BMCR 2026.03.15

Aristophanes, Testimonia

, Aristophanes, Testimonia. Fragmenta comica, 10.2. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 2025. Pp. 263. ISBN 9783911065337.

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Natalia Kyriakidi, known for her Aristophanes und Eupolis: Zur Geschichte einer dichterischen Rivalität (De Gruyter 2007), contributes to the Fragmenta Comica series a German translation of, and commentary on, the 134 testimonia about Aristophanes.[1] A classicist not already familiar with that corpus will be surprised by how many of them refer to Socrates and his ridicule in Clouds; indeed they make the largest thematic group, so that, if we only had the testimonia and not the plays, we would assume that Kleon or Euripides were of little interest to the comedian and that Socrates was his obsession. Also surprising to the non-specialist might be that Aristophanes was more often considered a reformer than a representative of Old Comedy, in the sense of his later plays anticipating New Comedy (thus in Vita 1), and some sources even place him under Middle Comedy in the sense of him (supposedly) following the ‘golden middle’ of a mild personal abuse—thus e.g. Tzetzes (test. 83), in what is clearly a misunderstanding of Platonius (test.79): what was a stylistic spectrum in the latter Tzetzes perceived as a timeline.

Kyriakidi follows the numbering and, with few rightful updates,[2] the Greek text of R. Kassel and C. Austin (Poetae Comici Graeci vol. III.2, 1984) but provides a more selective critical apparatus. In the Vita of the poet (test. 1), she gives two versions, where Kassel and Austin only give one.[3] This is a welcome addition, as would have been the inclusion of the later vitae by Tzetzes and Thomas (only mentioned in brief, pp. 19-20).[4] Kyriakidi also brings to light test. 16a, from the Byzantine chronicle of George Syncellus, which records among the intellectuals of the 5th century BC “Aristophanes the comedian, Euripides the poet, and Heraclitus the natural philosopher”; it is striking here how Euripides is simply a ‘poet’ (pp. 59-60). On the other hand, I missed the inclusion of two testimonia which were recently brough to light by Nocchi Macedo (2022: 278-81,[5] missing from the bibliography): one inventory from an Oxyrhynchite library—ideally it should be added as test. 2d,[6] even though it is corrupt at the point where the list began—and one testimony on the cost of book production (and the value of Aristophanes) in 2nd-century-AD Oxyrhynchus.[7]

Kyriakidi’s translation is accurate, with necessary clarifications where needed,[8] and wherever a testimony quotes a third source (e.g. Aristophanes’ own verses), the citation is given; it would be even more practical if the citations were also given in the Greek text. Following the text and translation of each testimony, we are given citations to previous scholarship—a copious selection spanning from the 1810s to date. This rich bibliographical guide, as well as the following sections on Context (i.e. where in the oeuvre of the source-author is each testimony placed), make the book’s greatest asset, to my opinion.

The commentary is bibliographically updated and not burden with unnecessary jargon, but with varying attention to detail from testimony to testimony: only few receive a line-by-line commentary, while the vast majority, including some very lengthy testimonia, only receive an overall treatment. For instance, on the very lengthy and provocative test. 23 (Aelian on how Aristophanes was… bribed by Socrates’ accusers to mock the philosopher in Clouds—a rhetorically elaborate narrative full in anecdotes and fantasy), Kyriakidi unpacks with a convenient list those elements of the ‘conspiracy theory’ known from the earlier tradition and those brought in, or fabricated, by Aelian himself. For instance, the supposed bribery is first attested here (and then repeated by Tzetzes, Thomas, and Triklinios), while the supposedly enthusiastic reception of Clouds by the audience is only attested here (pp. 91-92). This element-by-element listing is very much useful but comes at the expense of close (line-by-line) reading. For example, the claim that the Athenian crowd enjoyed Clouds because they are malicious by nature (test. 23.10: φύσει φθονεροὺς ὄντας) has a literary precedence that would deserve some discussion—Theognis’ elitist maxims are the first to come to mind. Or the claim in test. 35.5-6 (by the sophist and historian Eunapius of Sardis) that Aristophanes was the first to openly ridicule Socrates (πρῶτος Ἀριστοφάνης … τὸν γέλωτα ἐπεισαγαγὼν) is with no apparent logic connected, by Eunapius himself, with Aristophanes’ ridicule of the trite methods of provoking laughter (35.8-9 καταμωκώμενος … ὅσα κωμῳδία ληρεῖν εἴωθεν εἰς γέλωτος κίνησιν)—as if Socrates were an old-fashioned comedian, one would deduce from the ‘argument’! Here it would take a comment to explain Eunapius’ incoherence: in a crude attempt to ‘fight fire with fire’, he appropriated Aristophanes’ claim that his comedy was the first to reject old comic tricks (Clouds 537-8: …ἥτις πρῶτα μὲν οὐδὲν ἦλθε…), to say that Aristophanes was the first person to mock Socrates; only he forgot to drop out what was now irrelevant to his narrative, thus betraying his haste. On test. 67, where Dio Chrysostom says that the comic poets fawned on their audience only to make their venomous satire acceptable, we would need a comment at least about the wonderful comparison which Dio makes: “like wet nurses who feed children something unpleasant after smearing the rim of the cup with honey” (p. 143)—this is actually taken from Lucretius (DRN 1.936-8).

Some other notes / alternative suggestions on specific testimonia:

  • 36 n. 23: The lectio Lysistratos in Suda’s list of the plays (instead of Lysistrata) is not, I believe, “eine lectio difficilior, was sich eher als Abschreibefehler rechtfertigen ließe”. Instead, it seems to me a conscious (if erroneous) spelling, which betrays the scribe’s memory—but misunderstanding—of Lys. 1105, where the Spartan delegate says: [Bring here Lysistrata] or Lysistratos if you like! What in fact is an alternative sexual preference for the Spartan was mistaken by the scribe as an alternative title for the play.
  • 41: According to test. 3, Aristophanes was said by some to have been “born on the fourth day [of the month]” and this anecdote draws on a proverb referring to Heracles (=Zenob. Prov. 6.7), meaning that he wasted his early years labouring for others. Kyriakidi’s comment could have been more specific: the proverb befitted Aristophanes not because he toiled for others (other didaskaloi) in general, like another Heracles toiling for Eurystheus, but because his debut onstage was Knights: his 4th play after Banqueters, Babylonians, and Acharnians (all staged by Callistratus). Moreover, the origin of the proverb should be explained: in the Attic calendar, the 4th day of each month was sacred to Heracles (and also to Hermes, Aphrodite and Eros).
  • 61: The erroneous description of Aristophanes as an architect in test. 17 (and in poor Latin: ‘architector’ instead of ‘architectus’) indeed betrays “einem nicht-lateinischen Muttersprachler aus dem Griechischen übersetzten Textes”. I only missed the possible mechanisms behind that cute error; perhaps the Greek model said ὁ κωμῳδός (mistaken as οἰκοδόμος : Wachsmuth) or ἄριστος τεχνίτης (mistaken as ἀρχιτέκτων : Cantarella).
  • 104: The provocative view that Socrates was anything but ugly, as Epictetus claims in test. 39, was recently revived by D’Angour in Socrates in Love: “a strong and attractive young man” (2019: 5). Although that argument was harshly criticised here in BMCR as pure fiction devised for the screen, this testimony proves that such a view existed already in antiquity; indeed Epictetus speaks of multiple earlier sources (“everyone who has written about Socrates testifies…”). Perhaps a more nuanced revisiting of the question is now due.
  • 118: Little Metrophanes, son of the sophist Lachares (5th c. AD), once shouted “I am bald Aristophanes!” even though he had never heard anything like it before (test. 50). According to Kyriakidi, this anecdote apparently refers to the lessons of the father—that’s where the young boy must have heard the joke. Here Kyriakidi misses the obvious similarity between the names Aristophanes and Metrophanes: the boy jokingly meant “I am almost an «Aristophanes»—by a hair’s breadth”. Moreover, because it was Peace where Aristophanes had celebrated his baldness (771-3), I suspect that there is an intertextual pun between ἔκγονος Λαχάρου (in the test.) and Παῖς Λαμάχου (the boy from Peace).

Few corrigenda:

  • 21 ad v. 1,7 / v2,6: ἁμαρτάνοντας (instead of ἁναρτάνοντας)
  • 33 ad vv. 7-8, 14, 19, 22: The numbering of the lines in the commentary is inconsistent with the numbering printed alongside the Greek text.[9]
  • 76 n.52: Halliwell 1984 (not 1884).

None of my reservations on points of detail changes the big picture: although a specialist may have wished for a line-by-line commentary for more of the testimonia, overall Kyriakidi’s book is well-researched, bibliographically up-to-date, reader-friendly, and will become standard reference in any study on Aristophanes’ life and reception in antiquity and the middle ages. This is the antepenultimate volume to appear in the eleven-volume set dedicated to Aristophanes in the Fragmenta Comica series. The set, which includes the commentaries by Andreas Bagordo (five in number), Christian Orth, Olimpia Imperio, Maria Torchio, and now Natalia Kyriakidi (one volume each), will soon be complete; only pending are the volume on Daitales–Dramata by Sarah Miles and an introductory volume by Alan Sommerstein. One cannot be anything but grateful to this brilliant team of experts for making the non-canonical Aristophanes accessible.

 

Notes

[1] English speakers have Henderson’s translations of the testimonia in the Loeb series (J. Henderson, Aristophanes: Fragments, Cambridge, MA 2007).

[2] In test. 35 she uses the superior text by Goulet (R. Goulet, Eunape de Sardes, Vie de philosophes et sophists, vol. 1, Paris 2014); in test. 57 the text by Janko (R. Janko, Philodemus: On Poems, Books 3–4, Oxford 2011).

[3] Proleg. de com. XXVIII and XXIXa (ed. Koster). K-A only give the former.

[4] Proleg. de com. XXXIIa-b and XXXΙΙΙ1 (ed. Koster).

[5] Nocchi Macedo, G. (2022), “Aristophanes in antiquity: quotations and testimonia in papyri”, APF 68, 246-86.

[6] PSI inv. 19662v, lines 28 ff.: Ὁµήρου ὅσα εὑρίσκ(εται) │ Μενάνδρ(ου) ὅσα εὑρίσ(κεται) │ Εὐριπίδου ὅσα εὑρίσκ(εται) │ Ἀρ[ιστ]οφά(νους) │[       ]εινου. In the case of Aristophanes there was a list of plays, instead of the ὅσα εὑρίσ(κεται) formula, as the coda of the following line suggests.

[7] Brit. Libr. inv. 2110, column 1, lines 18–19: ὑ]πὲρ γράπτρων Πλούτου Ἀριστοφά│[νους καὶ…].υρου καὶ Θυέστου τρίτου Σοφοκλέο(υς) (δρ.) ιβ´ (“For the copying of Aristophanes’ Wealth, of… , and of Thyestes III by Sophocles: 12 drachmae”.

[8] The scholar who wishes to deal with textual issues should be very cautious of Kyriakidi’s use of parentheses in her translation: sometimes they render what indeed is a phrase in a parenthesis in the Greek text, some other times they offer necessary clarifications (but occasionally square brackets are used for that purpose), and some other times they stand for what in the Greek text is the critical mark of interpolation (<…>).

[9] “Zeile 11 betrifft eine Konfusion der Buchstaben μ und ν…” should be “Zeile 12”. “2a.14 Αἰολοσίκων … und 2a.25 Τριφάλης” should be “2a.16 Αἰολοσίκων … und 2a.27 Τριφάλης”. What is line 19 in the commentary (recording Εἰρήνη) is actually line 21 in the printed text. What is line 22 in the commentary (recording Νεφέλαι β΄, Νῆσοι) is actually line 24 in the printed text.