by name in Lesky's Tragische Dichtung, and only in connection with fr. 2 by Pohlenz, Griechische Tragödie (Göttingen 1954) 407; he is ignored, for example, by Kitto, Greek Tragedy (London 1961).
Greek Mythology: Some New Perspectives
Authors: Kirk G. S. 
Published: May 2006

A new approach to the ancient world is only too often a wrong approach, unless it is based on some concrete discovery. But I think it fair to talk of newperspectives, at least, in the study of Greek mythology. Certainly the old and familiar ones are no longer adequate. Indeed it is surprising, in the light of fresh intuitions about society, literacy, the pre-Homeric world, and relations with the ancient Near East, that myth—one of the most pervasive aspects of Greek culture—has been left in its old and rather cobwebby pigeon-hole. Rose's simple paraphrases are accepted as adequate for students; Nilsson's sparse pages in his history of religion are rightly respected, though some of them are too simple; the Murray-Cook-Harrison-Cornford reconstruction of religion, ritual and myth is regarded as a little excessive, but perhaps not too far out; Kerényi and Eliade are roughly tolerated, if not widely read by Classicists, and their books are ordered in profusion for the library; the psychological side is adequately taken care of, or so it is supposed, by what is left from Freud and Jung, with Cassirer as sufficient authority for the sources of mythical imagination.Many of these critics had their moments of brilliant insight, but most were misleading in their theories taken as a whole. We can now accept that many myths have ritual counterparts, and some have ritual origins, without having to adopt Cornford's belief, developed after Harrison, Frazer and Robertson Smith, that all myths are such.
Athena Mancuniensis: Another Copy of the Athena Parthenos
Authors: Prag A. J. N. W. 
Published: May 2006

In the Department of Archaeology of the Manchester Museum is a terracotta figurine that is clearly intended to be a model of the Athena Parthenos of Phidias. Though very worn, and of undistinguished provincial Roman workmanship, a'description of the figure, and some comments upon it, are offered here because it perhaps sheds light on all our other replicas of this famous work (Plates XIX-XX)When the figurine first emerged from the Manchester basements in 1970 comparison with the other published replicas then generally known suggested that it had some unique and interesting features that would make its publication worth while; however, since then Mr B. B. Shefton has most opportunely drawn my attention to a figurine in Exeter that has many points in common (Plate XXII), while Mrs Leipen's valuable collection of all the replicas relevant to the reconstruction of the statue made at the Royal Ontario Museum lists another figurine, in Geneva, that must be from the same mould (Plate XXI). This figure was acquired by the Musée d'art et d'histoire in 1916 from a local family with no antiquarian interests and of unimpeachable reputation, in whose possession it had been since at least 1870—ten years earlier than the discovery of the Varvakeion statue, the only other replica-type in the round to have the column; it had evidently been found on their land at Bassy, near Seyssel in the department of Ain, about 35 km. south-west of Geneva. Its authenticity has at times been doubted, but among the compelling arguments that Deonna brought forward in its defence were the humble circumstances of its discovery, and the fact that its former owners had made no effort to publicise their find. In support of this one can now adduce the statuette in Manchester, whose provenance is unknown, but which was presented to the museum by Miss Hilda Ransome, the author of The Sacred Bee (London, 1937) at some date before 1933, since when it has lain among the museum's reserve collections, apparently forgotten.
Note on Sea-birds
Authors: Benton Sylvia 
Published: May 2006

I am delighted with Mr Anderson's article in this number of the Journal (171–2) on the Greek names of sea-birds. Δυτῖνος is a rare word and it must refer to a bird diving from the surface like our divers, the commonest of which is our Little Grebe (Podiceps ruficulus), but of course the term could include all ducks. The name κολυμβίς could also be applied to all these birds but it need not be confined to them. The Greeks knew that terns dived from a height and said κηξ or καυάξ: Homer compares the bird to the lady, who fell into a hold (Od. xv 479).There is a picture of two birds with plumage like that of Black-throated Divers or Great Northern Divers on a Middle Minoan mug found at Palaikastro near the sea in East Crete (Unpublished Objects 92 fig. 77: Zervos, Crete no. 742). One bird is diving from a rock, towards a root on the bottom, the other is standing on a stone opening its beak to give an alarm signal. It might be objected to this picture that divers do not dive from rocks, nor stand upright on stones; otherwise it is a good picture. According to the Guide to Birds of Britain and Europe, there appear to be two birds, but I can only find one Latin name: Colymbus Arcticus. In spite of its name the bird is known in Greek waters.
The Provenance of the Cambridge Skyphos by the KX Painter
Authors: Nicholls Richard , Buchholz Hans-Günteh 
Published: May 2006

The Attic black-figure skyphos (or perhaps rather more strictly, kotyle) of c. 580 B.C. shown here has already been published as of unknown provenance as the frontispiece of Sir Arthur W. Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb, Tragedy and Comedy (sides A and B) and in CVA Cambridge i pl. 2, 8a–b (side A and one of the handle zones). The purpose of this note is to draw attention to the extremely interesting provenance now established for it. At the same time, the opportunity has been taken to publish views of the side and handle zone not illustrated in the CVA and to add a few further comments on the condition of the vase, since such considerations have proved vital to its identification.Previously known under the interim serial, Fitzwilliam Museum X5, as an object completely lacking any record of source or acquisition, it has now been able to be fully documented and formally inventoried as no. GR.126.1892. The vase has been assembled from many fragments and its foot is completely missing, but the walls are largely intact down to a little above or below the base-line to the figured scene.
Hoplites and heresies: a note
Authors: Anderson J. K. 
Published: May 2006

A. J. Holladay has effectively reasserted the traditional view of the hoplite phalanx—that it was a dense mass of men, relying on the weight and cohesion of the whole rather than on the prowess of individuals in order to break the enemy's line.Further evidence in his support is provided by Plato'sLaches, where Nicias is made to praise the art of fighting (that is, single combat) in hoplite armour, as a fitting part of a liberal education. But when it comes to its utility in warfare he is less enthusiastic. ‘This science will help somewhat even on the actual battlefield, whenever one has to fight ranged in order with many others. But its chief benefit will be when the ranks are broken, and one has to fight singlehanded against a single adversary, and either, in pursuit, attack someone who is defending himself, or else, in retreat, protect oneself from the attack of another.’ Nicias clearly has in mind a situation like that from which Socrates extracted himself so handsomely at the Battle of Delium, as the speakers in the dialogue have just recalled; though Socrates of course made his retreat without benefit of the newfangled art of fencing.