In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Attis at Large CATULLUS (Translated by Anna Jackson) And so Attis, seasick, heart sore, having left so terribly fast, with a pause, a leap, a landing, galliambically arrived in the shady regions, wood-clothed, in the goddessy depths of dark in a rage, a grief, a wild mood, having come so terribly far, and himself, still him, he tore off, with a flint, all his manly parts— so that (...) she (now she) when she saw she was all a a a a girl, even while still bleeding fresh blood, a new stain on that shagpile earth, in a flash, a leap, with no pause, she took up here a tambourine— tambourine of yours, your symbol, sign of Cybele’s syllables— with a clash, a strike, a ringing, her soft fingers on the stretched skin, she began to sing this whole song, in a tremble to, to the throng: All of us, not cis, but sisters—with a leap of nothing but faith let’s take off, let’s rush, let’s stampede, like a herd on the, the, the loose— you are lost, you’re all in exile, with a past you have left behind you have only me, your one hope, here to lead, if you’ll follow me, after all that we have been through, salty seas of masculinity we will sail no more, no, not we—let us now be all spiritual, that’s to say, let’s sing, and sing loud, with a clash of the tambourine and with tossing heads and wild leaps, we must throw ourselves into this, as if in to fire, with no fear—a religious sort of a pounce! And in need of no persuading, the stampede, if it was that, starts— all of them, not cis, but sisters, taking off with a lightness of heart like a sisterhood, a herd loosed, with a clash of the tambourine. And so Attis, no true woman, was swept along with the rest, in the lead, but led, herself led, the clash of the tambourine a resounding beat in her head, fa-la-LA, la la la la LA, like a heifer still unbroken, a disorder of flailing flight. And the sisterhood, a herd loose, kept the beat of the tambourine. And the sisters, having found peace, could all sleep when the ringing ceased, having come so far, so hard won, they were restless no more but at peace, after all that they had been through, having come so terribly far. arion 27.2 fall 2019 Yes but when the sun with eyes bright looked out at the whole airy sky, and the whole expanse of hard earth, and the whole wilderness of sea, yes and when the sunlight drove forth all the shadows of the long night, and when sleep itself was sent off, or took flight, as Attis awoke, well then sleep, not Attis, found rest; it was sleep that would rest at last. Not so Attis: sleep departed, and his madness departed too; not so Attis, who reviewed all he had done, and all in his heart, and could see the lie it had been, and see all that the lie had cost, and with surging mind and heart sore made return to shallowing shore. And there Attis, seasick, heart sore, with sore eyes salty as the sea now addressed her country, grief struck, with this song, or more of a speech: Oh my country, nation, homeland, oh my country where I was born! Like a truant out of bounds—bounds like a palace, a place of peace— in a rage, a grief, a wild mood, did I take myself off to here, here to live in lairs of wild beasts, here to live in shivering snow, to inhabit my own madness, my insanity the worst lair of them all. Oh where can I now understand my country to be? My sore eyes both long to be fixed in a gaze shiverless on you, for a pause, a space, to come clear, and to clear what’s left of my mind. Do I have to leave, to have left, my own home, and live in the wild? Do I have to... (shrink)

If Catullus' poems as we have them faithfully reproduce their order in the original roll or rolls, and if that order reflects a design of the poet's, then the last piece in our manuscripts naturally merits close attention. But even one who has vigorously upheld these hypotheses writes: ‘it is tempting to suppose that the poem is a spurious addition, attached after the publication of the collection; Catullus may indeed have written it, but not wanted to include so (...) illepidus a piece of versification in his published works’. Nor has the poem attracted much interest in its own right; it seems to be generally considered just another slice of biography, and as such hardly susceptible of a poetic meaning. The remarks which follow try to show that it has one, and perhaps also a significant position. (shrink)

Catullus 68 has for generations been the site of hard-fought and inconclusive philological battles. This, it may be confidently predicted, will continue to be the case. The present contribution, therefore, can pretend to no more elaborate aim than the opening up of certain new fronts. It falls into two parts of unequal length: first some general observations on the contents of the poem — or poems, for the Einheitsfrage cannot be evaded — and the underlying theme thereof; second a (...) detailed examination of the source and significance of perhaps the most remarkable passage in an altogether remarkable piece of work, to wit the barathrum simile . The argument of I has, the reader will observe, a not inconsiderable bearing on that of IIB, though it is in no way dependent on the latter's acceptability. The argument of IIA, to the contrary, has no necessary link with those of I and IIB and may profitably be judged by itself. (shrink)

Catullus has been looking everywhere for his friend Camerius. In Pompey's arcade he has accosted all the girls who were hanging about there, but they have calmly disavowed knowledge of his friend's whereabouts. At line 9 Catullus breaks into flagitatio, the beginning of which is desperately corrupt: attempts to emend avelte have been made, but it seems more realistic to assume that avelte is the result of some corruption of quas vultu at the beginning of line 8, and (...) that it has ousted the original beginning of line 9. In terms of a flagitatio—the girls are pessimae inasmuch as they are allegedly withholding what is Catullus' own, his friend, from him—the sort of word one expects is redde or cedo. Hence reddatis here, merely exempli gratia, would be one conceivable way of introducing the demand. (shrink)

If Catullus' poems as we have them faithfully reproduce their order in the original roll or rolls, and if that order reflects a design of the poet's, then the last piece in our manuscripts naturally merits close attention. But even one who has vigorously upheld these hypotheses writes: ‘it is tempting to suppose that the poem is a spurious addition, attached after the publication of the collection; Catullus may indeed have written it, but not wanted to include so (...) illepidus a piece of versification in his published works’ . Nor has the poem attracted much interest in its own right; it seems to be generally considered just another slice of biography, and as such hardly susceptible of a poetic meaning. The remarks which follow try to show that it has one, and perhaps also a significant position. (shrink)

Modern editors of Catullus all agree on the text of line 53. The manuscripts also agree on the line, the only difference being R transmittingmutantibus, while O and G transmitnutantibus. Nevertheless, a few scholars have in the past questioned the reading ofnutantibus. As the lines quoted above illustrate, Catullus generally translates Callimachus’ poem closely. But neither of the words suggested in the manuscripts seems wholly to describe the rapid and vigorous movement of Callimachus’ κυκλώσας βαλιὰ πτερά, ‘having whirled (...) its swift wings’. The reading ofnutantibusis somewhat supported by Apuleius’pinnarum nutantium. But there too the nodding, swaying and wavering sense ofnutaredoes not seem to illustrate the hurried and rapid action of Jupiter's eagle. Additionally, the wording of the passage is sufficiently disputed to make it possible thatnutantiumis not the correct reading. (shrink)

Two of the most moving personal poems of Catullus, 8 and 76, present the reader with difficulties of interpretation which highlight the inadequacy of a very widely-held view of the nature of Catullus' personal poetry. In this view the poet is regarded as handling his own actual experience directly, so that the poems present reality, perhaps not entirely, but certainly to a degree that is not the case with the elegiac poets or with the Horace of the Odes. (...) Extreme forms of this view may be seen in the old idea that Catullus threw off the Lesbia poems as the odi or the amo of the moment constrained him, and in the more recent view that the poems can usefully be seen as either attempts to contain an overpowering wave of emotion or to state, and so get to grips with, a baffling personal problem. The first of these extreme forms has been long discredited, but the second still exerts a persuasive pressure, to judge by recent discussion of Catullus. (shrink)

n this note I wish to reopen discussion of the role of Cornelius Nepos in Catullus' dedicatory poem. The Callimachean features of Catullus' assessment of his own work have been well documented. However I believe that, since this is a poem where Catullus evaluates not only his own work, but also that of Nepos, a closer examination of the latter is called for.

Catullus has been looking everywhere for his friend Camerius. In Pompey's arcade he has accosted all the girls who were hanging about there, but they have calmly disavowed knowledge of his friend's whereabouts. At line 9 Catullus breaks into flagitatio, the beginning of which is desperately corrupt: attempts to emend avelte have been made, but it seems more realistic to assume that avelte is the result of some corruption of quas vultu at the beginning of line 8, and (...) that it has ousted the original beginning of line 9. In terms of a flagitatio—the girls are pessimae inasmuch as they are allegedly withholding what is Catullus' own, his friend, from him—the sort of word one expects is redde or cedo. Hence reddatis here, merely exempli gratia, would be one conceivable way of introducing the demand. (shrink)

This article defends Baehrens’ reading cenam for caelum at Catullus 6.17 as more sensible than scholars have thought, based on allusions to Meleager, AP 5.175. It then proposes a new emendation to the line that is suggested by this Greek source.

This article discusses textually problematic passages in Catullus 63, a particularly corrupt poem from a particularly corrupt manuscript tradition. It proposes new conjectures and revives several old ones. Throughout there are notes on punctuation, conjecture attribution and an analysis of the structure of Attis’ lament.

Two of the most moving personal poems of Catullus, 8 and 76, present the reader with difficulties of interpretation which highlight the inadequacy of a very widely-held view of the nature of Catullus' personal poetry. In this view the poet is regarded as handling his own actual experience directly, so that the poems present reality, perhaps not entirely, but certainly to a degree that is not the case with the elegiac poets or with the Horace of the Odes. (...) Extreme forms of this view may be seen in the old idea that Catullus threw off the Lesbia poems as the odi or the amo of the moment constrained him, and in the more recent view that the poems can usefully be seen as either attempts to contain an overpowering wave of emotion or to state, and so get to grips with, a baffling personal problem. The first of these extreme forms has been long discredited, but the second still exerts a persuasive pressure, to judge by recent discussion of Catullus. (shrink)

How many kisses will be enough for Catullus? That is the question that opens Poem 7. The answer: as many as are the grains of sand in the Libyan desert, asmany as are the stars in the nightime sky. Yet in this poem sand and stars do notfunction simply as quantitative symbols. Each is in fact described in a mannerthat subtly alludes to the mouth – the organ from which Lesbia's kisses couldcome.

Why does Catullus in his eleventh poem tell Furius and Aurelius to take an unpleasant message to his girl-friend? After all, in the eighth poem he imagines himself able to do the job alone: ‘uale puella’ . Has his courage just evaporated? Or is it that he wants to put his messengers, whom he perhaps does not like, in an awkward position ? Kroll is not sure why the poet chooses intermediaries. Some think they came in the first place (...) from the girl, who wanted reconciliation, and that this poem is Catullus' response. But the poet is usually able to make it plain, as in poems 7 and 85, that he is replying to a question ; here that standard device is missing, and should not be introduced. This note offers a new solution to the problem, and identifies the imagined situation in such a way that the eleventh poem can be seen to be in harmony with the poet's attitude to his idealised love-affair. (shrink)

As the majority of the editors read the text of Catullus 61.90–6, it contains a couple of emendations, among which the most significant is the addition of the lineprodeas nova nuptaafter v.90 in order to complete the strophe.

n this note I wish to reopen discussion of the role of Cornelius Nepos in Catullus' dedicatory poem. The Callimachean features of Catullus' assessment of his own work have been well documented. However I believe that, since this is a poem where Catullus evaluates not only his own work, but also that of Nepos, a closer examination of the latter is called for.

In reviewing Ellis' OCT of Catullus, Housman scorned the ‘diction and metre’ of Carm. 64.37, ‘Pharsaliam coeunt, Pharsalia tecta frequentant’. Yet several subsequent editors have agreed with Ellis and have also refrained from emending Pharsaliam. Even if there has not been enough discomfort with the MS reading to put some editors off retaining it, they might yet welcome a piece of positive evidence to support this decision. I will make the case that a passage in Statius' Achilleid may indicate (...) that the later poet was familiar with the line as the MSS have it. (shrink)

Excitement struggles with the restraint of form and language and the artifice of verbal repetition… runs riot.’ The repetition is more pronounced and personal here than in another Lesbia epigram, no. 70, where ‘the repetition dicit…dicit makes it certain that Catullus had [Callimachus, Ep. 25 Pf.] in mind’. Poem 70 illustrates how Catullus might allude to and adapt a Hellenistic model in expressing his personal feelings; while the longer elegiac poems in particular show the depth of his engagement (...) with Callimachean literary technique. We should not be surprised to find Callimachean elements here too, given the demonstrable correspondences with poem 68 in particular, a composition noted for its use of Alexandrian artifice. But while there are close echoes of the high emotion, the doctus poeta of 68 seems to be largely missing from 107. Here Catullus exults ipsa refers te / nobis ; there his mistress se nostrum contulit in gremium. (shrink)

sat es beatus (Catull. 23.27)In the aggressively philosophical poem 23, Catullus attempts to change Furius’ mind about how he perceives his poverty, ‘advice’ which has been identified as either Stoic or Epicurean. Irrespective of the precise school of thought, it is clear that the poet ridicules Furius in eudaimonistic language. The poet of social commentary seeks to define thebeatus uir. In fact, the termbeatushas rich philosophical resonance and Catullus uses it in several other poems where attitudes to wealth (...) form a significant backdrop to the poet's social posturing. Catullus was no philosopher. He employs the language and ideas of different schools, and, while his work does not reflect a coherent philosophical position, he was writing at a time when public discourse increasingly drew upon philosophical language and topoi. I will examine Catullus’ use of the termbeatusin poems 9, 10, 22 and 23 to demonstrate that the poet draws a contrast between its different meanings across these pairs of adjacent poems. I will argue that Catullus contrasts the eudaimonistic and material meanings of the word to show the differences between clear-sighted wisdom and deceptive pleasures, between the good life and a life filled with goods. (shrink)

Catullus' cunning dinner invitation to Fabullus continues to generate a rich variety of interpretations of its memorable central image, the promised gift of a certain unguentum Veneris . Three Latomus articles, by Littman, Hallett, and Case, have explored possible origins of and uses for that mysterious substance, suggesting, for example, that it might even contain female secretions with powerful aphrodisiac properties, or some other unmentionable sexual lubricant.

I have always found it a sore trial of my faith to regard suam ipsam as = suam dominant, and can only join ipsam with matrem. This leaves suam stand alone, as = suam dominam. That use is doubtless defensible of a wife or mistress in the case of a lover; but it is hardly possible of a sparrow, to whom the lady does not ‘belong’ in that relation. That one who is not lover or husband may know suos is (...) no proof that he may know suum or suam alone. (shrink)

Catullus' use of nutrices for the Nereids' breasts in line 18 of Poem 64 is not perhaps the most important problem in the poem, but it is not without interest and may have significance beyond its narrow context. This ‘weird preciosity’ has been integrated into a wider reading by Francis Cairns, who interestingly drew attention to Artemidorus 2.37–8 where to dream of Aphrodite emerging from the sea and naked as far as the ζώνη is a good omen for sea-travellers (...) because her breasts are τροΦιμώτατοι. So too, to dream of Nereids and Amphitrite is also a good omen. Cairns linked this passage to the persistent connections of Aphrodite and the Nereids with marriage, concluding that the Argonauts are presented with a very good omen as they set out and as the prospective bride and groom, Peleus and Thetis, meet. Cairns naturally finds support here for what we might call the ‘positive’ view of Catullus' heroic age, a view now apparently in the ascendant after the doubts created by John Bramble's well-known paper. Problems remain of course – Catullus 64 is not a dream – and the purpose of the present note is to keep debate alive by calling attention to a rather different set of considerations which complicate, rather than undermine, Cairns' reading. (shrink)

Catullus' use of nutrices for the Nereids' breasts in line 18 of Poem 64 is not perhaps the most important problem in the poem, but it is not without interest and may have significance beyond its narrow context. This ‘weird preciosity’ has been integrated into a wider reading by Francis Cairns, who interestingly drew attention to Artemidorus 2.37–8 where to dream of Aphrodite emerging from the sea and naked as far as the ζώνη is a good omen for sea-travellers (...) because her breasts are τροΦιμώτατοι. So too, to dream of Nereids and Amphitrite is also a good omen. Cairns linked this passage to the persistent connections of Aphrodite and the Nereids with marriage, concluding that the Argonauts are presented with a very good omen as they set out and as the prospective bride and groom, Peleus and Thetis, meet. Cairns naturally finds support here for what we might call the ‘positive’ view of Catullus' heroic age, a view now apparently in the ascendant after the doubts created by John Bramble's well-known paper. Problems remain of course – Catullus 64 is not a dream – and the purpose of the present note is to keep debate alive by calling attention to a rather different set of considerations which complicate, rather than undermine, Cairns' reading. (shrink)

For horribilesque we need something better than Haupt's horribile aequor ; and Mr. E. L. B. Meurig Davies comes near the truth, I think, with his proposal horribilem niue. A noun in the ablative indicating cold to define horribilem is just what we require. That noun does not seem to me, however, likely to be niue. Read rather horribilem gelu; cf. Luc. 2. 570 ‘ Rheni gelidis … fugit ab undis’, Claud. Rapt. 3. 321 ‘non Rheni glacies, non me Rhipaea (...) tenebunt’, Paneg. 7. 6 ‘duratus gelu Rhenus’. (shrink)

At Catullus 63.5, OGR read: deuoluit iletas acuto sibi pondere silices. The gist of this himself flints with sharp mass’) is improbable, and in particular the form iletas is a non-existent word and two syllables too long for the metre.

Catullus' cunning dinner invitation to Fabullus continues to generate a rich variety of interpretations of its memorable central image, the promised gift of a certain unguentum Veneris. Three Latomus articles, by Littman, Hallett, and Case, have explored possible origins of and uses for that mysterious substance, suggesting, for example, that it might even contain female secretions with powerful aphrodisiac properties, or some other unmentionable sexual lubricant.

The beginning of the seventy-sixth poem of Catullus appears to cause some modern readers considerable dismay. One may instance the reactions of R. O. A. M. Lyne: ‘Our first reaction to the beginning of this poem may be one of incredulity’ ; ‘The effect of such language is to imply an outrageous and implausible self-righteousness’ ; of K. Quinn: ‘a self-righteousness that makes us feel a little uncomfortable’ ; or of G. Williams: ‘this is sheer melodrama, a deft and (...) surprising reversal of “count your blessings”’; and, further down, on ‘si vitam puriter egi’: ‘This could be simply priggish or outrageous or both, but he does not mean it as a general statement’. (shrink)

The reader of Catullus' fiftieth poem can hardly fail to be struck by the poet's use of erotic language to his friend Calvus. Sleeplessness and lack of appetiteare symptoms of love, and the threat of Nemesis is commonly used againsta haughty beloved; miserum , incensus , and indomitus furore are words to describe a lover, and ocelle , as Kroll observes, is naturally addressed to a beloved. Even ut tecum loquerer simulque ut essem suggests a lover's yearning, if we (...) recall how Plato in erotic contexts stresses the desire to have company and conversation with the beloved . It is strange then that Kroll should comment onpreces in line 18 that their content is not clear. (shrink)