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J.R. Morgan: Longus: Daphnis and Chloe.

J.R. MORGAN: Longus: Daphnis and Chloe

Pp. 253. Oxford: Aris and Phillips, 2004. Paperback, -16.50

ISBN 0856685631

Daphnis & Chloe (hereafter D&C) has had--and continues to have--a remarkably powerful life, exerting an enormous influence on artists, authors, and musicians alike. Yet it has occasionally received a raw deal at the hands of translators bound by the constricting sexual mores of their times: poor Daphnis has sometimes found himself cut off at Lykainion's pass, the two of them frustrated by translation into Latin, which always spoils the erotic mood--for me at least. Perhaps the most guilty of brutalising Longus' text was Lowe, whose 1908 translation removed all didactic sense from it, excising not only Lykainion, but also the sexually and socially significant attempts of Daphnis and Chloe to make love on a caprine model. In the last fifteen years or so, a concerted effort has been made to rectify the prudishness of previous translations: in 1989, Penguin Classics published a revised edition of Turner's 1956 translation; in the same year, Gill's version appeared in Reardon's Collected Ancient Greek Novels; and in 2002, Oxford World's Classics produced McCail's prose-verse fusion, an attempt to bottle the essence of Longus' bucolic mood, and the inspiration of his pastoral and poetic mentors, Philetas and Theokritos. There also exist Schonberger's German translation, with introduction and commentary, an Italian translation by Di Virgilio, and the French Bude edition. Morgan's (hereafter 'M.') offering is not the only one to combine text, English translation and commentary. Lowe's work contained textual notes, though when one takes into account his butchery of the text, these can hardly be considered either apparatus criticus or authoritative commentary. Contemporaneous with M., however, is a volume co-authored by Cueva and Byrne, although I have not yet set eyes on this. For students of Greek seeking an English translation, Edmonds' revised version of Thornley's translation, published in 1989 by Loeb Classical Library, has remained the most accessible and user-friendly text, with its format of Greek and facing translation. This is no longer the case. M. offers a translation to rival its predecessors, together with facing text and extensive notes, which immediately give it the edge over the Loeb. Add to this Bowie's forthcoming commentary, and anglophone Longophiles will be in seventh heaven, or indeed their own pastoral idyll. Now, it seems, Longus is de rigueur.

In discussing M.'s bibliography first, it will seem to the traditionalist that I am beginning at the end. However, Aris and Phillips Classical Texts relocate the bibliography from its usual site at the end of a work to a more prominent position, sandwiched between preface and introduction. In a sense, the inclusion of the bibliography at the start of a work is preferable to a tail-end positioning, as it gives the reader an immediate feel of both the quantity and the quality of the research invested in the making of the work. M.'s bibliography is extensive (6.5 pages), and indicative of a breadth of scholarship that can only augur well for the finished product: the coexistence of Perkins' The Suffering Self and Boas' The Happy Beast suggests that we are in for a bittersweet treat. The items on the bibliography are many and varied, and should appeal to the non-specialist, as well as to the classicist and philologist.

While in a work of such straightforward structure there is little need for a detailed contents page, M.'s thorough introduction would seem to warrant a full breakdown there, which it does not receive. The introduction is ideal both for newcomers to Longus and the genre as a whole, and for prior initiates. M. begins with an accessible summary of the evidence for the author and dating of D&C, settling on the second half of the second century. He notes the similarities Longus' work bears to Achilles Tatius', including the opening 'ekphrasis', although I am a little uncertain as to why he sees in Achilles "a reaction against the romantic convention of love-at-first-sight" (2). But that is a petty niggle. M. moves on to give a simple yet informative sketch of the extant corpus, making the point most pertinent for novel virgins, namely that what has come down to us is not representative of what originally existed. However, there follows a perhaps overly confident evaluation of the novels' place amongst other ancient literature: "The novel never entered the mainstream of classical literature. The few references by ancient critics are uniformly negative, suggesting a lingering mistrust of fiction (easily confused with lies), and some unease with the erotic or sentimental subject matter" (3). I am not so sure that these remarks can be reconciled with the advisedly cautious view that the five extant complete novels do not constitute a representative sample of the genre: if we cannot assume a representative sample in that case, can we safely assume that a smattering of negative scholarly aspersions represents the broader ancient view? I suspect that M. means that these texts did not enjoy the popularity of the epic or tragic poets, and were not fodder for the ancient school curriculum, and that papyrus finds imply a restricted readership, but these points might be made in a more clear and circumspect manner for those new to the subject matter. Again, though, a minor quibble. M. gives the neophyte a nice summary of Longus' plot motors, together with illustrations of the ways in which he toys with and subverts generic tropes. M. rightly stresses Longus' debt to Theokritos, and is also keen to detect the influence of the poet, Philetas. A section on myth and religion in the novel concludes the first half of the introduction, and features a pithy deconstruction and critique of Merkelbach's reading of D&C, paving the way for a statement of M.'s own serio-religious interpretation of the novel. M. recognises that his reading of D&C is "unfashionably serious" (Preface): while the trend has been to think that Longus is merely playing literary games, M. finds in the text a sincere discourse on the true nature of love.

The second half of the introduction, 'Themes and structures', offers a lucid schema of the novel's central motifs, helping to render explicit what is often implicit in the text. The organisation and clarity of this section are such that even those already intimate with Longus will benefit. M. constructs a series of binary oppositions ('childhood and adulthood', 'nature and art', 'country and city', etc.) that reflect the complex discourses of Longus' ostensibly simplistic text. Towards the end of the introduction we enter the more slippery world of 'truth and fiction' and 'author and narrator', in which M. engages with the self-referentiality of Longus' work, its status as a mythos, and the complexity and heavy irony which cling to the novel's narrative voices. In 'author and narrator' in particular, M. reveals an ability to plumb the depths of aspects of narratology in a succinct and vivacious style. His brief foray into what Longus' "destabilisation ... of narrative authority" (19) can tell us about his relation to Hellenistic literature is especially enlightening, as is the manner in which he expounds the varying possibilities for reading the text: as one in which we take the narrator at face-value, or one in which we hunt for the author deriving humour at the narrator's expense. In short, the meticulous introduction prepares the reader for the diversity of Longus' text, encouraging him to remain alive to the potential for a variety of readings.

M. translates Reeve's Teubner text, and as hard as I have tried, I have not spotted any textual errors. He inserts gaps into text and translation in order to signpost the all-important changing of the seasons, and to lead the reader to the commentary's individual discussions of the seasons' activities, thus facilitating reference between translation and commentary. The selective apparatus criticus is somewhat temperamental, its Greek font alternating between two styles, one of which is a little taxing on the eye. I think, however, that the fault here lies with publisher, rather than with author. The translation is wholly impressive, often managing to carry the Greek sentence structure into English. While this can on occasion feel clumsy or stuttering ("On Lesbos, while hunting, in a grove of the Nymphs, I saw the most beautiful sight I have ever seen, a depiction of an image, a history of love" (23)), (1) it serves to convey to the non-linguist the apparent simplicity of Longus' Greek. M.'s fidelity to the text is admirable, and of paramount importance in the translation of a work that is so concerned with the discourses of nature and art, truth and fiction.

The achievement of an appropriate tone in the translation of Book One is vital. The first book establishes many of the principles upon which the rest of the work hinges, including the relationship between the cycle of the seasons and the erotic development of Daphnis and Chloe, and the initial mention of love's two aspects, which M. translates succinctly (and consistently throughout) as "the name and the deeds of love" (35). M.'s translation of the cowherd's, Dorkon, feelings for Chloe is a notable improvement on previous renderings. The text makes clear that his emotion is not exactly love, (2) but it has often been translated as such. M. opts for the more apt phrase 'amorously inclined', and while this does not quite get across Dorkon's less than honourable intentions, it does negate the impression given by previous translations of a Dorkon who feels a more innocent emotion than the text actually suggests. He does not 'fall in love' with Chloe, as other translations would have it, but feels a strong sexual urge towards her, the sense of which is then reinforced by [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] (translated by M. as "get his way" (35)), foreshadowing the force to which Dorkon ultimately resorts. Although the text does later refer to Dorkon as feeling eros for Chloe (when he is dying at 1.29, for example, and we find that he is a goody after all), a careful translation of his initial feelings is necessary in order to convey their overtly sexual

nature. M. further demonstrates his dexterity with the minutiae of the text in his translation of an awkward passage at 1.30.6. Here, Longus' narrator gives us an excursus on the aptitude of cows for swimming, defending his argument by reference to the frequency of the maritime place name, 'Bosporos'. (3) The Greek here is not tricky, and the linguist knows that 'Bosporos' may be understood as 'Cow-Crossing'; the difficulty consists in offering a translation intelligible to the English-speaking reader without Greek. Earlier translations have tended to use 'Bosporos', together with an additional explanatory clause or footnote. Here again, M. succeeds by conveying the Greek in the simplest possible form, so that he is not obliged to import verbiage in order to clarify his translation. He gives, "Evidence to this effect is provided by the existence to this day of a large number of places by the sea named "Oxford"" (49). The use of "Oxford" renders the text into English accurately, and is easily comprehensible to the reader without Greek.

A negative point in M.'s translation of Book One is his interpretation of a line of Chloe's soliloquy, spoken in response to the erotic feelings awoken in her by the bathing Daphnis: "I wish I could be his pipe so he could blow into me; I wish I could be a goat so I could have him as my shepherd" (33). (4) In the commentary, M. rightly makes much of the double entendre inherent in the syrinx clause, and notes that Chloe's desire to be one of Daphnis' goats must also contain an inadvertent sexual euphemism. However, the goat clause is more accurately conveyed by Lindsay, in his 1948 translation: "O, if only I were ... a goat, that I might graze under him". While M. is consistent in his translation of the central "name and deeds of love" phrase, he is not so with this phrase, variations of which appear twice more in the novel, and in increasingly knowing sexual senses, as M. himself highlights in the commentary. At 2.2.2, the local men express the wish [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.], translated by M. as "to be turned into sheep and come under her pastoral care" (53); and at 4.16.3, the homosexual parasite, Gnathon, states that he would gladly become one of Daphnis' female goats if it meant [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] [scil. [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.]] [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.], which becomes for M. "have him see to me" (125). (5) I cannot help but think that the inconsistency in translating these lines detracts from their euphemistic sense. Chloe's unwitting double entendre in wishing to "graze under" Daphnis is emphasised in retrospect by the fact that each time the phrase recurs, it is uttered by figures who progress up a scale of sexual knowledge; to translate these three clauses differently dislocates them from one another in a manner I do not think Longus would have intended.

The central element of the second book is Philetas' exposition on Eros before Daphnis and Chloe. Philetas' Greek differs from that of other speakers in the novel in its poetic structure, which includes rhyme and parallelisms. (6) Although the language here is not difficult to understand, a faithful translation that reproduces its rhetorical features is hard to achieve, but M. does not disappoint. He may alter the sentence structure to incorporate direct questions in order to convey the rhythm of the Greek ("Has any of your trees been broken down? Has any fruit been picked? Has the root of any flower been trampled? Has any of the springs been muddied?" (55)), but this never detracts from either the sense or the tone of the original. Equally successful are his efforts to reproduce the Greek's alliterations, such as those at 2.31.2, during the celebrations following the rescue of Chloe from the Methymnaians. M. translates [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] as "pastoral poems from the past" (76), thus losing nothing of the original's playfulness, in contrast to Gill, who offers "the compositions of shepherds of old". M.'s rendition of the story of Pan and Syrinx, as told by Lamon, is also impressive in its proximity to the original. The Greek is somewhat stilted, reflecting the rustic nature of its speaker, who makes no effort to elaborate or prettify a simple tale. The translation mimics this simplicity faithfully, avoiding the temptation to add conjunctions where there are none in the Greek. So, [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.].(2.34.2) becomes "Tiring running, she hid in some reeds, disappeared into a marsh" (79). While this might sound a little disjointed, it accurately renders the naivete of the Greek, which in turn characterises its speaker. (7) Turning to Gill's translation, and others, we find the persistent addition of 'and', which may make the English a more aesthetically pleasing read, but also gives Lamon's speech more sophistication than it possesses in the Greek.

Possibly misjudged is M.'s translation of a clause earlier in Book Two, when Daphnis and Chloe are practising Philetas' suggestions, and accidentally find their way into a horizontal position. From [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] (2.11.2), M. comes up with the unusual translation, "and by hanging on her lips he lay down with her" (61). He perhaps hopes to counter the ambiguity of the English word, 'following', which might be interpreted as indicating temporal succession, rather than carrying a verbal sense, but a straightforward translation such as "by following her kiss he lay down with her" would surely be intelligible enough from its context; this much is clear from Gill's translation, "and he, following her kiss, slipped down with her". (8) While M.'s translation certainly stands out here from previous ones, it also conjures up for me a wincing mental image of Daphnis dangling from Chloe's face, inadvertently importing an almost slapstick humour, and somewhat cheapening the scene.

Book Three contains many scenes which are both enchanting to read and pivotal in terms of the sexual and social advancement of Daphnis and Chloe. In his translation of Daphnis' bird-catching and his imagined dialogue with Chloe's family, and also of the advent of the second spring and the reunion of Daphnis and Chloe, M. does Longus' Greek full justice. Especially appropriate is his incorporation of pastoral vocabulary into his translation of Daphnis' sexual response to Chloe's touch at 3.13.4: [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] .is translated as "and became ruttish in response to the embraces" (93), a rendition which nicely communicates the goatherd's sexual excitement, as well as assimilating it to that of the billy-goats described a few lines earlier, and paving the way for Daphnis' goat-sex mimesis; however, while the goats may get their oats, poor Daphnis is again left wanting. Of all English translations, M.'s version of this passage is the most faithful and successful, admirably conveying the potential for humour inherent in Daphnis' desperation, as well as the aggressive and even animal sexual drive inscribed by the rare verb [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.]; the choice of "ruttish" apparently echoes this rarity, at least according to Microsoft Word's spellchecker, which does not acknowledge its existence, and would have 'ratfish' instead. As in the case of Philetas in Book Two, the central didactic scene of Book Three, the Lykainion episode, is also deftly handled, with no additions or subtractions. In her Greek, as in her lovemaking, Lykainion makes "no unusual exertions" (97), and M.'s translation reflects her straight-to-the-point approach; he thankfully resists the temptation, succumbed to by McCail, to elaborate on the Greek, and make the scene appear more sophisticated than it is, and Lykainion more eloquent or circumlocutory than she is.

M.'s success in Book Three lies especially in the fine details that make up the whole. As well as his catchy rendering of [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.], he also succinctly conveys Dryas' cunning play for time over the betrothal of Chloe with "and temporised" (103) for [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] (3.25.3). Another highlight is his translation of the elder Nymph's speech to Daphnis as he dreams at 3.27, and particularly her instruction to approach the rotting dolphin and collect the purse of money, which M. translates as "But you must go near: go near and pick it up: pick it up and give it away" (105). (9) As well as echoing the Greek's klimax structure, M.'s version renders far more economically and effectively than Gill's ("But you go up to it, and once you're there, pick it up, and once you've picked it up, use it as a present") the similarity these words bear to a magical spell. Note, in fact, that the Nymph has already spoken of the gifts she will give Daphnis, with which he will "bewitch Dryas" (105); Daphnis is experiencing a magico-religious vision, and M. does well to lose none of the magic in translation.

At the introduction of Lampis at 4.7.1, a note from the apparatus criticus corresponding to 4.8.4 has somehow become incorporated into the Greek text, although this intrusion, like the alternation of the fonts in the apparatus criticus, is unlikely to be the fault of the author. The translation of Book Four is gratifying, and particularly so those passages involving Gnathon. Worthy of commendation in Gnathon's beseeching of Astylos is the apposite "chefs de cuisine" (125), which M. employs to get across the high-falutin' sense of the somewhat unusual [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] at 4.16.2, and which does the job far better than the choice of most other translators, "chefs". M. then improves on previous renderings of [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] (4.16.4) with the fablously tongue-in-cheek "Gnathikins" (125). The difficulties posed by the text following Gnathon's rescue of Chloe from Lampis are also well-handled. (10) All other translations opt for an easy reading, assuming the import to be to keep the intended marriage of Daphnis and Chloe secret, and to hide Chloe away for the time being. I concur with M. in his conclusion that the Greek text itself does not wholly support such a reading (243). The more appropriate translation is the one M. offers: "In talking things over, they thought it best for Daphnis to keep the marriage secret and secretly make Chloe his lover, confessing his love to no one but his mother" (135); the secret sexual initiation of Chloe would justify the negative reaction of her father, Dryas.

A little disappointing, perhaps, is the note on which M.'s translation of the novel ends: on their wedding night, Daphnis and Chloe discover "that what had happened on the edge of the wood had been shepherds' games" (143). "[S]hepherds' games" translates [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] (4.40.3), and it seems a pity to lose the alliteration at the very climax of the novel, especially in a translation that has shown itself so conscious of Longus' literary play. M. is not in the minority, however, as no other translations retain the alliteration, although this final phrase might have presented an opportunity for M.'s translation to stand out still further from the crowd.

In discussion of M.'s commentary, I shall first make some general observations, and then select a few specific points for further consideration. The commentary is organised in such a way as to give the novice a clear view of the structure of the novel itself, including the ways in which individual episodes in the story relate to one another, and how they function as a whole. Just as Longus uses a framework of changing seasons within which to locate his action, so M. uses the seasons as major section headings; under these he separates out the primary occurrences of the novel, giving each one a title ('Resumed love', 'Conclusion of hostilities', etc.), and discussing significant phrases and passages under these banners. M.'s division of the commentary in this way ensures that the relationship between the development Daphnis and Chloe's love and the cycle of the seasons is underscored.

The commentary offers a wealth of geographical, religious, mythological, and philological detail, with a strong emphasis on intertextuality and narrative focalisation. M.'s writing never gives the impression of being a mere series of notes or unrelated observations; instead, many of his points may be taken together to support his overall line that Longus' novel is essentially a serious statement on the nature of love; in this regard, his discussions of the Philetas (177-184) and Lykainion (208-213) episodes are particularly convincing. M.'s inclusion of clusters of bibliographical references at points where he discusses important incidents or structural aspects ('The Narrator's Prologue', 'The swallow and the cicada', 'The first myth', etc.) is especially helpful for the reader. These inset bibliographies leave the reader with a clear list of secondary material, while M.'s references to the Hellenistic and pastoral legacy inherited by Longus (157, 159, etc.) facilitate the location of comparative primary material. There is perhaps too great a tendency in the commentary to reach for Philetas of Kos in the attribution of unusual episodes or phrases for which provenance is otherwise unknown (149, 151, 154, 172, 185, 187, 211, 229), although M. does signal in the introduction his "maximalist line" (5) on the subject, and is clearly aware that his contentions place him out on a limb somewhat; he is not entirely alone here, however, as others have also argued that Philetas was more influential on Longus than is directly provable. (11)

While I more often than not find myself agreeing with M.'s interpretations of the sense and symbolism of the text, there are occasions where he seems to push things too far. One such is his comment on 1.5.1, regarding the animals Longus chooses to suckle his protagonists: "the choice of animals already confirms conventional gender stereotypes: a randy, smelly undisciplined goat for the male, a placidly maternal and obedient sheep for the female" (154). Longus may indeed intend some hint concerning differing male and female sexuality or gender roles, but there is no difference whatsoever between the behaviours of the goat and sheep that nurture the children: both are equally caring and attentive, and this should perhaps be made explicit, and thus some qualification given to the statement M. makes on gender differentiation. Still on the subject of gender, M. seems to over-interpret the text of 2.31.3, where a goat-skin is nailed to a pine opposite Pan's statue: "the dedication of the skin emphasises male physical attributes (horns), and even involves a sort of penetration of the pine ([TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.]) (194). M.'s awareness of the need for explanations in parentheses implies an awareness of the weakness of his contention, and his euphemistic reading of the verb seems to me excessive. His commentary on 2.35.1, where Tityros arrives with Philetas' "mighty instrument" (79), also oversteps the mark a little: M. notes that this presents "a phallic contrast to [Daphnis'] puny tubes" (197), although I suspect that the innuendo is only there for the reader in translation (LSJ give no euphemistic sense to [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.], and it is used at other points in D&C with no sexual connotations: 2.34.1, 2.34.3, 3.21.4, 3.23.4). However, the more generalised analogue M. draws here with manliness is certainly correct.

Now and again, thorough cross-referencing is lacking: M. refers to crickets often being kept as pets (158), but does not mention Chloe's soliloquy at 1.14, where she laments that the lullaby chirruping of her pet cricket is wasted, as she is sleepless with thoughts of Daphnis. A similar instance is found at 162, where M. discusses the significance of the gadfly reference, but does not equate this with Philetas' account at 2.7.4 of an amorous bull, who "bellowed as if he had been stung by a gadfly" (57), although he does include a retrospective note in his commentary on the Philetas passage (183). In his discussion of the erotic significance of [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] at 3.13.2, a cross-reference with the leaping of the men in the wine-vats upon sight of Chloe (2.2.2) might be apposite. At 168, a nice discussion of Dorkon's assumption of the guise of a wolf constitutes part of an ongoing examination of the significance of the wolf-motif, which also features at 159-60 (the she-wolf) and 208-10 (Lykainion); M. offers literary parallels for the wearing of a wolfskin, but perhaps we can also see in the Dorkon episode some ironic reference to Herakles in his lion-skin.

To sum up, M.'s translation is a great success, remaining, for the most part, faithful to the text, and producing a seamless fusion of pastoral naivete and rhetorical flourishes, mirroring Longus' Greek. For non-linguist students of the Greek novel, Gill's translation in Reardon's edited volume will remain the most practical purchase, and those seeking full textual apparatus will still turn to the Teubner volume, but M. must surely now supersede the Loeb publication for those requiring comment on the Greek text, and a sense of Longus' place in literary history. Both introduction and commentary are characterised by wit and sensitivity, with touching comparisons drawn with perennial favourite of children and adults alike, Winnie the Pooh (12-3), and amusing asides on the magnitude of Chloe's tainia (160), the durable hooves of water-bound Welsh cows (174), and M.'s scientific experiments with Lesbian wine (230). The commentary is a difficult medium to master, and one in which it is all too easy to bore the reader. M. never bores; on occasion he may push at the limits of credibility, but his content is varied enough, and his style witty and fluid enough, to hold and stimulate his audience. While the reproduction of the text appears error-free, there are several typos peppering translation and commentary (and even the back cover), which ought to have been picked up prior to printing. (12) However, these can be forgiven in view of the style and content of the volume: M. writes with a flair, humour, and depth of scholarship to be admired, and plays alliterative games (228, 244) of which Longus would be proud.





(5) The innuendo of [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.] is picked up at 4.19.1, where Daphnis is to learn "the ways of the town" (127) [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII.]. M. perhaps takes unwarranted liberties with his translation of Gnathon's wish to become a goat, yet, on consultation of other translations, M.'s comes off much the better, managing to convey the innuendo of the wish more successfully, though perhaps not as faithfully as he might have done: Lindsay, who so aptly translated Chloe's similar wish, gives "be fed out of his hand", and Thornley much the same; Turner opts for "being grazed by him"; Gill offers "led to pasture by him"; and McCail "be herded by him".

(6) See 2.5.5, 2.7.5, etc.

(7) Although M. himself states in the commentary that "there is nothing uneducated about the rustics' speech" (219).

(8) No other English translations have seen a difficulty in using 'following'.



(11) See M.'s own survey of those arguing for dependence on Philetas (ANRW 2.34.3, 2249-2250).

(12) Examples at 129, 139, 146, 147, 172, 231 (where a neat chiasmus of M.'s own does not compensate for a missing word), 234 (where Philetas apparently "peaches" a kind of love that results in marriage and procreation: a nice pastoral allusion, albeit accidental).

Reviewed by Meriel Jones, Swansea
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Author:Jones, Meriel
Publication:Ancient Narrative
Article Type:Book review
Date:Jan 1, 2005
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