This is a lovely book on an equally lovely, often less than appreciated epyllion. The Ciris poet envisaged his work for Messalla as being like the robe given to Minerva at the Panathenaia. Not every reader and critic has agreed that Athena would have wanted this particular present. Relatively few scholars have celebrated the intrinsic poetic value and aesthetic worth of the Ciris; most of the bibliography is concerned with the vexing problems of when it was composed and by whom, with little exploration of why one should want to read it after all. This is an unfortunate if sadly familiar tale from the less traveled paths of classical literature, and as a whole the Appendix Vergilianaˆ, where the refugee Ciris found a home, has certainly been relatively neglected, at least by literary critics. Most scholars who have taken the time to study this pseudo-Virgilian miniature epic have made use of R.O.A.M. Lyne’s deservedly praised 1978 Cambridge “orange” edition. The present volume does not seek to replace Lyne; indeed, working through the poem with both commentaries is proof in itself of the deliberately complementary, synergistic nature of the two studies.
In recent years Boris Kayachev has expended an impressive amount of labor on the text and interpretation of this anonymous mystery of extant Latin verse. He has published numerous emendations in brief (mostly continental) journal notes, and he has produced the 2016 De Gruyter monograph Allusion and Allegory: Studies in the Ciris, itself a valuable study devoted to the rich intertextuality on display on every page of his subject. The present commentary perhaps is most effectively used in tandem with that earlier book, though it is self-contained and admirably concise in its comprehensive coverage of problems of date, authorship, text, and literary criticism. In short, this work is an essential companion to any serious consideration of the Ciris, and it provides the best available text of the poem.
Date and authorship: these are among the most puzzling problems for a reader to consider. Is it Augustan? Tiberian? Kayachev opts for a likely composition between 45–30 B.C.E., favoring the earlier years of that range. He is (wisely) ambivalent with respect to the popular theory that Cornelius Gallus may be our shadowy phantom of an author (with Virgilian borrowings and imitation consequently in homage to his friend). Similarly he exercises sensible sobriety with respect to the difficult question of the relationship of the Ciris to the Virgilian Eclogues. Extensive work has been done on these issues since the nineteenth century, and Kayachev does not essay to break new ground here. Rather, he provides a welcome summary of the evidence and of the bibliography, with judicious conclusions. The Ciris is in diverse ways pseudo-Virgilian; pseudo-Catullan; pseudo-Callimachean; there is a bite of Ennius for every serving of Euphorion. Whether or not it was composed sometime between the Georgics and the Aeneid, it constitutes an enigma that will retain its shadowy character until new evidence emerges to settle old problems. For the moment, Kayachev provides a reliable middle path that avoids both flights of critical fancy and abrupt dismissal of intriguing speculation, and with equal rigor. There is more on poetic engagement (e.g., on how Catullus was being read in the decades after his death) than on the relevant political drama of the age (i.e., the career of Messalla), but this is both understandable and appropriate given the scope of the work and the coverage others have afforded these topics. There is not so much here on the reception of the Ciris, but that is to be expected when there is more than enough Vorleben to occupy the author (and when one must dispense with the still occasionally encountered prejudice that the Ciris must be Silver Latin, since one cannot imagine that a poet contemporary with Virgil could have composed it).
Kayachev follows a practice in his commentary that I can only commend given the amount of work that has already been done on some of the more notorious problems posed by this poem: he is deliberately brief, because he does not seek either to duplicate Lyne or to indulge overmuch in exploring rabbit warrens that his predecessor wisely left undisturbed. The result is a work that will certainly be best appreciated by those who have ready access to his Cantabrigian predecessor. Kayachev is refreshingly free of polemic; he draws forth the best from those who have labored in the same vineyard before him; he provides a splendid account of the many textual problems that plague this difficult work. Kayachev’s is a model commentary to demonstrate how to grapple with the variants that litter an apparatus in testament to the efforts of others. The Ciris is rarely if ever required reading even for those pursuing higher degrees in Classics; the present volume makes a compelling case for why it should be assigned 1) for the training it offers in textual criticism; 2) for a study of neoterics that expands beyond what survives of Catullus; 3) for its relationship both to Callimachus and to Virgil. Those interested in questions of canonicity will find useful material in the commentary to support the inclusion of lesser-known texts in syllabuses and reading lists, if only to provide a fuller picture of the literary landscape of late Republican Rome.
The notes are more inclined to consider problems of text and syntax than of literary interpretation; this is partly in view of the author’s 2016 work, and those interested primarily in intertextual allusions will want to turn first to the earlier monograph. Those approaching the Ciris for the first time may appreciate how Kayachev manages to cover quite a lot of material in brief compass: this could easily have been a massive volume. Admirably, there is no attempt in these pages to proselytize the reader and to promote the conclusion that the poem in question is a masterpiece, or even an almost-masterpiece: its flaws are not brushed over, and its excesses are not excused. What is offered instead is a careful consideration of a work that has suffered mainly from textual corruption, with a secondary consideration being its production at a time when the bar for quality of Latin verse production was quite high indeed. The Ciris is a curiosity (at least in view of what has survived of classical poetry); Kayachev has not so much rescued it from obscurity, as he has reminded us why we should spend some hours with this miniature epic of Scylla and Nisus. The commentary will be most appreciated, I suspect, by those more interested in textual and intertextual problems than in detailed treatment of mythological material in particular and astronomical questions secondarily; there is no detailed overview of Scylla lore in the introduction, for example, though one could be constructed from judicious culling of the notes (not to mention the editor’s previous work), and it might have been worth including. Still, brevity has its virtues, and this book amply advertises them.
The Classical Press of Wales has been kind to Virgil and Virgiliana over the years, and the present title is no exception; it is lamentable that the late series editor Anton Powell did not live to see its publication. Kayachev’s work will be of appeal to a wide range of audiences: he provides a translation as well as introduction and commentary to his text, and a valuable bibliography. The translation is deliberately literal and devoid of any artistic pretense; Kayachev notes that its principal function is to tell the reader how he interpreted a given passage. Its inclusion nevertheless allows this book to be of use even to a Latinless readership, even if specialists will constitute the principal audience. I might also note the Classical Press of Wales produces unfailingly beautiful books of high printing standards and quality of binding: these are virtues one notes and appreciates given the increasing rarity.
The editor of this splendid, exemplary volume notes in his preface that a reviewer of Lyne had called that edition an excellent book on a less than excellent poem, and that he would be happy even for the reverse to be said of his work. I shall say that Kayachev has offered us an excellent book on a poem that merits considerably more honor than it has received, even if many will refrain still from calling it “excellent.” It would be a boon for Appendix studies if Kayachev would produce a similar edition on another of the works of pseudo-Virgil. For now, lovers of late Republican Latin verse owe a debt of gratitude to the editor for his devoted labors in explicating these corrupt, challenging, captivating hexameters.