As thin as the satirical booklet of A. Persius Flaccus may be, there is a wealth of literature on him—a body of scholarship now enriched by Spyridon Tzounakas’s monograph, which is both distinctive in perspective and comprehensive in scope. The author’s approach is grounded in the astute observation that several of Persius’s satires feature Greek common and proper names in prominent positions, with varying degrees of emphasis. This phenomenon, found in a Latin-language poetic corpus, merits explanation in itself.
The presence of these Greek terms is already notable in the Choliambus, which serves as both poetic program and preface to the collection. Following a concise introduction (“Introduction: The Historical and Literary Background of Persius’ Attitude to Graecisms”)—where Tzounakas emphasizes the strong philhellenic tendencies of Neronian literature and clarifies that Greek terms do not appear with equal weight throughout Persius’s work (p. 14)—he immediately turns to an analysis of the poem that opens the volume (“The Greek Words in the Prologue”). In a thoughtful gesture to the reader, Tzounakas includes the Latin text of each poem at the beginning of the relevant chapter, highlighting Greek or Greek-derived terms in bold and providing English translations to aid interpretation.
This chapter is divided into two sub-sections: the first focuses directly on the poem itself (“Rejecting Divine Inspiration”), while the second examines its broader context (“The Greek Words in the Prologue and Neronian Culture”). The analysis of this prologue-like poem exemplifies Tzounakas’s method of interpretation: he identifies and emphasizes Greek words in much the same way across the other satires, adhering to a generally linear interpretive strategy that ensures clarity and coherence.
A key aspect of this methodology is etymological analysis, which Tzounakas uses convincingly—for instance, to link the reference to the Hippocrene spring (fonte … caballino) with the name of Hipponax, the Greek poet known for his choliambic verse. This etymological connection supports Tzounakas’s compelling identification of Persius as a kind of Roman or alter Hipponax (p. 25). This sharp insight may further bolster the traditional reading of semipaganus as the key concept of this introductory satire.
Tzounakas also explains the shift in focus during the second half of the poem—from poetic concerns to issues of money and criticism—as a natural development stemming from the poem’s internal logic and identity. Furthermore, the prominence of Greek names and terms lends credibility to Tzounakas’s inclusion of Propertius’s poetry within the network of allusions.
Noteworthy is the linking of the poem’s closing phrase (Pegaseium nectar) with its opening line (Nec fonte… caballino), which the author interprets as clear evidence of ring composition,—a structural feature he considers characteristic of Persius’s satires (p. 33). From this perspective, Angelo Poliziano’s emendation of the text—since accepted by authoritative editions—may indeed be justified. However, it would have been worthwhile for the author to engage more closely with the textual tradition that persisted into the early modern period, which at times employed the word melos in a bawdy form to avoid metrical irregularities.
In the second subsection of the chapter, the author interprets Persius’s poetic creed—specifically through the symbolism of the two peaks of Parnassus—as a rejection of the Apollonian dimension of the Neronian poetic ideal, a conclusion that is well justified. More uncertain, however, is the proposed connection between a line from Nero’s poem on pigeons (preserved by Seneca) and the birds mentioned in the prologue. Given the uncertain dating of both the Choliambus and Nero’s poem, we cannot be certain that Persius was familiar with the latter. This issue is worth emphasizing, as the ambiguity surrounding the chronology makes it difficult to determine any definitive influence or intertextual relationship.
The most extensive part of the monograph follows: the analysis of the first satire (“The Greek Words in the First Satire”). This is arguably Persius’s most important poem in terms of its literary program. Although, according to the poet’s ancient biography, the final arrangement of the volume was entrusted to his literary executors, L. Annaeus Cornutus and Caesius Bassus, this satire holds a prominent position as the opening piece in the collection. Tzounakas devotes to it an interpretation proportionate to its significance, dividing the discussion into seven subchapters, each examining the role of different literary genres and forms within the framework of Persius’s aesthetics and the evolving stages of satire.
His analysis begins with the name Polydamas, which appears in the fourth line of the poem. Once again, his approach serves as a methodological model of precision: on one hand, he considers the ancient interpretive tradition, which he ultimately rejects based on careful reasoning; on the other, he delves into the word’s etymology. In the first case, he discounts—on chronological grounds—the idea that Persius could be alluding to Nero’s marriages. He is, however, more open to the interpretation that the reference may relate to Nero’s literary tastes, particularly his later poem Troica, though even this connection is chronologically uncertain. Ultimately, Tzounakas leans toward what may be the most plausible explanation: associating the name with Dama, a common name for Roman slaves. Still, he acknowledges the possibility that the name held a different contemporary connotation, one that may have been lost or forgotten over time.
All this serves only as a preview of the analysis of the first satire, as the author subsequently undertakes a meticulous examination of all the Greek words in the poem—as well as words of Greek origin that had already been assimilated into Latin by that time (e.g. trutina)—demonstrating through careful analysis their clear significance in articulating Persius’s literary program. Tzounakas also investigates several terms that one might not immediately recognize as Greek in origin (e.g. citreis), further enriching his linguistic exploration.
To summarize Tzounakas’s interpretation of Persius’s first satire, the central point is that, in his view, Persius clearly positioned himself in opposition to Nero’s philhellenic literary agenda. There is no doubt that Nero exhibited a pronounced affinity for Greek culture, the earliest major expression of which was the first Neronia, held in AD 60—a spectacle Persius may have witnessed. The key questions, however, are whether the roots of Neronian Hellenism extend further back, and whether Persius’s target was not Nero himself but rather an earlier and broader Roman literary philhellenism, of which Nero became a prominent proponent after 59 AD. Tzounakas is aware of this complexity, which is why he devotes a separate chapter to lines in the satire long regarded—on the basis of Persius’s scholia—as quotations from Nero (“Appendix: The Authorship of the Quoted Excerpts at 1.93–95 and 1.99–102”). Building on his earlier analyses, he concludes that these lines are in fact original to Persius and serve as examples of various poetic anomalies.
Following the detailed examination of the first satire, which constitutes the core of the monograph, Tzounakas departs from the canonical order of the satires as presented in the collection. He next offers an in-depth discussion of the first twenty-nine lines of the fifth satire (“The Greek Words in the First Part of the Fifth Satire: The Greek Words and the tragoedia cothurnata”). This shift is entirely justified, as the title of the chapter indicates: this section of the fifth satire engages with the genre of tragedy, thereby forming a natural thematic continuation of—and complement to—the first satire.
The author then proceeds to discuss the Greek words found in the remainder of Persius’s poems, including the rest of the fifth satire, in a much more concise section of just over forty pages (“The Greek Words in the Rest of Persius’ Work”). Among his many observations, that on the vocative Chrysippe at the end of the sixth satire stands out. Tzounakas links it to the prologue through the etymology of the name (chrys- and hippos), which he interprets as further evidence of the volume’s ring-compositional structure.
While I appreciated the subtle and detailed analysis, which opens up new interpretative perspectives, a few critical considerations arise. The first—and perhaps most significant—concerns the question of chronology. Although some evidence exists regarding Nero’s engagement with contemporary poets and his organization of a literary circle following the death of his mother, little is known about the extent of Persius’s involvement in this milieu. According to ancient biographies, Persius and Lucan shared a common teacher in Cornutus, who, as reported in an anecdote by Cassius Dio, also expressed himself on literary matters to Nero (cf. Historia Romana 62. 29). Lucan certainly belonged to Nero’s circle, but whether he maintained a relationship with Persius is uncertain. It is not even clear whether Persius was ever invited to join the imperial circle. Furthermore, we lack reliable information about the chronological order in which Persius composed his satires. It seems unlikely to be a coincidence that the satires addressed to the two editors,—Cornutus and Bassus,—were placed at the end of the volume, since any other arrangement might have exposed the editors to criticism.
In addition to the issue of chronology, the reliability of the ancient scholia presents another problem. While it is known that commentaries on Persius’s satires were composed as early as antiquity, the extant collection is extremely heterogeneous, comprising materials from different periods and of widely varying quality, from insightful observations to entirely arbitrary interpretations. It must therefore be stressed that the Commentum Cornuti should be used only with great caution and critical discernment.
A third point of critique concerns the author’s reliance on etymology as a key interpretative tool. For a poet with a Stoic philosophical background, such an approach is certainly justifiable. However, it must be remembered that for Persius, etymology was not a scientific discipline, but a flexible rhetorical device used to support his literary aims. This is particularly evident given that his teacher, Cornutus, authored a theological treatise explaining the Greek pantheon through the etymologies of the gods’ names. These etymologies, however, can hardly be regarded as scientific explanations in the modern sense—the kind on which Tzounakas often relies.
Finally, one should note the absence of a clear definition of what constitutes a “Greek word.” Although the author occasionally acknowledges the nuances—distinguishing between unusual Greek terms, Greek-origin words already integrated into Latin, proper names, or Greek termini technici (especially in medical or philosophical contexts)—he does not address this issue systematically in a separate chapter. As a result, his otherwise sound position on this matter can only be pieced together from scattered remarks throughout the monograph.
Despite these critical observations, the author has produced a highly commendable work that significantly enriches Persius scholarship and will undoubtedly become an indispensable resource for future research. The extensive annotated appendices often rise to the level of independent treatises, greatly assisting the reader in navigating specific issues. The logical structure and clear organization of the volume are complemented by a comprehensive bibliography and indexes, which further enhance the usability and accessibility of the work.