Anachronism and Antiquity: Configuring Temporalities in Ancient Literature and Scholarship

The Anachronism and Antiquity team is delighted to announce ‘Anachronism and Antiquity: Configuring Temporalities in Ancient Literature and Scholarship’, a conference to be held at Florida State University, Tallahassee, Florida, on March 23-24, 2018. Speakers and their titles are:

  • Carol Atack, St Hugh’s College, Oxford, ‘Plato’s Queer Time: Dialogic Moments in the Life and Death of Socrates’
  • Emily Greenwood, Yale University, ‘Reading Across Time: Thucydides’ History as Literature of Witness’
  • Constanze Güthenke, Corpus Christi College, Oxford, ‘“For Time is / nothing if not amenable” – Exemplarity, Time, Reception’
  • Brooke Holmes, Princeton University, ‘The Temporal Relation: Flow, Fold, Kairos
  • K. Scarlett Kingsley, Agnes Scott College, ‘Euripides’ Scholiasts: Blending Temporalities Heroic and Present’
  • Ellen O’Gorman, University of Bristol, ‘Reception and Recovery: Rancière’s Authentic Plebeian Voice’
  • Mark Payne, University of Chicago, ‘The Future in the Past: Hesiod and Speculative Fiction’
  • Tom Phillips, Merton College, Oxford, ‘Shelley’s Plastic Verse: the “Hymn to Mercury”’
  • Barnaby Taylor, Exeter College, Oxford, ‘Archaism and Anachronism in Lucretius’

The conference will run all day Friday and Saturday morning, ending with lunch on Saturday. There is no charge for registration but we ask that people register so that we can have an accurate account for meals. If you are interested in attending or have any questions, please email John Marincola at jmarinco@fsu.edu.

We’ll add more details about the conference programme to our Events page as they become available

Anachronism and Antiquity is a Leverhulme Trust-funded project, running from 2016 to 2019, is undertaking the first systematic study of the concept of anachronism in Greco-Roman antiquity and of the role played by the idea of anachronism in the formation of the concept of antiquity itself. The project, led by Professor Tim Rood and Professor John Marincola, with research associates Dr Tom Phillips and Dr Carol Atack, looks at both classical and modern material, pairing close analysis of surviving literary and material evidence from classical antiquity with detailed study of the post-classical term ‘anachronism’, and with modern theoretical writings that link the notion of anachronism with the conceptualization of antiquity.

The art of synchronism

Since antiquity artists have made use of themes, formats, and styles from the ancient world, and responded to specific surviving works of art. The ancient world, its stories and its art, offer many possibilities for creative re-use and re-imagination as well as generating synchronisms and anachronisms, when elements from different periods or their associated styles are worked together. Looking at the way in which artists combine elements from past and present, and considering what they choose to emphasise, in representing the ancient world or bringing objects and ideas from it into the modern, may be one way to tell the story of anachronism.

The ancient and the contemporary

Over the last few weeks we have had a visiting undergraduate research assistant, Mycroft Zimmerman from Duke University, North Carolina, working with us on anachronism and synchronism in the visual arts, and these are two of the images and objects that he has found particularly striking in their conjunction of ancient and more recent worlds, and in their creators’ handling of temporality.

The nine heroes

hector
‘Hector’, from the Nine Heroes tapestry in the Cloisters, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, 47.101.2d.

A group of tapestries from the southern Netherlands, and most likely made in the 1400s CE, now in the Cloisters, part of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, depicts a collection of figures often dubbed the ‘Nine Heroes’ or ‘Nine Worthies’. These consist of three groups of three celebrated figures from the pagan, Jewish and Christian eras or worlds. This grouping was a favourite of mediaeval and Renaissance artists, with surviving examples in sculpture, print and tapestry. The heroes cross the boundaries of history and myth (pagan antiquity includes Hector and Julius Caesar, the Christian era King Arthur and Charlemagne), and artists typically depicted all in contemporary dress and with contemporary symbols of power and authority.

Mycroft writes: ‘Hector is clothed exquisitely in a cape and armor as a sign of military affiliation, implying valour by way of his war-time accomplishments. Additionally, he wears a crown, signaling virtue as a result of nobility. The objects in Hector’s environment on the tapestry, are also distinctly Medieval. He wields a sword in the style of a knight and clutches a shield emblazoned with a lion coat of arms. Moreover, Hector’s surroundings are exclusively comprised of iconography from the Middle Ages: flying buttresses support the framework, vaulted arches loom over him and his compatriots. Perhaps the only characteristic of this Hector that unites him with depictions of him from antiquity is his long, manly beard.’

De Chirico’s Ariadne

ariadne
De Chirico, Ariadne, 1913, 1996.403.10, © 2017 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

Giorgio De Chirico (1888-1978) frequently used classical imagery in his work, often returning to the same objects, such as the statue of Sleeping Ariadne from the Vatican Collection. Here this statue is the focus of Ariadne, a painting from 1913 now in the Metropolitan Museum. The ancient statue is depicted with timeless elements, such as the arcade, shorn of architectural detail that would tie it to a specific period, but also more modern elements such as the steam train that crosses the background.

Mycroft writes: ‘If de Chirico had elected to include Ariadne as a living figure in the painting, he would lose the effect of contrasting ancient art and modern design directly. The statue stretches from the foreground to mid-ground of the work, and leads the viewer’s eyes up toward a steam engine, a tower, and a boat. The temporal incongruence of these objects is readily apparent. The gray tower, with its varied blend of period styles, becomes a tool to perpetuate metaphysical tension in the work rather than an effort to recreate any particular structure from any particular period.’

 

Sappho’s Memories

The use of exempla in ancient poetry, rhetoric, and historiography has often been thought to be anchored in the notion that historical processes take place in predictable patterns. Exemplary characters and stories can be repeatedly reused in different contexts because the circumstances to which they pertain do not alter significantly. Odysseus’ endurance on his voyage home or Andromache’s mourning for Hector will remain paradigmatic as long as people journey at sea and families are afflicted by war. Aristotle gives expression to this attitude when he says that ‘generally speaking, future events are similar to those of the past’ (ὅμοια γὰρ ὡς ἐπὶ τὸ πολὺ τὰ μέλλοντα τοῖς γεγονόσιν, Rhet. 1394a7–8). But the vagueness of Aristotle’s phrasing allows for the possibility that ‘future events’ may differ from what has happened previously, and a consciousness of this fact and its potential consequences is central to reflections on exemplarity in the fourth century and later. Cicero laments that men no longer seem able to follow the exempla bequeathed by the past because behaviour has changed (Pro Caelio 39–40), while Maximus of Tyre claims that Homer is exemplary in his discussions of erotic desire, but less so about military tactics or medicine, because men of later times knew better (Or. 18.8).

Sappho and Alcaeus vase
Alcaeus and Sappho, Attic red-figure kalathos, Brygos Painter, c. 470 BC. From Acragas. Staatliche Antikensammlungen, Munich, 2416; ARV2, 385, 228.

Yet even at the earliest stages of Greek literature, we find exempla being used in a way that suggests a sophisticated grasp of the differences that changing contexts make to how they can be understood. Particularly striking is Sappho fr. 16, which begins by positing a general truth about the nature of beauty, and proceeds to exemplify this with reference to Helen, who abandoned her home and husband because of her love for Paris:

ο]ἰ μὲν ἰππήων στρότον οἰ δὲ πέσδων
οἰ δὲ νάων φαῖσ’ ἐπ[ὶ] γᾶν μέλαι[ν]αν
ἔ]μμεναι κάλλιστον, ἔγω δὲ κῆν’ ὄτ-
τω τις ἔραται·

πά]γχυ δ’ εὔμαρες σύνετον πόησαι    
π]άντι τ[ο]ῦ̣τ’, ἀ γὰρ πόλυ περσκέ̣θ̣ο̣ι̣σ̣α
κ̣άλ̣λο̣ς̣ [ἀνθ]ρ̣ώπων Ἐλένα [τὸ]ν ἄνδρα
τ̣ὸν̣ [     ].στον

κ̣αλλ[ίποι]σ̣’ ἔβα ’ς Τροΐαν πλέοι̣[σα

Some say an army of horsemen, some an army of infantry or ships is the fairest thing on the black earth, but I say it is whatever one desires. It is certainly easy to make this comprehensible to everyone. For she who exceeded all mankind in beauty, Helen, left her … husband and sailed to Troy …

Helen’s love causes her to forget her past: she departs for Troy ‘not remembering at all’ her ‘child and dear parents’ (κωὐδ[ὲ πα]ῖδος οὐδὲ φίλων το[κ]ήων / π̣ά[μπαν] ἐμνάσθη). By contrast, the poem makes listeners recall how Helen is presented in the epic tradition (although it is unclear whether the Iliad and Odyssey in the form we possess them were known to Sappho and her early audiences). Such recollections will have constituted the background against which Sappho’s account emerges. By adding an emphasis on Helen’s interior life and perspective that is less strongly developed in epic, the poem invites us to revise the understanding of her that we have inherited from other accounts. In undertaking such revisions, we enact a process which, the poem implies, Sappho herself has already undergone by framing Helen’s story to fit her insight into the connection between desire and beauty. Even as it pictures Helen ‘forgetting’, the poem creates new memories.

Whereas desire makes Helen forget, it makes Sappho remember. The transition from the Helen story to Sappho’s own situation is fragmentary (12–14), but something about it (perhaps Helen herself, perhaps Aphrodite) ‘reminds’ Sappho of Anactoria, who ‘is not present’ (νῦν Ἀνακτορί[ας ὀ]ν̣έ̣μναι- / σ’ οὐ] παρεοίσας). These memories ground a fresh assertion of the claim for the supremacy of erotically-charged experience: ‘I would rather see her lovely walk and the glitter of her face than the Lydian chariots …’ (τᾶ]ς <κ>ε βολλοίμαν ἔρατόν τε βᾶμα / κἀμάρυχμα λάμπρον ἴδην προσώπω / ἢτὰ Λύδων ἄρματα …). With ‘the glitter of her face’, Sappho gives us a snapshot as evanescent as it is arresting. What is recalled is not the precise contours of a specific face, but a visual impression the motility of which carries over into recollection. Her ‘lovely walk’ similarly blends immediacy and fleetingness. The phrase flickers with Anactoria’s physical allure, but the particular qualities that made her beauty distinctively hers, as well as the wider context in which it occurs elude us (is she walking towards or away from Sappho? Is Sappho remembering a ‘walk’ that she sawoften, or just once?). As we try to imagine Anactoria and realise how little we have to go on, we replay Sappho’s longing for her past.

Alma-Tadema, Sappho Listening to Alcaeus
Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1836-1912), Sappho Listening to Alcaeus. Walters Art Museum, Baltimore 37.159.

These emphases on recollection affect how we might conceive the exemplum’s function across time. The poem changes our sense of how Helen’s actions might help us understand the world; similarly, Helen’s flight to Troy would have resonated differently for Sappho when Anactoria was ‘present’, and after her departure. The poem also suggests how an exemplum can be understood from multiple perspectives, moving from an implicit comparison between Sappho and Helen, to an implicit comparison between Sappho remembering Anactoria and Menelaus remembering Helen. Yet for all the suggestiveness of the parallels, Helen’s life is not Sappho’s, and the exemplum can only take Sappho so far in coming to terms with her situation. Her understanding of love’s importance does not mean that she can easily overcome Anactoria’s absence, although it is unclear how or even if this issue was developed(it is unclear whether the fragmentary stanzas that follow ‘the Lydian chariots’ belong to this poem).

Far from positing a minimally-changing field of applicability, the poem shows how an exemplary figure can be understood variously in changing circumstances. Rather than using an exemplum in order to model behaviour, as later writers often do, Sappho explores the limits of its applicability to individual experience. Taken together, the obliqueness of both the exemplum and our access to Sappho’s memories complicate what is involved in the supposedly easy task of ‘making comprehensible’ (σύνετον πόησαι) the poem’s general claim that the fairest thing is the object of one’s desires. Individuals’ experience of desire as a criterion for beauty is both changeable and difficult for others to access. In foregrounding the tension between the exemplum’s explanatory power and the variegations of experience and memory to which it is applied, the poem stages desire’s paradoxically evanescent force.