The first section of this introduction sets the scene for the volume as a whole by briefly considering the history of intertextuality within modern classical scholarship, both Latin and Greek, and then highlighting the special methodological and historical challenges that attend on comparative approaches to early Greek literature. As scholars increasingly agree on the need to read early Greek literature in a comparative way, it is argued, this only makes more urgent the question of how best to do so. The second section of the introduction highlights some of the core methodological, historical, and literary preoccupations of this book by exploring in chronological order two contrastive and complementary case studies from early elegy, one from Tyrtaeus and one from Simonides. Rather than providing a set of definitive answers about how these texts relate to epic tradition and/or particular epics, this section aims to give a sense of the sort of questions at stake in the following chapters. The introduction then concludes by summarising each of those chapters and highlighting interconnections between them.

This essay explores the role of the dictionary in religious history, specifically as a conduit of social and intellectual authority brought to bear in religious interpretation, sitting both upstream and downstream of the broader flow of history, culture, and forms of knowledge. Of particular interest is the history of three categories of reference works: the bilingual dictionary (or lexicon) focused on ancient biblical languages; the Bible dictionary, focused on biblical realia, geography, and similar topics; and the theological dictionary, focused on significant biblical ideas associated with particular words or the ancient speakers. The categories are situated historically in the development of biblical scholarship and philology in the West, from the pre-modern era through the contemporary and digital context. Two case studies demonstrate the intersection between dictionaries, biblical interpretation, and cultural ideologies: use of Bible dictionaries and lexicons in the antebellum period as a tool for attacking or defending slavery on biblical grounds in the American South; and the influence on theological dictionaries in the early twentieth century from the anti-Semitic context of Nazi Germany.

Scipio took the war to Africa, rather than destroying Hannibal in Italy as his enemies wanted. His temporary base was Sicily; at Syracuse, he incurred criticism by adopting Greek clothes and lifestyle. Leaving Hannibal behind was a gamble, compounded by the mere forty warships which accompanied him. Livy reports his ceremonial departure: liquid sacrifices poured from shipboard; the gods rewarded him with a favourable omen. In Africa, he won a dishonourable success, taking advantage of a truce. But it needed victory at Great Plains (203) before Carthage recalled Hannibal. Scipio’s battle tactics are analysed. Livy reports Hannibal’s departure contrariwise from Scipio’s, including bad omen on arrival. The two parleyed through interpreters. At Zama, Scipio defeated Hannibal comprehensively; tactics are analysed, including the decisive role of the Numidian Masinissa’s cavalry, Rome’s weakest arm. Hannibal persuaded his countrymen to accept the heavy peace terms, including annual indemnity, and territorial gains for Masinissa.

Chapter 15 details Goethe’s commitment to Greek and Roman art, demonstrating that it pervades all his activity, including his literary work. His interest was primed by his years as a student in Leipzig, but his Italian journey of 1786–8 was the turning point, for it enabled him to connect the theory which he had learned with his own creative practice. Moreover, Italy gave him access to both Roman and Greek heritage. The chapter also examines neoclassical tenets in Goethe’s writing on art and closes with an analysis of his characterisation of Winckelmann.

This chapter shows that the Slavic scripts roughly align with the cultural division between Slavia Orthodoxa and Slavia Latina. Although the Cyrillo-Methodian tradition of the Glagolitic script connected to the Old Church Slavonic language was originally not confined to either of the two areas and the Glagolitic script was used longest in Catholic Croatia, it is nowadays continued in the form of the Cyrillic script, whereas the Latin alphabet in Slavia Latina is based on a completely different, ‘Western’ tradition. However, mutual influences abound and can be seen in script changes and various instances of biscriptality as well as in the introduction of roman type in the West in the sixteenth century, the adoption of its design principles in the ‘civil type’ in the East in the eighteenth century, and the gradual replacement of both blackletter and Old Cyrillic, which was (almost) completed only in the twentieth century.

In this final chapter, the presentation of the ordo romanus manuscripts is discussed. Their use of innovative script forms and patterns of script use to highlight points of interest to their compilers is analysed. The characteristics of their physical format and layout are used to suggest potential uses and users. Finally, the employment of Latin in the texts is discussed, showing how certain scribes saw no problem recording the ordines in a form of Latin later characterised as ‘debased’. This questions the assumed notion of a wholesale reform of Latin and liturgical Latin in particular. The deployment of Greek in several ordines is also discussed, as a counterpart.

This section consists of four selections from Plato, Aristotle, Cicero and Quintilian that serve as an introduction to the classical understanding of rhetoric. What is rhetoric? Is it an art or a mode of knowledge? What is its value? What are its elements or parts?

This work compares the morphosyntactic properties of expressive suffixes in four European languages: Russian, German, Spanish and Greek. It shows that although these suffixes share the same expressive meaning, they differ significantly in their syntactic structure, namely in the manner and place of attachment in the syntactic tree. Thus, the Russian and Spanish expressive suffixes that refer to the size of a referent (or size suffixes) are syntactic modifiers, while the German size suffixes are syntactic heads. And in Greek, the two most productive expressive suffixes -ak and -ul have homophonous counterparts that possess contrasting syntactic properties: syntactic heads vs. syntactic modifiers. This shows that across languages as well as within single languages, such as Greek, there is no 1:1 correspondence between the meaning and the structure of expressive forms. These findings are further supported by two novel case studies of the homophonous suffixes -its (in Greek) and -ic (in Russian).

The aim of this study is to investigate aspects of expressivity in Standard Modern Greek (hereafter SMG), specifically cases in which expressivity shares the characteristic [+negative] or pejorative, in the more technical sense adopted here. Our research is focused on the level of morphology, particularly on productive word formation, both through compounding (first compound constituents with pejorative meaning, as in vromokánalo ‘filthy TV channel’ and paʎoiós ‘old/damn virus’, among others) and derivation (derivational suffixes with pejorative functions, such as ipurʝéi ‘bad ministers’, ipalilákos ‘insignificant clerk’ and fititarjó ‘a student lot’, among others). It should be noted that although the particular SMG morphological phenomena/devices have been scatteringly studied in earlier Greek literature, negative expressive meaning, that is, pejoration, has not been systematically dealt with so far.

Cicero is well known to provide information about early Roman drama through his frequent references to performances, biographical details and characteristics of playwrights, motifs in dramas, language and style. Most of these comments are integrated into a specific context and therefore reflect Cicero’s argumentative aim. Yet, at the same time, they reveal insights into the nature of Roman Republican drama and its assessment in Cicero’s time. This chapter explores Cicero’s comments on the language, style and rhythm of early Republican dramas as well as his taking up of linguistic features of these plays. By looking at a selection of representative passages, this contribution examines what Cicero says about the language and idioms of early Roman playwrights and analyses whether Cicero takes up any of the linguistic features highlighted or instead opts for alternative versions. Such a study enables a better understanding of the Romans’ own view of the language of their early dramas as well as of any differences and developments between the various playwrights and dramatic genres.

A prosopography of the soldiers of the cohort, making use of the new readings I have taken from the manuscripts. Next to each name, details of its conservation (complete or partial), rank and/or duty, and location (papyrus, line, date) are given.

This chapter traces the use of the sublime in ancient Greek and Latin literature from Homer through Augustine. Starting from the basic premise that the study of the classical sublime cannot be restricted to a reading of Longinus, it demonstrates that the sublime was a recognizable phenomenon, an ethical stance, a marker of ideology and value, and a topic of debate from at least the fifth century BCE. Ancient writers make sublime spectacles out of practically anything, from the starry sky to the gemstone, from monumental architecture to architectural ruins. Numerous texts imbue human subjects, such as mythological figures and natural philosophers, with a greatness of soul that electrifies readers with the thrill of the sublime, and when such figures falter or collapse, their fall from greatness is equally spectacular. The chapter concludes with a sample of texts that reject or problematize the value of the sublime or that police its use.

The account of the best life for humans, that is, of happy or flourishing life, was the central theme of ancient ethics. This book addresses other important questions about the value of life that likewise received much discussion in antiquity: What does it take to have a life that, if not happy, is at least worth living, in comparison to being dead or never having come into life? Does every human life have some non-instrumental value that makes it worth living? And do all lives that are worth living for those who live them also have to be meaningful, in the sense of making a positive contribution to other humans or world at large? In reconstructing, for the first time, philosophical engagements with these questions from a range of ancient philosophers, from Socrates to Plotinus, the work offers a fresh narrative of ancient ethics. It explores these views against the background of the pessimistic outlook on the human condition adopted by the Greek poets, but also points out continuities and contrasts between the ancient perspective and modern philosophical debates about related themes in biomedical ethics and in the ethics of procreation.

This chapter addresses the shift from multilingualism to monolingualism associated with the demise of the Ottoman Empire. It begins with a general overview of the linguistic conditions in the Ottoman lands, briefly surveying the historical dimensions of linguistic interactions reflecting the ebb and flow of Ottoman expansion and contraction, including the Westward movement of Turkic speakers into the central Islamicate lands and Anatolia from the eleventh century, the expansion of Ottoman rule into the Balkans from the fourteenth century, and the influx of Muslim refugees into the shrinking borders of the Empire as a result of military defeats and ethnic cleansing in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The chapter then focuses on three main factors affecting linguistic interactions in the Ottoman lands: (a) the inherently multilingual nature of Ottoman Turkish as an amalgam of three languages, namely, Turkish, Arabic, and Persian; (b) the lived linguistic experience in the Empire, including the lack of a clear correlation between ethnicity, religion, and mother tongue, e.g., large numbers of Armenians, Turks, and Greeks, whose first language was not, respectively, Armenian, Turkish, or Greek, and; (c) the ways in which the advent of nationalism and Western influence affected the linguistic scene in such a diverse and demographically mixed Empire. The chapter ends by considering post-Ottoman language policies and the monolingual orientation of the modern nation-state. The tensions between the two are often revealed when signs of the multilingual past emerge to disturb the monolingual assumptions of the modern, read “national,” era.