Bryn
Mawr Classical Review 2003.03.09
Ian Worthington, John Miles Foley, Epea and Grammata: Oral
and Written Communication in Ancient Greece. Orality and Literacy in
Ancient Greece, vol. 4. Mnemosyne Supplement 230. Leiden:
Brill, 2002. Pp. xii, 206. ISBN 90-04-12455-1.
$82.00/EUR 70.00.
Contributors: John
Miles Foley, John F. Garc?a, E.A. Mackay, Elizabeth Minchin, Ruth
Scodel, Niall W. Slater, Johan Schloemann, James B. Sickinger, Han
Baltussen
Reviewed by James P. Holoka, Eastern Michigan University
(james@holoka.com) Word count: 2505
words
This volume collects papers delivered at a conference organized
by the editors and held at the University of Missouri in June 2000.
It is divided into three parts. Part One, "Literature, Art, and
Drama," comprises six of the book's nine chapters. In the first,
"Editing and Translating Traditional Oral Epic: The South Slavic
Songs and Homer" (3-27), John Foley addresses fundamental problems
of translation and publication of oral literature. In the process he
describes techniques that he will adopt in editing specific items in
the Milman Parry Collection at Harvard. The difficulties he hopes to
mitigate are essentially twofold: those associated with the shift in
ontological status of material from oral to written, and those
associated with translation into English (Foley advises strict
observance of formulaic repetitions). In clipping the wings of the
words of an oral composition-performance and setting it down in
print, we lose an original experience along with the context in
which it took place. Besides the obvious differences between
auditory and visual consumption of the poem, there is the whole
matter of context. How, for example, do we recapture the original
audience's sense of the tradition, with such distinctive
characteristics as formulaic resonance on the levels of phrase, type
scene, and story pattern? Foley sees answers to this question in
modifications of editorial practices and in the adoption of new
technologies of publication. In the area of printed publication, he
proposes the inclusion of more than one multiform of a given poem,
the use of marginal theme-labels (keyed to a glossary of
"traditional units"), and the provision of an apparatus
fabulosus to explicate the non-literal signification of words,
themes, and patterns by reference to the poetic tradition. In an
appendix to the article, a fifty-two-line text of a wedding song
from the Stolac region of Hercegovina is equipped with such
ancillary devices by way of illustration. These innovations seem
merely to be (granted, helpful) variations on conventional
texts-with-commentary. More exciting and truly innovative is Foley's
envisaged compact disc and, ultimately, online recensions of
traditional texts. These would facilitate an imitation of "the
original dynamics of oral tradition by networking all available
performances together" and enable the linking of the electronic
performance "pages" to all sorts of contextual information (10).
Might one also hope that such electronic editions could accelerate
the glacial pace of publication of the Parry repository, so that
more than a small percentage of those materials may see light (or
pixels) before, say, the centenary of their collection?
In Chapter 2, "Ritual Speech in Early Greek Song" (29-53), John
Garc?a seeks to build on fundamental insights in the epochal work of
Parry and Lord, who "took a crucial step in the right direction by
introducing the all-important factor of oral performance into the
study of the textual artifacts we call Homer" (29). He contends that
this achievement, being "fundamentally ethnographic," provides a
point of departure for the investigation of ritual speech in Homer.
Such an investigation would broaden our understanding of the context
of oral composition-performance by taking into account other forms
of social behavior. Just as "Kretschmer's law" regarding the use of
dialect in verse inscriptions is invalidated by the extent to which
epic forms are present even when local forms would have served both
metrically and semantically, so, too, in Homer the peculiar make-up
of formulaic language cannot be accounted for adequately by Parry's
assertion that metrical exigency was the overriding determiner of
word-choice. If metrical constraints alone did not motivate the
choice of archaisms, loan-words, etc., then what did? Garc?a
maintains that the beginning (but only the beginning) of an answer
lies in Aristotle's theory of poetic lexis. For here we find
a clear discrimination between "metrical-mimetic lexis" and
prevailing usage. But Aristotle also rigorously desacralizes poetic
performance, privileging its rhetorical over its ritual character.
Garc?a makes good this deficiency by adducing the results of
linguistic anthropology. These serve to remind us that "religion was
not the differentiated compartment of social life that it is ... in
modern industrial societies" (45). Garc?a goes on to discuss certain
controversies regarding the source of the authority of ritual speech
and concludes by showing how and where "a contemporary aetiology of
ritual speech is vestigially present in Homer" (50). The essay
sketches theoretical propositions to be more fully supported by
textual analyses in a foreseen (see esp. 47) larger study.
In Chapter 3, "The Evocation of Emotional Response in Early Greek
Poetry and Painting" (55-69), E.A. Mackay presents a concise and
well-argued revelation of parallels in the techniques of Homer and
black-figure vase painters. Her intent here is to refine Jasper
Griffin's observations on the employment of "significant objects" in
Homeric narrative and to detect and explicate their presence in
painted pottery. The author finds that in both the literary and the
artistic traditions "significatory objects ... direct our responses
by means of a contrast between the current narrative context and
another, causally or thematically related, one" (68). After a brief
survey of Homeric examples (Andromache's discarded headdress in
Il. 22, Agamemnon's staff in Il. 2, the dog Argos in
Od. 17, Achilleus' lyre in Il. 9, Hekabe's
robe-offering to Athena in Il. 6), Mackay concentrates on
allusive (or "indexically referential," in the author's jargon)
objects in four (illustrated) vase paintings: the wine-cup on a
proto-Attic amphora by the Polyphemus Painter in the Eleusis Museum
showing the blinding of the Cyclops, the himation of Helen on an
amphora by the Painter of the Vatican Mourner in the Vatican Museum
showing the reunion of Menelaus and Helen, the infant Astyanax on a
(Group E) amphora in the British Museum showing Neoptolemus' slaying
of Priam, and a palm tree and armor on an amphora attributed to
Exekias at Boulogne showing the suicide of Aias.
Chapter 4, "Speech Acts in the Everyday World and in Homer: The
Rebuke as a Case Study" (71-97), by Elizabeth Minchin is an effort
to explain certain regularities in Homer's rendering of rebukes in
five passages of the Iliad and two of the Odyssey. Now
repetitions of all sorts, from formulaic word combinations to type
scenes to larger narrative structures, have been studied by
Homerists with unremitting intensity for the past century or so.
Minchin here attempts to say something new and true about repeated
patterns in rebukes by applying the methods of the "new discipline"
of "discourse analysis." In general, she elaborates on Richard
Martin's contention (in his Language of Heroes) that in Homer
rebukes and other sorts of speech (or "speech acts," to use
discourse-analytical terminology) are "stylized and complete
versions of everyday talk" (74). In her view, the detection of
artistic or aesthetic motivations for evident patterns in Homeric
speech acts is wrongheaded: Dieter Lohmann (Die Komposition der
Reden in der Ilias) serves as whipping boy. This is nothing new,
since hard-line proponents of oral poetry theory have often found
fault with traditional literary critiques of Homer's poetry.1
But, Minchin takes the hardest liner of all -- Albert Lord -- to
task for his notion that singers acquired their ability to recount
routine behaviors or typical scenes as a part of a long professional
apprenticeship. Minchin counters "no such thing" -- they simply drew
on common human experience. Relevant specimens of the latter are
incorporated in the form of rebuke acts aimed by the author's friend
Ann at her two-year-old daughter, Aislinn. And, lo, sometimes the
same patterns as those in Homeric rebuke acts are vestigially or
mostly present therein. So far as Minchin lets on, however, her
speech-act guinea pigs did not emit dactylic hexameters or any other
verse acts.
Chapter 5, "Homeric Signs and Flashbulb Memory" (99-116), by Ruth
Scodel is an examination of the dynamics of meaning in Homeric signs
(semata). After a fairly lengthy typological survey of sign
categories: inferential vs. semiotic, temporary vs. durable,
situational vs. monumental, etc., Scodel analyzes recognition signs
in the Odyssey, specifically, between Odysseus and Penelope
(Bks. 19 and 23), Eurycleia (Bk. 19), Laertes (Bk. 24), Eumaeus and
Philoetius (Bk. 21), and Telemachus (Bk. 16). A particular concern
is the disclosure of emotive resonances: the charge carried by the
recognized sign often derives from its function as a memory cue.
Scodel suggests that the intensity of feeling evoked by the signs is
well captured by the modern concept of "flashbulb memories," which,
"in the language of contemporary psychology, are the peculiarly
vivid and strongly visual (but not always reliable) memories
individuals carry of particular events" (105). Especially perceptive
is the discussion of discrete but linked memories in the
scar-recognition scene. For the old nurse, the sight of Odysseus's
scar, as Homer presents it, triggers the memory of the day of his
naming, when Eurycleia placed the newborn infant in his
grandfather's lap. For Odysseus himself, of course, the scar evokes
powerful memories of the events of the boar hunt during which he
sustained the wound. "Each remembers as a story what the other
remembers as a powerful moment of lived experience, and their
memories thus overlap" (111). Scodel concludes by speculating
whether the Homeric sema may not "serve as a figure for the
written text and help explain why such a text might have been
created" (116). That is, the song in its written form may have been
a monumental verbal memory cue calling to mind earlier oral
performances.
In Chapter 6, "Dancing the Alphabet: Performative Literacy on the
Attic Stage" (117-29), Niall W. Slater analyzes evidence "suggestive
of a broadening of literacy over time" (117) in late fifth-century
Athens. Working from allusions and quotations in Athenaeus'
ultra-eclectic Deipnosophistai, he offers convincing
interpretations of three dramatic loci similes: in
chronological order, Euripides' Theseus (fr. 382
N2), Agathon's Telephus (fr. 4 Snell), and an
unknown play by Theodectas (fr. 6 Snell). In each passage, an
illiterate character describes the shapes of letters that spell out
the name "Theseus." Slater, who makes attractive guesses about
context in each case, argues plausibly for the influence of the wit
and language of earlier scenes on later. Finally, he discusses the
(problematic) significance of Callias' Alphabet Tragedy,
which he believes (following Ralph Rosen and pace C.J.
Ruijgh) to be subsequent to the other three passages and to the
introduction of the new Ionic alphabet in 403 B.C. In particular, he
detects a risqu? allusion (to ps?l?) in the dance of the two chorus
members representing the last two letters of the new alphabet.
"Athenaeus' collection of 'performances' of the alphabet implies
widespread minimal alphabetic literacy in the audience by the last
quarter of the fifth century. More than that, Callias' chorus
demands at least some public recognition of syllabic units for the
analysis of words -- even if they turn out to be four-letter words"
(128). A compelling clever extrapolation from slender but intriguing
evidence.
Part Two, "Rhetoric and Society," consists of two articles. In
Chapter 7, "Entertainment and Democratic Distrust: The Audience's
Attitude toward Oral and Written Oratory in Classical Athens"
(133-46), Johan Schloemann explores a curious paradox. On the one
hand, audiences desire the appearance of personal involvement and
spontaneity in an orator's presentation of a given speech.
Schloemann adduces the use of teleprompters to facilitate such an
illusion in our own day. On the other hand, those same audiences
appreciate the display of rhetorical skill that goes along with
meticulous prior composition of a speech in writing. This paradox
became especially striking in later fifth-century Athens, when the
writing of speeches (often by professionals) to be gotten up by
heart for later performance became routine. This was a specialty of
the Sophists (witness Gorgias) and so carried a sophistic stigma in
the minds of such democratic entities as juries and the ekklesia. To
avail oneself of the refined instruments of rhetoric was to risk
alienation of the very audience whose sympathies one was soliciting.
Yet that same audience expected verbal niceties unlike those of a
purely improvised oral presentation. Schloemann shows convincingly
that ancient Athenian listeners were quite finely attuned to the
differences between impromptu and studied speech. "The oral mode ...
was the more traditional one. The critical attitude toward rhetoric
was ... a fairly new feeling ... caused by the emerging democratic
consciousness and by the perceptible increase of rhetorical
professionalism ... in the late fifth century" (144).
In Chapter 8, "Literacy, Orality, and Legislative Procedure in
Classical Athens" (147-69), James P. Sickinger, author of Public
Records and Archives in Classical Athens, seeks to correct
certain misconceptions about the place of written documentation in
the making of laws and decrees in Athens. Specifically, he shows
that the citation of relevant written records (e.g., inscriptions
recording laws or detailing treaty arrangements) played a part in
Council and Assembly proceedings. The bulk of the article is a
survey of the ancient evidence for the appeal to written materials
in such venues. Sickinger's principal thesis is that "the citation
of older texts illustrates not the suspicion so frequently
associated with Greek attitudes toward writing, but a deep respect
for the authority of the written word in a central area of Athenian
democracy" (148). Moreover, the appeal to such authority was common,
if not exactly routine, already in the fifth century, and not only
in the fourth, as many scholars have contended -- "we should not
exaggerate the differences, or assume a sudden change in the use of
documents by speakers in the Assembly during the fourth century"
(167). The tendency of modern scholarship, Sickinger argues, has
been to stress unduly the oral character of legislative debate,
particularly prior to the fourth century, and to assume writing held
only symbolic, rather than direct, practical significance. This
fails to do justice to the complexity of Athenian attitudes toward
writing.
Part III, "Philosophy" comprises the volume's last article --
Chapter 9, "Philology or Philosophy? Simplicius on the Use of
Quotations," by Han Baltussen. Of all people, Simplicius would seem
the least likely to have anything whatever to do with the question
of oral vs. literate composition. Yet, within a very narrowly
circumscribed set of data -- quotation introductions -- Baltussen
succeeds in making a case for the (granted, highly attenuated)
influence of oral communication (or, rather, the idea of it) on the
sixth-century philosophical commentator. He first shows that
Simplicius is quite self-conscious in his use of directly quoted
material as an integral aspect of his method of explication. Special
attention is given to his manner of introducing such quotations, in
particular, the use of the verb akouein to mean either "listen" or
"read." The point is that Simplicius chose this word to signal the
priority of his authorities' ipsissima verba in any
philosophical investigation. "The evidence may be used to connect
this attitude and the view, held by Plato [Phaedrus 275-78],
Plotinus, and other Neoplatonists as well, that speaking is
extremely important in philosophy, and more important to do
philosophy and reach an understanding of reality" (185).
These collected papers offer uniformly acute and interesting
discussions, varying from closely (Foley, Garc?a, Minchin,
Schloemann, Sickinger) to tenuously (Mackay, Scodel, Slater,
Baltussen) related to the theme announced by the title of the
volume.
Notes:
1. Beginning with Milman Parry's
critique of, in his view, misguided interpretations by his onetime
teacher at Berkeley: see M. Parry, "About Winged Words," CP
32 (1937) 59-63, rpt. in A. Parry, ed., The Making of Homeric
Verse: The Collected Papers of Milman Parry (Oxford 1971),
414-18 vs. G.M. Calhoun, "The Art of the Formula in Homer - epea
pteroenta," CP 30 (1935) 215-27. Similarly, Anne A. Parry,
"Homer as Artist," CQ 21 (1971) 1-15 vs. A.B. Lord, "Homer as
Oral Poet," HSCP 72 (1968) 1-46 vs. Anne Amory, "The Gates of
Horn and Ivory," YCS 20 (1966) 3-57.
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