Susan Stephens and Benjamin Acosta-Hughes offer a commentary on the Epigrams of Callimachus. The book comprises a full introduction to the poet, the poems, and the textual tradition, then the texts, translations, and commentary on the Epigrams, and, finally the fragments, including testimonia. This is a comprehensive commentary on the Epigrams of Callimachus and joins Acosta-Hughes’ treatment of the Iambi (2002), Stephens’ commentary on the Hymns (2015), Harder’s commentary on the Aetia (2014), and Hollis’ commentary on the Hecale (1990, 2nd edition 2009) in updating the magisterial but now aging edition of the complete works by Pfeiffer (1949-1953). Similarly, in the area of Hellenistic epigram it complements Sens’ commentary on Asclepiades (2011) in updating the foundational, but, again, aging edition of Gow and Page (1965). It is the nature of a commentary, of course, not to provide a novel, sustained argument or interpretation, but to provide a synthesis of the scholarship on the text to date, and Stephens and Acosta-Hughes do so admirably; especially useful is the bibliography of studies on individual epigrams included at the end of the commentary for each epigram. This review, then, will not attempt to summarize and evaluate an argument but rather proceed as follows: discussion of the introduction, followed by a discussion of recurring themes in the commentary.
The introduction is generously portioned, accounting for about one fifth of the volume. The typical topics are addressed: life and works, overview of the genre, issues of authenticity, language and meter, reception, textual tradition, and discussion of the approach. Additional areas of particular concern to Hellenistic poetry receive additional attention. The Hellenistic “poetry book”, where authorial arrangement of individual poems to respond to others, is an important, but difficult topic for the Epigrams. The “New Poseidippus”, where his collected epigrams almost certainly reflect this kind of arrangement, suggests the possibility that Callimachus’ epigrams were also originally collected in a book that reflected his choice of arrangements. Our texts of Callimachus’ epigrams, of course, come primarily from the Palatine Anthology, which often copies sequences of epigrams from the Garland of Meleager. Thus, when sequences of Callimachus’ epigrams appear in the Palatine Anthology, it is almost certain that they appeared in that sequence in the Garland, and that order may originate in Callimachus’ authorial collection. Stephens and Acosta-Hughes prudently withhold judgment on this final point. Both Poseidippus’ collection and Callimachus’ arrangement of his Hymns and individual elegies in the Aetia employ more subtle patterns of arrangement than we see in the short runs in the Palatine Anthology. I discuss individual runs below. It is a truism that Hellenistic poetry is self-conscious about its place in the tradition and displays its relationship to other texts. Thus, a full discussion of Callimachus’ relations with contemporary epigrammatists is provided. Stephens and Acosta-Hughes’ treatment of the identification of the “Telchines” in the Florentine scholia as including Asclepiades and Poseidippus (1b.4-5 Harder) is particularly well-balanced: the scholiast is probably not correct that Asclepiades and Poseidippus criticized Callimachus’ poetry for excessive brevity, since they were both primarily epigrammatists and Callimachus wrote longer poems than they did, at least; yet a number of Callimachus’ epigrams clearly engage those of Asclepiades and Poseidippus by parodying or capping them, and while the two epigrammatists lavish praise on Antimachus’ Lyde, Callimachus is consistently critical of it. Thus, the scholiast is probably correct that there was some sort of poetic rivalry or tension between the two earlier epigrammatists and Callimachus but does not seem to have accurate information about the details.
Topics
Arrangement
Although their position in the introduction is more or less agnostic as to whether we can recover anything of Callimachus’ original arrangement of the epigrams in an authorial collection, Stephens and Acosta-Hughes consistently address questions of arrangement when this is an important part of the appreciation of an individual epigram. Thus, on Epigram 1 they note the interpretive tradition that this poem stood first in Callimachus’ collection, as referencing a variety of Callimachean themes (children as a model of behavior, narrow paths, profession of doubt, preference for a slender woman), but do not endorse it. Yet, they do approve of the suggestion that Epigram 21 (funerary epigram for Callimachus’ father) and Epigram 35 (epitaph for Callimachus) are meant as a pair, despite their separation in the Palatine Anthology, primarily on the internal grounds that they supply information for each other: Callimachus’ father is unnamed in Epigram 21, but may be named in the patronymic Βαττιάδεω in Epigram 35 (if it is to be understood as a patronymic); Callimachus is unnamed in Epigram 35, but identified in Epigram 21. Stephens and Acosta-Hughes also entertain Gutzwiller’s suggestion that the arrangement of the short Epigrams 15, 60, and 13 (adjacent in the Palatine Anthology) has authorial sanction, contrasting the simpler 60 (i.e., originally intended as an inscription, or imitating inscribed epitaphs) with the more literary 15 and 13 (see below for book epigrams as a theme in the commentary).
Literary polemic
Stephens and Acosta-Hughes tend to be very receptive to any suggestion of literary or philological controversy in the Epigrams. Thus, on, Epigram 6, asserting Creophylus’ authorship of the Siege of Oechalia against its attribution to Homer, they see a pointed contrast between the generally positive language of the epigram with its final word μέγα, which they read as contrary to Callimachean poetics, with its preference for λεπτότης (as is seen in Epigram 27 on Aratus). Or, Epigram 7, Theaetetus’ “pure path” is taken to mean the genre of epigram, in contrast to large-scale works such as tragedy. And, again, Epigram 8, the most coveted speech of a poet is the brief νικῶ. Epigram 28 on Lysanies plays on a similar Callimachean theme, the avoidance of things common, with the twist that Callimachus’ beloved Lysanies turns out to be all too common. Stephens and Acosta-Hughes have a thorough note here arguing that ποίημα τὸ κυκλικόν does not refer to the “epic cycle” but entertain the sense “commonplace”.
As noted in the introduction, Callimachus often seems to refer to the epigrams of Asclepiades and Poseidippus in a rivalrous, if not necessarily polemic sense, by “capping” them, that is developing an idea introduced in the older epigram with further wit or point. This theme is developed further in the commentary on the individual epigrams. Thus Epigram 11 “caps” Poseidippus 102 A-B about a laconic Cretan by reducing the content of his inscription to the minimum Θῆρις Ἀρισταίου Κρής “Theris, son of Aristaeus, a Cretan”, and even that is too long (δολιχός). Again, Epigram 12 “caps” Asclepiades 31 G-P, Sens about an epitaph asking wayfarers to relay news of their son’s death to his parents, imagining the tomb as reluctant to grieve the parents. Again, Epigram 43 on the knowing narrator detecting the signs of love, caps Asclepiades 18 G-P, Sens by introducing the narrator’s authority from experience, at once slyly hinting that the narrator/Callimachus is a “thief” for reusing the earlier poet’s conceit. Epigram 58 on an unnamed shipwreck shares a number of features with Poseidippus 94 A-B, though in this case there is not a clear sense of “capping”, and both poets are working with a well-known commonplace.
Beyond epigram, Epigram 46 develops the theme of prescribing a cure for love to a doctor from Theocritus Idyll 11, with the characteristically Callimachean turn that the narrator suffers the same ailment. Epigram 23 on Cleombrotus’ suicide alludes to Plato’s Phaedo, where Plato indicated that Cleombrotus had been absent from Socrates’ execution; Callimachus’ epigram provides the sequel, where Cleombrotus kills himself on reading the dialog, instantiating Plato’s fear in the Phaedrus that reading, as opposed to actual dialog, cannot prevent misunderstanding (since the Phaedo rejects suicide). Epigram 59 looks to tragedy broadly, and readers may detect further intertexts, such as Theocritus Idyll 11 and Theognis, but much in this epigram remains a puzzle. Fragment 4 on Antimachus’ Lyde contributes to this theme, as well as serving as a battlefield in the “quarrel” with Asclepiades and Poseidippus, thoroughly documented in the discussion of the fragment.
Callimachus’ epigrams as “book epigrams”
The status of many of Callimachus’ epigrams, whether they were originally inscribed or whether they were purely literary was a central debate in the twentieth century. Stephens and Acosta-Hughes record key points of that debate in their comments on individual epigrams; their position tends to favor interpretation as literary epigrams whenever reasonable but allows for considerable nuance. Thus, Epigram 2 is purely literary; an opening expressing surprise at news of Heraclitus’ death takes its form from inscribed epigram, but springs into an interior monologue and never supplies information that would be necessary in an actual inscription, such as patronymic and homeland. Similarly, Epigram 15 plays with the conventions of inscribed funerary epigrams, providing the essential name, patronymic, and city, but focuses on the reaction of the reader. Another theme that Stephens and Acosta-Hughes emphasize, that tends to frame the epigrams as literary compositions, is Callimachus’ penchant for speaking names. Thus Epigram 18, an inscription for a shipwreck’s cenotaph, gives the name of the merchant as Lycus, adding the advice to refrain from sailing as he did in the winter when the constellation of the Kids sets; since Lycus is also the common noun “wolf”, Callimachus neatly reverses expectations in having kids prey on a wolf. Likewise, Epigram 20, ostensibly on the deaths of a brother and sister in Cyrene, seems to play on the names and circumstances of Plato’s Phaedo, a work otherwise known to be a target of Callimachus (in Epigram 23); in this case Stephens and Acosta-Hughes withhold judgment about the exact effect intended by the tension between what seems to be a real-world event and the more playful literary techniques presenting it. Again, Epigram 38, on a dedication to Demeter, formally includes the elements expected in a dedicatory epigram but, Stephens and Acosta-Hughes argue, its verbal complexity (e.g., the hyperbaton of ὁ Ναυκρατίτης … Τιμόδημος) argue for a literary exercise.
These are the most prominent themes that Stephens and Acosta-Hughes trace through the commentary. Others include Callimachus’ influence both on later epigrammatists and beyond, Callimachus’ experiments in meter and dialect (the latter often difficult to extract from the manuscript tradition), the Epigrams as court poetry, the epigrams on sex workers and other socially marginalized persons, talking objects, and the homoerotic epigrams. Altogether, Stephens and Acosta-Hughes have produced an invaluable tool for approaching the Epigrams, with exemplary scholarship, sound judgment, and occasional moments of wry Callimachean humor.