Rosenbloom, 'Greek Historiography', Bryn Mawr Classical Review 9512
URL = http://hegel.lib.ncsu.edu/stacks/serials/bmcr/bmcr-9512-rosenbloom-greek
@@@@95.12.11, Hornblower, ed., Greek Historiography
Simon Hornblower (ed.), Greek Historiography. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1994. Pp. 286. $55.00. ISBN 0-19-814931-X.
Reviewed by David Rosenbloom
-- Victoria University of Wellington
David.Rosenbloom@vuw.ac.nz
Greek Historiography contains eight papers originally
delivered at Simon Hornblower's seminar on Greek Historiography
at Oxford in 1991. H contributes an "Introduction" (1-72),
followed by Peter Derow, "Historical Explanation: Polybius and
his Predecessors" (73-90), John Gould, "Herodotus and Religion"
(91-106), Ernst Badian, "Herodotus on Alexander I of Macedon: A
Study in Some Subtle Silences" (107-130), Simon Hornblower,
"Narratology and Narrative Techniques in Thucydides" (131-166),
P.M. Fraser, "The World of Theophrastus" (167-191), John Davies,
"The Tradition about the First Sacred War" (193-212), Kenneth
Sacks, "Diodorus and his Sources: Conformity and Creativity"
(213-232), and Antony Spawforth, "Symbol of Unity? The Persian
Wars Tradition in the Roman Empire" (233-247). The volume has
an excellent bibliography and index.
R.G. Collingwood considered historiography a form of question
and answer; this volume asks many of the right questions and
adopts methods well-formulated to answer the questions it asks.
All the essays do the work of historiography: they seek to define
the genre, to test models of inference and interpretation, to
devise codes for interpreting material remains, oral traditions,
and texts upon which a knowledge of Greek history depends. In
crucial elements of genre--mythos, speech-act, audience--Greek
Historiography invites criticism and revision. But this does
not invalidate the volume: its essays are rigorous and informed,
and there is much to learn from them. In what follows, I examine
the assumptions and arguments of Hornblower, Derow, Badian, and
Davies and conclude with briefer descriptions and comments on the
remaining contributions.
Many of the essays in this collection apply various approaches
(narratology, analysis of oral tradition, rhetorical criticism,
and source criticism) to historical texts to preserve the
capacity of those texts to yield history to their interpreters.
This involves differentiating historiography from fiction
(Hornblower, "Narratology"), inferring historical events from
unhistorical narratives (Badian, Davies), or inferring sources
from texts where no source is given (Hornblower, "Introduction";
Fraser). The essays that deal with reception (Gould, Sacks) and
that make claims about a historiographer's distribution of praise
and blame (Badian) preserve the integrity of the historiographer.
The volume continuously explores the trade-off between
rhetoric and reality in historical writing. The essays do not
demonstrate how the rhetorical norms of the genre undermine
claims to historical knowledge.[[1]] Rather, they adopt
strategies to repair the damage narrative can inflict on reality.
Sometimes they show that a writer's rhetoric intentionally
disfigures the truth. This strategy, which assumes that true
narratives are available to the historiographer and that rhetoric
is a means of distorting them, generates the most contestable
arguments in the volume. Badian suggests that Alexander I of
Macedon brokered the Athenian submission to Persia in 507 and for
this act won the title of euergetes. Herodotos knows this;
but he deliberately fails to report it: his euphemia, a
desire not to offend the powerful, and his consciousness of the
story of his Histories, the Athenian liberation and
salvation of Hellas, cause him to suppress the particulars of
Athenian-Macedonian medism c.511-479. Hornblower argues that
anachrony (narrating something out of sequence) reflects
Thucydides' intention to put "events in the wrong file or box"
("Narratology," 139) to conceal their significance, and is
symptomatic of his Athenian bias.
Historiographers can use rhetorical figures without knowing
the truth they efface. Hornblower's assumption that Thucydides
knows Athens is vicious and uses "narrative tricks"
("Narratology," 148) to obscure it requires a knowledge of
Thucydidean intention H does not demonstrate in the course of his
essay. Badian makes a similar assumption in his paper on
Herodotos' Alexander I: that a true historical narrative
circulates and kings such as Alexander I distort it into legend,
or historiographers encode or suppress it. I find this a dubious
model for Hellenic historiography.
Derow locates historiography's distortion of probable truth in
schemes of explanation by psychological motivation. Because this
scheme is absent from Thucydides' explanation of the origins of
Athenian hegemony (1.95) and its transformation into empire
(1.99), his text offers a truer representation than Herodotos'.
D's argument depends upon his acceptance of topoi whose
historical truth he leaves unquestioned: the hybris of
Pausanias and the Ionian choice of douleia over
eleutheria (cf. Hdt. 6.11-12; code words:
talaiporia, eleutheria, ponos). It is also
possible the Ionians had little military power to forfeit to
Athens by paying tribute. Certainly, as D points out,
explanatory forms contain their own sources of distortion; but
Thucydides' "Explanation...by analysis of circumstances and
without imputation of motive..." (84) is influenced by factors
external to his explanatory model.[[2]]
One of these factors is the mythos (in Aristotle's sense) of
Thucydides' narrative. Although he devotes pp. 7-54 of his
"Introduction" to what he calls the "Story of Greek
Historiography" (the succession of Greek historiographers from
Homer to Cassius Dio loosely linked by assorted insights and
comments), Hornblower limits his discussion to the theme of the
great war as something shared among Homer, Herodotos and
Thucydides. He notes that historiography itself has a story only
when he discusses Polybios and the rise of Rome (45; cf. 10 for
Hellanikos and Aeneas). But one can isolate and define
historiography's mythos under a variety of descriptions: great
wars that spell the rise and fall of hegemonies, acts of
enslavement and liberation, a process of hybris,
ate, and dike. Hayden White has made this point:
history as a species of narrative requires a structuring mythos,
a systasis pragmaton with moral implications.[[3]] This
seems to me a crucial point, needed for any contemporary concept
of historiography. The structuring elements of Thucydides'
narrative (peripeteia, anagnorisis) and its mythos--how a great
liberator, Athens, becomes a tyrant, and is vanquished--exert a
powerful force for distortion. Thucydides' mythos requires an
idealized origin of Athenian power.
Badian measures the distorting effect of Herodotos' mythos
upon his presentation of Athens and Alexander I. The events
Herodotos' emplotment suppresses, however, are B's conjectures
(Alexander's mediation of a deal between Persia and Macedon
c.511, Alexander's mediation of Athens' submission to Artaphrenes
and hence the reason why he was euergetes at Athens).
But Herodotos' mythos is compatible with Athenian "slavery" and
medism. Herodotos' liberators undergo a period of "slavery"
prior to their acts and ascension to positions of hegemony;
Athens is no different. Alexander is unique because he occupies
multiple positions in the dialectic of slavery and freedom
simultaneously: he is a slave to the Great King, a liberator of
Macedon from Persian tyranny, a Hellenic king and tyrant of
non-Hellenes. His is a voice for Athenian submission to Persia
and a voice for Hellenic freedom. A marginal figure on the
margins of Hellas, Alexander embodies a coincidentia
oppositorum that could unite Hellenes around their
ideology of freedom: Alexander is a free Hellene and a medizer.
Davies' valuable paper on method in modern and ancient
historiography, using the tradition of the First Sacred War as a
case study, explores the difficulties of distinguishing mythos as
"story" and as "myth." D abstracts a diachronic pattern from
modern analyses of the First Sacred War--formulation of a
complete, probable narrative, its analysis and tightening, the
widening of its evidence to include poetry and visual art, and
finally, debunking as "myth."[[4]] At the same time, he sketches
a conceptual and methodological framework for the evaluation of
documents suspected as forgeries, a group he prefers to examine
as a unit. He locates the conditions for the production of such
documents in Athens during the denouement and aftermath of the
Peloponnesian War: the development of written archives, the use
of documents in forensic speeches, the need to restore Athenian
heroic self-definition, and the effects of Herodotus' and
Thucydides' use of documents in narrative (contra Habicht, who
sees the 350's as the period of forgery).[[5]]
D examines a series of events prior to 343 that might affect
the tradition of the Sacred War, and a series of events and
representations which the war might explain, concluding that the
war is a "plausible hypothesis, but no more" (201-6). His
analysis offers a cogent hypothesis about the genesis of an
Athenian narrative of the war (close to his period of
"forgeries"). I am not certain how plausible a hypothesis the
war is: the items the war might explain are explicable on other
grounds; none of them requires an event anything like the war
depicted in the tradition; part of the problem with the
historicity of war is that it explains other events and does not
exist independently of a clearly defined rhetorical aim; writers
of the fourth century and [Thessalos] imply that the war is
"mythical." D is right to remind us that there are versions of
the narrative prior to Philip's presidency at the Pythian games
in 346 (Robertson is unclear on the issue but denies the
narrative's existence prior to its inscription, while recognizing
it also had a life as an oral, "pilgrim's tale" explaining the
ruins at Ayios Georghios). And D helpfully sketches
circumstances influencing the tradition prior to inscribed
narratives of it. His essay raises a question about the
relationship between representations and events: to what extent,
if at all, must an event be similar to its representations in
visual art or orally transmitted narratives to be considered the
referent of them?
D does not explain why narratives of the First Sacred War do
not appear in historiography prior to Kallisthenes and
Antipater.[[6]] I suspect an answer involves the peculiarly
Athenian horizons that shaped historiography. The Athenian
Tatenkatalog defined the conquest of hybris as an Athenian
act: the Athenians alone conquer hybris in its
multifarious forms. The First Sacred War, a tale about the
Panhellenic conquest of hybris, did not follow this
scheme. Eventually, the two traditions became compatible: Solon
convinces the Amphiktyony that the hybris of the Krisans
must be punished (Plut. Sol. 11; cf. Aisch. 3.108), giving
an Athenian voice to the principle that hybris must be
defeated. Likewise, the myth of Delphic succession current among
Athenian writers tended to eclipse Delphic secular history.[[7]]
There may be another reason for the belated appearance of the
tale in Athens: it holds a mirror to the city. Athens sacked
Hellenic cities, suffered vicious plague, and like hybristic
Krisa, had the Hellenes breathing the hot breath of siege at its
walls.
Although the contributors do not use the concept of
speech-act, they make claims about what historiography does.[[8]]
Derow sketches how the genre develops into a form of explanation
in Polybios' hands, but its formative characteristics involve
narrative rather than narration: Hekataios' verisimilitude, a
notion of historical process akin to Anaximander's (DK12 A9) and
Herakleitos' (DK22 B80; B53) legal and institutional metaphors,
the tendency to represent the motives of human action as passion
for power and its protection and for tisis. Hornblower
locates the genre's roots in epic, genealogy, and praise;[[9]]
Badian treats the genre as a form of praise and blame. On his
reading, Herodotos' praise of Alexander I and Athens represses
and entails blame for them. In the case of the First Sacred
War, mention of the logos' role in speech-acts might be
helpful: the narrative functions in a genre akin to the
"instruction of princes."[[10]] Aischines reports (2.114-16) his
use of the tale to instruct Philip in what it means to control
Hellenic sanctuaries: the logos defines who deserves sacred
protection as an Amphiktyon and who does not, and gives the
origin of the oath and curse that membership entails.
[Thessalos] in the Hippocratic Presbeutikos uses the logos
as the first of four accounts of his family's euergesia
to Hellas and to Athens to persuade the Athenians not to enslave
his native Kos. Distinct, perhaps, are its uses in
Delphic-Pythian contexts: to justify privileges at Delphi, to
explain the origins of the oracle, of the Pythian games, and the
various changes that took place in them; the tale also explains
why the plain of Krisa-Kirrha is uncultivable.
The way we conceive historiography as a speech-act affects our
notion of the genre's implied audience. Hornblower's perception
of historiography's "germ" in genealogy and praise lead him to
use Plato's description of the generic preferences of a Spartan
audience (genealogy of gods and men; ancient foundations of
cities; archaiologia in general, Hipp. Mai.
285d6-e2) as a model for historiography's audience
("Introduction," 9). This captures a segment of historiography's
narrative audience, but does not tell the whole story. The
implied audience of Herodotos, Thucydides, and perhaps even
Xenophon is a Panhellenic ideal constructed around an Athenian
center. It is possible that if the Spartans were the narrative
audience for historiography, the genre as we know it might not
have developed.
We need some sense of what differentiates historiography from
other narrative forms. In "Narratology," Hornblower tries to
distinguish historiography from fiction by its narrative
techniques: anachrony, iterative presentation (repeated narration
of something with slight differences), focalization (narration
from a point of view), denomination (naming), and presentation by
negation (a negative statement denying the audience's knowledge
or expectation). H does not precisely define the genre from
which he wants to differentiate historiography: at some points it
is fiction, at others poetry, at others the novel. Mythical
narratives present a special problem because they contain the
"irreducible fact" H uses to differentiate historiography from
fiction (e.g. 166). Can we assess the meaning of Thucydides'
techniques without examining the dialogic principle of his mixed
form? The speeches and the narrative confirm and undermine one
another in various ways. One wonders to what extent H can make
his conclusions about Thucydides' narrative convincing in the
absence of this analysis. By focusing on "little-noticed"
techniques of a single historiographer, H wants to discover
differentiae between historiography and fictive genres. But the
techniques he discusses do not perform the functions he assigns
them.
H claims Thucydides "generally used" anachrony and iterative
presentation to diminish the importance of facts (139-48, 166).
These techniques make Athens appear less aggressive, minimize its
breaches of the Thirty Years Peace, and mute events that suggest
that war was less inevitable than Thucydides argues it was.[[11]]
My count of anachronies differs: the majority underscore,
explain, exemplify, or comment on events.[[12]] My reading
confirms neither the general use of the technique to mislead the
reader nor the impact of the examples H discusses. For instance,
H considers the effect of 1.50.5 (the Athenians voted to send
twenty more ships to help the Kerkyraians but Thucydides does not
tell us until the ships arrive), a muffling of Athenian
aggressiveness and an attempt to prevent the conclusion that
Athens did not observe the Thirty Years Peace as carefully as
Thucydides claims it did. But the original ten Athenian ships
have openly engaged the Korinthians before the twenty reserves
arrive (1.49.7). Thucydides delays mention of the second
squadron not to deflect legalistic blame--Athenian honor
transcends this--but to explain why the Korinthians suddenly
backed-water during their attack. This is the first naval battle
Thucydides narrates. He stresses the backwardness of the
tactics. The narrative sows the seeds of peripeteia:
Korinthians initially withdraw from attack at the mere sight of
the Athenians, but fighting land battles at sea, they eventually
defeat the Athenians. The problematic assumption is that
Thucydides deviates from chronicle. Historiography is
aetiological narrative. It must use anachrony. Focalization and
explanation are logically prior but chronologically posterior to
the events of the narrative. Most historical anachrony is
explanatory in nature; some of it marks the historiographer's
voice (an important differentia, I would think). Very little of
it plays hide-and-go-seek with reality.
We can get some idea of H's case by examining his other
differentiae. According to H, presentation by negation can flag
a controversy in historical writing, but in poetry it cannot.
Aware of the work done on poetic polemics, H uses as his
counter-example the fact that Aeschylus does not say, "Agamemnon
was king, not as you all thought, of Mycenae, but of Argos."
(166). The more important differentia is that Aeschylus does not
"say" anything. We hear the dramatist's voice only by inference;
it does not alternate and compete with that of his characters in
the same way as a historiographer's. In any case, the controversy
does not so much concern Mycenae-Argos; this is a problem already
for the Iliad, where Agamemnon rules all Argos but leads
Mycenae. It involves Stesichoros' Oresteia and the
Spartan appropriation of Agamemnon, his family, and his
entitlement to rule "many islands and all Argos" (Il.
2.108). Since not all controversies take the form of
presentation by negation, to show that one controversy does not
take this form is not to exclude them all. I think one could
cite presentations by negation in the Oresteia that imply
a "not as you all thought" (in these instances as knowers of
Homer): MA/NTIN OU)/TINA YE/GWN, Ag. 186; FRO/NHMA TOU=
QANO/NTOS OU) DAM/ZEI PURO\S MALERA| GNA/QOS, Ch. 324-5).
According to H, presentation by negation may also telescope an
assembly meeting, discussion, and vote. But cases of this in
Thucydides are conjectural. H's basis for the belief that
denomination may indicate a written source in Thucydides but not
in poetry is H. D. Westlake's argument that the
Pausanias-Themistokles narrative was copied from an Ionian
histor.[[13]] Thucydides uncharacteristically calls the
Lakedaimonians "Spartiates" in this narrative, one of the
circumstantial pieces of evidence Westlake used to posit a
source. But this is only a possibility. And who is to say
Aeschylus did not derive his titles for Agamemnon from a written
source? Lastly, H leaves open the possibility that focalization
may not indicate "just artistry," but may also be a sign of a
historian's informant. There is no certain case of this. No one
will doubt that historiography has a generically unique rhetoric;
I am, however, skeptical of the differentiae H chooses.
In his "Introduction," Hornblower offers a treatment of the
historical conditions that gave rise to historiography, focusing
on Hellenic cultural predisposition: Homer's war poetry, laced
with genealogy, in which an "interest in the past is
all-pervasive" (9).[[14]] Colonization figures as a major motive
force in H's search for the origins of historiography (11:
"starting pistol"), but it seems more appropriate to the
formation of the epic tradition. Events, institutions, and
attitudes closer to the time of historiography are perhaps more
important explanatory factors: the development of trade in the
Aegean basin, the erosion of aristocratic entitlements, the rise
and fall of Eastern empires and "enslavement" of Greeks, the
growth of Delphi, Athenian democracy and empire, the rise of
tragedy and fall of epic, hegemonic conflict among Persia, Athens
and Sparta. No doubt there are more; but to concentrate on Homer
and cultural dispositions as the germ of historiography is to
ignore the evanescence of cultural dispositions and the
contingency of Homer in the process: it is possible that without,
say, victory in Persian Wars and the ascendancy of the Attic
theater, historiography might not have developed at all. When H
does treat the proximate determinants of historiography, he
reduces the question to a dilemma between the "great event"
hypothesis and Jacoby's insistence on the importance of Periklean
Athens (15-6). Historical explanation is not this simple.
John Gould and Kenneth Sacks examine the reception of texts,
the former explaining why readers have been disappointed with
Herodotos' treatment of religion and alien religion in
particular, the latter arguing that Diodoros was a
historiographer and not a mere compiler. Gould criticizes the
Linforth-Lateiner understanding of Herodotos' religious silence
(i.e. Herodotos lacks evidence for proof and disproof and so
tries to avoid discussion of religious matters) as a form of
special pleading, reasserting Herodotos' euphemia and his
implication of the divine in the causal scheme of human action
(91-98). G therefore locates one source of disappointment in
positivist expectations that Herodotos cannot fulfill. Then, if
I understand him correctly, he tries to explain disappointment
with Herodotos' depiction of alien religion by his lack of an
ideology for those religions similar to the one Homer and Hesiod
bestowed upon the Hellenes.
Reprising his study of Diodoros' Bibliotheke, Sacks
explores the dividing line between compiler and historiographer,
arguing that Diodoros has his own hegemonic emplotment
(achievement of hegemony, period of rule with epieikeia,
period of rule with bia followed by subversion), his own,
not entirely positive interpretation of Rome's rise to power, and
may preserve a lost section of Polybios better than Livy does.
As Hornblower remarks in his "Introduction," Diodoros was no
Thucydides (50); but his hegemonic model follows Thucydides'. I
am sympathetic to Sacks' case. He identifies characteristics
crucial for historiography: hegemonic emplotment, postures of
praise, blame, and warning toward hegemonic powers and their
rivals, and accurate representation of sources. I was less
convinced by his claims about Diodoros' "creativity" and
"originality" (215, 216) because it remains unclear how they were
appropriate to his activity or to the culture of his time.
P.M. Fraser examines the sparse textual guides (FASI/ and
indirect discourse) of Theophrastos' Historia Plantarum
4-5 to derive the author's sources for eastern flora, ultimately
linking his knowledge to the autopsy of bematists, explorers, and
perhaps some others. F casts doubt upon more glorified versions
of Alexander's knowledge-gathering corps and its use of archives,
not only as a source for Theophrastos, but as a part of
Alexander's invasions. Finally he contrasts this tradition with
knowledge about the west, which is tinged with myth and legend,
suggesting a source in Aristotle--members of his school retail
some of this material.
Antony Spawforth interprets non-textual evidence--the
placement of an honorific inscription for Nero on the eastern
architrave of the Parthenon, the life of Tiberius Claudius
Novius, an exemplary Greek "civic notable"--and also reads the
narrative and material evidence of how the Romans appropriated
and commemorated the Hellenic victory over Persia as a model for
their Parthian campaigns. A case-study in co-optation, the paper
shows how the Roman appropriation resonated in Hellenic culture
and played on the deeply rooted Hellenic fears of barbarian
invasion, but also secured benefits for the Hellenic elite. S
reads Hellenic flattery of the emperor as a kind of
self-congratulation; and it might be that Rome's adoption of
Hellas' victory over Persia consigned contemporary Hellenic
impulses for freedom to demagogues. I was curious to see whether
the Roman appropriation of Persian war imagery affected
historiography (e.g. Lukian's How to Write History
responds to the historiography of the Parthian campaigns and
seems to call for another Xenophon).
An eminent philologist and semiotician once remarked to me
that historiography was a "degraded discourse." Greek
Historiography demonstrates the richness and the difficulty
of Hellenic historiography. The volume looks forward, as
Hornblower describes it, to the problem "of implied or explicit
interrelation, what modern literary critics call intertextuality,
between the Greek historians and writers in other genres like
epic, tragedy, and oratory" ("Introduction," 54). If neither he
nor the contributors actually practice "intertextual" reading,
they certainly point us in the right direction.[[15]]
NOTES
[[1]] Cf. A.J. Woodman, Rhetoric in Classical
Historiography (London and Sydney 1988) esp. Ch 1.
[[2]] See, e.g., J.A.S Evans, "The Medism of Pausanias: Two
Versions," Antichthon 22 (1988) 1-11; Herodotus:
Explorer of the Past (Princeton 1991) 80-88; N. Robertson,
"The True Nature of the Delian League, 478-461 BC" AJAH 5
(1980) 64-96; E. Badian, From Plataea to Potidaea
(Baltimore and London 1993) 130-32, passim.
[[3]] "The Value of Narrativity in the Representation of
Reality," in W.J.T. Mitchell, ed. On Narrative (Chicago
and London 1981) 1-24; also 233-54 for discussion. White,
"Fictions of Factual Representation," Tropics of Discourse
(Baltimore and London 1978) 127, makes a slightly different but
equally important point about the formulation of events in
narrative; cf. C.E. Schorske, "History and the Study of Culture,"
NLH 21.2 (1990) 408, for historiography's dependence upon
the cultural resources of narrative.
[[4]] N. Robertson's argument: "The Myth of the First Sacred
War," CQ 28 (1978) 38-73.
[[5]] C. Habicht, "Falsche Urkunden zur Geschichte Athens im
Zeitalter der Perserkriege," Hermes 89 (1961) 1-35.
[[6]] Cf. Hornblower's explanation: Herodotos did not mention
the war because he "was not a systematic writer and did not offer
a linear account of the archaic age." Because Herodotos
neglected it, so did Thucydides, who had no use for it in
demonstrating that the Peloponnesian War was the biggest of all
time ("Introduction," 59). We have no evidence the narrative was
ever used this way.
[[7]] For the sources, see C. Sourvinou-Inwood, "Myth as
History: The Previous Owners of the Delphic Oracle," in Jan
Bremmer ed. Interpretations of Greek Mythology (London
1987) 235 n.2.
[[8]] For genre as institutionalized speech-act, see T. Todorov,
"The Origin of Genres," NLH 8 (1977) 159-69.
[[9]] H (11) rejects O. Murray, "Herodotus and Oral History," in
H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg and A. Kuhrt ed. Achaemenid
History, ii: The Greek Sources (Leiden 1987) 98, who
points out the poverty of genealogy in Hellenic culture. H
ignores C. Fornara, The Nature of History in Ancient Greece
and Rome (Berkeley 1983) 12.
[[10]] For this genre of discourse, see R.P. Martin, "Hesiod,
Odysseus, and the Instruction of Princes," TAPA 114 (1984)
29-48.
[[11]] H classes 1.40.5; 2.68; 3.2.1; 4.102 as "malign
anachronies" (143, n.37). These are also explicable in
narratological terms, as H for the most part acknowledges. For
repeated or delayed facts: 2.56 and 6.31; 6.72, 88 and 7.42;
3.1.2. H allows a narrative explanation for the former pairs
(delay for relevance, increasing precision).
[[12]] H admits that Thuc. 2.65.12; 5.26.1; 6.15.4 "gain" from
their displacement. He calls 4.81.2 an "interesting forward
reference to the Sicilian invasion," and also refers to 2.31.2
(139, n.26). H ignores, e.g., 1.10, 20.2-3, 126-138; 2.15-16,
65.7-10; 3.81-3, 93; cf. 5.51; 4.80; 6.53-59, 7.24, presumably
because they are not "little noticed." Because H does not analyze
the narrative in speeches, he does not mention the anachronies
they contain as part of Thucydides' rhetoric: 1.73-75; 2.71;
3.10-12; 6.76, 6.82 etc.
[[13]] "Thucydides on Pausanias and Themistocles--A Written
Source," in Studies in Thucydides and Greek History
(Bristol, 1989) 1-18. See e.g., C. Patterson, "'Here the Lion
Smiled': A Note on Thucydides 1.127-38," in R.M. Rosen and J.
Farrell edd. Nomodeiktes: Greek Studies in Honor of Martin
Ostwald (Ann Arbor 1993) 145-52, for another view.
[[14]] But see Bruno Snell, "Homer und die Entstehung des
geschichtlichen Bewusstseins bei den Griechen," in Varia
Variorum. Festgabe fuer Karl Reinhardt (Muenster/Koln
1952) 2-12 where the important point is the discontinuity between
past and present in Homer. Homeric epic is anti-historical
compared with other genres and later epic.
[[15]] H accepts the premises on which "influence" rests, but
not "intertextuality," though technically the latter does include
the former. See Peter J. Rabinowitz, "Audience's Experience of
Literary Borrowing," in S. Suleiman ed. The Reader in the Text
(Princeton 1980) 242. Intertextuality implies indeterminate
ambiguity, non-identity of interpretation and authorial
intention, the play of language, narrative as a construct that
exists independently of reality, etc. For the difference between
"influence" and "intertextuality," see H.R. Elam s.v.
"Intertextuality," The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry
and Poetics (Princeton 1993). H posits the existence of
authorial intention (29), and limits intertextual relations to
intentional borrowings, silent corrections, etc. (esp. 54-72).