A thought on the end of Juvenal

The 16th and last satire breaks off mid-flow.  The ending is lost, therefore, or perhaps was not written.

Ancient books were written on rolls.  One modern author theorized that the end of a text ought to be safer than the start, because it should be inside the rolled up scroll.  He seems to think that a roll would normally be stored ready to read.

But it seems to me, in my ignorance, that the reverse is the case.  The average ancient reader would get to the end of his reading, and find his roll almost fully rolled-up.   It is possible, of course, that some readers would then unwind the whole roll and roll it back up the correct way.  But human nature being what it is, surely most of the time the reader will just pop the roll back in its cylindrical case.  A reader who takes up a roll to read and finds it is back-to-front has an incentive to rewind it.  A reader who wants his lunch has none.

I suggest, therefore, that as a rule most rolls were stored with the end hanging out.  This would explain quite simply why so many ancient texts are mutilated at the end, without requirement for the hypothesis that they were written in codex form.

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The manuscripts of Juvenal

L. D. Reynolds, Texts and Transmissions: A survey of the Latin classics, Oxford 1983, is the first port of call for any enquiry into the transmission of any of the Latin classics.  On p.200-3 is the article by R. J. Tarrant on Juvenal.

Juvenal went through a period of obscurity after his own times.  Not cited by Donatus, or Jerome, he is referenced more than 70 times in the commentaries on Virgil by Servius.  Some of the manuscripts include subscriptions which suggest Servius may have been connected to their rediscovery: ms. K, for instance, contains Lego ego Niceus apud M. Serbium Romae et emendavi — I, Nicaeus, read this at the house of M. Servius in Rome and corrected it, and ms. L a version of the same.

More than 500 manuscripts later than the 9th century exist.  Unfortunately, by the 4th century, a considerable number of spurious lines  had already found their way into many copies of the text.  Difficult language was sometimes replaced by simpler expressions.  The vast majority of the medieval manuscripts derive from such corrupted copies.

As a rule we tend to find that medieval manuscripts go back to a single Dark Ages exemplar, or perhaps a few.  In the case of Juvenal, however, we can clearly see that two ancient families of manuscripts both gave rise to medieval children.  For in addition to the majority, we have a few manuscripts which preserve a more correct and less interpolated text, although the text itself is often rather more corrupt than in the interpolated copies.

The better mss. are:

  • P:   Montpellier H 125, first quarter of the 9th century, from Lorsch (online here).  Once owned by Pierre Pithou, who used it for his edition of 1585.  The Pithoeanus is the best and most important manuscript of Juvenal.  It also contains Persius.
  • Arou.:  Aarau, Stadtarchiv I, Nr. 0. The fragmenta Arouiensia.  These are five leaves from a destroyed manuscript of the 10th century, written in Germany, and broken up to use in bindings.  They are now in the Stadtarchiv in Aarau  (website here) An enquiry by email to them got the reply: “Das Juvenal-Fragment befindet sich im Stadtarchiv Aarau, I Nr. 0, vgl.: Katalog der mittelalterlichen Handschriften des Klosters Wettingen ; Katalog der mittelalterlichen Handschriften in Aarau, Laufenburg, Lenzburg, Rheinfelden und Zofingen, S. 195f.”.  It also contains scholia, which are important for several reasons.  Firstly each scholion is introduced by a quotation of a few words from the text.  These headwords or lemmata are themselves valuable for the authentic text.  Secondly the scholion itself sometimes reflects a different version of those same words, showing that the two were put together at different times.
  • Sang.:  St. Gall ms. 870, second quarter of the 9th century.  This is a florilegium — an anthology — which contains 280 lines of Juvenal.  Pp.40-326 contain the ancient scholia.
  • R:  Paris latin. 8072, from the end of the 10th century, probably French, containing long sections of the text.
  • V:  Vienna 107, end of the 9th century, containing book 1, line 1 – book 2, l.59 and book 3.107-5.96.

P, Arou. and Sang. are very closely related.  The first two are almost identical, with the text even laid out in the same manner on the page.  R and V are less reliable, and V has been much influenced by the other family.

The remaining manuscripts — hundreds of them — are hard to classify.  No stemma can be constructed because cross-contamination is so general, and even geographical groupings are pretty blurred.  This will not surprise any manuscript enthusiast.  For heavy lumps of wood and parchment, manuscripts travel about just as much as rock groups on tour, or so it seems sometimes.

Finally there are some fragments of ancient books containing Juvenal.  Two pages of a 6th century volume exist in ms. Vatican lat. 5750, with scholia, and also a portion of Persius.  More pages from a different 6th century book exist in Milan in ms. Ambrosianus Cimelio 3.  Finally a parchment leaf from Antinoe, ca. 500 AD, contains 49 lines of book 7.  None of these fragments agrees consistently with either of the medieval groups, unfortunately.

By the last decade of the 4th century, Juvenal had been equipped with a substantial commentary, which is the source for our scholia vetera (there are also Carolingian scholia), found in the three mss. P, Arou. and Sang.  Mommsen discussed the date of the commentary in his Gesammelte Schriften 7 (1909), p.509-11: Zeitalter des Scholiasten Juvenals.  The scholia must post-date 352-3, since there is a reference in the scholion on Juvenal book 10, l.24 to a praefectus urbis named Cerealis.  But much of the material must be older, or so the footnote says.  It can hardly date later than the abolition of paganism — the scholiast shows little knowledge of Christianity, and resorts to quoting Tacitus.  It is difficult to believe that the compulsory state religion could be unknown in the 5th century, and indeed the writer says that the gods are still worshipped.  The festival of the Matronalia is a state festival, as it still is shown in the Chronography of 354, but not in that of 449.  Likewise the term used for the silver coinage is not the silliqua of the 5th century, but the older terms argenteolus or nummus.

Mommsen concludes  that the commentary was composed ca. 400 AD, and that later, as is usual with ancient commentaries, it was pillaged for the materials to create the scholia in the margins of the new-fangled codex-style books.

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The scholia on Juvenal

A few days ago I managed to find an edition of the “scholia vetera” on Juvenal, in an 1839 edition .  It starts on p.153, here.   It’s not a critical edition.  Indeed I believe the critical edition is that of 1937, but this is not accessible to me.  So … let’s make do with what we have.

The scholia begin with a vita.  Then the scholia begin, starting with some remarks on Semper ego…? (Why should I always…?)  I can’t help feeling that the scholia could usefully be translated.

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From my diary

Lots of emails yesterday and today.

Firstly and most importantly, the PDF containing Eusebius has come back.  This should be the last, final version.  I will check it over at the weekend — otherwise the translator will lynch me — but that means the book is done.  The next stage will be creating a cover, sending it off to Lightning Source, and stuff like that.  I expect to get some free time in 2 weeks, so it may work out quite nicely.  Many thanks indeed to Bob the typesetter!

An email reached me from the translator of Michael the Syrian, asking what a “sar” or “saros” might be.  These terms occur in the Babylonian history of Berossus, as a measure of time.  Berossus is lost, but the Chronicle of Eusebius quotes it, and so these curious terms drift down the centuries.  I offered my best suggestion, and a selection of materials that I gathered on the subject.  Eusebius reckons that a “sar” is 3,600 years, but I suspect it was 18 years.

Another email arrived from a translator, and we may do the Ad Gaurum of Porphyry, on the creation of the soul.  I need to look again at the text and work out a price, and reply (probably tomorrow).

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UV light to reveal colours of ancient statuary?

An interesting article here via Dyspepsia Generation:

Original Greek statues were brightly painted, but after thousands of years, those paints have worn away. Find out how shining a light on the statues can be all that’s required to see them as they were thousands of years ago.

Something about this reporting — reproduced widely on non-scholarly sites — makes me nervous.  It’s not very coherent, and no sources are quoted, no researchers given.  The source for the images is supposed to be a certain Venzenz Brinkmann, and there is yet another non-scholarly item — a PDF — here.

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Problems with Eusebius

Three weeks ago I sent a dozen corrections — the last! — to the Latin and the Coptic to Bob, who is typsetting the book.  I’ve heard nothing since, although I’ve sent a reminder.  I greatly fear that they went into the spam folder.

Bob, if you’re reading this, could you confirm you received the two emails?

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From my diary

Odds and ends today.

I was thinking again about Severian of Gabala, and the glowing prose that he wrote.  I must do something about getting more of his stuff into English.  There’s a bunch of homilies in Armenian, which might be attacked; and intermingled with them, some by Eusebius of Emesa.  The one sermon of the latter that I encountered was really good!  It was translated by Solomon Caesar Malan, an oriental prodigy who appears as a character in Tugwell’s Remniscences of Oxford.

Someone has kindly sent me an article about the sermon by John Chrysostom, Quod nemo laeditur (CPG 4400, PG 52 459-480, SC 103), written from exile.  The article also gives “BHG 488d” as a reference — I wonder what that is! *  The article discusses a fragment of a Coptic version.  The letters of Chrysostom don’t exist in English, as far as I know, aside from selections.  They’re probably too lengthy for me.  They would be a good choice for some monastic translator, tho.

Into town, and at the library I ordered Festugiere’s La Reveletion d’Hermes Trismegiste, vol. 3.  The appendix 2 to this contains a French translation of Porphyry Ad Gaurum.  Let’s see if it can be run into English.

The new John Maddox Roberts “SPCK XIII” novel has arrived — or rather, I was able to collect it from the Royal Mail depot this morning.  This afternoon I shall consume it!  I don’t have nearly enough escapist literature available to me, sadly.

* Apparently BHG is Bibliotheca Hagiographica Graeca, and there is a BHL for the Bibliotheca Hagiographica Latina Antiqua et Mediae Aetatis.  If it includes letters of Chrysostom, it must be an index to all sorts of works by all the saints.

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From my diary

I’m reading Juvenal again.  This time I keep noticing the portions which the translator omitted, of some length in some cases, such as in the Sixth Satire.  The grounds for the omission is obscenity, of course, but even so, it is a pity.  And I could use more of a commentary than the old Loeb edition gives me.

I was also reading an article on the life of Juvenal, which propounded the idea that the scholia on Juvenal, which are found in the Pithoeanus manuscript (=P) were compiled prior to 399 AD.  The scholia also contain an old biography of Juvenal, which I have not yet found in English.  The best edition of the scholia seems to date from 1931, which is an unfortunate age — too recent to be online, but too old to be accessible.  Hum.

The same article told me that Juvenal was the last writer of “Silver Age” Latin, and is not quoted by any writer thereafter for a century and a half.    It would be interesting to see what sort of testimonia there are for the classics, wouldn’t it?

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Does Royal Mail have a death-wish? Apparently not.

Home, to find a red card on the mat.  Even since the advent of Amazon, these have been regular sights when I came home at night, and I thought non-UK readers might be interested to see these common yet ephemeral items.

OK, they tried to deliver at 10:05 am.  Naturally I was at work then, like everyone else.  But I knew they would, and I expected to go and pick it up from the depot. 

Unfortunately the card tells me — this bit is new — that I can only do so between 9am and 2pm.  That more or less makes it impossible, because, like everyone else, I am at work then.

This is yet another degradation of service from the Royal Mail.   The sorting office used to be open into the evenings, so you could pick up undelivered mail, such as Amazon deliveries.    Then they decided not to open after 2pm — the posties naturally want to go home early –, but they did open from 7am.    This made sense — the posties are supposed to be up early, so why not?   But no longer.   I’ve also heard rumours that Royal Mail wants to charge people to collect the mail from the sorting office.  

If you wanted to stop people shopping online, what else would you do?  But why would a postal service want to do that?   So no more home deliveries for me.  I’ll try sending stuff to work, but this can be hazardous at many workplaces.  And why did it take them four days to try to deliver it?

What Amazon need to do is start their own delivery business, I suspect.  How long will it take before they do?

UPDATE:   I went to collect my mail this morning and was told that the postman had simply used an old card!  Apparently I could have collected my mail yesterday morning at 7am if I had wanted to (and I did want to).  I was also told that Royal Mail, in fact, is extending hours, not curtailing them.  That is good news!

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From my diary

We all know the Amazon.com book ordering process — you register an account, choose the book, hit the button, enter the delivery address, hit the button, choose a credit card, hit the button, display the order, and hit go.

I’d always thought of that as pretty streamlined, until today when I ordered a copy of the Loeb edition of Aulus Gellius’ Attic Nights from Book Depository.  They didn’t make me create an account, or do most of that.  I clicked to add the book to the basket.  I clicked to check out, entered my address and card details on one spartan screen, pressed one click and it was all done.

Very nice!

I’ve decided that I must read the Attic Nights.  Bill Thayer at Lacus Curtius has the Latin and part of the English online, which I was looking at this lunchtime.  But I can’t read this sort of book on-screen, useful as it is. 

In book 1, I read the first story, about how the Greeks calculated the shoe-size of Hercules, as measured from the length of the race-track at Olympia. 

Another anecdote related how Demosthenes secretly approached the whore Lais, who demanded an enormous sum.  Demosthenes replied that he would not purchase shame for 10,000 drachmas.

A quotation from Metellus Numidicus on marriage followed:

If we could get on without a wife, Romans, we would all avoid that annoyance; but since nature has ordained that we can neither live very comfortably with them nor at all without them, we must take thought for our lasting well-being rather than for the pleasure of the moment.

It seems like it might be a good book to read on the sofa in front of the TV on these wintry nights.

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