Lustrum Band 63 – 2021 [1 ed.] 9783666802379, 9783525802373

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lustrum lustrum

ternationale Forschungsberichte Internationale Forschungsberichte us dem Bereich des klassischen Altertums aus dem Bereich des klassischen Altertums

erausgegeben von von Herausgegeben arcus Deufert und Irmgard Männlein-Robert Marcus Deufert und Irmgard Männlein-Robert

ndband 61 2019 63  2021

LUSTRUM INTERNATIONALE FORSCHUNGSBERICHTE AUS DEM BEREICH DES KLASSISCHEN ALTERTUMS

unter redaktioneller Mitarbeit von Wolfgang Polleichtner

herausgegeben von MARCUS DEUFERT und IRMGARD MÄNNLEIN-ROBERT

Band 63 · 2021

Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht

Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek: Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliografie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über https://dnb.de abrufbar. © 2023, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Robert-Bosch-Breite 10, D-37079 Göttingen, ein Imprint der Brill-Gruppe (Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, Niederlande; Brill USA Inc., Boston MA, USA; Brill Asia Pte Ltd, Singapore; Brill Deutschland GmbH, Paderborn, Deutschland; Brill Österreich GmbH, Wien, Österreich) Koninklijke Brill NV umfasst die Imprints Brill, Brill Nijhoff, Brill Hotei, Brill Schöningh, Brill Fink, Brill mentis, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Böhlau, V&R unipress und Wageningen Academic. Alle Rechte vorbehalten. Das Werk und seine Teile sind urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung in anderen als den gesetzlich zugelassenen Fällen bedarf der vorherigen schriftlichen Einwilligung des Verlages. Satz: textformart, Daniela Weiland, Göttingen Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht Verlage | www.vandenhoeck-ruprecht-verlage.com ISBN 978-3-666-80237-9 ISSN 2197-3849

The Metamorphoses of Ovid: 35 Years of Research 1980–2014

Volume II

Luis Rivero García (coord.)

6



Note from the authors: The extent of the bibliography analysed in this work is vast. For this reason, the authors have been allowed to organise it in a different way to the normal standards observed in Lustrum. The references will be listed chronologically in each chapter, ordered independently. In this way, we hope to make it easier for the reader to consult the work. Huelva, May 2021.

The Metamorphoses of Ovid: 35 Years of Research 1980–20141 Contents and Authors

Volume 2 VI. Language, Style and Metre . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 1. Language and Style of the Metamorphoses: General Aspects (Pere Fàbregas Salis) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 2. Images (Pere Fàbregas Salis) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 3. Similes (Pere Fàbregas Salis) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 4. Rhetoric (Beatrice Larosa) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 5. Word Order (Pere Fàbregas Salis) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 6. Etymology (Beatrice Larosa) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 50 7. Greek Names (Ángela Suárez del Río) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 8. Linguistic and Stylistic Details (Pere Fàbregas Salis) . . . . . . . . . . 56 9. Metre (Pere Fàbregas Salis) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 VII. Sources and Models . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97 1. The Antique Tradition as a Whole (Ángela Suárez del Río) . . . . . . 97 2. Ancient Greek Authors (Luis Rivero García) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109 a. Epic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109 b. Tragedy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123 c. Comedy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127 d. Lyric . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128 e. Philosophy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128 f. Mythographers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132 g. Others . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132 3. Hellenistic Authors (Ángela Suárez del Río) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133 a. Poets . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133 b. Philosophers, historians, mythographers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 157 c. Art . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 162

1 This volume has been produced with the help of the Research Projects FFI2013–42529 and PGC2018–098024-B-I00, financed by the Spanish Government and “FEDER una manera de hacer Europa” funds, and of the Centro de Investigación en Patrimonio Histórico, Cultural y Natural at the Universidad de Huelva (Spain). The contributors want to express their gratitude to Prof. Pedro P. Fuentes and the team of L’Année Philologique for their help at the initial stage of our work, and to Fiona Flores Watson for her translation of the English version. Titles marked with an asterisk (*) throughout the volume could not be read directly by the authors.

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Contents and Authors

4. Latin Authors (Juan A. Estévez Sola) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 162 a. Republican period . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 162 b. Virgil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 174 c. Other Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204 d. ‘Ovid and Ovid’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212 VIII. Reception and Pervivence in Antiquity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227 1. Iconography (Luis Rivero García) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227 2. Latin literature (Luis Rivero García) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232 a. General . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232 b. Carmina Latina Epigraphica . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235 c. 1st and 2nd Centuries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236 d. Late Antiquity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 270 3. Greek Literature (Luis Rivero García) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283 IX. Appendix: Pervivence in Music and Plastic Arts (Ángela Suárez del Río) . 293 X.

Closing Remarks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 326

Index auctorum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 328

VI. Language, Style and Metre 1. Language and Style of the Metamorphoses: General Aspects 1.  M. von Albrecht, “Les comparaisons dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide”, BAGB, 1981, 24–34. 2.  M. von Albrecht, “Dichter und Leser, am Beispiel Ovids”, Gymnasium 88, 1981, 222–35 (= Das Buch der Verwandlungen. Ovid-Interpretationen, Düsseldorf-Zürich 2000, 19–31; Große römische Autoren: Texte und Themen. 3, Von Lukrez und Catull zu Ovid, Heidelberg 2013, 259–68). 3.  M. von Albrecht, “Le figlie di Anio (Ovidio Met. 13, 623–674)”, in Atti del convegno internazionale Letterature Classiche e Narratologia. Selva di Fasano (Brindisi), 6–8 ottobre 1980, Peruggia 1981, 105–15 (Materiali e Contributi per la Storia della Narrativa Greco-Latina 3). 4.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovide et ses lecteurs”, REL 59, 1981, 207–15. 5.  W. S. Anderson, “Playfulness and seriousness in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in V. Chadha (ed.), Mosaic. Journal of the comparative study of international literature, art and ideas 12.2: Special issue on the writings of Publius Ovidius Naso, New Delhi 1981, 192–210. 6.  S. E. Hinds, “Generalising about Ovid”, Ramus 16, 1987, 4–31 (= in A. J. Boyle (ed.), The Imperial Muse: Ramus Essays on Roman Literature of the Empire: to Juvenal through Ovid, Berwick 1988, 4–31; in P. E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Readings in Ovid, Oxford 2006, 15–50). 7.  A. Barchiesi, “Voci e istanze narrative nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, MD 23, 1989, 55–97 (= Speaking Volumes: Narrative and Intertext in Ovid and Other Latin Poets, London 2001, 49–78; in P. E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Readings in Ovid, Oxford 2006, 274–319). 8.  K. Galinsky, “Was Ovid a Silver Latin poet?”, ICS 14, 1989, 69–88. 9.  J. T. Kirby, “Humor and the unity of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. A narratological assessment”, in C.  Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin literature and history 5, 1989, 233–51. 10.  E. A. Schmidt, “Ovids bedeutende Kunst in den Metamorphosen”, JHAW 1989, 65–6. 11.  R. J. Tarrant, “Silver threads among the gold: a problem in the text of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, ICS 14, 1989, 103–17. 12. K. M. Coleman, “Of Various Ingenious Devices: Meaning, Expression, Theme”, Akroterion 35, 1990, 22–32. 13.  G. Tissol, “Polyphemus and his Audience: Narrative and Power in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, SyllClass 2, 1990, 45–58. 14.  J. Farrell, “Dialogue of Genres in Ovid’s ‘Lovesong of Polyphemus’ (Metamorphoses 13.719–897)”, AJPh 113, 1992, 235–68.

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15.  S. D. Kaufhold, The Reification of Figurative Language in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Diss. Cornell University, Ithaca 1993. 16.  *N. R. Berlin, Dreams in Roman Epic: The Hermeneutics of a Narrative Technique, Diss. University of Michigan, Ann Arbor 1994. 17.  P. Esposito, La narrazione inverosimile. Aspetti dell’epica ovidiana, Napoli 1994. Reviews: N. Scivoletto, GIF 47, 1995, 299–313; F. Zoccali, BStudLat 25, 1995, 226–7; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 70, 1998, 254–6. 18. *T. D. Papanghelis, “Η κλασικότητα της Αυγούστειας ποίησης”, EEThess​ (philol) 5, 1995, 45–56. 19.  L. Spahlinger, Ars latet arte sua: Untersuchungen zur Poetologie in den Metamorphosen Ovids, Stuttgart 1996. Reviews: B. Czapla, Gymnasium 105, 1998, 365–8; N. Holzberg, CR 48, 1998, 313–15; K. Galinsky, Gnomon 72, 2000, 359–61. 20.  A. Barchiesi, “Poeti epici  e narratori”, in G.  Papponetti (ed.), Metamorfosi. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi: Sulmona, 20–22 novembre 1994, Sulmona 1997, 121–41. 21.  G. Rosati, “Metafora e poetica nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Tar (ed.), Epik durch die Jahrhunderte: internationale Konferenz Szeged 2–4. Oktober 1997, Szeged 1998, 142–51. 22.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovid. 1. Inventio. Ovid and His Readers”, in Roman Epic. An Interpretative Introduction, Leiden-Boston-Köln 1999, 143–53. 23.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovid. 5. Clash of System of Values. The Daughters of Anius (Ovid, Metamorphoses, 13.  623–674)”, in Roman Epic. An Interpretative Introduction, Leiden-Boston-Köln 1999, 196–207. 24.  K. Galinsky, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Augustan Cultural Thematics”, in P.  Hardie, A.  Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations: Essays on the Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 103–11. 25.  K. Galinsky, “Ovid’s poetology in the Metamorphoses”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung: Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65 Geburtstag, Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 305–14. 26.  *C. L. Glover, The Trials of Speech: Problematic Communication in Ovid, Diss. Yale University, New Haven 1999. 27.  S. M. Wheeler, A Discourse of Wonders. Audience and Performance in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Philadelphia 1999. Recommended reviews: N. Holzberg, CR 50, 2000, 443–4; A. Barchiesi, CW 94, 2001, 287–8; B. W. Boyd, CJ 96, 2001, 228–33; D. E. Hill, Phoenix 56, 2002, 170–2; G. Rosati, Gnomon 75, 2003, 218–22. Other reviews: P. Bing, BMCR 1999.10.26; B. Rochette, LEC 67, 1999, 433–4; A. M. Keith, JRS 90, 2000, 242; T. A. Suits, NECJ 27, 2000, 100–2; D. E. Curley, CO 79, 2001, 33–4.

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28.  M. von Albrecht, “Philologie und Erzahlforschung: Die Tochter des Anius”, in Das Buch der Verwandlungen. Ovid-Interpretationen, Düsseldorf-Zürich 2000, 181–93. 29.  H. Bernsdorff, “Verbindung zwischen Kunstwerkekphrasis und Haupthandlung: Phaeton vor der Sonnenburg (met. 2, 1–18)”, in Kunstwerke und Verwandlungen. Vier Studien zu ihrer Darstellung im Werk Ovids, Frankfurt am Main 2000, 13–31 (Studien zur klassischen Philologie 117). 30.  F. Bömer, “Ovid als Erzähler: Interpretationen zur poetischen Technik der Metamorphosen”, Gymnasium 107, 2000, 1–23. 31.  R. J. Deferrari, M. I. Barry, M. R. P. McGuire, A Concordance of Ovid, Washington 1939 (repr. Hildesheim 1968, 2000). Reviews: R. T. Bruère, CPh 35, 1940, 79–82; L. Cooper, Classical Weekly 33.16, 1940, 189–90; E. K. Rand, Speculum 15, 1940, 499–500; W. A. Oldfather, AJPh 63, 1942, 105–8; F. Peeters, AC 11, 1942, 125–6. 32.  A. Barchiesi, “Narrative Technique and Narratology in the Metamorphoses”, in P. Hardie (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Ovid, Cambridge 2002, 180–99. 33.  P. Hardie, “Absent presences of language”, in Ovid’s Poetics of Illusion, Cambridge 2002, 227–57. 34.  E. J. Kenney, “Ovid’s Language and Style”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2002, 27–89. 35.  G. Rosati, “Narrative Techniques and Narrative Structures in the Metamorphoses”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2002, 271–304. 36.  C. Tsitsiou-Chelidoni, Ovid, Metamorphosen, Buch VIII. Narrative Technik und literarischer Kontext, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 2003 (Studien zur klassischen Philologie 138). Reviews: J. Hindermann, MH 62, 2005, 240–1; N. Holzberg, CR 55, 2005, 696–7; G. Rosati, BMCR 2005.07.08; F. Schaffenrath, AAHG 58, 2005, 176–7; S. Viarre, Latomus 66, 2007, 254. 37.  I. Frings, Das Spiel mit eigenen Texten. Wiederholung und Selbstzitat bei Ovid, München 2005 (Zetemata 124). Recommended reviews: J.  Burbidge, BMCR 2008.09.31; S. Clément-Tarantino, BAGB 2008, 218–23. Other reviews: S. Adam, AAHG 60, 2007, 189–91; F. F. Grewing, Gymnasium 114, 2007, 272–4; O. Poltera, MH 64, 2007, 245; P. Tordeur AC 76, 2007, 330–1; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 80, 2008, 357–8; M.  Öhrman, CR 59, 2009, 298–9. 38.  M. Fucecchi, “Encountering the fantastic: expectations, forms of communication, reactions”, in P. Hardie (ed.), Paradox and the Marvellous in Augustan Literature and Culture, Oxford-New York 2009, 213–30. 39.  R. Henneböhl, “Ut spectaculum poesis. Ovidische Dichtung und szenische Interpretation”, AU 52, 2009, 56–64.

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40.  F. Wittchow, Ars Romana. List und Improvisation in der augusteischen Lite­ ratur, Heidelberg 2009. Reviews: S. J. Harrison, Gnomon 83, 2011, 464–6; N. Holzberg, Latomus 70, 2011, 839–42; J. Poucet, AC 80, 2011, 308–9. 41.  R. Heinze, Il racconto elegiaco di Ovidio, trad. italiana di C. Travan, con una premessa di F. Serpa, Trieste 2010 (Dicti studiosus: classici della filologia in traduzione 1). Reviews: J. A. Bellido Díaz, ExClass 14, 2010, 375–8; B. Larosa, BMCR 2010.10.43; S. Viarre, REL 89, 2011, 371; D. Ghira, Maia 64, 2012, 410–12; A. Arena, Latomus 72, 2013, 1149–51. 42.  M. Gioseffi, “Guerre di genere  e tecnica degli interstizi: Ovidio, Petronio, Properzio e altri”, CentoPagine 5, 2011, 24–42. 43.  F. Klein, “L’ἕν ἄεισμα διηνεκές ou la poétique de l’épopée en question: étude de quelques manifestations de la uox poetae dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide”, in E. Raymond (ed.), Vox poetae. Manifestations auctoriales dans l’ épopée gréco-latine. Actes du colloque organisé les 13 et 14 novembre 2008 par l’Université Lyon 3, Paris 2011, 335–54. 44.  M. Ledentu, “La voix du poète et ses mises en scène dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide”, in E. Raymond (ed.), Vox poetae. Manifestations auctoriales dans l’ épopée gréco-latine. Actes du colloque organisé les 13 et 14 novembre 2008 par l’Université Lyon 3, Paris 2011, 157–81. 45.  F. Graziani, “Synthesis mythographique et confabulatio poétique: une lecture humaniste du principe de structuration des Métamorphoses”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 271–83. 46.  R. Guarino Ortega, “Mentiras y verdades a medias en algunos mitos ovidianos”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 177–95. 47.  J. L. Vidal Pérez, “Las Metamorfosis de Ovidio: la manera irónica de la épica augustea”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 127–39. 48.  D. Curley, Tragedy in Ovid: Theater, Metatheater, and the Transformation of a Genre, Cambridge-New York 2013. Reviews: N. Holzberg, Gymnasium 121, 2014, 613–14; G. Silva, Euphrosyne 43, 2015, 395–6; J. B. DeBrohun, CR 67, 2017, 416–18. 49.  N. Holzberg, “Ovid: Textspektrum, Interpretationsaspekte, Fortwirken”, AU 56, 2013, 1–11. 50.  S. Kyriakidis, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses: The Text Before and After”, LICS 11, 2013, 1–17. 51.  C. Schmitz, “Liebeserklärungen: zum narrativen Potential in Ovids Metamorphosen”, Gymnasium 120, 2013, 139–67. 52.  H. Horstmann, Erzähler – Text – Leser in Ovids Metamorphosen, Frankfurt am Main 2014.

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Ovid’s Language and Style Perhaps the most relevant paper for the scope of this chapter is that of Edward J. Kenney (34). The editor of the Brill Companion considered that no-one could offer a better overview and assessment than Kenney of such an extensive and evasive subject as “the language and style of Ovid”. In fact, Kenney had already published an essay on the style of the met. (“The Style of the Metamorphoses”, in J. W. Binns (ed.), Ovid, London-Boston 1973, 116–53), which is reproduced here (sections VI–X; 56–89) with “occasional corrections and some modest amplification”; sections I–V (27–56) on elegiac poems are new and include some valuable and “additional data relating to the Metamorphoses” (89). This contribution is, to put it simply, timeless and fundamental. The introductory section (27–30) briefly presents two crucial points: the use of the pentameter, which is essential to understand Ovid’s style in elegiac poetry (27–8); and the apparent facility of Ovid’s writing, which applies to all his poetic corpus (29–30). Ovid, as Kenney rightly states, wrote with “seeming facility” because he had shaped “a medium of expression that […] became second nature to him: ars adeo latet arte sua”. While the second section (30–6) is entirely devoted to Ovid’s use of elegiac couplet, naturally some observations also apply to his hexameter κατὰ στίχον (e.g. its metrical fluency). The third section (36–43) examines Ovid’s elegiac style, which is “simple and unaffected”, “smooth and fluent”, but not prosaic. This is exemplified (37–8) through an analysis of the usage of 4-syllable nouns in -itas and 5-syllable adjectives in -iosus (usage in met. is also included). Kenney also studies the creation of compounds (38–9), the employment of Greek proper names (39–41), prepositions, conjunctions and adverbs (41–3), and the preference for parataxis (41–2). The fourth section deals with syntactical features (43–8), most of which are also present in the met. (e.g. the particular usage of -que and nec / neque 44–5, the pervasive use of syllepsis 45–7 etc.). The fifth section (48–56) focuses on the epigrammatic nature of Ovidian couplet. The first section about met. (56–61) deals with Ovid’s calculated distancing from Virgil in matters of style, confronts some negative assessments aroused by this, and reflects on general aspects of Ovid’s style in the met. Kenney’s most relevant contention is, in my opinion, that Ovid did not ‘debase’ or ‘profane’ Virgil’s style and diction. Instead, his adaptations of Virgil’s phraseology “are best seen as deliberate vulgarization (in the strict French sense) by a poet who was himself a master-craftsman” (58–9). It also seems pertinent to observe that, regardless of the different opinions on the question of genre and the purpose of the poem (56–7), narrative has a dominant importance in the met. and so the reader is “always being carried on”. Again, smoothness and speed are two salient qualities of Ovid’s hexameter (58). The story at hand is always present, but “the reader is constantly entertained by unexpected changes […], all illuminated and sustained by a verbal wit that from time to time broadens into a full-scale tour de force” (59–61). In section VII (61–70), Kenney offers a balanced analysis of Ovidian vocabulary in the met., taking the Aeneid as a reference of Latin epic diction. The general conclusion is that Ovid decided to “follow a via media between ordinary speech and cultivated literary diction” (61) and succeeded in creating a “copious and limpid style” which he

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applied with unprecedented efficiency (70). The study of compounds, a typically epic feature, deserves special mention (62–7). This shows that Ovid’s choice of vocabulary does not differ much from that of Virgil, and that he was innovative within the boundaries of tradition. His use of compounds responds both to expressiveness and metrical convenience. Other Ovidian predilections (67–9) pointed out by Kenney are intended to make his verse smooth and dactylic: e.g. adjectives in -ilis, neuters in -men, Greek proper names (and their corresponding derivatives). Section VIII (70–4) studies Ovid’s syntactical usages. Kenney’s principal idea is that Ovid is not licentious or anomalous in his grammatical choices. On the contrary, his use of cases, hyperbaton, word order etc. is functional and efficient, as well as flexible. Section IX (74–8) looks at rhetoric. When writing a poem like the met., in order to sustain the reader’s attention, Ovid had to keep the poem moving constantly and to adapt his tone and tempo accordingly. This imposed on him the need to combine “elegiac brevity” and “flowing amplitude”, which is why he can be considered as both terse and long-winded, but never monotonous. Kenney provides a series of very interesting examples of how this could be achieved, and remarks that Ovid was able to apply an enormous range of variations to some basic resources (‘theme and variation’, tricolon, anaphora, paradox, enjambment, inclusion of sententiae, etc.). In the last section (78–89), Kenney tries to illustrate some of Ovid’s techniques, commenting on some slightly longer passages which he deems correctly to be representative (7.100–19, 10.368–81, 1.325–30, 2.873–5, 2.227–34, 5.425–37). Kenney finally asserts that it was in the description of “human actions and emotions […] that Ovid displayed the full range of his poetic powers” (89). I now turn to some works that address Ovid’s language and style, but in  a less systematic or comprehensive way. Richard Tarrant (11) shows that some variant readings in the met. which can be defended on the basis of Silver Age parallels, though often attractive, are likely to be interpolations of readers who were familiar with Neronian and Flavian poetry. These additions were arguably embellishments or ‘improvements’ of the original, devised as exercises of aemulatio that attempted to adjust Ovidian language to the usages of later authors. While trying to identify these intrusions, some notes on Ovid’s style are put forward (e.g. 112–15 on adjectives in -ax). Niklas Holzberg’s informative article (49) surveys Ovid’s poetic career (1–4). He contends that Ovid systematically planned his oeuvre as parallel to that of Virgil, in order to become “der Vergil der Elegie” (4). Holzberg points out that Ovid was not only original in his choice of themes and genres, but also in the use of metre and language (4–5). Holzberg emphasises the fluidity of Ovid’s lines, the epigrammatic nature of his pentameters, his ‘unpresumptuous’ diction, and agrees with Kenney in describing his style as “the perfection of a poetic koine” (5). Holzberg also mentions Ovid’s predilection for allusion and intertextuality (5, 7). In addition, he discusses Ovid’s relationship with the Augustan context (7) and singles out some elements that have guaranteed the poet’s success (7–8; e.g. his humour, his ingenium, his extraordinary talent as a narrator, and his insight into human nature). Finally, Holzberg reviews

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Ovid’s influence and reception (8–10). The inclusion of examples would have made this a memorable article. Irene Frings’ book (37) is the first extensive study on Ovid’s self-imitation since Albert Lüneburg’s De Ovidio sui imitatore (Jenae 1888). She tries to show how this procedure allows Ovid to break boundaries between texts and genres. The book is organised into three main sections: an introduction (10–64), self-imitation within individual works (65–100), and self-imitation between different works (101–262). Each section is conveniently subdivided. I shall comment briefly on several points. In the introduction, Frings tries to distinguish intentional and unintentional repetition (32–64). This is a very tricky issue. In my opinion, most repetitions or selfimitation cannot be considered as the simple result of unconscious composition patterns on Ovid’s part (as Robin Nisbet once put it, “he is too clever”: MD 26, 1991, 67). But more importantly, it is often impossible to prove it one way or the other, so the study of self-imitation should not be too concerned with this particular distinction. The useful section on self-imitation within individual works raises many interesting issues (such as verbal correspondences between single and double Heroides 90–100). Even more stimulating is the third section (especially the last one about the exile poetry, 210–62). For the reader of the met., one chapter is worth mentioning: “Elegisches in den Metamorphosen” (163–210), in which allusions to elegiac compositions are sought in the episodes of Narcissus, Anaxaretes, Ibis, Byblis and Cephalus (clearly more instances could be added). Thankfully, the volume includes both an index locorum (278–88) and a general one (289–302). Fring’s book, especially section 2, has to be consulted together with Wills’ essential monograph (Repetition in Latin Poetry: Figures of Allusion, Oxford 1996; see on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’). The data of the book was largely gathered from the concordance mentioned below (31). I cannot end this subsection without addressing Richard Heinze’s (41) immortal book. Originally published in 1919, it attempted to explain the differences between epic and elegiac diction. Heinze also wanted to contribute to the appreciation of Ovid’s style and effective use of both genres through a comparison of passages from fast. and met. (e.g. he regarded Persephone’s tale in fast. as ‘elegiac’ and that in met. as ‘epic’). The “premessa” of Franco Serpa from this Italian edition reviews Heinze’s influence on Virgilian and Ovidian studies. See also on ‘II. Reference works’ and ‘V.3 Literary Genres’. Concordance One can certainly understand the need to reprint the Ovidian concordance (31) prepared by Deferrari, Barry and McGuire in 1968, although less so in 2000. The work, originally published in 1939, is a useful instrument for studying the language and style of Ovid (checking frequencies, precise usages of words, even iuncturae or making other similar inquiries). However, it has been rightly criticised for recording the specific forms under each lemma by order of appearance instead of alphabetically, which is most inconvenient. On the other hand, the text used was the Teubner edition,

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available as of 1932 (i. e. Ehwald-Lenz-Levy-Vollmer), to which improvements have been made since then (furthermore, textual variants are completely ignored and accepted conjectures are not singled out). Generally speaking, I tend to regard this kind of works as superseded by online concordances (cf. the Analytical Onomasticon to the Metamorphoses of Ovid in ‘III. Websites’) or tools like the Brepols Library of Latin Texts. Still, a concordance might sometimes still be of use (plus we might draw interesting data from older works like O. Eichert, F. Fügner, Wörterbuch zu den Verwandlungen des Publius Ovidius Naso, Hannover – Leipzig 190411; or L. Quicherat’s Thesaurus poeticus, Paris 192231 – both books are also reprinted by Olms Verlag in 1972 and 1967 resp.). Understanding Ovid’s poetics  William Anderson (5) tries to free Ovid from the misunderstanding and hostility of critics, who especially since the 19th c. have rebuked him as a frivolous poet lacking commitment, as  a victim of luxuria and lascivia (193–5). Anderson rightly asserts that a great artist is not necessarily obliged to deal seriously with serious and existential issues (193). He then assesses the Actaeon episode (195–203) and concludes that the traditional “opposition of lascivia and gravitas” is “fundamentally wrong”; Ovid can be both serious and playful at the same time (203). Anderson then turns to the episodes of Byblis and Myrrha (206–7) and again concludes that Ovid is, more than any other Roman writer, “a poet of scintillating imagination with wide understanding and experience of humanity” and, like life itself, he is able to entangle humour and pathos (207–9). As E. J. Kenney (CR 32, 1982, 276) has rightly stated, with such assessments, “Ovidian criticism has [finally] come of age”. Similarly, Stephen Hinds (6), in this important article, confronts some “ageing generalizations” and long established views about Ovid that persisted in the late 80s and which, in part, might even survive today. Hinds first challenges the idea of Ovid as a shallow and “over-explicit” poet through an insightful analysis of am. 1.5 (4–11). He then defies the notion that Ovid was an “excessively literary poet”, and denies the opposition between “sincerity” and “literariness”, or allusivity (11–23). Lastly, he contends that Ovid was not a “passive panegyricist” of the emperor (when the article was published, this idea was already in decline as concerns Ovid, but it was still often extended to the Silver Age poets). Hinds analyses Caesar’s panegyric in met. 15.750–8 and the subsequent deification (15.760–1), and points out the subtle ironies that turn an apparently inert panegyric into a subversive rhetorical piece (23–5). Hinds claims that this might have been an important legacy to later poets (29), like Lucan (he examines Lucan. 1.45–58: 25–9). John Kirby (9) affirms that humour is “one of the forces that unify the work” (233) and explores the vexata quaestio, originating in Quintilian, whether humour and playfulness are “out of place in heroic verse”. These leads to a consideration of the nature of epic compositions in Antiquity, and of the met. in particular (234–7). Kirby then contends that Ovid’s lascivia and ingenium are not inappropriate to heroi, even if this implies that we need to partially modify our notions about what was

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appropriate to hexameters (237). Finally, Kirby analyses (238–51) three episodes of met. (1.747–2.400, 6.412–674, 11.266–748) to show that humour functions on the three narrative levels of Gérard Genette (“histoire”, “récit”, “narration”). See also on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’. The unfocused paper of Kathleen Coleman (12) seems to explore how the choice of themes, meanings and expressions in the met. deliberately conveys “the nexus of opposites, tensions, and polarities in human affairs” (30). To begin with, Coleman states that the most pervasive tension is between serious, even tragic subjects and the “flippant”, “melodramatic” or “irreverent” treatment they receive (21, 23–4). Other tensions arise from the mixture of genres (21–2), from discrepancies between words and intended meaning (22), the opposition of carmen perpetuum and deductum (22–3), between the announced chronological disposition of the work and “mythological chronology” (24–7), among others. Coleman says (26) that the metamorphosis was, for Ovid, a thematic background that enables one story to be linked to another (an idea mostly outdated, by the way). In the last part of the article, she studies how some of these tensions are recorded in specific expressions (27–30). Garth Tissol (13) discusses what kind of emotional engagement Ovid demands from his readers. First, Tissol wishes to deny that Ovid’s “disruptive and ever-shifting” style precludes the same degree of engagement one can feel when reading more sustained works (46). He then recalls the definition of Jauss’ “aesthetic distance”, which is not incompatible with “the reader’s emotional and sensuous surrender” (46–7). Tissol explains that by “disruptive” he means “the changeable character of Ovidian plot, tone, and generic reference – all closely related constituents of narrative”: Ovid tends to confuse his audience’s expectations, “introducing abrupt and surprising changes”, while moving from a serious tone to a comic one or the other way round, or introducing  a “sudden change in the allusive associations” (47). This constant disruptiveness in a long poem is only possible, argues Tissol, because Ovid encourages our engagement in the story at hand, not in the “large formal schemes” (48). These important preliminary thoughts are exemplified in a close reading of Polyphemus’ episode in met. 13 (48–58). The main conclusion is that the disruptiveness of Ovidian narrative demands  a “greater range of emotional response” than most works and this involvement offers “a perspective on the discontinuity, hazard, and imperfect comprehensibility of human affairs” (58). Another similar point is made by José Luis Vidal (47). He argues that Ovid wanted, above all, to write an amusing poem (139), which is not, of course, incompatible with offering a penetrating insight of human nature (128). This amusement often implied taking the reader to the verge of protest, and then disarming him with an exhibition of wit (139). Vidal shows how this was achieved through irony and the irreverent subversion of the conventions of epic (and didactic)  poetry. He compares some passages from book 6 to Virgil (and Accius) (132–9). Joseph Farrell (14) regards the met. as a dialogue or polyphony of literary genres (238–40, 267–8) and analyses Polyphemus’ episode (met. 13.719–897) as a prominent example of this dialogue (240–67). He draws some conclusions that might inform the interpretation of the poem as a whole (267–8).

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Similar conclusions are reached by Paolo Esposito (17), who tries to offer a definition of the met. through the study of intertextuality. The first half of the book focuses on the epic predecessors of Ovid, mainly Virgil and Homer. Esposito exemplifies how Ovid laid bare the conventions of the genre by adapting at his pleasure pre-existent material (11–36). This is further exemplified by his appropriation and subversion of specific conventions and topoi such as battles (37–49), duels (51–67) and grotesque or macabre elements (69–84). The second half of the book looks at Ovid as a model and foundation for the Silver Age poetics and style, namely Lucan (85–133). A final chapter examines Ovid’s presence in the Commenta Bernensia on Lucan (135–45). After that, Esposito attempts his definition of the met. (147–64). In broad terms, he conceives the poem as  a highly sophisticated summa of the possibilities of all hexameter genres with occasional intrusions of other genres such as tragedy, lyric or elegy. The endless dialogue with the models makes it possible for Ovid to either distance himself from conventions or to develop them up to the paradoxical (161). Therefore, Esposito contends that it can be dangerous to take single episodes as reading keys for the whole (163). On the other hand, Karl Galinsky (25) claims that most studies, focused on literary style, tradition and genre, are too limiting and that larger issues have been long forgotten. Thus Galinsky tries to delineate Ovid’s poetic endeavour and goals through a brief analysis of “what can be considered the major poetological passages” in the met., which are placed as mimicking the poem’s pentadic structure (308). The proem sets Ovid in the traditions of archaic epic and Hellenistic poetry, in a “grand mixtum compositum” (306–7). The Persephone episode in book 5 is a vindication of Ovid’s innovative adaptation of his models (309–10). The episode should not be studied in terms of genre, but as the ability to referre idem aliter (ars 2.128), which is “a cornerstone in the Ovidian poetic program” (308). In book 10 Orpheus, like Ovid himself, “announces boundaries only to transgress them” (312), while Pygmalion emphasizes the importance of the reader’s reception (Ovid often presents characters and situations that might elicit varied reactions). Finally, Pythagoras’ speech is used to show that philosophy is no better way of explanation than myth, and to convey the idea that Ovid could have written a poem like De rerum natura, had he chosen to do so (313–14). The final sphragis, argues Galinsky, suggests that Ovid does not have faith in revealed truth of the vates, but in fiction, which tells us “more about the human condition” (314). Florence Klein (43) studies manifestations of the vox poetae in the met. in which the ‘poet’s voice’ assumes responsibility of compositional and aesthetic choices. Klein argues that this vox poetae appears in intertextual allusions, and in the complex relationship that the poem establishes with its models, rather than in the subjective voice of the main narrator. This allows a more comprehensive understanding of the poem’s generic status, and of the tension between epos and Callimachean recusatio. Klein identifies a mirroring of the poem’s narrative discontinuity in Mercury’s flight in book 2 (340–4). Likewise, Phaethon’s frenzied race symbolises the Callimachean program (340–50). But the storm in book 11 puts an end to the ‘big digression’ that the poem has hitherto been. From that point up to the final book, traditional epic material is resumed and the poem is brought ad mea tempora (350–4).

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Stratis Kyriakidis suggests in a very stimulating paper (50) that the temporal limits of the met. are deliberately left open at both ends. In other words: Ovid suggests that his poem already existed before the cosmos and that it will continue to exist sine fine, beyond temporal or spatial confines (12–13). The first conclusion is reached by means of analysing the catalogue at met. 1.5–14 (3–6), which is the very first instance of what the author calls “extratextual mirroring” (i. e. the elements in the catalogue imitate a scene or situation). Kyriakidis persuasively argues that the catalogue discloses the notion that the poet, ποιητής, is also the fabricator mundi (1.57) and that his poem is the model upon which the cosmos is created. He then briefly addresses met. 1.34–5 (6–7) and 1.45–51 (7–9). The second conclusion is reached by studying the sphragis (met. 15.875–9) in the light of trist. 2.63–4 and the allusions of the couplet to Verg. Aen. 1.279 and 7.45 (9–12). As for Ovid’s Augustanism, Karl Galinsky has often argued, against the communis opinio, that Ovid is the most genuine representative of the Augustan culture. I shall comment on two of his papers (8, 24) on the topic. They both actually anticipate or complete some of Galinsky’s ideas in his famous monograph Augustan Culture. An Interpretative Introduction, Princeton 1996 (see on ‘II. Reference Works’). In the first paper, Galinsky (8) challenges the idea that Ovid’s poetry was the harbinger of Silver Age poetry. He contends that Ovid, especially in the met., is the “truest product of the Augustan age” (71), since he had been born into the pax Augusta and could more freely celebrate the otium enabled by the new regime. He could also develop the mixture of genres or move forward an Alexandrianism already present in Horace or Virgil and in Augustan culture in general (71–3). The emphasis on individual episodes rather than on large friezes was also characteristic of Augustan art (74–6), although Ovid used that to his own poetic advantage. After briefly comparing Ovid’s favouring of mythological themes to that of the Silver epic poets (76–8), Galinsky assesses Ovid’s influence on them by studying their adaptation of two major epic motives (the sea storm 79–82 and the νέκυια 82–6). He also briefly studies the influence of Ovidian vocabulary (86–8). As a general conclusion, he points out that the Ovidian influence on Silver poets was not as important as is usually believed. In the second paper, Galinsky (24) shows in  a more detailed way the affinities between Ovid’s met. and what he persuasively calls “Augustan cultural thematics” (rather than “Augustan ideology”). He insists on the “typically Augustan tendency to draw on, meld, and combine all previous traditions and to creatively make them into a new whole” (107) and produces examples of this synthesis of tradition and innovation in Augustan legislation, religion, architecture, urbanism or art. The analogy with the Metamorphoses is quite obvious so that “Ovid’s emphasis on change” does not “contravene the concept of Roma aeterna” (106). Likewise, it seems just adequate that “the Metamorphoses is characterized by both great variety (in both content and form) and by an extraordinary amount of detailed experiment within traditional practice” (110). As in the previous paper, the Ovidian emphasis on individual episodes tied to others by multiple allusions is compared to Augustan reliefs and wall-paintings (110). Likewise, the unifying role of Ovid is associated with Augustus’ reshaping of Rome (110–11).

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Much more part of traditional criticism, Theodoros Papanghelis (18) looks at the poetics of the Augustan age. He understands that the poetae novi combined and adapted the aesthetic principles of Alexandrian poetry with Roman gravitas, in order to deliver a discourse that favoured the new regime. He also understands that both the Aen. and the met. illustrate this literary renovation. On other topics, Françoise Graziani (45) reviews how met. were understood and interpreted by the humanists. As Michael von Albrecht puts it (Myrtia 29, 2014, 459), Graziani’s paper demonstrates how the study of the reception can occasionally shed light onto a text. Renaissance scholars saw in the carmen perpetuum an example of synthesis in the Aristotelian sense (poet. 6 σύνθεσις τῶν πραγμάτων; cf. 276). They also appreciated that Ovid was able to seize and renew the traditional material at his disposal (272). The mythical material in the poem seems to be organized according to the principle of confabulatio (in Boccaccio’s terms): the poet organises his fables in order to encode or encrypt allegorical meanings in  a concordia discors (274). Only a true vates, someone who can penetrate the secrets of nature, is able to achieve this (276). The sense of the whole should surface, for instance, from the study of the symmetries and variations (273–4, 278–81), but also in details of individual episodes (282). However, this also means that Ovid is suggesting multiple ways of interpretation, which Graziani exemplifies in the contest of Minerva and Arachne (282–3). Other general considerations Lother Spahlinger’s book (19) is  a slightly revised version of his doctoral dissertation. He analyses the proem, the sphragis (27–50) and every episode of the met. in which an artist (50–200) or a work of art (264–321) is somehow involved, as well as passages important for the “Götterbild” (201–62), particularly the cosmogony. As a coda (“Musterinterpretationen”) he also studies the episodes of Apollo and Daphne (332–40) and Byblis (340–7). Spahlinger contends that every form of art aspires to reproduce nature in a godly and idealized way, so that the artist becomes a vates or creator that obeys deities (86–7). For the scholar, this religious dimension also means that art can be an act of pietas, not only guaranteeing the success of an artwork, but also enabling an interpretation of the world (197–200). Thus Ovid’s poem is pervaded by his aim to be a vates (325–6). In his interpretation of the poem, Spahlinger admittedly gets quite close to the Ovide moralisé (331), which is indeed surprising. With good reason, the book has been harshly reviewed by Holzberg and Galinsky. Christopher Glover (26) studies “difficulty with communication as  a recurrent theme in Ovid’s poetry”. After a first chapter devoted to am. and ars, Glover turns to met. (48–130). To begin with, he examines the stories of Medea, Scylla, and Althaea. He then studies the narratives of Byblis and Myrrha, which are presented as manipulators of language. According to Glover, their loss of speech (through transformation) reflects their alienation. Thus the author comments on the transformation as a linguistic phenomenon, namely in the episodes of Lycaon, Philomela, Io, Callisto, and Actaeon. Glover then discusses loss of speech in the light of Pythagoras’ discourse.

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The chapter ends with some general considerations on communicative difficulties in the met. Frank Wittchow (40) argues that cunning (“List” in German) is a more relevant element in Roman literature than had been previously recognized. The range of authors studied includes Plautus, Terence, Livy, Virgil, Tibullus, Propertius and Ovid. After dealing briefly with Ovid’s amatory elegy (274–85), Wittchow devotes a final and somewhat speculative section (287–370) to analysing deceit and cunning in met., attempting to ascertain its relationship to nature, order, change and epic truth. He also explores the interaction of deception, words and violence. Wittchow understands metamorphosis as  a deceitful solution to conflicts that causes instability to be the ruling principle of the world. Thus cunning, the poet’s cunning in primis, becomes the element that allows order and change to be encompassed (365–6). He studies in some detail the episode of Tereus and Philomela (esp. 327–49), but he also addresses, among others, those of Ulysses and Ajax (319–21, 353–4), Aegina’s plague (324–6), Hercules (355–66), and Aeneas (esp. 366–70). In a similar way, Rosario Guarino (46) tries to show, with a selection of passages, that lies, half-truths and deception are recurrent elements in the met. The methodical doubt shown by the poet throughout the poem is also pervaded with irony, although the final vivam encapsulates the poet’s self-confidence (195). Narrative, narrators and narrative technique It will come as no surprise that narratology has been extremely fertile soil for Ovidian studies. I shall begin by reviewing two parallel and complementary papers of ­A lessandro Barchiesi (32) and Gianpiero Rosati (35). They both masterfully establish the status quaestionis of Ovid’s narrative technique in the met. in light of narratological approaches. Of course, for both of them, the main concern is the multiple voices and the constant succession of narratives. They both agree that the embedded narratives are  a reflection of the main one, that the Ovidian narrators show  a high degree of literary self-consciousness, and that the internal narrations provide keys for the interpretation of the main narrative. In the end, all this challenges the idea of ‘epic truth’. Furthermore, they consider to what extent, from the narratological perspective, there is an “Ovid supernarrator” that organizes the whole. They also address the double nature of the poem (unitary and fragmentary at the same time). I shall make further comments about each paper. Barchiesi (32) claims that Ovid developed the Odyssean tradition of narrative, and that he succeeded in creating a poem that “is ‘mostly about narrative’, if we consider the strategic importance of telling stories” (181). Barchiesi observes that individual narrators usually do not produce the desired effect over their internal audience (184). However, they lay bare the conventions of the epos, while showing awareness of the shortcomings of the narrative medium. Thus, Ovid blurs the boundaries between narrative and direct speech (185–6) with the result that “belief can be renegotiated at any moment” (197). Barchiesi finally looks in some detail at Arethusa’s paradigmatic narrative (188–95).

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On the whole, Rosati (35) is somewhat more straightforward. He argues that the many narrators are surrogates for the author, providing us with information about how Ovid organises the structure and meaning of the poem; on the other hand, the internal audiences are surrogates for the readers and introduce possible models of interpretation (273; cf. 286–7). Likewise, metadiegesis is a powerful instrument of literary self-consciousness (283–6). It can also point out intratextual relationships (287–9) or be used to frustrate the reader’s expectations (289–90). The analysis of the embedded narratives also shows that the narrators are often self-interested, and this makes us question the reliability of their stories, as well as the ‘epic truth’ that the main narrator should convey (290–304). In addition, Rosati comments on the double structural principle that informed met. (276–82): the chronological order (from chaos to the present) and the analogic one (stories linked by themes, characters, places, etc.). Rosati remembers (280–2) that the problems of time are now seen as deliberate on Ovid’s part (they disrupt the teleological structure of the Augustan Age). As a matter of fact, Alessandro Barchiesi had already studied Ovidian narrative technique in two previous articles (7, 20). Taking up an affirmation of Solodow (“I believe there is basically  a single narrator throughout, who is Ovid himself ”), Barchiesi (7) tries to better define the polyphony of the met.: certainly there are no different stylistic voices, but there is an alternation of registers of the single narrator. Barchiesi even suggests that polyeideia would be a more suitable term than polyphony, and claims that it would be inadequate to deny the metadiegetic nature of internal narrators (55–6). The relationship between main narrative and embedded one is not irrelevant or casual. The reception of the story by an internal audience offers interpretative keys, or there might be an implicit connection between the narrator and the theme or style with which he or she is entrusted (56–7). Then, to show the risks of ignoring these issues and identifying all voices with that of Ovid, Barchiesi analyses the different stories narrated at the banquet of Achelous (57–64) and in the impressive narrative of Orpheus (64–73). The example of Orpheus also shows that the metadiegetic structure offers an appropriate context for Ovidian irony (73). Then, Barchiesi tries to further prove his findings through an analysis of Pythagoras’ episode (met. 15.60–480: 74–83). While defending the authenticity of lines 15.426–31, Barchiesi also comments on the Augustanism of the poem (84–96). In another worth reading article, Barchiesi (20) studies the use of narratives in the met. as an expression of Ovid’s poetics and its relationship with epic tradition. He indicates that Ovid motivates each narration, while at the same time the aetiology of his stories is very free (121). The use of embedded narration also reveals a strong poetic self-consciousness (esp. 125–6), since intertwinement of embedded narration and issues of poetics already existed in classic epos, like Od. (126–30) or Aen. (130–5). Barchiesi points out that in traditional epic metadiegetic narrations tend to be self-motivated (135–6), while in Ovid main and secondary narratives tend to complete one another (138–9). However, Barchiesi observes, the plan of the Ovidian carmen (from Chaos to mea tempora) would not need any metadiegesis whatsoever (136), and every single analepsis reveals that the carmen perpetuum is actually full of narrative voids (137). Barchiesi concludes that the mass of possible narrators and

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stories would be unintelligible without the poet’s guidance, and therefore voids and interstices in the met. have a crucial and unparalleled importance (141). Massimo Gioseffi (42) studies the importance of this very topic: voids and interstices. Although his paper deals with met. only peripherally, it can certainly inform our interpretation of the poem. He analyses different episodes of the Aeneid that were adapted to genres other than epic through the so-called ‘technique of the interstices’. In other words: many Imperial Age writers identified lacunae in the Virgilian narrative and placed these gaps at the centre of their version, while condensing what had already been told by their predecessors and conserving the original main plot. As far as Ovid is concerned, Gioseffi studies the narration of Evander’s arrival in fast. 1.461–586 (25–9). He also examines Caieta’s brief episode in met. 14.157 and 441–5, not as an example of expansion but of correction (35–6). Both these techniques are certainly at work in met. Many books have been written about Ovid’s narrative technique, but the study by Chrysante Tsitsiou-Chelidoni (36), originating in her doctoral dissertation, is the first ‘narrative commentary’ on an individual book of the met. She examines thoroughly the inner structure and literary organization of each episode (33–361), but also includes informative comments focused on many specific passages (intertextuality, style, metre, etc.). Two shorter chapters study the structure of the book as  a unit (363–89) and its role within Ovid’s poem (389–418). On the whole, TsitsiouChelidoni tries to highlight the continuous and coherent literary character of the met. A general index would have been useful. Turning to more specific matters, Michael von Albrecht (3) looks into the narrative technique in the story of Anius’ daughters. More precisely, he studies the ‘objectivation’ and ‘verbalization’ of the relationship between author and reader. Von Albrecht analyses (108–9) the careful disposition of verbal tenses in the introductory part of the tale (met. 13.623–39). He then turns to the tale itself (13.640–74) and illustrates how Ovid arranges the linguistic material to compose and organize his narrative (108–12), and also in relation to the poem as a whole (112–13). Von Albrecht concludes that, in this episode, the literary technique enhances the interaction between author and reader, and that the text is unexpectedly laconic and restrained for an author usually branded as loquacious (113). Not unsurprisingly, von Albrecht also argues that Ovid optimizes Latin language and the resources of epic tradition in order to obtain a vast range of expressive and touching means (112). As a coda, von Albrecht comments on the applicability of the narratological theories of Claude Bremond to other tales of the met. (113–15). This paper was later reused and adapted (23, 28). In 1981 Michael von Albrecht issued another important investigation on what the Ovidian work can tell us about the reading habits of the ancient public, and about the dialogue which the author establishes with his readers, in two almost identical articles: one in French (4) and the other in German (2), discreetly expanded, and which I use as reference. To achieve his aim, von Albrecht examines some characteristics of style and narrative technique in the met., in principle the most ‘objective’ work of Ovid, in which this interaction can be appreciated. The proceedings identified are as follows: second person with general value (225); observations which anticipate the reader’s

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objections (225–6); the use of allusions as a wink to the reader (226–8); changes in narrative rhythm (228–9); and use of rhetorical plays (229) which allow to capture and maintain the reader’s attention; elements which create distance between the tale and reader (229–31); insertion of similes somewhere in the episode with a specific intention (231; cf. also number 1, on which see below); use of transitions (232), as well as other means of guiding and orientating the reader (232–4), like the use of key-words or tragic irony. All this allows the reader to feel some complicity with the narrator, and to prepare for the successive stages of the story and to interpret it (von Albrecht also suggests that these distinctive features can be used for didactic purposes: 234–5). I believe that this is an important article for interpreting the met. (it also has some textual implications: see 234). A large part of this material was also reused in a section of another work about met. (22). The primary narrator had been an aspect largely ignored by Ovidian scholarship, which has been more concerned with the internal narrators (see on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’). Von Albrecht certainly contributed to launching this area of research (see above), but this lacuna is now satisfactorily filled by the works of Wheeler (27) and Horstmann (52) and, to  a lesser extent, by the contribution of Ledentu (44). Stephen Wheeler’s book (27) is one of the best narratological approaches to the met. as  a whole, although some chapters could have benefited from more clarity. Using rhetorical and narratological criticism as a methodological framework (4), he pursues a study on the external narrator and his audience. After an extensive analysis of the proem (10–33), chapters 2–3 show that the external narrator presents himself as a singer who repeatedly addresses the public (34–87). Thus the reader can imagine the poem as “a continuous viva-voce performance” (87; cf. 3, 86). It is interesting that Ovid attempts to silence or to play with the written character of the poem (87–93), particularly through the use of book divisions. In chapter 3, Wheeler also examines the relationship between the various narrative instances, and internal and external audiences (74–87). In chapter 4 (94–116), Wheeler studies the procedures used for addressing the audience (i. e. generalizing second person, first person plural, rhetorical questions, negation, parenthesis, apostrophe etc.; cf. also chapter 6, 140–61, for a survey on the tradition of the generalizing second person, and appendix B, 211–12, for a review of ancient and modern discussions on the generalizing second person). On the other hand, the poem can be seen as perpetuum because of the broadly chronological arrangement of the structure, although Ovid intentionally tampers with this order; in chapter 5, Wheeler re-examines the notion of time in the poem and contends that continuity actually lies in the poem’s own performance (117–39). Chapter 7 (162–93) argues that, as the primary narrator retreats behind secondary narrators, the audience must evaluate the truthfulness of what is being told, and is compelled to confront the internal audience’s response to its own. In the final chapter (194–205), Wheeler investigates elements devised to provide the poem with contemporary force, and to make Rome a reference for the reception of Greek myth and culture. The book includes a catalogue of internal narrators and audiences in appendix A (203–10), an index locorum (261–4) and a general index (265–72).

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Similarly, Marie Ledentu (44) looks at the multiplicity of intradiegetic narrators in the met., but she also identifies a single extradiegetic narrator that organises the whole. The authorial voice is recognized in the first person singular (162–5), apostrophes to the second person (165–8) and in “enoncés détachés de marques de personne” (158–62). A useful appendix offers the examples of ‘authorial manifestations’ identified by Ledentu (169–81). After Wheeler, Henning Horstmann (52) also dealt extensively with the primary narrator (“Primärerzähler”). His book is a slightly reworked version of his doctoral dissertation (Göttingen 2013). In the first section (37–133), he identifies the singularity of the Ovidian primary narrator with respect to his epic predecessors (cf. 26–35), and the formal elements that characterise it. Horstmann also investigates the versatility or inconsistency of the main narrator, and claims that true consistency and continuity of an ‘author-narrator’ is only sought at the beginning and end of the poem (39–44); in the rest of the poem, there is only an illusion of an ‘author-narrator’ (45–52). After this, Horstmann analyses the different perspectives, often not omniscient like in traditional epic, that the primary narrator adopts (52–64), and how the primary narrator interferes in free indirect discourse (65–73). Finally, Horstmann studies different linguistic elements (e.g. words or sentences that imply an opinion or scepticism, rhetorical questions, similes, apostrophes) that somehow reveal to the reader the presence of the primary narrator and possible dissonances between author and narrator (74–133). In the long second section (135–324), Horstmann examines the varying attitudes that the primary narrator can assume in different episodes as a means for the author to convey meaning. These attitudes are organized into five categories (ranging from complete respect or even admiration, to harsh critique). To end this section I shall address two works about the reception of theatre in Ovid’s poetic corpus, but which also explore elements of Ovid’s narrative technique. Originating in his doctoral dissertation (Washington 1999), Dan Curley’s book (48) surveys tragic characters and motifs in the Heroides and the met., but, since it relies heavily on intertextuality, it also looks into the style and narrative techniques of the met. In chapter one (1–18), Curley emphasizes the visual aspect of many tales and suggests that the poem can be read as a “series of spectacles, especially where supernatural change and violence are concerned” (3), as an adaptation of tragic themes, plots and characters into epic, but retaining much of their theatrical nature (17, 218). Later, in chapter 4, he studies the episodes of Hecabe (101–15), Hercules (115–21) and Medea (121–32) as illustrative examples of the adaptation of temporal and spatial aspects from the original σκηνή into epic. In chapter 5, he studies the monologues of these very same characters as rhetorical adaptations of their previous tragic portrayals (Medea 141–53, Hecabe 153–61, Hercules 161–76). Chapter 7 (177–216) deals with “tragic intratextuality” or “tragic contaminatio”, i. e. the translation of tragic aspects from one character to another thematically related one, and the allusions that the poet establishes between them (“intratextual footnotes”). See also on ‘V.3 Literary Genres’. Rudolf Henneböhl (39) conceives the met. as a “großes Bühnenstück” with more than 250 pieces (56–7) and tries to illustrate Ovid’s “szenische Erzähltechnik” through a number of short examples (57–60). Some analogies are certainly com­pel­­

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ling, especially with cinema or TV, but often they are just too abstract or naive (e.g. the idea that the definition of characters can be explained in terms of “Rollenkonformität und Rollenkonflikt” 59, the comparison between long speeches in the poem with dramatic monologues 60, etc.). Some ideas for teaching are provided (60–4). Narrative functions of specific elements Michael von Albrecht (1) studies the narrative role of similes, especially according to their position within the episode. This is an excellent article, useful for correctly assessing Ovid’s poetic technique and his use of similes. I comment on it in more detail in ‘VI.3 Similes’. Taking up some observations of Viktor Pöschl, Ernst August Schmidt (10) argues that Ovid’s main theme in the met. was mankind (the poem would be like an ‘anthropological encyclopaedia’), while transformation should be understood as ‘poetic explanations of the world’. On the other hand, the combination of a single topic with a large number of stories reflects the joining of traditional and Alexandrian epic. Of course, the main subject is developed in a series of other key topics organized thematically throughout the poem. Lastly, Schmidt analyses the thematic structure of met. 1.5–451 (where, according to Schmidt, Ovid was interested in portraying a ‘theological anthropology’), namely the episodes of Apollo and Daphne, Actaeon and Semele. Franz Bömer’s paper (30) was originally delivered in 1992 at the University Erlangen-Nürnberg and was prepared for publication by Ulrich Schmitzer. Bömer discusses several examples of illogical or inconsistent elements in Ovidian narrative, and shows how these elements could be retained by “dramaturgische Notwendigkeit” (3–5) or by the force of poetic tradition (5–11). Bömer also points out that a tendency to exaggeratio (11–12, 17–18) or to the grotesque (12–14, 20) is typically Ovidian. He further notes that Ovid was fond of inserting elegiac moments (14–16, 17). All this shows Ovid’s virtuoso “Lust zu fabulieren” (16–20) and his unique poetic talent (20–23). Netta Ruth Berlin’s dissertation (16) studies how Roman poets consciously exploited the tradition of understanding dreams as foreshadowings, but also as elements, like oracles and other divine interventions, that propel the action and emphasise the poet’s narrative strategies. Therefore, dreams also become tools for interpretation (especially when enhanced by similes). Berlin shows this through close readings of the dreams of Dido in the Aen., Alcyone in met. 11 (59–135) and Pompey in Lucan. According to Berlin, in Alcyone’s episode, the combination of the apparition of Ceyx and the personified figure of Somnus delivers a nuanced message that enlightens the events in the story, but also the poet’s craft. Hans Bernsdorff (29) tries to show that, like most ekphraseis, the description of the Regia Solis in met. 2.1–18, namely Vulcan’s carving, is not decorative, but even more closely related to Phaethon’s story than had previously been acknowledged (most of the chapter consists in a discussion of previous work on the ekphrasis). It works, for instance, as a “Gegenbild” of the chaos that Phaethon will originate (21–3),

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but also as a materialization of the epic motive of a young hero in search of his father (28–30). Marco Fucecchi (38) examines the narrative function of metamorphosis in Ovid and Virgil. He shows that Apuleius’ Lucius (met. 2.1.1–5) and Ovid’s Pythagoras (met. 15.259–420) are ready to encounter the marvellous, to accept any transformation under any circumstances. In short, miracula are at the centre of their horizon of expectations and, by extension, at that of the readers (213–18). On the other hand, transformations in the Aeneid show up unexpectedly, both for the characters and the audience, because they usually violate literary expectations, as ancient commentators had already observed (219–23). In the met., when a victim of metamorphosis reveals her former identity (Io, Cyane, Dryope), Ovid explores how the marvellous communicates and expresses itself, or how it fails to do so. This provides an opportunity to underscore the pathos of the story, and it is also often used to disorientate the expectations of internal and external audiences alike, and to enrich traditional material (224–30). Christine Schmitz (51) uses the motif of the declaration of love or wooing, which often occurs at crucial moments of the stories, to illustrate Ovid’s art of narrative variation. She shows that Apollo’s love declaration to Daphne works as the model of many others (Jupiter-Io, Pan-Syrinx, Polyphemus-Galatea, Proserpina’s abduction a contrario, Vertumnus-Pomona, among others: 148–56). Schmitz also analyses Narcissus’ declaration to himself (157–8), the confessions of incestuous love by Myrrha and Byblis (158–63) and the effects of love declarations in amorous triangles (GalateaAcis-Polyphemus, Glaucus-Scylla-Circe, Picus-Canens-Circe: 163–4). Finally, Schmitz points out that, for the few happy couples in the poem, the declaration of love is usually unnecessary, or else is simply not developed (Philemon-Baucis, Iphis-Ianthe and, to some extent, Ceyx-Alcyone: 165–6). Figurative language Shelley Kaufhold’s thesis (15) examines the relationship between metamorphosis and metaphors, similes and figurative language in general. She argues that all figurative language is “relevant and intrinsic, rather than merely decorative and expendable” and that it also reflects “the Ovidian philosophy of change” (15). In the second chapter (25–72), Kaufhold suggests that figurative language in a certain episode, especially “figurative names” (e.g. Myrrha / murra)  and similes, often create the impression that the final transformation is appropriate. The third chapter (73–115) looks into the episodes in which figurative language and metamorphosis are discordant. Transformations by divine pity are usually sustained by figurative language, while a non-integrated metamorphosis symbolises a punishment, often by a wrathful god (104). Chapter 4 (116–70) studies how figurative language seems to affect the events of  a story. Ovidian metaphors create and reveal things, beings and situations, so there can be some confusion between literal and figurative meaning. The last chapter (171–211) and the epilogue (212–14) explore examples in which metamorphoses capture the plenitude of figurative language and the implications thereof for Ovidian

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poetics. Three appendices conclude the thesis, the last of which comments on “some problematic metamorphoses” (225–30). Gianpiero Rosati (21) analyses the actions of spinning and weaving as metaphors for poetic composition, and observes how Ovid mixes the literal and figurative meaning of the metaphor in the Minyeids (143–9) and Arachne (149–51) episodes. According to Rosati, in the first story Ovid revitalizes and illustrates what used to be a ‘dead metaphor’ (147–9), while in the latter, Arachne illustrates the metaphor deducere carmen as designating the tenue, λεπτόν, characteristic of Alexandrian aesthetics. Chapter 7 of Philip Hardie’s book (33) surveys the linguistics means that allow the creation or evocation of “illusions of presence” (see on ‘II. Reference Works’). In the world of continuous metamorphosis, figurative language, like metaphor, often blurs the limits between literal and figurative meanings. Thus, in Lycaon’s tale, “the metaphor ‘man is a wolf ’ becomes the occasion for a story about a savage man whose figurative wolflikeness finally turns him into a wolf ” (229). In a similar way, syllepsis, a characteristic Ovidian stylistic device, often fuses literal and figurative sense, the conceptual and the physical (230–31). Likewise, the personification of abstractions allows their essence to lie on the surface, as does the result of metamorphosis (231–8). Also, in some cases, there is a link between words, objects and bodies (239–49; see, e.g., Meleager’s log), while in many episodes “bodies change, names remain” (245). Hardie also comments on the implications of names shared by more than one character (249–51), of repeated names as a sign of alienation (251–4), and on the play with the name Caesar (254–5). 2. Images 1.  M. Lausberg, “Ἀρχέτυπον τῆς ἰδίας ποιήσεως. Zur Bildbeschreibung bei Ovid”, Boreas 5, 1982, 112–23. 2. J.  A. Rosner-Siegel, “Amor, metamorphosis, and magic. Ovid’s Medea (Met. ­7.1–424)”, CJ 77, 1982, 231–43. 3.  G. Davis, The Death of Procris. Amor and the Hunt in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Roma 1983. Reviews: H. Le Bonniec, REL 62, 1984, 487; W. Derouau, LEC 53, 1985, 485; F. Robertson, G&R 32, 1985, 87–8; J.-P. Néraudau, RPh 60, 1986, 154–5. 4.  E. N. Genovese, “Serpent Leitmotif in the Metamorphoses”, in C. Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History III, Bruxelles 1983, 141–55. 5.  G. A. Jacobsen, “Apollo and Tereus. Parallel motifs in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, CJ 80, 1984, 45–52. 6.  C. E. Newlands, The Transformation of the locus amoenus in Roman Poetry, Diss. University of California, Berkeley 1984. 7.  *B. T. Anderson, The grotesque in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Ph. D. Thesis, Iowa 1986.

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8.  K. Kubusch, Aurea saecula. Mythos und Geschichte. Untersuchung eines Motivs in der antiken Literatur bis Ovid, Frankfurt am Main 1986. Recommended reviews: J. den Boeft, Mnemosyne 43, 1990, 496–7; R.  Häußler, Gnomon 69, 1997, 211–25. Other reviews: K. Bartol, Eos 76, 1988, 365–9; P. Hamblenne, LEC 56, 1988, 315; P. Tordeur, AC 57, 1988, 379–80. 9.  R. Brown, “The Palace of the Sun in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in M. Whitby, P. Hardie, M. Withby (eds.), Homo viator. Classical Essays for John Bramble, Bristol 1987, 211–20. 10.  R. Pierini, “Il concilio degli dei tra Lucilio e Ovidio”, A&R 32, 1987, 137–47. 11.  J. Fabre, “La chasse amoureuse: A propos de l’épisode de Céphale et Procris (Met. VII, 690–862)”, REL 66, 1988, 122–38. 12.  J. M. Frécaut, “La part du grotesque dans quelques épisodes des Métamorphoses d’Ovide”, in D. Porte, J.-P. Néraudau (eds.), Res sacrae. Hommages à Henri Le Bonniec, Bruxelles 1988, 198–214. 13.  G. Laguna Mariscal, “Dos imágenes matrimoniales en el episodio de Dafne y Apolo (Ov. Met. I 452–567): Sex crines y las teas de la flamma amoris”, Anuario de estudios filológicos 12, 1989, 133–43. 14.  W. McCarty, “The shape of the mirror. Metaphorical catoptrics in classical literature”, Arethusa 22, 1989, 161–95. 15.  G. Huber-Rebenich, “Beobachtungen zur Feuermetaphorik im sermo amatorius in Ovids Metamorphosen”, RhM 137, 1994, 127–40. 16.  R. M. Gentilcore, “The landscape of desire: the tale of Pomona and Vertumnus in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Phoenix 49, 1995, 110–20. 17.  M. Ruiz Sánchez, “Figuras del deseo: arte de la variación en Marcial y en Ovidio”, CFC(L) 14, 1998, 93–113. 18.  L. Graverini, “Sulle ali del vento: evoluzione di un’immagine tra Ovidio ed Apuleio”, Prometheus 25, 1999, 243–6. 19. P. Hardie, “Metamorphosis, Metaphor, and Allegory in Latin Epic”, in M. Beissinger, J. Tylus, S. Lindgren Wofford (eds.), Epic Traditions in the Contem­ porary World: The Poetics of Community, Berkeley 1999, 89–107. 20.  A. Laird, “Allegories of Representation: Messengers and Angels”, in Powers of Expression, Expressions of Power. Speech Presentation and Latin Literature, Oxford 1999, 259–305. 21.  P. Hardie, “Narcissus. The mirror of the text”, in Ovid’s Poetics of Illusion, Cambridge 2002, 143–72. 22.  H. Cancik, “Spiegel der Erkenntnis. Zu Ovid, Metamorphosen III 339–510”, in R. Faber, B. von Reibnitz (eds.), Verse und Sachen. Kulturwissenschaftliche Inter­ pretationen römischer Dichtung, Würzburg 2003, 101–2 (= AU 10, 1967, 42–53). 23.  R. Moreno Soldevila, “Water, Desire, and the Elusive Nature of Martial IV 22”, ExClass 7, 2003, 149–63.

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24.  S. Papaioannou, “Ut non [forma] cygnorum, sic albis proxima cygnis: poetology, epic definition, and swan imagery in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Phoenix 58, 2004, 49–61. 25.  I. Männlein-Robert, “Echo und Narziss in den Metamorphoses Ovids – Hellenistische Medienästhetik in Rom (ein Ausblick)”, in  Stimme, Schrift und Bild, Heidelberg 2007, 320–32. 26.  D. Lowe, “Personification allegory in the Aeneid and Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Mnemosyne 61, 2008, 414–35. 27. I. Jouteur, “Hybrides ovidiens au service de l’imagination créatrice”, in H. Casanova-Robin (ed.), Ovide, figures de l’ hybride: illustrations littéraires et figurées de l’esthétiques ovidienne à travers les âges, Paris 2009, 43–58 (Colloques, congrès et conférences sur la Renaissance 64). 28.  A. M. Keith, “The Lay of the Land in Ovid’s Perseid (Met. 4.610–5.249)”, CW 102, 2009, 259–72. 29. S. Laigneau-Fontaine, “Jupiter, figure d’Ovide dans l’épisode de Sémélé (Mét., III, 253–315)?”, in H. Casanova-Robin (ed.), Ovide, figures de l’ hybride: illustrations littéraires et figurées de l’esthétiques ovidienne à travers les âges, Paris 2009, 267–78 (Colloques, congrès et conférences sur la Renaissance 64). 30.  H. Vial, “Comparaisons, metaphors et images théâtrales chez Ovide: la complexité générique portée sur la scène poétique”, in I. Jouteur (ed.), La théâtralité de l’œuvre ovidienne, Paris 2009, 249–64. 31.  J. Brasil Fontes, “Bella gerunt uenti: o sítio de Troia em Metamorfoses XI, 410–748”, Phaos 10, 2010, 5–43. 32. A. Hunt, “Elegiac grafting in Pomona’s orchard: Ovid, Metamorphoses 14.623–771”, MD 65, 2010, 43–58. 33.  R. B. Patrick, Groves in Ovid’s Metamorphoses: domesticity, wildness and transformation, Ph. D. Dissertation, Gainesville 2010. 34.  J. Fabre-Serris, “L’histoire de Méléagre vue par Ovide ou De quoi le tison des Parques est-il l’emblème?”, EL 3–4, 2011, 149–65. 35.  S. Stucchi, “Da pietra a carne, da carne a pietra: riflessioni dalle Metamorfosi ovidiane”, Latomus 71, 2012, 87–101. 36.  R. Henneböhl, “Adpositis queritur ieiunia mensis: Erysichthon als Beispiel existenzieller Darstellung bei Ovid”, AU 56, 2013, 52–8. Images sensu stricto Luca Graverini (18) describes how the image of Europa riding the bull with her dress billowing in the wind became a common one from Mosch. 2.129–30 (243) onwards. In Latin literature, the image was largely popularised by Ovid with his narrations of the rape of Europa (met. 2.833–75; fast. 5.603–18), but he also expanded it to

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other myths and situations (243–4). Graverini comments on (244–6) the evolution of the image, and Apuleius’ use of Ovidian phraseology in two passages of his work (met. 10.31.2, 4.35.4). Within an article that examines myths linked to petrification, and the inverse process whereby a stone is changed into a human (see also on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’), Silvia Stucchi (35) makes some observations about the visual part of these transformations. She points out that in Ovid the stones thrown by Deucalion and Pyrrha in order to repopulate the earth assume human form, as if they had been moulded by a sculptor (89). Similarly, the author notes that the deaths of Niobe’s sons could be considered short ἐκφράσεις with sculptural and highly plastic images (91). Images sensu latiore. General considerations Philip Hardie (19) tries to identify the relationship between metaphor, personification, allegory and metamorphosis. He claims that Ovid plays with the literal and figurative meanings of the transformations (e.g. Lycaon is, in fact, already a wolf before his metamorphosis); ultimately, according to Hardie, this results in the essence of man being perceived as indefinite and unstable (esp. 89–95). Lastly, changing perspective, Hardie attempts to reinterpret the Homeric and Virgilian epic codes, claiming that the epic hero cannot be seen as the embodiment of perfect humanity (esp. 95–100). Images with metapoetic value Marion Lausberg (1) interprets the tapestries of Minerva and Arachne (met. 6.70–128) not only as portrayals of the two weavers (112), but also as symbols of two poetic ideals. She interprets Minerva’s tapestry as  a metaphor for classicism in Augustan poetry, while Arachne’s work represents the opposition to this classicism, as well as the Hellenistic taste for short pieces. The met. are therefore a combination of both stances (113–16), in that the two tapestries could be considered an ἀρχέτυπον τῆς ἰδίας ποιήσεως (123). On the other hand, Lausberg points out that the descriptions of these figurative qualities in met. indicate a knowledge of Homer and his scholiastic reception (116–20). According to her (120–2), the descriptions of the Sun’s Palace (2.1–30), Achilles’ shield (13.110, 291–4) and Aeneas’ crater (13.681–701) also match this same idea. Andrew Laird (20) dedicates  a chapter of his book to examining the scenes of divine messengers in various authors and in different periods. He suggests that the messenger motif represents the act of communication and its associated challenges (259–63). Laird devotes some pages to analysing two of Juno’s envoys in met. (11.585–670, 14.829–39). For him, the former example symbolises the nature of epic communication in met.: the impossibility of knowing the truth and portraying it objectively and unequivocally (281–5). The second case, wherein the message is reproduced in exact form, offers a counterpoint to the doubts raised (285–7). See also on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’.

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Sophia Papaioannou (24) focuses on the swan imagery in met. 14.496–509 (which belong to the Diomedes episode). The author attributes  a metapoetic sense to the expression ut non [forma] cygnorum, sic albis proxima cygnis (509) which describes the bird into which the hero’s companions were transformed. As she understands it, the almost-swans symbolically depict Ovid’s role within epic tradition, and reflect the tension between imitation and innovation with regards to previous models, especially Virgil. This interpretation is largely based on swans being traditionally associated with lofty poetry when the image appears in met. (she comments on 2.252–3, 2.369–74, 2.536–9, 5.385–7, 7.371–81, 12.71–167 and 14.429–30), but, above all, her reading is based on the dialogue established between the Ovidian text and the Diomedes episode in the Aeneid (11.243–95). According to Hélène Vial (30), certain Ovidian images could symbolically depict the hybridity of genres and the originality of his compositions (249). Alternatively, they might encapsulate Ovid’s fusion of the poetics of revelation and of creation of illusion, as well as the tension between concealing and revealing the ars (254). Vial asserts that these elements appear, above all, in metaphors and similes using theatrical imagery, which are spread throughout Ovid’s entire oeuvre. In this way, these theatrical images can be understood in a metapoetic sense, as stagings of the Ovidian poetic fabrica. For example, this is the case with the grex metaphor in met. 3.537 (255), the image of the Tyrrhenian pirates transformed into leaping dolphins in met. 3.683–6 (255–6), and the simile in met. 3.111–14 (256–7). See also on ‘VI.3 Similes’. In more far-reaching scope, Irmgard Männlein-Robert (25) interprets the Ovidian merger of Narcissus and Echo and their associated imagery as an aesthetic debate in Hellenistic terms: Echo, representing the poet’s vox, ends up assuming priority over Narcissus, who, as imago, embodies visual arts. Mirroring as self-knowledge The article by Willard McCarty (14) is basically  a somewhat abstract taxonomy of the metaphorical uses of mirroring, starting with different examples in classical literature. McCarty focuses specifically on cases where the mirroring serves to reveal “the beholder’s bodily self ” and thus “conjure a personality, and through it a world” (171; cf. 164–5). The metaphor is classified according to the beholder’s reaction: if the beholder and image match, this may produce a positive union leading towards an ideal (171–3), or a negative result leading towards entrapment (173–82). Alternatively, if the beholder and image are opposed, one of the two is supressed – McCarty calls this “thanatosis” (182–4). Likewise, sexual components are attributed symbolically to different types of mirroring. In terms of Ovid, the myth of Narcissus is not addressed directly, although it is present to some extent throughout the article; on the other hand, the episodes of Hermaphroditus (181), Medusa (182–3) and Actaeon (186–8) are specifically examined. Hubert Cancik (22) focuses specifically on the myth of Narcissus, and on the motif of the mirror as a symbol of self-knowledge, whereby the reflection objectifies the ‘self ’ and transforms it into a separate being (cf. 101–2). According to Cancik, this idea is

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present from the beginning of the episode when Tiresias prophesies that Narcissus will live to a ripe old age si se non noverit (met. 3.348), an expression which can undoubtedly be linked to the Delphic maxim γνῶθι σεαυτόν (106). Moreover, insofar as Narcissus falls in love with himself, the mirror could also symbolise his vanity (106). Similarly, Philip Hardie (21) understands the story of Narcissus as a variation on the motif of the meeting between an innocent youth and  a water nymph (145; cf. 163–5). The episode implies constant examination of the limits of illusion and reality (146–8). Thus, the reflection (imago), both of images and sounds, leads to a delusion of the senses and, consequently, to a distortion of reality (152–63). Ultimately, a moment of clarity inevitably leads to self-destruction (161–2). He notes that the motifs and conventional language of love are literalisated in this episode (160). He also observes that some images of pastoral landscape are included (163–5) and that the whole narrative is influenced by Lucretian imagery (esp. 150–6, 158–60, 162). Love and elegiac imagery Judith Rosner-Siegel (2) studies how two central motifs of met., transformation and amor, bring together the story of Medea (met. 7.1–393), in this case along with the additional motif of magic. In each of the story’s three main episodes (Medea and Jason, Medea and Aeson, Medea and Pelias), a change in the protagonist’s personality is caused by a type of amor (e.g. sexual, filial or amor for evil; cf. 232–3), which is also inappropriate for one reason or another. As the story develops, Medea gradually sheds her human nature and turns into a wicked witch, while “love turns to hate, […] kindness into murder” (243). To explain the meaning of Procris’ death (met. 7.672–865), Gregson Davis (3) points out the existence within the episode of a structural coherence and an internal organised logic, centred around the underlying tension between the motifs of venatio and amor. To better understand this opposition, Davis starts from an analysis of other stories in the carmen perpetuum where this tension can also be observed (Apollo and Daphne 25–42, 44–9; Syrinx 49–50; Arethusa 51–3; Callisto 53–63; Salmacis 63–6; Pomona 66–71; Cyparissus 74–6; Hermaphroditus 76–84; Narcissus 84–97; Adonis 102–11; Meleager 111–21). He finally comments on the Cephalus and Procris tale (125–48). Semiotics provided the main methodological procedures for his investigation (cf. 13–21). Likewise, Jacqueline Fabre (11) analyses the motif of venatio in met., particularly in the Cephalus and Procris episode (7.690–862), which also features the amor and virgo motifs. According to Fabre, venatio is a metaphor for the pursuit of love (128–30). It points out the liking of male characters for female virginity. At the same time, virginity is symbolically equated with untamed nature (123–6, 134). In this way, hunting tends to imply some sort of transgression, and thus becomes an omen of the couple’s misfortune (130–1). Fabre also examines the motif of hunting in the episodes of Actaeon (126–7), Narcissus (128), and Picus and Canens (130). Lastly, she traces the origins of this conception of hunting in Greek myths and in the literary tradition (131–7), and analyses the psychological orientation it takes in Ovid (137–8).

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The article by Roxanne Gentilcore takes a similar line (16). She understands that the imagery pervading the Vertumnus and Pomona episode (met. 14.623–771) is one of the elements that allows us to understand the story as a symbol of “devious means of amatory pursuit” and of the destructive force of love, as opposed to a tale of mutual passion. Among other aspects, she examines the symbolic assimilation of Pomona, the reluctant virgin, with nature that must be subdued by male characters, i. e. Vertumnus. She finally studies the implicit sexual connotations in this imagery (112–15). Gentilcore also understands that Vertumnus’ unsuccessful attempt to persuade Pomona through narrative implies a failure of the elegiac code (116–18). This failure, if necessary, could drive the god to the use of violence. Ailsa Hunt (32) analyses the story of Vertumnus and Pomona (met. 14.623–771) in light of the georgic motif of grafting. Pomona behaves simultaneously like a rustic heroine and an elegiac dura puella. Vertumnus tries to convince Pomona to yield to her romantic desires with arguments presented in georgic terms: specifically, equating elegiac coupling with the goddess’ ability for grafting (43–7). This rationale is conveyed via the exempla of vine and elm (47–9), and Iphis and Anaxarete (49–52). Finally, Hunt suggests that, when Pomona sees the true appearance of the god and succumbs (52–3), the expression mutua vulnera (14.771) represents as much the elegiac couple and marital union as the act of grafting (53–5, 57–8). Staying with the topic of amor, Gabriel Laguna (13) studies two ceremonial motifs of Roman weddings  – nuptial torches and the bride’s ritual hairstyling  – in Latin poetic texts, especially Ovid. On the one hand, the author notes that the terms taedae and faces, as well as referring to marriage by metonymy (134), serve to establish a rhetorical word play with the ‘funeral torches’ (134–5). Likewise, he draws attention to the frequent syllepsis between the literal meaning ‘torch’, and the metaphorical meaning ‘passion, amorous fire’ (135–8, 140). On the other hand, Laguna points out that sometimes the ritual hairstyling – the motif of the sex crines – is also used as metonymy to refer to marriage (138–9). He analyses all these semantic plays in the episode of Apollo and Daphne (met. 1.452–567, esp. 474–87, 490–8) and, more specifically, he studies how Ovid uses them to portray the antithetical attitudes towards love and marriage of the two characters (140–3). Gerlinde Huber-Rebenich (15) attempts to show Ovid’s originality in using the conventional metaphor of fire as ‘love’. In the first part of the article, she points out some resources which Ovid utilises to breathe new life into the fire imagery (129–35). He uses, for instance, callidae iuncturae or plays with the metaphor’s literal meaning. In the second part, Huber-Rebenich tries to show how even the least original use of this metaphor can be regarded as innovative and relevant if it is examined in relation to the context, and the tale as a whole (136–40). As an example, the author analyses the Byblis and Caunus episode (met. 9.450–665), wherein both the heroine’s passion, and the different stages of the story, are described using the metaphor of fire. While G. Tronchet (“La nuit obscure des Amours: la tradition épique et sa traduction élégiaque”, in J. Fabre-Serris, A. Deremetz (eds.), Élégie et épopée dans la poésie ovidienne: Héroïdes et Amours. En hommage à Simone Viarre, Lille 1999, 85–126) showed that the elegiac hero can be understood as a demoted epic hero, Sylvie Laigneau

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(29) attempts to prove that the opposite is also possible: the epic hero can sometimes be presented as  a demeaned, or even failed, elegiac hero. She observes that, in the Semele episode (met. 3.253–314), Ovid takes up and freely modifies various elegiac topics, even parodying them (269–76): the love triangle (269–70), the lena and the puella (271), the servitium amoris (272–3), the paraclausithyron (273) and the fire of love (275). In some ways, Jupiter tries to conform to the elegiac code, but does not interpret the rules of elegy correctly, and eventually fails in his attempt to seduce the woman he loves (276–7). Finally, the author attributes a metaliterary value to Jupiter: similarly to the god, the poet deliberately does not succeed in producing an entirely epic work (276–8). The meticulous yet somewhat unfocused article by Joaquim Brasil Fontes (31) looks at the story of Ceyx and Alcyone (11.410–748) within the context of met. 11. He examines the intertwined network of themes, and of elegiac and epic motifs. I would like to highlight that the epic motif of the storm – a storm causes Ceyx’s death (11.474–572) – is interpreted as a metaphor of a besieged city, which in turn has Hom. Il. 15.617–21 as a model (this interpretation originates in Otis, Ovid as an Epic Poet, Cambridge 19702 , 240–3). I cannot finish this section without mentioning the studies by Ruiz Sánchez (17) and Moreno Soldevila (23), both focused on Mart. 4.22, but with important references to Ovid as a model for the imagery deployed by Martial in this epigram. The article by Marco Ruiz Sánchez (17) studies several variations in Martial on the theme of metamorphosis linked to desire. The analysis of Mart. 4.22 takes into account Ov. met. 4.354–8,  a passage from the Hermaphroditus episode that is the main subtext of Martial’s epigram. Ruiz compares the Ovidian treatment of Hermaphroditus with that of Narcissus, and he observes how some shared motifs are variated. Rosario Moreno Soldevila (23) also examines Mart. 4.22 in light of its Ovidian reminiscences, which come mainly from the episode of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus (met. 4.285–388). Moreno also studies the epigram in relation to the whole book of epigrams. She makes observations on the symbolism of water and desire; in terms of Ovid, she points out that in various mythical stories the combination of water and beauty foreshadows death (152). She also comments on the use of other images, motifs and metaphors in Ovid (152–4) and on Martial’s modifications of them (154–6, 159). Gender imagery Two studies, partly related to the previous section, try to explain how various images in met. can contribute to describing the role of women. Alison Keith (28) explores the development and implications in the context of the Perseid (met. 4.610–5.249) of metaphors linking land and landscape, as fertility symbols, with women. Keith argues that all the stories connected to the Perseid can be understood in light of a double association: on one hand, of women with the landscape; one the other, of the hero with power and control over women and landscape.

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In other words, women remain static as symbols of land, while the hero moves around, exerting control over the women and lands that he encounters. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (34) suggests that Ovid structured the various episodes of Meleager’s life (met. 8.260–546) to show the great importance of the women of his family, up to the point that they completely govern his existence. The charred log presented by the Parcae to the hero’s mother, Althaea, is not only seen as a symbol of the secret domination exerted on him by the women in his family, but also of the connection that binds all men to their female relatives from the cradle to the grave. Landscape: locus amoenus and luci The doctoral thesis of Carole Newlands (6) examines the evolution of the locus amoenus topos in Latin poetry from the end of the first century BC to the sixth century AD. The fourth chapter (76–108) is dedicated to studying the function of this topos in the met. The author tries to show that Ovid drew inspiration from contemporary idyllic gardens and mural depictions (76–8). The analysis of the various loci amoeni in the context of the episodes where they are featured (3.138–252: 95–9; 4.51–166: 79–81; 4.285–388: 82–4; 5.346–571: 85–7; 9.326–93: 92–5; 11.217–65: 87–92) leads Newlands to conclude that Ovid uses the topos to offer a pessimistic view of art’s capacity to maintain peace and order, and impose on violence (99). The author suggests that this could be understood as a challenge to Augustan ideology (101–3). The poet’s own immortal voice is the only element escaping from this negative perspective (103–4). Robert Patrick (33) offers a continuous reading of the met. following the motif of luci, which symbolise the tension between civilisation and the untamed world which Ovid uses to explore human nature. See also in ‘II. Reference Works’. Other thematic imagery Edgar Genovese (4) examines the motif of the serpents and dragons in met. as  a metaphor themed around the idea of the human species’ salvation and continuation (154–5). He analyses various moments in met. (142–55) wherein the motif is especially significant, the most important being the struggle between Apollo and Python (1.438–47), and Asclepius’ arrival in Rome (15.626–744). Genovese states that by maintaining this theme from book 1 all the way through to book 15, Ovid illustrates the regeneration of humanity until its complete fulfilment in Rome (153–5). Garrett Jacobsen (5) analyses the parallel development of various motifs and scenes (46–50) in the myths of Apollo and Daphne (1.452–567) and Tereus-Procne-Philomela (6.424–674). He affirms that the parallel motifs, as well as the different outcomes of the two stories (Daphne avoids violence, Philomela does not), and their place within the entire work  – at the openings of sections focused respectively on gods and human passions  – show the differences between the divine and human conditions: passion can move both gods and humans equally, but only humans end up suffering (50–1).

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Robert Brown (9) examines the description of the regia Solis (met. 2.1–30). On the one hand, Brown supports and completes H. Bartholomé’s theory (Ovid und die antike Kunst, Münster 1935, 17–20, 74–8), which claims that the ἔκφρασις serves to show the Sun as guarantor of the cosmic order against the universal chaos that Phaethon’s frenzied race will cause (211–15). On the other, Brown tries to point out the description’s symbolic value, and the links connecting it to other scenes in the poem: to the world created from chaos (215–17); to the ideas of order and change in met. (217–18); and, taking into account the reliefs on the palace doors, to the artist’s creative will (218–20). Personified allegories Through crossed comparison between Aeneid and Metamorphoses, Dunstan Lowe (26) analyses the extended personified allegories in Augustan epic, and their innovations in relation to previous tradition. In this way the Furiae, Virgil’s Allecto (Aen. 7.323ss.) and Ovid’s Tisiphone (met. 4.464–511) lose their status as supernatural beings, and are gradually turned into abstract concepts, albeit personified (422–4). Moreover, Lowe states that these Furiae serve as a model, both physically and ontologically, for other personifications such as Fama (Aen. 4.173–97) 424–5, Somnus (Aen. 5.838–61) 424–5, Invidia (met. 2.708–832) 425–7, Fames (met. 8.777–878) 427–9, Somnus (met. 11.592–677) 430–3. The grotesque The doctoral thesis of Billie Teresa Anderson (7) focuses on “grotesque imagery” in the met., an aspect which had previously garnered almost entirely negative criticism. She aims to analyse some extreme cases of the grotesque, and to understand why Ovid uses such strong imagery in the fights of Perseus (met. 4.604–5.249) and the battle of the Lapiths and Centaurs (12.210–458). Anderson compares these scenes with others in the Iliad, and concludes that Ovid’s use of grotesque material, such as wounds, is not significantly different. She also points out that the grotesque in Ovid has been censored because of style reasons (e.g., sense of disorder, or alternation between serious and comic elements). According to Anderson, by these very same style reasons, we can argue that Ovid used this imagery deliberately: to illustrate the metamorphic effects of strong emotions on humans. In more general terms, the author understands that the use of grotesque imagery in the met., not only in these scenes, is part of a wider plan within the poem: Ovid’s aim is to demonstrate visually to the audience, through the transformations experienced by the characters, the consequences of emotions. Similarly, Jean-Marc Frécaut (12) analyses some passages in met. which critics have considered ‘grotesque’ in a pejorative sense, and have therefore been assessed negatively (cf. 198–200, 219). Frécaut reconsiders some of these ‘grotesque’ images, and claims that they should not be described this way without careful consideration. Thus he denies the existence of grotesque elements in met. 11.562–7 (200–1), and he reassesses 6.555–60 as an example of grotesque in the primary meaning of the word, where

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fantastical rather than realistic aspects prevail, while the depiction of horror assumes symbolic value (202–8); Frécaut also defends the deeper meaning of the horrific picture in met. 13.561–4 and dismisses its interpretation as a ‘grotesque exaggeration’ (208); he also argues that in the Polyphemus and Galatea episode (13.750–897), parody plays  a larger part than the grotesque in  a negative sense, and claims that, after all, the Cyclops has some “grandeur” (208–17). Lastly, the author comments about other cases (met. 11.146–93, 14.91–100) in which the grotesque is linked to the ridiculous, but also to Ovid’s poetic intentions (217–18); or in which the grotesque can be viewed from an aesthetic, symbolic and psychological perspective (218–19). Perhaps the study by Isabelle Jouteur (27) should also be included in this section. Her article belongs to the first part of a collective volume dedicated to examining the aesthetic and symbolic implications of hybrid or monstrous beings. Jouteur maintains that Ovid applied a change of literary paradigm, humanising beings which until then had been viewed very negatively, and which subsequently became symbols of freedom and creative fruitfulness (cf. am. 3.12.19–44). The hybrid beings in the met., a work itself defined as “un vaste monstrum”, are addressed specifically in 53–5. Other imagery Klaus Kubusch’s (8) book (originally a Ph.D. thesis) studies the representation of the Golden Age in Augustan poetry (when it acquired a whole new significance). It also includes a chapter (9–90) on the myth in Greek poetry and philosophy, as well as in Lucretius and Seneca (epist. 90). The fourth chapter is entirely devoted to Ovid, with specific sections about the myth in his amatory poetry (185–212), fast. (213–24) and met. (225–46), which is obviously focused on lines 1.89–150. After a detailed analysis of the text (226–36), Kubusch studies the significance of the met.’s version of the myth and its relationship with the Principate (236–43). Ovid’s position towards the present, argues Kubusch, was ambivalent and he contested Virgil’s over-optimistic view of the Augustan Era as a new Golden Age (244). Likewise, it seems that Ovid did not conceive the past in an idealistic way either (244–5). Kubusch concludes that for Ovid a return to the Golden Age was altogether impossible (246; cf. met. 15.259–65). After defending the reading vulnus instead of corpus in met. 1.190 (137–40), Rita Pierini (10) analyses the passage in terms of the allusion to Lucilius (140–7). She comments, among other aspects, about the use of medical metaphors applied to  a political situation, and the value of Lupus in Lucilius, and of Lycaon in Ovid, as symbols of humanity’s degeneration. Rudolf Henneböhl (36) departs from the general idea that many stories in the met. can be understood as metaphors for different aspects of human existence (52). He offers a brief didactically-oriented guide of the Erysichthon story (met. 8.738–878), interpreted as an allegory of man’s insatiability and greed. The author also analyses the symbology of Ceres’ tree impiously chopped down by Erysichthon (54), and the significance of the subsequent punishment, which is actually enforced by the very same insatiability that provoked his ungodly behaviour (56).

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3. Similes 1.  M. von Albrecht, “Les comparaisons dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide”, BAGB 1, 1981, 24–34. 2.  C. Newlands, “The simile of the fractured pipe in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 4”, Ramus 15, 1986, 143–53. 3.  J. F. Miller, “Orpheus as owl and stag: Ovid Met. 11.24–27”, Phoenix 44, 1990, 140–7. 4.  U. Schmitzer, “Meeresstille und Wasserrohrbruch. Über Herkunft, Funktion und Nachwirkung der Gleichnisse in Ovids Erzählung von Pyramus und Thisbe (Met. 4,55–166)”, Gymnasium 99, 1992, 519–45. 5.  S. D. Kaufhold, The Reification of Figurative Language in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Diss. Cornell University, Ithaca 1993. 6.  R. Tabacco, “Le similitudini in Ovidio: Rassegna degli studi  e prospetti di ricerca”, BStudLat 26, 1995, 129–71. 7.  J. Heath, “The stupor of Orpheus: Ovid’s Metamorphoses 10.64–71”, CJ 91, 1996, 353–70. 8.  S. D. Kaufhold, “Ovid’s Tereus: fire, birds, and the reification of figurative language”, CPh 92, 1997, 67–71. 9.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovid. 3. Elocutio. Similes in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and their Functions”, in Roman Epic. An Interpretative Introduction, Leiden-Boston-Köln 1999, 166–77. 10.  M. von Albrecht, “Stellung und Funktion der Gleichnisse”, in Das Buch der Verwandlungen. Ovid-Interpretationen, Darmstadt 2000, 168–80 (= “Gleichnisse: Stellung und Funktion”, in M. von Albrecht, Ovids «Metamorphosen»: Texte, Themen, Illustrationen, Heidelberg 2014, 147–56). 11.  N. Pice, La similitudine nel poema epico: Omero, Apollonio Rodio, Virgilio, Ovidio, Lucano, Valerio Flacco, Stazio. Con un saggio di G. Cipriani, Bari 2003. Recommended review: P. A. Zissos, CR 55, 2005, 691. Other reviews: R. Dimundo, Aufidus 18, 2004, 123; F. Ficca, BStudLat 34, 2004, 672–5; M. Guagnano, InvLuc 26, 2004, 348–50; C. Reitz, Gnomon 78, 2006, 725–6; P. Tordeur, AC 75, 2006, 254–5. 12.  P. Hardie, “Approximative similes in Ovid: incest and doubling”, Dictynna 1, 2004, 83–122. 13.  S. Kyriakidis, “Catalogue and Simile in Dissonance”, in Catalogues of Proper Names in Latin Epic Poetry: Lucretius – Virgil – Ovid, Cambridge 2007, 169–71. 14. H. Vial, “Comparaisons, métaphores et images théâtrales: la complexité générique portée sur la scène poétique”, in I. Jouteur (ed.), La théâtralité de l’œuvre ovidienne, Paris 2009, 249–64. 15.  M. L. von Glinski, Likeness and identity. The problem of the simile in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Diss. Princeton 2009.

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16.  J. McNamara, “The frustration of Pentheus: narrative momentum in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 3.511–731”, CQ 60, 2010, 173–93. 17.  M. L. von Glinski, Simile and Identity in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Cambridge 2012. Reviews: B.  Cowan, BMCR 2012.10.20; A.  Barchiesi, CW 107, 2013, 131–2; S. Myers, Religious Studies Review 41, 2015, 69; R. Sarasti-Wilenius, Arctos 50, 2015, 194–5. Review of studies about similes (1861–1994) Raffaella Tabacco (6) considers most studies (cf. 171) published between 1861 and 1994 about similes in Ovid’s poetry. She points out that for most researchers the main goal was to classify the similes by theme, and to identify their literary models (130), without considering their function either within the immediate context, or within the structure of the work. Tabacco notes that this trend began to change from 1964 with Janette Richardson’s study (“The Function of Formal Imagery in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, CJ 59, 1964, 161–9), but the purpose of similes within their context was not considered seriously until Jean-Marc Frécaut’s work (L’esprit et l’ humour chez Ovide, Grenoble 1972, 59–93). Frécaut opened more productive and interesting lines of investigation (cf. 167–8). In this sense, the detailed consideration of the context, and of every possible implication of similes, led some scholars to focus exclusively on individual similes (vid.  ‘Studies of specific similes’). Tabacco suggests that future research should fully analyse all details of the similes of complete works, perhaps starting with the shortest Ovidian poems (167–8, 170–1). It seems that her wish has not yet been fulfilled. Of the articles examined here, Tabacco reviews numbers 1 (164–7), 3 (168–9) and 4 (169–70). The first chapter of Shelley Kaufhold’s (5) thesis also includes a review of Ovidian scholarship on similes (1–14). She comments on a 1976 version of 1 (7–8). General aspects Fitting perfectly within the second trend identified by Tabacco, we should mention the short but important article by Michael von Albrecht (1). Moving away from traditional approaches, he studies the narrative function of the similes in met. in terms of their position within each episode, and how they adhere to or contrast with the narrative context (cf. esp. 32–4). The scholar states that he has examined all the similes in the work, but in his study he only presents those which he considers the most illustrative. According to von Albrecht, a simile at the beginning of a story (met. 1.490–6, 1.200–5) serves to highlight the forces which will drive the action and the author’s conception of the scene. The simile may also guide the reader’s expectations (25–8). In a central position, a simile (met. 6.516–18) can help to animate moments of stillness (28); on the other hand, it can create suspense (met. 1.533–9) prior to decisive action

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(28–9). Towards the end of a story, a simile and its ‘objective’ images (met. 4.121–4) function to reinforce the verisimilitude of the conclusive transformation (30–2). In terms of method, von Albrecht emphasises the importance of considering the similes in their context. They do not necessarily provide the work, as some scholars believed, with epic colour. On the contrary, this ‘archaic’, and paradigmatically epic, resource can have a comic effect if used in a clearly non-epic context (cf. esp. 29–30). Thus von Albrecht shows that Ovid utilises his models, and especially the contrast or consonance between context and comparison, to achieve pathetic or ironic effects, as well as elegant psychological and intellectual nuances. Finally, von Albrecht investigates why Ovidian similes are often shorter than those used by Homer and Virgil (32–4). It should be said that this article is, in fact, a reworking of a previous study (“Zur Funktion der Gleichnisse in Ovids Metamorphosen”, in H. Görgemanns, E. A. Schmidt (eds.), Studien zum antiken Epos, Meisenheim am Glan 1976, 280–90). Subsequently, it has been reused on more than one occasion (9, 10), with  a few minor changes. Shelley Kaufhold (5) also suggests that similes are an especially pertinent resource for enhancing the idea of appropriateness of metamorphosis. See on ‘VI.1 Language and Style’. Nicola Pice’s book (11) is an anthology of similes in ancient epic poetry. The scholar intends to illustrate, for didactic purposes, the evolution and use of this resource. He includes examples from Homer (47–92), Apollonius of Rhodes (93–122), Virgil (23–58), Ovid (159–84), Lucan (185–203), Valerius Flaccus (205–32), and Statius (233–63). The book opens with an essay by Giovanni Cipriano entitled “Il rischio stupendo della similitudine” (9–37), which addresses ancient discussions on similes, particularly on Virgilian ones (above all, Servius’ approach is examined). On the other hand, Pice’s own introduction (39–45) attempts to define similes, their relationship with metaphor, and their poetic function in the light of observations by ancient and modern critics. Then, within the anthology itself, he offers a brief introduction for each author, summarising the essential aspects which characterise their similes. Subsequently he presents the selected similes with an Italian translation and a brief commentary (these notes are generally fairly superficial). In the case of Ovid, Pice points out that similes usually can be seen as hints that help to rightly interpret the poem. Following the path of von Albrecht’s study, he details some of the specific functions which they can fulfil within the story (162). Pice also emphasises that Ovidian similes fit the narrative perfectly (163). The following are the selected similes (165–84): met. 1.490–6, 1.527–39, 2.153–66, 2.319–22, 2.714–29, 3.370–4, 3.480–90, 4.119–24, 4.356–67, 6.61–7, 6.553–60, 7.78–85, 7.125–30, 8.162–8, 8.835–42, 9.266–72, 9.655–65, 10.369–76, 11.73–8, 12.46–55, 12.100–4, 12.271–9, 12.434–8, 12.478–81, 13.800–6, 14.423–32, 14.765–71. Philip Hardie (12) studies a peculiar type of simile in which there is no full correspondence and identification between comparans and comparandum (unlike in the haud aliter formulae). In it, the elements that forbid that correspondence are pointed out, usually by a conditional protasis (e.g. am. 1.7.13–18). Hardie comments extensively on a number of these similes in met. (1.694–9, 4.673–7, 6.451–4, 10.212–13,

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10.515–18), examining aspects of intra- and intertextuality. Likewise, starting from conclusions reached in a previous study (Ovid’s Poetics of Illusion. Cambridge 2002: see on ‘II. Reference works’), Hardie examines how these similes reflect specific main themes of the entire poem, such as the exploration of the limits of identity, or the relationship between art and nature, representation and reality. On a similar note, the monograph by Marie Louise von Glinski (17), a reworking of her doctoral thesis (15), analyses  a broad selection of similes in met. in relation to the concept of metamorphosis and the consequent identity changes. Simile and metamorphosis both modify forms; however the former affects perception of the object without changing it, while the latter implies a physical alteration. Therefore, according to von Glinski, similes are capable of reflecting and exploring ambiguities in the identity of the characters, but also between reality and fiction. Similes thereby are  a crucial element for the interpretation of Ovid’s poem. In the first chapter (“Metamorphosis and simile” 7–44) she examines seven transformations, and explores the limits between human and animal identity. She observes how similes, instead of explaining the process of transformation, in fact create ambivalence between the two natures. The second chapter (“The gods and the simile” 45–82) focuses on the relation between similes and the transitory transformation of the gods, while in the third chapter (“The simile and genre” 83–114) von Glinksi studies the interactions of epic simile with elegy and tragedy. The fourth chapter (“Simile and fictionality” 115–53) examines the relation between simile and fictionality. As expected, the book includes interpretations of specific myths, based on similes (for instance: the myths of Actaeon 15–18, Pentheus 18–21, Orpheus 21–26, Hyacinthus 26–33, Deucalion and Pyrrha 34–7, Lichas 38–40, Adonis 41–4, Icarus 56–62, Ceyx and Alcyone 86–91, Hecuba 91–6, Apollo and Daphne 96–103, Achilles and Cycnus 103–13, Narcissus 116–30, and House of Sleep 132–6). The scholar also comments on other similes which belong to more or less defined groups (e.g. those involving gods and animals 62–70, or which contain anachronisms 141–6). The full list can be found in the index locorum (167–9) and in the general index (170–3). Lastly, I would like to mention the interesting monograph by Stratis Kyriakidis (13) about catalogues of proper names in Latin hexametric poetry. The scholar makes observations regarding the interaction between these catalogues and similes (cf. also 108–22). He examines the case of met. 5.604–9, where simile and catalogue work together to enhance the narrative (169–70). Studies of specific similes Carole Newlands (2) focuses on the controversial simile of the fractured pipe in met. 4.119–24, at the end of the Pyramus and Thisbe story. Rejecting other interpretations (143–4; cf., e.g., the treatment of this simile by von Albrecht, 1, mentioned earlier), the scholar suggests that the simile serves to disrupt the expectations of the reader (145–6); to define the personality of Minyas’ daughters (one of whom acts as internal narrator) and, more specifically, to highlight their rejection of love and their excessive confidence in “practical life” (150). According to Newlands, this actually

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reflects the tension between Minerva and Bacchus, and between technology and nature, within the broad frame of the story of Minyas’ daughters (147–51). Ulrich Schmitzer (4) studies not only the simile of the fractured pipe (521–35), but also the second simile (met. 4.132–6) that appears in the episode of Pyramus and Thisbe (535–8). In both cases, Schmitzer mentions the literary models on which Ovid may have relied (529, 531–2, 537–8), aspects of realia and other technical matters (521–8), etymological plays (532–5), and the implicit symbolism in the similes (538). Similarly, he analyses the important contribution of similes to defining the characters, and to the tone of the episode (538–9). John Miller (3) analyses the double simile in met. 11.24–7, which illustrates how the bacchants approach Orpheus to kill him. In broad strokes, Miller points out that the similes intensify and prepare the death of the musician, reconfiguring the situation at the beginning of the episode. The birds which stalk the owl in the first simile represent an inversion of those which listened, mesmerised, to Orpheus’ song in book 10 (141–4). The second simile invites us to imagine a stag attacked by dogs in the amphitheatre. Thus, our attention is diverted away from the attackers to the victim. In the first simile the musician was presented as a victim, but now he becomes a timid and faint-hearted prey (145–7). In other words, the two similes combined transform Orpheus from a god of the theatre into a victim of the arena. Likewise, John Heath (7) analyses the double simile in met. 10.64–71 and its function within the episode. Heath understands that the first one is intended to point out the failure of Orpheus’ catabasis in comparison to that of Hercules’, who succeeded in bringing Cerberus up from the Underworld (354–64). The second simile shows up Orpheus’s bragging: he suggests that he would be willing to die together with Eurydice (365–6), when he is actually not. Heath concludes that through the double simile Ovid is subtly sabotaging Orpheus (367). Similarly to von Albrecht (1), Shelley D. Kaufhold (8) points out that the similes and figurative language in the Tereus episode (met. 6.423–674) anticipate action which will take place further on in the story. Hélène Vial (14) points out that the similes which feature images from the theatrical stage can be interpreted as self-reflective and metapoetic. First, she comments on the comparison of the Tyrrhenian pirates turned into dolphins which leap out of the sea like a chorus in met. 3.685 (255–6). Then, she discusses the simile in met. 3.111–14, where Ovid compares the warriors born from the dragon’s teeth sewn by Cadmus with the figures represented on the curtain which was raised at the end of a performance (256–8). See also on ‘VI.2 Images’. Joanne McNamara (16) studies the Pentheus episode (met. 3.511–731). She considers that the simile in 3.568–71 not only intensifies and reflects the rising anger of the Theban king (191–2), but that it could also be interpreted as a musing about the free-flowing nature of poetic speech, and about the “obstaculizations” which the many digressions in the Ovidian poem might represent (193).

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4. Rhetoric 1.  M. Hirata, “Alcyone’s propempticon”, in Studies in epic and narrative literature in Greco-Roman and Biblical world, Tokyo 1980, 95–102. 2.  E. Grassi, “The philosophical and rhetorical significance of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Ph&Rh 15, 1982, 257–61. 3.  M. Hirata, ““Totenklage” in Ovid’s Metamorphoses” [Jap.], JCS 30, 1982, 67–77. 4.  L. Lorch, “Human time and the magic of the carmen. Metamorphosis as an element of rhetoric in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Ph&Rh 15, 1982, 262–73. 5.  J. M. Haarberg, “Lycaon’s impious and Ovid’s rhetorical strategy: A note on the Lycaon episode in met. I”, SO 58, 1983, 111–15. 6.  G. Rosati, “Metafora e poetica nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Tar (ed.), Epik durch die Jahrhunderte (Internationale Konferenz Szeged 2–4 Oktober 1997), Szeged 1998, 142–51. 7.  Mª C. Álvarez, R. Mª Iglesias, “Injerencia de Ovidio en algunos relatos de las Metamorfosis”, MD 45, 2000, 83–102. 8.  E. Tola, “El imaginario de las lágrimas y del cuerpo: Tristia y Epistulae ex Ponto o la última metamorfosis de Ovidio”, Argos 24, 2000, 157–83. 9.  N. P. Gross, “Allusion and rhetorical wit in Ovid, Metamorphoses 13”, Scholia 9, 2000, 54–65. 10.  C. Hollenburger-Rusch, Liquitur in lacrimas: zur Verwendung des Tränenmotivs in den Metamorphosen Ovids, Hildesheim-Zürich 2001. Review: K. Herrmann, JRS 93, 2003, 379–80. 11.  A. W. Bishop, The battle scenes in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Ph. D. thesis Austin 2001. 12.  S. Raval, “A lover’s discourse: Byblis in Metamorphoses 9”, Arethusa 34, 2001, 285–311. 13.  I. Jouteur, Jeux de genre dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide, Leuven 2001. Reviews: L. Deschamps, REL 80, 2002, 368–70; P. Salzman-Mitchell, JRS 93, 2003, 377–8; A. Deremetz, Latomus 63, 2004, 470–1. 14.  Mª C. Álvarez, R. Mª Iglesias, “Cruce de géneros en las Metamorfosis: Medea entre la épica y la tragedia”, in A. López, A. Pociña (eds.), Medeas: versiones de un mito desde Grecia hasta hoy, Granada 2002, I, 411–15. 15.  S. Kyriakidis, “The Alban kings in the Metamorphoses: an Ovidian catalogue and its historiographical models”, in D. S. Levene, D. Nelis (eds.), Clio and the poets: Augustan poetry and the traditions of ancient historiography, Leiden 2002, 211–29. 16.  A. R. Sharrock, “An a-Musing tale: gender, genre and Ovid’s battles with inspiration in the Metamorphoses”, in E.  Spentzou, D. P. Fowler (eds.), Cultivating the Muse: Power, Desire, and Inspiration in the Ancient World, Oxford 2002, 202–27.

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17.  E. Woytek, “Ein ovidischer Bacchushymnus (Ovid, Metamorphosen 4.11–31)”, WHB 45, 2003, 66–79. 18.  Y. Syed, “Ovid’s use of the hymnic genre in the Metamorphoses”, in A. Barchiesi, J.  Rüpke, S. Stephens (eds.), Rituals in ink: A Conference on Religion and Literary Production in Ancient Rome, Stuttgart 2004, 99–113. 19.  H. Vial, “Ni tout à fait la même, ni tout à fait une autre: une approche de la métamorphose ovidienne”, BAGB 2004 ,142–55. 20.  M. von Albrecht, “Viaggi nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, Latina didaxis 19, 2004, 99–109. 21.  P. Hardie, “Approximative similes in Ovid: incest and doubling”, Dictynna 1, 2004, 83–122. 22.  A. Suter, “The myth of Prokne and Philomela”, NECJ 31, 2004, 377–86. 23.  H. Vial, “Frontières en métamorphose: le prologue et l’épilogue des Métamorphoses d’Ovide”, in B. Bureau, C. Nicolas (eds.), Commencer et finir. Débuts et fins dans les littératures grecque, latine et néolatine, Paris 2008, II, 393–410. 24.  L. Braun, “Epische Kampfszenen in Ovids Metamorphosen”, WJA 33, 2009, 85–103. 25.  A. Videau, “Rhétorique et poétique de la dualité dans les poèmes ovidiens”, in H. Casanova-Robin (ed.), Ovide, figures de l’ hybride. Illustrations littéraires et figurées de l’esthétique ovidienne à travers les âges, Paris 2009, 197–209 (Colloques, congrès et conférences sur la Renaissance 64). 26.  J. C. Fernández Corte, “De la figura a la ficción: metamorfosis y metalepsis”, in J. F. González, Jesús de la Villa Polo (eds.), XII Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos, Madrid 2010, II, 913–20. 27. E. Tola, “Quid facundia posset / Re patuit (Ou., Met. XIII 382–383): las estrategias oratorias de Ulises en el armorum iudicium ovidiano”, Emerita 78, 2010, 299–318. 28.  E. Tola, “Las tramas del texto en Ovidio, Metamorfosis, 6.424–674”, Circe 14, 2010, 159–74. 29.  E. Andreoni Fontecedro, “Incrocio di percorsi narrativi: Ovidio e il mito di Alcione (met. 11.382–748): le tracce che sopravvivono”, Aufidus 25, 2011, 7–20. 30.  R. W. Cowan, “Passing over Cephisos’ grandson: literal praeteritio and the rhetoric of obscurity in Ovid Met. 7.350–93”, Ramus 40, 2011, 146–67. 31.  M. L. von Glinski, Simile and identity in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Cambridge-​ New York 2012. 32.  D. López-Cañete Quiles, “El ingenio de Ovidio”, Myrtia 27, 2012, 111–46. 33.  H. Bernsdorff, “Die Kunst, sein Publikum einzuschläfern: Erzähltechnik und Mythenallegorese in Merkurs Geschichte von Pan und Syrinx (Ov. Met. 1.689–712)”, Gymnasium 120, 2013, 535–47.

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34.  B. Dufallo, The captor’s image: Greek culture in Roman ecphrasis, Oxford-New York 2013. Reviews: J. Elsner BMCR 2013.04.48; R. Höschele, Sehepunkte 14.9, 2014, sine pag.; V. E. Pagán, Phoenix 68, 2014, 189–91; D. Rijser, Mnemosyne 68, 2015, 860–4; H. Lovatt, Mouseion 13, 2016, 177–80. 35. C. Reitz, “Describing the invisible: Ovid’s Rome”, Hermes 141, 2013, 283–93. 36.  G. Mader, “Name Game, Blame Game: Rhetoric and Identity Management in Ovid’s Myrrha Episode (Met. X, 298–502)”, in C. Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History XVI, Bruxelles 2012, 313–38. The contributions regarding the rhetorical perspective of the Metamorphoses can be classified on the basis of their object of research. Some of them analyse particular episodes (1), (2), (4), (5), (6), (9), (11), (12), (15), (16), (22), (24), (26), (27), (28) (33) (36), or the representation of certain characters (14) (25); others, the use of specific topoi, such as weeping (8), (10), travelling (19), mourning (3); while others study the use and function of rhetorical devices (7) (19) (30) (31) (34) (35), or the recourse to specific poetic and narrative style marks (13), (17), (18), (21), (23), (32). Hirata (1) examines Alcyone’s speech to Ceyx (book 11), where he identifies the typical features of propemptikon, with a touch of tragic prophecy. In his contribution of 1982 (3), the author studies several funeral laments: those of Apollo after the death of Hyacinthus (met. 10.196–208), Venus’ for Adonis (met. 10.724–31), Aesacus’ for Hesperus (met. 11.778–82), and Hecuba’s for Polyxena (met. 13.494–532). These speeches contain many topoi of the Totenklage (funeral lament), and display Ovid’s rhetorical technique. Most notably, Hecuba’s speech is the longest of all (39 ll.), and echoes the lament of Euryalus’ mother in Aeneid 9, thereby adhering to the epic tradition. Hecuba grieves endlessly for her dead daughter Polyxena, and regrets her own misfortune: this speech seems to be different to Ovid’s other funeral laments, because it does not function as the introduction to a metamorphosis. The reading-key is in the use of the word superest (met. 13.494 and 527). At l. 494 Hecuba believes she has nothing left, yet at l. 527 she meets her most beloved son Polydorus, whom she thinks is still alive. This instils in her a new desire to live, and thus she finishes her lament immediately. But in fact Polydorus has already been killed, and when Hecuba realises this fact, she cannot bear her grief any longer: Hecuba avenges her son and is transformed into a female dog. In this way, her speech functions as the introduction to a metamorphosis. The paper by Lorch (4) is devoted to the analysis of the Daphne myth in book 1, and to the philosophical problem of mutability in book 15. The study is preceded, as an introduction, by Grassi’s paper (2): “The nomen towards which tends each being in process of metamorphosis is the result of a definition, of the extraction of the essence of a Being from a world in constant change” (4, 262–3). Daphne’s metamorphosis represents “the degré zéro … the myth of the genesis of the symbol, and of  a very important symbol: that of poetry” (266).

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The study by Haarberg (5) analyses and scrutinises the rhetorical aspects of the Lycaon episode in the first book of the carmen perpetuum, the first metamorphosis described in the poem. In his contribution, focused on the Minyeides episode, Rosati (6) highlights Ovid’s merit in having been able to “rivitalizzare quella che ormai è metafora morta, illustrarla  e metterla in scena”. For this scholar, “le metamorfosi sono a loro modo una storia del mondo, e anche della civilizzazione, e quindi contengono una serie di “miti di fondazione” non solo della realtà, ma anche del linguaggio, del linguaggio figurato” (149). Álvarez and Iglesias (7) classify and analyse the different types of apostrophe in met. and their function, which may be either in order to enhance the pathos of the episode, to strengthen the cohesiveness between the different events, or to avoid monotony. The same scholars devote a paper to the representation of the Medea figure in met., halfway between epic and tragedy (14). The work by Hollenburger-Rusch (10) is devoted to the motif of weeping in met., while Tola (8) analyses the reference to tears as a distinctive element, mainly in Tristia, of the altered living situation of Ovid relegatus. In his contribution, Gross (9) examines Ulysses’ speech in book 13 and draws attention to its prolixity: according to the author, Ovid is creating a sort of parody of Ulysses’ character and of rhetoric in general. Tola (27) also analyses this same speech and identifies the syntactical, metrical, and stylistic strategies which convert the Greek hero into a flawless Roman orator, capable of composing a speech using the genus iudiciale. An analysis of the battle scenes in met. is provided by Bishop’s Ph. D. thesis (11). The work focuses on the fights between Perseus and Phineus (met. 5.1–235), and between Lapiths and Centaurs (met. 12.210–535), starting from the Homeric and Virgilian models. These same battle scenes are examined by Braun (24), who notes in them a basic trait of the poem’s epic content, even though both fights end with metamorphoses. Raval’s paper (12) analyses the Byblis episode (met. 9.468–665). She highlights the elegiac features of this love story, but also the presence of stylistic features of Heroides and Ars amatoria: Ovid’s erotic experience manages to go beyond the boundaries of genre. Jouteur’s book (13) also focuses on the limits of genre in our poem. She makes a thorough study of its structural, thematic and stylistic characteristics, which can be linked to pastoral poetry, and to hymn, epic, tragedy and elegy. Kyriakidis (15) analyses the catalogue of the Alban kings (met. 14.609–23), and its likely models (Liv. 1.3.6–10; Verg., Aen. 6.756–76; Dion. Hal. 1.71; Diod. Sic. 7.5.9–10). Sharrock (16) deals with poetic inspiration in met.: the relationship between the poet and muse is read as an erotic one; the paradigmatic episode is the embrace of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus (met. 4.285 ff.). Woytek (17) studies the hymn to Bacchus (met. 4.11–31) and considers “einzelnen Strukturelemente dieses Hymnus per se durchaus als typisch und traditionell, und doch ist deren Inhalt und auch besonders deren formale Gestaltung im höchsten Maße individuell” (68), yet keeping its compositional congruence. The presence of the hymn genre in met. is studied by Syed (18), who concludes that Ovid not only imitates the Homeric Hymns,

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but he also combines the features of hymn with those of encomium, following in the path of Callimachus. Vial (19) examines Ovid’s skilful use of variatio, capable of reproducing through language the characteristic mutability of the world. The use of this rhetorical device proves to be particularly important in the description of the moment of metamorphosis. These same moments are the focus of von Glinski’s study (31), where special attention is paid to the use of similes; they are capable of evoking the persistently indefinite nature of those creatures that have passed from a human or divine state to that of an animal or vegetable. Vial (23) presents another contribution on the concept of poetry as revealing the ‘fragility’ of boundaries. Both the initial and final verses of met. are affected by a sense of the indefinite; the poem goes beyond the conventional generic limits of epos and is open, according to Ovidian poetics, to new experiments. Von Albrecht (20) studies the topic of travelling in this poem: he distinguishes land, sea, air, and heavenly voyages, and analyses their function in the compositional structure of the work. Hardie (21) focuses on topics such as incest and narcissism, and, on the textual level, the procedures of imitatio / aemulatio in the poem. Suter (22) analyses the myth of Procne and Philomela (met. 6.424–674) vis-à-vis their antecedents (Hom., Od. 19.518–24; Hes., op. 568–70 and fr. 312; Sappho fr. 135; a late 7th to early 6th-c. metope from a temple at Thermon in Aetolia, LIMC VI.1.527 no. 1; and several cups including LIMC VII.1.527 nos. 3 and 4), which depict not virile brutality, but the complicity of every woman in fighting against the man (Tereus)’s control over the lives of both these women. On the same episode, Tola (28) explores the narrative process that culminates in the metamorphoses of the characters. Fernández Corte (26) deals with Ovid’s exclusive invention of the god ‘Morpheus’ (from the Greek morphè): the rhetorical expedient of metaphor is represented by an imaginary being, Sleep. This creature is capable of imitating all forms, thus becoming a sort of alter ego of the poet, who is able to multiply the levels of reality. Andreoni Fontecedro (29) reveals a clear plot of narrative itineraries in the myth of Alcyone. In fact, she detects therein the topos of the abandoned woman, the myth of Isis, and the tales of the tempest and the cave of Somnus. The article by Cowan (30) analyses the device of rhetoric praeteritio in met. 7.350–93: after deceiving Pelia’s daughters, Medea flies with her chariot from Thessaly to Corinth, following a circular route and soaring over a landscape rich in myths, many of which remain untold and full of mystery. The contribution by López-Cañete (32) deals with Ovid’s ingenium vis-à-vis his rhetorical and poetic models, as well as possible parallels with Horace’s epistles. The article by Bernsdorff (33) examines Mercury’s speech in met. 1.689–712, scrutinising its narrative technique and highlighting the allegorical nature of the god’s figure. Dufallo (34) focuses on the use of ecphrasis in the poem. He views it as a privileged position from which to compare, through the subtle game made by imitatio / aemulatio, Roman and Greek cultures (see chapter 5). Reitz (35) observes the rhetorical device of ἐνάργεια / evidentia as applied, in particular, to the descriptions of Rome. However, these descriptions are not as vivid

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in the exile works, being filtered through the exiled poet’s memory or through the reports that Ovid receives from far away, and are thus not based on direct experience. Mader’s contribution (36) is devoted to Myrrha’s episode (met. 10.298–502), and consists of an analysis of its rhetorical devices. The chapter by Videau (25) addresses the duality of rhetoric and poetic in Ovid’s poems. 5. Word Order 1.  M. Labate, “Et amarunt me quoque nymphae (Ov. Met. 3, 456)”, MD 10/11, 1983, 305–18. 2.  D. Lateiner, “Mimetic Syntax: Metaphor from Word Order, especially in Ovid”, AJPh 111, 1990, 204–37. 3.  J. N. Adams, “Nominative Personal Pronouns and some Patterns of Speech in Republican and Augustan Poetry”, in J. N. Adams, R. G. Mayer (eds.), Aspects of the Language of Latin Poetry, Oxford-New York 1999, 97–133. 4. D. Lateiner, “Poetic doubling effects in Ovid’s «Ceyx and Alcyone» (Met. XI)”, in D. Lateiner, B. K. Gold, J. Perkins (eds.), Roman Literature, Gender, and Reception: Domina Illustris, London-New York 2013, 53–73 (Routledge Monographs in Classical Studies 13).

Donald Lateiner (2) tries to examine the parallelism between sense and syntax in the word order of Latin poetry, and especially in Ovid. Lateiner believes that on some occasions “Ovid orders words in one or more verses to make them imitate an aspect of the event that they narrate” (204). The third and most extensive part of the article (209–35) consists of a catalogue listing a number of those effects in Ovid, organised into different sections. Most of the examples come from am. and met. 6, 8, 10. Some of them are at least intriguing, while others are clearly more forced. In many cases, the examples present normal stylistic features which are used in numerous other contexts, where mimetic syntax is not identified (for example, in 234, the “geographic syntax” of am. 1.15.29 could easily be questioned in the light of fast. 1.140). In other examples, a wider consideration of the stylistic context in which the supposed imitative effects appear is lacking. Subsequently, Lateiner (4) dedicated part of an article on the Ceyx and Alcyone story (met. 11.410–748) to examining the effects of imitative syntax in this episode, and identified six different types of the phenomenon (59–61). On the other hand, James Adams (3) analyses the use and collocation of the nominative personal pronouns ego and tu in Catullus and in the Augustan poets. He claims that these pronouns are often not ‘emphatic’ or ‘contrastive’ (in this case, they are usually placed at the beginning of a colon), but that they take second place after a focused or ‘preferential’ term (generally, a verb, a relative pronoun, a demonstrative or an interrogative)  to make it stand out. He asserts that this type of collocation

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originated in educated speech. Catullus is clearly more close to the usages of Cicero and prose in general, but the Augustan poets show greater diversity. Ovid (126, 128–9, 130–2) developed the structure by displacing the focused term + ego / tu from the initial position. Adams also addresses the disjunction of the initial qui / hic from its substantive by the insertion of ego. In terms of  a specific passage, Mario Labate (1) discusses whether quoque in met. 3.456 should be taken as postponed, and referring to, me in the sense of “anche”; or, on the contrary, preceding and referring to nymphae in the sense of “perfino”. See on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’. 6. Etymology 1.  F. M. Ahl, Metaformations. Soundplay and Wordplay in Ovid and Other Classical Poets, Ithaca-New York-London 1985. Reviews: D. P. Fowler, G&R 33, 1986, 208–9; S. J. Harrison, CR 36, 1986, 236–7; N. Horsfall, JRS 76, 1986, 322–3; J. T. Davis, Phoenix 41, 1987, 209–10; N. Gross, CW 80, 1987, 219–20; B. R. Nagle, CJ 82, 1987, 340–2; W. S. Anderson, AJPh 109, 1988, 457–9; G. Davis, CPh 83, 1988, 260–2; E. Doblhofer, Gnomon 60, 1988, 155–8; A. Moss, CompLit 41, 1989, 188–90. 2.  K. S. Myers, “The Lizard and the Owl: An Etymological Pair in Ovid, Metamorphoses Book 5”, AJPh 113, 1992, 63–8. 3.  S. M. Wheeler, “Changing names: the miracle of Iphis in Ovid Metamorphoses 9”, Phoenix 51, 1997, 190–202. 4.  A. Brazouski, “«Indicium» in the works of Ovid”, SyllClass 9, 1998, 86–94. 5.  M. Robinson, “Salmacis and Hermaphroditus: when two become one”, CQ 49, 1999, 212–23. 6.  A. Michalopoulos, Ancient Etymologies in Ovid’s Metamorphoses: A Commented Lexicon, Leeds 2001 (ARCA Classical and Medieval Texts, Papers and Monographs 40). Reviews: J. Fabre-Serris, REL 79, 2001, 306–7; M. Paschalis, BMCR 2002.10.09; R. Cormier, REA 105, 2003, 310–11; B. Pavlock, JRS 93, 2003, 378–9; P. Tordeur, AC 72, 2003, 394–5; R. Cormier, Latomus 63, 2004, 237–8; J. J. O’Hara, CW 97, 2004, 210–12; S. Papaïoannou, CJ 99, 2003/04, 89–91; B.  Rochette, Gnomon 76, 2004, 169–71. 7.  A. M. Keith, “Etymological Wordplay in Ovid’s ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ (Met. 4.55–166)”, CQ 51, 2001, 309–13. 8.  A. Cucchiarelli, “Doppeltes Tabu: zu Ovid, Met. 3,98”, Gymnasium 117, 2010, 367–9. 9.  C. R. Shelton, Semantics and the structure of Latin etymological wordplay, Ph. D. thesis Washington 2011.

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“Ovid accompanies his descriptions of changes in physical shape with changes in the shape of the words used to tell the tale”: that is how Ahl (1, 9) summarises the main purpose of his contribution. The book analyses the narrative structure of met., in particular of the three first books, and of the most important stories which they contain (the myths of Myrrha, Narcissus, Tereus, Procne and Philomela …). This scholar finds different levels of meaning, frequently constructed through soundplays and wordplays (anagrams, palindromes). One example, out of many, is the expression used by Ovid to make us understand Tereus’ strong passion for Philomela (met. 6.480–1): omnia pro stimulis facibusque ciboque furoris / accipit. Here Ovid anticipates the motif of food, tragically essential to the closure of the story (127). Etymological wordplay is the topic of Shelton (9), who in his Ph.D. thesis examines, through the current tendencies in the studies of semantics and pragmatics, this device in met. but also in Tibullus and the Aeneid. A commented lexicon on Ovid’s etymologies in the met. is that of Michalopoulos (6). In the section titled “Etymo­ logies” (13–185), the author examines each voice, always following the same scheme: explanation of the etymology;  a search for its presence in grammatical tradition; sources and models, originality, function of the etymology; other occurrences of it in met.; and due bibliographical references. Michalopoulos has conveniently gathered some material which had been studied previously, but he contributes new probable etymological wordplays, or fresh nuances for already well-established etymologies. So, for instance, the connection between anima-animus and exsanguis (i. e. anima < ἄναιμα = “sine sanguine”) and the links between invidia and videre, ira and ire, nox and noceo etc. The works by Myers (2), Wheeler (3), Robinson (5), Keith (7), and Cucchiarelli (8) are devoted to etymological wordplay in particular episodes of met. In her article, Myers (2) deals with the rape of Proserpina (met. 5.446–61 and 534–50). She notes how Ovid, through a refined compositive technique, weaves a parallel between the episode of the lizard and that of the owl, creating a Latin etymology for the word for lizard (stellio), while reusing the Greek etymology for owl. Wheeler (3) focuses on the etymological associations of the names ‘Iphis’ and ‘Ianthe’ in Book 9. In the story of Iphis, Ovid only appears to evoke the Hellenistic story by Leucippus, whose prose summary is present in the collection gathered by Antoninus Liberalis (190). The name ‘Iphis’ is associated with the male world (194–6): the recurrence (esp. in met. 9.723–5 and 786–91) of terms such as vir, vis, vires, vigor, all of which belong to the semantic field of strength and masculinity, ope­ rates as a sort of omen of the character’s future sex-change. The name ‘Ianthe’ means ‘bloom of violet’ and is also a portent of the persona’s role, since, as Wheeler states, “the comparison of the bride to a flower is a well-known convention of epithalamial song” (194). In his study, Robinson (5) analyses the episode of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus. The author focuses on the interpretative issues raised by Ovid’s story, on the compre­ sence of aition and metamorphosis, and on the double identity of both protagonists (their ambiguous nature, which oscillates between being androgynous and effeminate, lies in the meaning of the name ‘Hermaphroditus’): “even before their combination

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into one androgynous being, both Hermaphroditus and Salmacis are playing the male and female part” (218). Keith (7) proves that Ovid built the episode of Pyramus and Thisbe based on wordplay (anagrams and paronomasias), namely on the terms mora (‘mulberry’), amor, Mors, mora (‘delay’) and the Greek etymology of mora (‘flowing blood’). Cucchiarelli (8) examines met. 3.98, where Cadmus, after having killed an enormous snake, learns his own fate. He himself, after several vicissitudes, will be transformed into  a serpent, according to  a prophecy similar to that in Euripides’ Bacchae, where it is revealed to Dionysus. The episode in the third book of met. is dominated by the emphasis placed on the elements related to ‘sight’ and the ‘eyes’. According to Cucchiarelli, the use of serpens as  a translation of Greek δράκων is euphemistic. Through the act of seeing, Cadmus incarnates another characteristic hitherto attributed to the animal: according to an old belief, δράκων derives from δέρκεσθαι ‘to see all of a sudden’. The contribution of Brazouski (4) is devoted to the use of the word indicium in Ovid’s poems. She notes that the term, in the sense of “the giving of information against another” (86), belongs to Roman legal terminology. In spite of Augustus’ proscriptions, which are similar to those of the Sullan period and to those of the second triumvirate, once his position in power was stabilised, two of his laws caused the proliferation of the practice of indicium (the Lex Iulia de maiestate, and the Lex Iulia de adulteriis coërcendis). It is this sense of the term that Ovid reflects in his works: “he often associates indicium with the reporting of illicit love affairs” (94, met. included: 91–3). 7. Greek Names 1.  P. Somville, “Le dauphin dans la religion grecque”, RHR 201, 1984, 3–24. 2.  M. Janan, “‘The Labyrinth and the Mirror’. Incest and Influence in Metamorphoses 9”, Arethusa 24, 1991, 239–56. 3.  G. Tissol, The Face of Nature. Wit, Narrative, and Cosmic Origins in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Princeton 1991. Reviews: B. W. Boyd, Vergilius 44, 1998, 151–8; J. B. Solodow, BMCR 2000.01.26. 4.  M. P. Wilhelm, “The Medeas of Euripides, Apollonius and Ovid”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 43–57. 5.  S. M. Wheeler, “Changing names: the miracle of Iphis in Ovid Metamorphoses 9”, Phoenix 51, 1997, 190–202. 6.  A. Michalopoulos, Ancient Etymologies in Ovid’s Metamorphoses: A Commented Lexicon, Leeds 2001 (ARCA Classical and Medieval Texts, Papers and Monographs 40). Reviews: J. Fabre-Serris, REL 79, 2001, 306–7; M. Paschalis, BMCR 2002.10.09; R. Cormier, REA 105, 2003, 310–11; S. Papaioannou, CJ 99, 2003, 89–91; P. Tordeur, AC 72, 2003, 394–5; J. J. O’Hara, CW 97, 2004, 210–12; B. Pavlock, JRS 93,

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2003, 378–9; R. Cormier, Latomus 63, 2004, 237–8; B. Rochette, Gnomon 76, 2004, 169–71. 7.  S. Raval, “A lover’s discourse: Byblis in Metamorphoses 9”, Arethusa 34, 2001, 285–311. 8.  C. Tsitsiou-Chelidoni, “Nomen Omen: Scylla’s Eloquent Name and Ovid’s Reply (Met. 8, 6–151)”, MD 50, 2003, 195–203. 9.  M. Paschalis, “Names, Semantics and Narrative in Ovid’s Polydorus and Poly­ xena Episodes and their Intertexts (Euripides’ Hecuba and Virgil’s Aeneid)”, SIFC 1, 2003, 142–59. 10.  J. B. DeBrohun, “Centaurs in love and war: Cyllarus and Hylonome in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 12.393–428”, AJPh 125, 2004, 417–52. 11.  L. Chappuis Sandoz, “Les puellae des Métamorphoses d’Ovide: des jeunes femmes de mauvais genre?”, LEC 73, 2005, 319–57. 12.  S. Kyriakidis, Catalogues of Proper Names in Latin Epic Poetry: Lucretius – Virgil – Ovid, Cambridge 2007 (Pierides. Studies in Greek and Latin Literature). Review: C. Francese, BMCR 2009.01.08. 13.  S. Papaioannou, Redesigning Achilles. ‘Recycling’ the Epic Cycle in the ‘Little Iliad’ (Ovid, Metamorphoses 12.1–13.622), Berlin-New York 2007 (Untersuchungen zur antiken Literatur und Geschichte 89). 14.  J. C. Fernández Corte, “De la figura a la ficción: metamorfosis y metalepsis”, in J. F. González Castro, J. de la Villa Polo (eds.), Perfiles de Grecia y Roma (Actas del XII Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos, Valencia, 22 al 26 de octubre de 2007), Madrid 2010, II, 913–20. 15.  S. Papaioannou, “Searching for the original Cyllarus”, Athenaeum 98, 2010, 173–9. 16.  R. W. Cowan, “Passing over Cephisos’ grandson: literal praeteritio and the rhetoric of obscurity in Ovid Met. 7.350–93”, Ramus 40.2, 2011, 146–67. In met. Ovid often uses proper speaking names linked to Greek terms. Below I have listed some works which show this: Andreas Michalopoulos (6) presents his monograph as “a commented lexicon of etymologies in Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (1). His classification of etymologies includes the category “etymologising on proper names” (2), and in discussing the different types of etymologies in met. (6–12) he makes the following statement: “Ovid etymologises on proper names which have a meaning of particular appropriateness to their bearers – especially when they occur … in groups” (6). Consequently, Michalopoulos’s dissertation often features proper names which are transliterations of Greek words or names. Then he offers some examples: Acis is a transliteration of Greek ἀκίς, ‘edge, point’; Melanthus from Μέλανθος (μέλας+ἄνθος, ‘black+flower’) (14); Epopeus, from Ἐποποιός (ἔπος+ποιέω, ‘word+to make’) (15); Arachne, from ἀράχνη, ‘spider’ (35); and Atlas, from Ἄτλας, ‘enduring’ (α+τλῆναι, ‘α copulativum + to endure, to be patient’)

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(38–9). In addition, Actaeon’s hounds have speaking names of Greek origin (16), as do the horses of the Sun (93); Aiax is associated with the exclamation αἰαῖ (22); Caieta, with καίειν (47); Autonoe is a conflation of ἑαυτὴν οὐ νοεῖ (53); and thus there is a long list of proper names associated with Greek etymology. The volume by Stratis Kyriakidis (12) looks at the catalogues of proper names in epic (esp. Lucr., Verg. and Ov.). On p. 43 he mentions the etymology of two characters in met. 1.579: Enipeus, which comes from ἐνιπή (= ἡ ἀπειλή, ‘threat’), and Sperchios, from σπέρχομαι (‘be in haste’). On p. 57 he shows that some of the names which feature in the catalogue of met. 13.257–60 are borne witness to in Hom. Il. 5.677. The article by Pierre Somville (1) introduces the sea as a fertilising force and the dolphin as the incarnation of the feminine being. Later, this mammal is associated with Apollo and Dionysus. Within this context a fragment of the tale of the Tyrrhenian sailors is analysed (met. 3.679–86), and the words of Acoetes in met. 3.590–1 (17–19). In his commentary, Somville recalls that “Acoetes (Ἀκοίτης) est le décalque du mot grec signifiant «Epoux»” (19). Michelle Wilhelm (4) traces the possible origins of the Medea myth (43–6) and reviews the versions of Euripides (46–8), Apollonius (48–52) and Ovid in met. 7 (52–6). After noting that “[i]n Medea’s family there is a prevalence of names for birds of prey” (43), she examines their meanings and their Greek roots (esp. 43–4). The etymology of names is one of the premises she uses to position the origin of the myth within the worship of chthonic deities and healer-magicians (44). Robert Cowan (16) approaches the same myth from a different perspective. He reflects on some of the metapoetic connotations of the physical and narrative praeteritio carried out by Medea during her route from Thessaly to Corinth, and on its rhetoric of obscurity. Because of this, he centres his attention on met. 7.388–9, where one of the most obscure myths and one of the most obscure figures appears: Cephisos’s grandson. Cowan identifies him as Phocus, both from the location of his grandfather’s river in Phocis, and from his own metamorphosis into an etymologically-connected seal (phoce / φώκη). He analyses how Ovid aligns himself with Hellenistic poetry here, without discounting the possibility that he invented this myth, and that “the poet is both exploiting and ironising his own poetics of obscurity” (155). Chrysanthe Tsitsiou-Chelidoni (8) asserts that the name Scylla (met. 8) is related to κύων, along with its derivatives (κύντερον, κύνεον) and its compounds (κυνῶπις, κυνόφρων), words already documented in Greek literature for characterising heroines who show negative patterns of behaviour. The Ovidian narrative and the structure of the text stress this etymology, and reflect the negative nature and character of Scylla, to whom “[t]he poet has … consciously given … the attributes of κύνεον ἦθος” (201). Tsitsiou-Chelidoni points out that, while Ovid is not the first to connect the name Scylla with her moral attitude, “[h]is text is nonetheless innovative” (203). Laure Chappuis Sandoz (11), while analysing the sexual connotations of the terms virgo and puella in met., seizes the opportunity to refer to the etymology of certain names. As the importance of writing proves in the story of Byblis: “le nom de la jeune fille pourrait d’ailleurs constituer un jeu de mots par rapport au grec βίβλος (le papyrus) ou βιβλίον (le livre), dans les deux cas un support d’écriture” (332). She also finds the

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origin of the names Iphis and Ianthe in Greek: the first comes from the instrumental ἶφι and is related to virility, and the second means ‘violet’ [flower] and “pourrait servir à signaler, par la métaphore florale fréquente dans la poésie épithalamique, sa nubilité et ainsi le rôle social et sexuel qu’elle aura à jouer (selon l’idée antique que nomen est omen)” (335). In their commentaries on the story of Byblis, Micaela Janan (2) and Shilpa Raval (7) also refer to the etymology of the girl’s name. Janan states that Byblis “puns on the Greek word for ‘book’” (240), and she also claims that “she becomes a biblos indeed, a ‘book’ that is a chrestomathy of her creator’s oeuvre” (253). Raval, for her part, gives the following interpretation: “By having Byblis writ[t]e[n] a letter to her brother rather than speak to him face to face, Ovid actualizes the pun on Byblis and bublos and figures Byblis as both the writer of her own text and the text itself ” (296). Moreover, she relates the transformation of Byblis into water with her name, since “water is where the material of bublos arises” (308). Stephen Wheeler (5) compares the story of Iphis and Ianthe (met. 9) with the version of Ant. Lib. 17, and his results suggest that both refer to a possibly common source: Nic. heter. The author focuses on the innovation of the proper names (192–6), looking at the names of their parents. Ligdus might come from λίγδος (‘clay mould used by the potter’) and hark back to his humble occupation; but a “potential association with the name Lygdus meaning ‘white marble’ (= λυγδός)” could also be discerned (193). Telethusa’s name derives from τελέθω (‘come into being’), is connected with the noun τελετή (‘initiation rite’) and is indicative of her role as a worshipper of Isis. Ianthe means ‘bloom of violet’, and reflects her beauty and her nubile virginity. Wheeler highlights the choice of Iphis as “a name of common gender to reflect the ambiguous sex of its bearer” (194) and whose “etymologizing associations … constitute a mode of discourse that permits the poet to play discreetly with the delicate anatomical details of Iphis’ sexual transformation without actually narrating or describing them” (192). Iphis derives from ἶφι (‘by force’), but Wheeler also comments on the link with these Latin terms: vis, vir, vires, virgo, vigor. Garth Tissol (3) analyses the narrative texture and structure, and the stylistic features (language, tone, wit, humour, wordplays…) of met., pinpointing the interpretative significance throughout. During his study he also looks at the readers’ experiences and the literary affiliations. At various points in the work there are references to the etymology of proper names, such as in the tale of Byblis. Ovid emphasises the letter, thereby connecting her name with “βύβλος (or βίβλος),  a written document” (44, vid. also p. 49); “Morpheus’s name defines his power to become the perfect appearance of shape, μορφή, in his case human shape” (78); “Icelos, ‘similar,’ reflects verisimilitude, …; Phobebor, ‘frightener,’ the evocation of fear in an audience” (79); and Battus means ‘the chatterer’ in Greek (173). José C.  Fernández Corte (14) tries to respond to the question of why the poet creates such  a roundabout route to deceive Alcyone (met. 11) if her dead husband or Sleep itself could visit her. He recalls that “Morfeo es una invención de Ovidio a partir de la palabra griega μορφή, que en latín equivale  a forma. Su actividad es el resultado de su etimología, imitar todas las formas existentes” (913–14) and “producir metamorfosis” (915). So Morpheus is equated with Ovid himself: the poet takes on

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the persona of Morpheus and conceives a series of apparitions in a performance which comes across as exaggerated. Therefore, we see an over-the-top trope, which he calls “pleonasmo metadiegético” (920). Lastly he refers to the etymology of Phantasos, related to φαντασία (919). Sophia Papaioannou (13) often employs etymology as an interpretative key in her monograph about the ‘Little Iliad’ (met. 12.1–13.622), referring to the para-etymology of proper names with some frequency. For example, Aesacus’ name may originate from the Homeric aisa, ‘[one’s] fate, lot, or destiny’ (27–8, 280); Achilles, from ἄχος, ‘pain’ (54); and Menoetes, from *μενῶ+οἶτος (76 n. 164); for the etymology of the names of various centaurs (Dorylas, Bienor, Phaeocomes, Cyllarus), vid. 112 and n. 248, 114, 134 n. 286. Additionally, she links Periclymenus’s name with περικλυτός, ‘most famous’, and with κλύμενος, ‘famous’ or ‘infamous’ (137); Coeranus, with κοίρανος, ‘master, ruler, leader’ (196); Polydorus, with πολύ+δῶρον, ‘many-gifts’, or with *Πολύ+δορος, ‘the man of many spears’ (215–17, 280–1); Lycurgus, with λύκος, ‘wolf ’ (219); Polymnestor, with μἡδομαι, ‘I plan cleverly, I plot’, whose root is also associated with Medea (221–2); Priamus, with πρίασθαι (240–1); and Caeneus, with Καινός, ‘New Man’, or Κενός, ‘Empty Man’ (280). In his analysis of the Cyllarus and Hylonome story (met. 12.393–428), Jeri DeBrohun (10) explains that the name Hylonome means ‘dweller of the woods’, from the Greek ὑλονόμος, etymology which is marked out by Ovid in l. 406 altis habitavit femina silvis (432). Sophia Papaioannou (15), on the other hand, looks into the origin of the name of Ovid’s Cyllarus, who first appears in Latin literature in Verg. georg. 3.90. Papaioannou comments on georg. 3.89–94, its sources, reminiscences, and the interpretations by scholiasts and commentators. Thus she describes a “confused and confusing tradition” into which the Ovidian fragment is also woven (175). Papaioannou finds in Chiron “the leading model” behind the conception of Cyllarus and Hylonome (176–8). Lastly she analyses the etymological wordplays that are present in both Chiron and Cyllarus: Chiron may be associated with χείρ (‘hand’) and is spelled identically to χείρων (‘worse’), while Cyllarus could derive from κυλλός (‘bow-legged’), referring to his deformed lower limbs. The study by Michael Paschalis (9) examines met. 13.399–575, where the story of Hecuba embraces the embedded story of Polydorus; and this, in turn, links to that of Polyxena. Paschalis looks at proper names (Polydorus, Polymnestor, Polyxena) and their semantics, which are perfectly integrated into the narrative plots and themes. For this purpose, the comparison with the two principal intertexts, E. Hec. and Verg. Aen. 3, is apposite, as well as with Homer’s Iliad. 8. Linguistic and Stylistic Details 1.  N. A. Greenberg, “Aspects of Alliteration: A Statistical Study”, Latomus 39, 1980, 585–611. 2.  S. Mack, “«The single supplie». Some observations of zeugma with particular reference to Vergil”, Ramus 9, 1980, 101–11.

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3.  W. S. M. Nicoll, “Cupid, Apollo, and Daphne (Ovid, Met. 1.452 ff.)”, CQ 30, 1980, 174–82. 4.  C. C. Rhorer, “Red and white in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The mulberry tree in the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe”, Ramus 9, 1980, 79–88. 5.  C. Arias Abellán, “Notes from a structural study about the names of colour in Metamorphoses by Ovid”, Mosaic 12.2: Special issue on the writings of Publius Ovidius Naso, New Delhi 1981, 160–8. 6.  P. Gros, “Les Métamorphoses d’Ovide et le décor intérieur des temples romains. Un essai de définition du dernier art «baroque» hellénistique”, in L’art décoratif à Rome à la fin de la république et au debut du principat. Table Ronde organisée par l’École française de Rome (Rome, 10–11 mai 1979), Rome 1981, 353–66 (Collection de l’École Française de Rome 55). 7.  M. Paschalis, “Evolat”, Dodone 10, 1981, 23–36. 8.  B. E. Stirrup, “Ovid: Poet of Imagined Reality”, Latomus 40, 1981, 88–104. 9.  D. Cogny, P. Cogny, “Ovide et le discours amoureux”, in R. Chévallier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 375–85 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 10.  M. L. Fele, “Una struttura poetica nella tradizione letteraria  e nei CLE”, AFMC 6, 1982, 45–74. 11.  L. Håkanson, “Homoeoteleuton in Latin Dactylic Poetry”, HSPh 86, 1982, 87–115. 12.  E. D. Kollmann, “Zum Enjambement in der lateinischen Hexameterdichtung”, RhM 125, 1982, 117–34. 13.  F. E. Brenk, “Tumulo solacia or foedera lecti. The myth of Cephalus and Prokris in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, AugAge 2, 1983, 9–22 (= Clothed in Purple Light, Stuttgart 1999, 166–75). 14.  H. Froesch, “Lautmalerei in den Metamorphosen Ovids”, AU  26.4, 1983, 12–21. 15.  M. Labate, “Et amarunt me quoque nymphae (Ov. Met. 3, 456)”, MD 10/11, 1983, 305–18. 16.  C. Arias Abellán, “Albus-candidus, ater-niger and ruber-rutilus in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. A structural research”, Latomus 43, 1984, 111–17. 17.  J. Fabre, “L’être et les figures: une réflexion sur le récit dans le récit chez Ovide (Mét., XIV, 622–771)”, Lalies 6, 1984, 167–73. 18.  P. E. Knox, “Ovid, Metamorphoses 9.466”, CQ 34, 1984, 489. 19.  R. O. A. M. Lyne, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Callimachus, and l’art pour l’art”, MD 12, 1984, 9–34. 20.  M. Boillat, “Mutatas dicere formas. Intentions et realité”, in J. M. Frécaut, D. Porte (eds.), Journées Ovidiennes de Parménie. Actes du colloque sur Ovide (24–26 juin 1983), Bruxelles 1985, 43–56.

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21.  H. Offermann, “Kunst der Verwandlung. Ein Versuch zu Ovids Met. IV 55 ff.”, in W. Suerbaum, F. Maier, G. Thorme (eds.), Festschrift für Franz Egermann zu seinem 80. Geburtstag am 13. Februar 1985, München 1985, 119–32. 22.  H. Stadler, “Beobachtungen zu Ovids Erzählung von Ceyx und Alcyone. Met. 11,410–748”, Philologus 129, 1985, 201–12. 23. K. Töchterle, “Ovids „Weltalter“. Eine textlinguistische Interpretation”, AU 28, 1985, 4–15. 24.  R. Corti, “Le terga del cavallo. Nota  a Stazio, Theb. X, 227–235  e Ovidio, Met. XII, 399–402”, Maia 38, 1986, 27–31. 25.  M. Paschalis, “Aut ego fallor aut ego laedor (Ovid Metamorphoses 1,607–608). A witty tautology?”, Eranos 84, 1986, 62–3. 26.  J. Daly, “Four-word hexameter in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The transformation of an Alexandrian literary technique”, AAPhA, 1987, 150. 27.  D. Schawaller, “Semantische Wortspiele in Ovids Metamorphosen und Heroides”, GB 14, 1987, 199–214. 28.  G. Galimberti Biffino, “Funzioni strutturali e stilistiche delle parentesi nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, Aevum(ant) 1, 1988, 247–60. 29.  E. B. Holtsmark, “Unhappy felix Niobe. Ovid, M. 6.284–5”, Eranos 86, 1988, 71–3. 30.  B. R. Nagle, “Erotic Pursuit and Narrative Seduction in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Ramus 17, 1988, 32–51. 31.  W. S. Anderson, “Lycaon: Ovid’s deceptive paradigm in Metamorphoses 1”, ICS 14, 1989, 91–101. 32.  J.-M. Frécaut, “Une double antithèse oxymorique, clef d’un episode des Métamorphoses d’Ovide: le meurtre de Pélias par Médée (VII, 297–349)”, RPh 63, 1989, 67–74. 33.  J. T. Kirby, “Humor and the unity of Ovid’s Metamorphoses. A narratological assessment”, in C.  Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History V, Bruxelles 1989, 233–51. 34.  C. Nicolas, “Contribution à l’étude de l’opposition blanc / noir en latin d’après une passage des Métamorphoses d’Ovide (Mét. XV, 41–48)”, RPh 63, 1989, 247–54. 35.  W. Schubert, “Medeas Flucht aus Iolcos (Ovid, Met. 7, 350–393)”, WJA 15, 1989, 175–81. 36.  E. A. Schmidt, “Ovids Kunst der Themenführung in den Metamorphosen”, in M. von Albrecht, W. Schubert (eds.), Musik und Dichtung. Neue Forschungsbeiträge, Viktor Pöschl zum 80. Geburtstag gewidmet, Frankfurt 1990, 195–208. 37.  C. Weber, “Some Double Entendres in Ovid and Vergil”, CPh 85, 1990, 209–14. 38.  *W. Evenepoel, “Ovidius, Met. 7,661–865: Cephalus en Procris. 2. Literaire bespreking”, Kleio 20, 1991, 98–112.

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39.  C. Segal, “La tela di Filomela  e i piaceri del testo: il mito di Tereo nelle Metamorfosi”, in Ovidio e la poesia del mito. Saggi sulle Metamorfosi, Vicenza 1991, 185–200. 40.  J. F. Miller, “Ovidian Allusion and the Vocabulary of Memory”, MD 30, 1993, 153–64 (= P. E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Readings in Ovid, Oxford 2006, 86–99). 41.  P. Wülfing, “Textlinguistics Applied to the Metamorphoses of Ovid”, in F. Heidermanns, H. Rix, E. Seebold (eds.), Sprachen und Schriften des antiken Mittelmeerraums. Festschrift für J. Untermann zum 65.  Geburtstag, Innsbruck 1993, 473–81. 42.  H. Zehnacker, “Sur quelques aspects de l’oralité dans la poésie d’Ovide”, in G. Vogt-Spira (ed.), Beiträge zur mündlichen Kultur der Römer, Tübingen 1993, 159–76 (ScriptOralia 47). 43. D. R. Shackleton Bailey, Homoeoteleuton in Latin Dactylic Verse, Stuttgart-Leipzig 1994 (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 31). Reviews: H. D. Jocelyn, RFIC 124, 1996, 107–9; R. G. M. Nisbet, CR 46, 1996, 243–5. 44.  R. Glaesser, “Orpheus als Redner: ein Vorschlag zur Behandlung von Ovid, Met. X 16–52 in Klasse 10 oder 11”, AU 38, 1995, 26–40. 45.  L. Cahoon, “Calliope’s song: shifting narrators in Ovid, Metamorphoses 5”, Helios 23, 1996, 43–66. 46. M. Hendry, “Improving the alliteration: Ovid, Metamorphoses 6.376”, ­Mnemosyne 49, 1996, 443–5. 47.  D. Lateiner, “Nonverbal behaviors in Ovid’s poetry, primarily Metamorphoses 14”, CJ 91, 1996, 225–53. 48.  T. D. Papanghelis, “De tergore partem exiguam: the case for a programmatic metaphor in Ovid, Met. 8. 649–50”, Philologus 140, 1996, 277–84. 49.  P. Torricelli, “Metamorfosi verbali: Ov. Met. XV 234–236”, SCO 46, 1996, 253–68. 50.  J. Wills, Repetition in Latin Poetry: Figures of Allusion, Oxford 1996. Recommended reviews: R. G. M. Nisbet, CR 48, 1998, 298–300; M. C. J. Putnam, AJPh 119, 1998, 295–300; J. E. G. Zetzel, CPh 94, 1999, 103–11. Other reviews: D. P. Nelis, BMCR 1998.05.17; J. J. O’Hara, JRS 88, 1998, 197; B. Vine, CJ 94, 1999, 195–200; J. Dangel, Latomus 59, 2000, 149–52. 51.  R. Hoffmann, Lateinische Verbalperiphrasen vom Typ amans sum und amatus fui: Valenz und Grammatikalisierung (Primäres Textkorpus: Ovid), Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1997 (Europäische Hochschulschriften. Reihe 21: Linguistik 175). Reviews: H. Salovaara, Arctos 35, 2001, 259–61; A. Christol, Latomus 61, 2002, 994. 52.  V. Hunink, “Ovidius als Verteller (Met. 3.339–510)”, Lampas 30, 1997, 47–9. 53.  P. J. Johnson, “Ovid and poetic facundia”, in C. Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History VIII, Bruxelles 1997, 231–44.

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54.  S. D. Kaufhold, “Ovid’s Tereus: fire, birds, and the reification of figurative language”, CPh 92, 1997, 67–71. 55.  R. López Gregoris, “Procedimientos latinos para la expresión de la complementariedad léxica y verbal: el mito de Narciso en Ovidio, Met. III 407–510”, in A. Alvar Ezquerra, J. García Fernández (eds.), Actas del IX Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos (Madrid, 27 al 30 de septiembre de 1995), Madrid 1998, III, 171–5. 56.  C. Montuschi, “«Aurora» nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio: un topos rinnovato, tra epica ed elegia”, MD 41, 1998, 71–125. 57.  C. Montuschi, “Le indicazioni del tempo nelle Metamorfosi: meccanismi ovidiani di contestualizzazione”, BStudLat 28, 1998, 426–55. 58.  S. Raval, Pudibunda ora: gender, sexuality, and language in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Ph. D. Thesis, Providence 1998. 59.  J. Dangel, “Orphée sous le regard de Virgile, Ovide et Sénèque: trois arts poétiques”, REL 77, 1999, 87–117. 60.  I. Gildenhard, A.  Zissos, “‘Somatic Economies’. Tragic Bodies and Poetic Design in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in P. Hardie, A. Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations: Essays on the Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 162–81. 61.  W. R. Johnson, “Confabulating Cephalus: Self-narration in Ovid’s Metamorphoses (7.672–865)”, in T. Breyfogle (ed.), Literary Imagination, Ancient and Modern: Essays in Honor of David Grene, Chicago 1999, 127–38. 62.  W. Klug, “«Erzählrelief» bei Ovid: über den Gebrauch der Erzähltempora in einer Metamorphose Ovids: Pygmalion (X, 243–297)”, in W.  Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung: Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 455–65. 63.  A. Laird, “Allegories of Representation: Messengers and Angels”, in A. Laird, Powers of Expression, Expressions of Power. Speech Presentation and Latin Literature, Oxford 1999, 259–305. 64.  C. Martín Puente, “Y todo lo que Midas tocaba se convertía en oro”, Τῆς φιλίης τάδε δῶρα: Miscelánea léxica en memoria de Conchita Serrano, Madrid 1999, 495–9 (Manuales y Anejos de Emerita 41). 65. J. F. Miller, “The lamentations of Apollo in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung: Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 413–21. 66.  C. Tsitsiou-Chelidoni, “Erzählerische Querverbindungen in Ovids Metamorphosen”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung: Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 269–303. 67.  A. Zissos, I. Gildenhard, “Problems of time in Metamorphoses 2”, in P. Hardie, A. Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations: Essays on the Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 31–47.

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68.  A. Zissos, “The rape of Proserpina in Ovid Met. 5.341–661: Internal Audience and Narrative Distortion”, Phoenix 53, 1999, 97–113. 69.  E. Gallego Moya, “El mito de Escila en Ovid (Met. VIII 1–151)”, CFC(L) 18, 2000, 217–37. 70.  A. Videau, “Deux descriptions épiques a l’époque augusteenne: le combat avec le serpent (Virgile, Eneide II, 199–225; Ovide, Metamorphoses III, 28–98)”, VL 157, 2000, 19–29. 71.  J. Dangel, “Langage en échec chez Orphée ovidien: stylistique d’un métadiscours”, in C. Moussy (ed.), De lingua Latina nouae quaestiones. Actes du Xe colloque international de linguistique latine, Paris-Sèvres, 19–23 avril 1999, Leuven 2001, 947–57. 72.  E. Gallego Moya, “La focalización en Ovidio, Met. 8.1–42: aplicación de la teoría de Mieke Bal”, Habis 32, 2001, 223–31. 73.  P. Murgatroyd, “Ovid’s Syrinx”, CQ 51, 2001, 620–3. 74.  F. Felgentreu, “Ovid weiß es besser. Met. 13,730 f. und Verg. Aen. 3,420 f.”, RhM 145, 2002, 305–13. 75.  F. Rosiello, “Semantica di error in Ovidio”, BStudLat 32, 2002, 424–62. 76.  M. W. Schulz, “Das Quaken der römischen Frösche”, AU 45, 2002, 66–7. 77.  P. Barolsky, “Ovid’s Colours”, Arion 10.3, 2003, 51–6. 78.  S. Daams, Epische und elegische Erzählung bei Ovid: Ars amatoria und Metamorphosen, München 2003 (Forum europäische Literatur 1). 79.  G. Damschen, “Das lateinische Akrostichon. Neue Funde bei Ovid sowie Vergil, Grattius, Manilius und Silius Italicus”, Philologus 148, 2004, 88–115. 80.  *B. Hijmans, “Centaurs in Love: An Old Man’s Memory”, in R. B. Egan, M. A. Joyal (eds.), Daimonopylai: Essays in Classics and the Classical Tradition Presented to Edmund G. Berry, Winnipeg 2004, 209–20. 81.  N. Holzberg, “Verwandlungen auf mehreren Sinnebenen: Neue Wege zu Ovids Metamorphosen”, in P. Neukam (ed.), Alte Texte – Neue Wege, München 2004, 31–44 (Dialog Schule-Wiss. Klass. Sprachen und Literaturen 38). 82.  L. Chappuis Sandoz, “Les puellae des Métamorphoses d’Ovide: des jeunes femmes de mauvais genre?”, LEC 73, 2005, 319–57. 83.  L. Pasetti, “Ille ego: il tema del doppio e l’ambiguità pronominale”, Lexis 23, 2005, 237–53. 84.  V. Rimell, “Seeing seers: Metamorphoses 10–11.84”, in Ovid’s Lovers. Desire, Difference and the Poetic Imagination, Cambridge 2006, 104–22. 85.  *J. Blänsdorf, “Erzähltechnik und psychologische Darstellungskunst in Ovids Metamorphosen am Beispiel der Atalanta-Sage (met. 10, 560–709) – mit Ausblicken auf die neuere Erzählforschung”, Latein und Griechisch in Baden-Württemberg. Mitteilungen des Landesverbandes 35, 2007, 16–31 (= “Narrativité et psychologie dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide: L’exemple du mythe d’Atalante (Met., X 560–709)”, in

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S. Laigneau, F. Poli (eds.), Liber aureus. Mélanges d’antiquité et de contemporanéité offerts à Nicole Fick, Nancy 2012, 23–44; J.  Blänsdorf, Vorträge und Aufsätze zur lateinischen Literatur der Antike und des Mittelalters, Frankfurt am Main 2015, 163–80). 86.  L. Buzoianu, “Nom et déterminant dans la texture du mythe de Phaéton (Ovide, Métamorphoses II 1–329)”, Dacia 51, 2007, 73–8. 87.  C. Kroon, “Discourse modes and the use of tenses in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in R. J. Allan, M. Buijs (eds.), The Language of Literature: Linguistic Approaches to Classical Texts, Leiden-Boston 2007, 65–92. 88.  E. Caballero de del Sastre, “Foedus y fides en el relato de Cephalus: Ovidio Metamorfosis VII”, in R. P. Buzón et al. (eds.), Docenda. Homenaje a Gerardo H. Pages, Buenos Aires 2008, 145–56. 89.  P. J. Davis, “Narrative Scholarity in Ovid’s Iliad”, in L. Castagna, C. Riboldi (eds.), Amicitiae templa serena. Studi in onore di Giuseppe Aricò, Milano, 2008, I, 429–43. 90.  A. Feldherr, “Intus habes quem poscis – Theatricality and the Borders of the Self in Ovid’s Tereus Narrative”, in A. Arweiler, M. Möller (eds.), Vom Selbst-Verständnis in Antike und Neuzeit / Notions of the Self in Antiquity and Beyond, Berlin-New York 2008, 33–48 (Transformationen der Antike 8). 91.  M. Fernandelli, “Miti, miti in miniatura, miti senza racconto: note a quattro epilli (Mosch. Eur. 58–62, Catull. 64, 89–90, Verg. Georg. IV 507–515, Ou. Met. XI 751–795)”, CentoPagine 2, 2008, 12–27. 92.  J. Dangel, “La lasciuia ovidienne: une hybridité particulière?”, in H. Casanova-Robin (ed.), Ovide, figures de l’ hybride: illustrations littéraires et figurées de l’esthétiques ovidienne à travers les âges, Paris 2009, 171–82 (Colloques, congrès et conférences sur la Renaissance 64). 93.  A. M. Keith, “Sexuality and Gender”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), Companion to Ovid, Malden 2009, 355–69. 94.  F. Klein, “Prodigiosa mendacia uatum: responses to the marvellous in Ovid’s narrative of Perseus (Metamorphoses 4–5)”, in P.  Hardie (ed.), Paradox and the Marvellous in Augustan Literature and Culture, Oxford-New York, 2009, 189–212. 95.  K. Balsley, “Between two lives: Tiresias and the law in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Dictynna 7, 2010, 13–31. 96.  F. Cairns, “The genre «oaristys»”, WS 123, 2010, 101–29. 97.  L. Chappuis Sandoz, “Eine Frau auf der kalydonischen Jagd: Inszenierungen von Männlichkeit und Weiblichkeit bei Ovid (met. 8) und beim französischen Übersetzer Villenave (1807)”, in M.  Formisano, T. Fuhrer (eds.), Gender Studies in den Altertumswissenschaften / Gender-Inszenierungen in der antiken Literatur, Trier 2010, 177–97 (Iphis. Gender Studies in den Altertumswissenschaften 5). 98.  C. Kroon, “Anaphoric Reference and Referential Choice in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in P.  Anreiter, M.  Kienpointner (eds.), Latin Linguistics Today. Akten des

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15. internationalen Kolloquiums zur Lateinischen Linguistik. Innsbruck, 4.–9. April 2009, Innsbruck 2010, 583–97. 99.  D. Lowe, “Snakes on the beach: Ovid’s Orpheus and Medusa”, MD 65, 2010, 183–6. 100.  J. Luque Moreno, “Mentis inops”, Myrtia 25, 2010, 53–75. 101.  C. Martín Puente, “Mutatas dicere formas: la lengua al servicio de la metamorfosis”, Emerita 78, 2010, 77–102. 102.  J. McNamara, “The frustration of Pentheus: narrative momentum in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 3.511–731”, CQ 60, 2010, 173–93. 103.  L. Pérez Gómez, “La modalización ‘ser’ vs ‘parecer’ en el mito de Narciso y la poética de Ovidio”, in M. Alganza Roldán (ed.), Metamorfosis de Narciso en la cultura occidental, Granada 2010, 33–45. 104.  E. Tola, “Las tramas del texto en Ovidio, Metamorfosis, 6.424–674”, Circe 14, 2010, 159–74. 105.  P. Martín Llanos, “El adulterio de Marte y Venus en Metamorfosis de Ovidio: relato, narradoras y auditorio internos”, Argos 34, 2011, 36–58. 106.  I. Seiringer, “Fons erat inlimis, nitidis argenteus undis: Badende in den Metamorphosen des Ovid”, in A. Oberndorfer, M. Schwarzbauer (eds.), Badende: Akten des Kooperationssymposiums des IRCM mit der Residenzgalerie Salzburg, unter Mitarb. von H. D. Schneeweiss, Heidelberg 2011, 83–99 (Wissenschaft und Kunst 19). 107.  P. Murgatroyd, “Entertaining Arethusa”, MH 69, 2012, 177–89. 108.  S. Stucchi, “Da pietra a carne, da carne a pietra: riflessioni dalle Metamorfosi ovidiane”, Latomus 71, 2012, 87–101. 109.  H. Bernsdorff, “Die Kunst, sein Publikum einzuschläfern: Erzähltechnik und Mythenallegorese in Merkurs Geschichte von Pan und Syrinx (Ov. Met. 1.689–712)”, Gymnasium 120, 2013, 535–47. 110.  J.-M. Claassen, “Word Pictures: Visualizing with Ovid”, AClass 56, 2013, 29–54. 111.  V. Datane, “Dichtung und Klang: Ovids Metamorphosen als Sprechvorträge”, AU 56, 2013, 48–53. 112.  M.-D. Joffre, “La parole des héros: quand des grecs parlent latin (Ovide, Met. 14)”, in A.  Garcea, M.-K. Lhommé, D.  Vallat (eds.), Polyphonia Romana: hommages à Frédérique Biville, Hildesheim-Zürich 2013, I, 413–23 (Spudasmata 155). 113.  M.-A. Julia, “Créer, est-ce ‘faire exister’? (à propos d’Ovide, Métamorphoses 1, et de la Genèse)”, VL 187/188, 2013, 112–27. 114. D. Lateiner, “Poetic doubling effects in Ovid’s «Ceyx and Alcyone» (Met. XI)”, in D. Lateiner, B. K. Gold, J. Perkins (eds.), Roman Literature, Gender, and Reception: Domina Illustris, London-New York 2013, 53–73 (Routledge Monographs in Classical Studies 13).

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115.  W. Lingenberg, “Zur Standardübersetzung von quisque”, Gymnasium 120, 2013, 315–24. 116.  G. Mader, “The be(a)st of the Achaeans: turning tables / overturning tables in Ovid’s centauromachy (Metamorphoses 12.210–535)”, Arethusa 46, 2013, 87–116. 117.  F. Citti, L. Pasetti, “Metamorfosi tra scienza e letteratura: temi e lessico”, in F. Citti, L. Pasetti, D. Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza e letteratura, Firenze 2014, v-xxiv. Alliteration Taking as his starting point an article by W. M. Clarke (“Intentional Alliteration in Vergil and Ovid”, Latomus 35, 1936, 276–300), Nathan Greenberg (1) tries to differentiate, through statistical means, between the alliterations which were used deliberately by poets, and those which seem to appear coincidentally. Although he doesn’t address Ovid specifically, the results are relevant methodologically. Greenberg focuses on the study of the alliterative initial m and f in Verg. Aen. 4.  Then he compares the results with the frequency of the same initial sounds in Lucr. 3. Next, the scholar analyses how often alliterations of initial s and m appear in the entire Aeneid and De rerum natura. Finally, he looks at all the other letters of the Latin alphabet in these two works. The statistical data obtained brings Greenberg to a predictable conclusion: the presence of alliteration cannot be the result of a random distribution of sounds (which does not mean, either, that they were not produced by chance to some extent) and that, in the end, the distinction between intentional and unintentional alliteration should go further than simple, cold statistical calculations. Turning to more specific matters, Hartmut Froesch (14) records, with the theoretical support of Pl. Cra. 424b-c and 426c-d, a selection of examples of “Laut- und Klangmalerei” from different episodes of met. (1.6, 14, 100, 108, 111–12, 124, 143, 264, 266, 290, 299, 300, 335, 401–2, 3.38, 40, 42, 57, 59–60, 62, 80, 4.68–70, 101, 133–4, 140–2, 5.392–5, 509–10, 6.166–7, 176, 218–20, 236, 257, 322, 8.191–2, 229–30, 655, 681, 694, 10.58–9, 11.116–17, 127, 129–30, 153–4, 161–3, 168–70, 180–1, 13.73–4, 116–17, 147–9, 364–5, 15.783–98). The list has its appeal, although one can disagree on the interpretation of the sounds as ‘symbols’ or imitative elements. Focused on met. 6.376 are Michael Hendry (46) and Meinhard-Wilhelm Schulz (76). The former (46) proposes reading quamquam in place of quamvis to increase the onomatopoeic repetition of qua in this verse. Schulz (76) brings some rather trivial arguments against the interpretation of qua(m) as an onomatopoeia of croaking frogs, and suggests understanding it as a reflection of the impossibility of articulating underwater sounds.

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Homoeoteleuton The first specific study of homoeoteleuton in Latin dactylic poetry was carried out by Lennart Håkanson (11), taking the term basically to mean cases of two words next to each other which end with the same long vowel, or the same vowel (short or long) + consonant(s) (90). He included, although in separate tables, cases where vowels do not have the same length by nature (e.g. ignis perpetuis); the inclusion of these cases could alter the overall results. Homoeoteleuta are classified from a phonetic point of view. Håkanson examined verses of different Latin poets from Ennius to Juvenal, as well as some late poets such as Ausonius, Claudian and Prudentius (89–90); from Ovid, he studied the 1552 lines of am. 2 and Pont. 3, and the 3108 of met. 1–3, and 6. The scholar also included tables showing the occurrences of each type of homoeoteleuton and its frequency in each of the studied authors. The results are also compared with some extracts of Cicero, Livy and Seneca (97–8). One part of Håkanson’s article is dedicated to studying the position of the homoeoteleuta within the verse (111–13). In the final part of the article, he analyses the rather infrequent cases of homoeoteleuta formed by more than two members (113–14). Although some ideas in Håkanson’s article may still be interesting, his work has been superseded by the excellent monograph of David R. Shackleton Bailey (43), who examined a much more extensive corpus of authors, from Ennius to some neo-Latin poets (for Ovid, see 56–79). In his book, the more detailed classification is not based on phonetic criteria, but on different syntactical and grammatical aspects. In this way he shows, for example, that Latin poets tended to avoid homoeoteleuta formed by juxtaposed noun and attribute (naturally with variations between periods and between authors and genres). The quotation of full examples is another important feature of Shackleton Bailey’s book. In any case, as Nisbet noted in his review of the book, the tendency to avoid homoeoteleuton should be linked with the taste for hyperbaton, which often involves rhyme. The findings of both works could be interesting for textual critics. Word repetition The excellent book by Jeffrey Wills (50) is the first systematic study of repetition in Latin poetry. It has become since its publication an essential tool for understanding the phenomenon, its stylistic implications, and the possibility of using repetition, as it is marked language, to allude to another passage. Wills analyses a vast range of examples, from Ennius to Juvenal, duly collected in the index locorum at the end of the volume (the index rerum, however, is not exhaustive). Of course, he also provides many examples of Greek models (mainly Homer and Hellenistic poets), and sometimes offers comparisons with the usage of Latin prose (mainly Cicero and Livy). The material is distributed into four main blocks: “gemination” 43–186 (repetition of identical forms in the same clause), “polyptoton” 187–268 (repetition of different forms with the same root in one phrase), “modification” 269–349 (repetition of the same root in a new phrase), and “parallelism” 351–85 (repetition of the same form in

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adjacent structures). The fifth and final part of the book (387–471) is dedicated to the study of positional patterns of repetitions, of compounds as elements in the repetition, and of the prosodic and semantic variations within the repetition. It should be noted that, in some cases, he overlooks, or addresses sparingly, some problems of textual transmission which often appear associated with repetition (cf. 473–7). Likewise, the interpretation of some repetitions as allusive figures may also be doubtful or controversial. For Ovidian scholars, the book is especially useful, since this kind of resources and figures make up  a prominent feature of our poet’s style (see e.g. “participial resumption” in 310–25). Along with Wills’ monograph, we should mention  a previous article by Doris ­Schawaller (27), which analyses 17 cases of repetition of the same word in different senses in epist. (13.37–8, 7.5–6, 7.3–4, 21.143–4, 16.274, 15.66) and met. (13.40, 133–4, 268–9, 772–5, 170, 10.339–40, 15.639–40, 10.337–8, 8.695–7, 13.83–4, 13.365). She explicitly distinguishes this figure from polyptoton, paronomasia and zeugma (211–13), and establishes criteria for its classification (199–200, 213). In addition, she points out the implications of the figure in terms of the definition of characters (213) and the aesthetic appreciation of the text (214). However, the interpretation of some examples rests excessively on the nuances of the translation of the words involved (e.g. met. 13.40, 772–5) and ignores textual problems (e.g. met. 13.133–4). Double meaning and word-play Peter Knox (18) refutes that dominum in met. 9.466 is used ἐρωτικῶς (in other words, that it is equivalent to the elegiac domina) as some commentators claim, although he admits that very probably there is a subtle play with this secondary meaning. Michael Paschalis (25) analyses Juno’s brief monologue in met. 1.607–8 (aut ego fallor / aut ego laedor), which she utters after realising that Jupiter is deceiving her again. Paschalis suggests that the verb fallor could be used with the double meaning of ‘to be mistaken’ and ‘to be cheated on by one’s lover, husband or wife’. In this way, the two cola, with light Ovidian irony, could have the same meaning. Paschalis also observes that the two clauses have exactly the same number of syllables and letters, and include repetitions and rhyme (parisosis, paromoisis, anaphora). We should add that the two clauses are separated by verse-boundary. Clifford Weber (37) analyses some passages with double meaning and ambiguities in the work of Virgil and Ovid. As far as the latter is concerned (209–10), Weber focuses on the patronymic Dryopeius referring to Erysichthon in met. 8.751, which has been called into question by a number of editors. He suggests that Ovid is playing with the Greek roots δρυ- (“oak”) and δρύοψ, a type of woodpecker mentioned by Aristophanes (Av. 304). With the etymological play, the implicit comparison with the woodpecker, and the improper use of the patronymic, Ovid is introducing a strongly ironic component into his tale.

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Other figures Sara Mack (2) studies different types of zeugmas (which other scholars prefer to call hendyadis or even syllepsis: cf. 101–3). The article focuses fundamentally on zeugmas in Aeneid, which are compared with various examples in met. These are assigned, somewhat indiscriminately, a humorous function (it is not at all clear, e.g., whether the tone of Ov. met. 10.473–4 is sarcastic or merely light; cf. 104, 109). In this way, the scholar concludes, accepting without further ado the reception of Ovid as a frivolous poet, that “Ovid’s zeugmas (even his sober ones) ask to be taken lightly; Vergil’s zeugmas (like the poem in its whole) demand to be taken seriously” (109). In his unpublished paper, James Daly (26) argued that four-word hexameters (59 instances in met.) were a characteristic feature of Ovid’s style that he successfully used as “a significant means of poetic expression”. Jean-Marc Frécaut (32) studies met. 7.339–40, each verse of which contains an oxymoronic double antithesis. The scholar compares the rhetorical form with other similar passages in Ovid, marking out his singularity (70–1) and taking the moral of the entire Pelias episode based on the two verses examined (74). In addition, he comments on the zeugmas of lines 347 and 348–9 (73). Alison Keith (93) dedicates some pages of her study to analysing how the metaphor of the earth as a procreative mother is used (361), as well as the figured parallelism between landscape and woman in various passages of met. (361–4). Verena Datane (111) reminds us that the auditory dimension of Ovid’s met. should not be forgotten, not even in schools, so that figures of sound or rhythm can be rightly appreciated (48). Then she makes some suggestions for a successful exploitation of these elements at school and provides didactic material for two brief passages (48–53). Donald Lateiner (114) tries to show that Ovid uses “doubling effects” to parody the “overly intense marriage” (54–5 and 65–6) of Ceyx and Alcyone (met. 11.410–748). Any amphiboly which works at the level of  a word or sequence and, at the same time, at  a narrative or thematic level, is understood as  a “doubling effect” (in the wider sense). Four basic types of “doubling effect” can be identified: (a) “double-talk” which acts as an intermediary through conventional tropes such as anadiplosis, polyp­­ toton, anaphora, epanastrophe, and antistrophe, among others (57–9); (b) “mimetic syntax” (59–61; cf. D.  Lateiner, “Mimetic Syntax: Metaphor from Word Order, especially in Ovid”, AJPh 111, 1990, 204–37: see on ‘VI.5 Word order’); (c)  alternating narrative points of view (62–3); and (d)  complementary and duplicitous ideas and emotions which are expressed through diverse figures and stylistic devices (63–5). Enjambment On the basis of unexplicit testimonies of the ancient grammarians, Ernst Kollmann (12) defines the notion of enjambment in Latin hexametric poetry. Then, he classifies enjambment into three categories, and provides the frequency of each one (117–27)

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in a selection of texts (Catull. 64, Lucr. 1, Verg. Aen. 1, Ov. met. 1, Stat. Theb. 1, Hor. sat. 2.3, epist. 2.1, ars). He examines briefly the stylistic function of enjambment (123) and the elocution of the hexameters. See also on ‘VI.9 Metre’. Michael Paschalis (7) observes that the dactylic form evolat appears in Virgil (Aen. 7.387, 9.477) occupying the first foot of the verse and followed by a pause, in a highly emphatic position and with a very emotive and dramatic tone (23–5). The scholar traces the origin of the expression in rhetoric (25), and maintains that this Virgilian collocation influenced later poetry (26–35), especially epic; this would explain, for example, its presence in Ov. met. 6.249 in the same position (27–9). Time indications and transitions Claudia Montuschi dedicates two detailed articles to studying time indications in the met. In the first (57), she studies temporal periphrasis in general, as well as, more specifically, analysing periphrasis in met. 11.257–9, 14.397–434, 15.30–1, 7.804 (which is also examined in the second article)  and 10.446–51. Additionally, Montuschi devotes some pages (449–53) to the periphrasis which indicate dusk in met. (1.219, 4.399–401, 11.596, 14.122, 15.651–2). Throughout the article, the poet’s innovations in terms of preceding traditions are established satisfactorily, and a considerable effort is made to show, in spite of some rather forced interpretations, that Ovid does not use time indications as mere transitions; instead, he inserted them into the narrative in a coherent and deliberate way. In the second, highly detailed and prolix article (56), Montuschi analyses the Ovidian use of the epic motif of Aurora who heralds the day. The scholar focuses on the transformation, in ironic and elegiac way, in met. 9.421–2 of the topos of Aurora, who abandons Tithonus’ bed to bring the day (73–83). In addition, she looks at the role of time indications related to Aurora in the myth of Cephalus and Procris (83–96), the rape of Proserpina (97–105), and the story of Phaethon (105–19). In these indications, according to the results, which are similar to those of the previous article, Ovid adapts the preceding tradition with originality. Thus, Ovid includes many subtle allusions in the Hellenistic way and often explores the contamination of literary genres and registers (between elegy and epic). Montuschi also observes that Ovid doesn’t use the motif as  a simple convention; Aurora is always an active and integral part of these narratives. In an appendix, Montuschi examines two elements related to the motif of Aurora in the rape of Proserpina: Lucifer (met. 2.144–5) and the so-called “dilatazione temporale” (met. 2.111–12). In terms of the correctly termed transitions in met., Werner Schubert (35) suggests classifying as ‘paratactic’ those where the myths are connected by a common theme, and as ‘hypotactic’ those where  a secondary theme is developed from the previous episode (e.g. Daphne and Io). The ‘hypotactic’ relationship, in certain cases, can favour structures in “Ringkomposition” (175). Then the scholar examines the various myths mentioned, as if in a catalogue, in Medea’s escape from Iolcos to Corinth in the chariot of winged dragons (met. 7.350–93), and tries to show that their link with the main myth is not solely geographical.

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In relation to the work just addressed, we should perhaps mention the article by Galimberti Biffino (28), which is summed up in the next section. Internal narrators A prominent characteristic of the met. is the game of ‘Russian dolls’, the embedding of one or more tales within the main story. Therefore, as is to be expected, many studies have investigated this aspect of Ovidian literary technique, which is almost never innocuous. These include the works of Gros (6), Fabre (17), Nagle (30), Cahoon (45), Johnson (61), Zissos (68), Murgatroyd (73, 107), Hijmans (80), Holzberg (81), Davis (89), McNamara (102), Martín Llanos (105), Bernsdorff (109) and Mader (116). We can also add here the works of Galimberti Biffino (28), Fernandelli (91) and Laird (63). Pierre Gros (6) compares the compositional structure of met. and its secondary tales (priora) united to main ones (praesentia) with various Augustan and Hellenistic exhibition spaces that attempted to bring together diverse figurative and narrative sequences in a ensemble that aspired towards unity. This takes Ovid closer to Alexandrian aesthetic ideals. In addition, the possible influence of visual arts with Hellenistic origins can be seen in some of the poet’s images. In any case, Gros does not intend to prove the direct influence of one art on the other. Betty Nagle (30) studies various instances of embedded narrative, and observes that the internal narrator often attempts to seduce his (or her) audience, inviting them to hear the story which he (or she) intends to tell (esp. 33, 47–8). This attempted seduction can also be seen in the erotic content in many Ovidian tales. Similarly, Nagle points out that often the embedded narrations can be classified as aetiological, a “traveller’s tale” or, sometimes, an “unsuccessful lover’s account of himself ” (38). Niklas Holzberg (81) reminds us that, even in a school environment, to appreciate the met. fully, the reader should not limit himself to reading only selected passages or simply to continuous reading, but he should examine the multiple internal narrators, as well as aspects of intertextuality. All of this is exemplified by analysing the story of the Lycian peasants (met. 6.313–81). Among the studies focused on specific episodes, Jacqueline Fabre (17) looks at the story of Iphis and Anaxarete (met. 14.698–764), which Vertumus uses as an exemplum to seduce Pomona, and explores the relationship between main and secondary stories. The scholar notes that the god adapts the original myth in accordance with his intentions, while in fact he has misevaluated the situation, and fails to achieve the desired result. In terms of conclusion, Fabre states that Ovid implicitly presents a reflection on writing: all rewriting presumes a previous interpretation, and no tale can serve as a universal exemplum (173). In met. 5.250–678, one of the Muses addresses the goddess Minerva and tells her the story of Pyreneus, as well as the victory of Calliope in a story-telling contest with the Pierides. In the second story, the Muse uses direct style, and reproduces her sister’s entire song (5.341–661). This is about the rape of Proserpina, which itself also includes other voices in direct speech. Leslie Cahoon (45), continuing  a previous work (“Let the Muse Sing on: Poetry, Criticism, Feminism, and the Case

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of Ovid”, Helios 17, 1990, 197–211), analyses this complex framework of narrators from a generic point of view, based on narratological methods. She also points out a possible political reading of the story looking at verses 5.365–72, and of the role of Ceres in the story of Proserpina. Cahoon maintains that Calliope’s song tries to show the destructive and violent potential of the gods, and of power. The scholar suggests that the vicissitudes of the victims, both in book 5 and throughout the met., can serve to question the established social and political order. On the other hand, an interesting suggestion is put forward, almost in passing: that the diversity of narrators functions as an element which contributes to Ovid’s reconfiguration of the epic code (63). Following  a comment of F.  Ahl (Metaformations: Soundplay and Wordplay in Ovid and Other Classical Poets, Ithaca 1985, 202–3: see ‘VI.6 Etymology’), and without invalidating other previous interpretations, Andrew Zissos (68) observes that Calliope chooses a theme that turned out to be attractive for the nymphs of Helicon, who act as judges. He also notes that the Muse adapts the traditional story so as to win their favour. These are the identified resources: an excessively relevant role is given to the nymphs Cyane and Arethusa; the role of the Sirens in the story is presented in a more positive light; and a more important role is assigned to the female divinities. Zissos also briefly compares the version of the abduction in fast. 4.471–620. Paul Murgatroyd (107) studies the story of Arethusa (met. 5.572–641), inserted within the tale of the rape of Proserpina. Murgatroyd emphasises various humorous elements of the story and points out several stylistic aspects (alliterations, word order, rhythm, etc.) which contribute to the creation of humour. He also notes that Arethusa is not an “entirely reliable” narrator, since she abruptly interrupts the narration (5.642), probably to ensure that she is seen as the winner (188). Ralph Johnson (61) focuses on the story of Cephalus (met. 7.672–865). He points out how the character presents himself in a positive light, and softens the more sordid aspects of the tale. In addition, he notes that Procris’ account can only be sensed through the “fissures” of the Cephalus story. In met. 1.689–712 Mercury tells Argus the story of Pan and Syrinx, to send him to sleep and later kill him. Mercury’s direct speech is brusquely interrupted in the first hemistich of verse 700, and the main narrator finishes the rest of the story, which was not told aloud (cf. 1.713–15). Paul Murgatroyd (73) observes that this narrative method is innovative, and that Mercury’s direct speech is less animated and varied than the main narrator’s, since it must have the effect of sending Argos to sleep (621). Continuing Murgatroyd’s work, Hans Bernsdorff (109) offers some more contributions about this change from direct to indirect speech (precedents exist of similar changes, but these always consist of articulated speeches) and links them to motifs of allegorical interpretations of myths. Peter Davis (89) examines strategies used by Ovid to treat well-known themes from the Iliad. The poet avoids, as far as possible, directly addressing those themes (anticipating Lucan’s “refusal to narrate”): he treats the key episodes in an unexpected way, and amplifies the secondary ones. The most relevant point, therefore, is that the main narrator does not recount hardly any of the main facts (430), which are entrusted

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to three participants in the war, Nestor, Ajax and Ulysses, who act like self-interested internal narrators (431–40). He also notes that in the armorum iudicium the speech of Ajax is not very eloquent (438), while Ulysses is skilful and loquacious, which ends up ensuring him victory (439). According to Davis, all this permits Ovid to suggest that in the configuration of heroic tradition it is not the facts which are relevant, but the interpretation of them, and a speech’s capacity to persuade (440). Davis concludes by stating that “unravelling the truth is impossible; finding narrative scholarity is a hopeless task” (443). Within this context, Nestor, presented as  a narrator in Homeric style, livens up a banquet of the Greeks who are fighting in Troy with the narration of another feast, which ends up degenerating into  a spectacular fight: the Centauromachy (met. 12.210–535). Ben Hijmans (80) focuses on one of the subplots which Nestor develops in his narration of the Centauromachy: the love story of the centaurs Cyllarus and Hylonome (met. 12.393–428). Hijmans points out that the choice of theme is conditioned by the circumstances, the narrator’s personal enmities, and his own memory, which tend to confuse imagination and recollection. Focusing on the Centauromachy as a whole, Gottfried Mader (116) analyses the various narrative methods used by Ovid, via his internal narrator, in order to parody and destroy the traditional model of epic virtus to which the internal audience itself aspires. Mader refutes the idea that the Centauromachy is formed by individual, isolated episodes. He also points out that Nestor manipulates certain parts of the story in his favour (92, 108–10). Throughout the article, the scholar also makes observations about stylistic aspects of various passages. Joanne McNamara (102) studies the episode of Pentheus (met. 3.511–731) which, as a reminiscence of the drama, has a large amount of direct speech essential to the action. The article is especially focused on the monologue of Pentheus, which the scholar considers unsuccessful in the sense that it does not achieve its purpose of convincing the internal audience, even though in fact the speech is more oriented towards the external one (186). At the same time, the monologue serves to define his character and his lack of awareness, while also anticipating the outcome of the story. She notes that the speech of Pentheus “becomes less well structured”, to the extent that his speech does not take effect, and his anger increases, impacting on the very progress of the action. All this is reflected in the simile of 3.568–71, onto which the scholar also confers a metapoetic meaning for the entire met. The article also includes the analysis of various stylistic and rhetorical resources of the episode, as well as of some aspects of the characters’ language. Pablo Martín Llanos (105) focuses on the loves of Mars and Venus in met. 4.167–89, one of the tales of the Minyades, which is clearly modelled on the telling of the same story by Demodocus in the Odyssey (8.256–369). The scholar examines the meaning of the Ovidian version within the wider episode of the Minyades, and how they adapt the myth to their interests (e.g. as good weavers, the daughters of Minyas show special fascination for how Vulcan spins the net, details which do not appear in the Odyssey nor in ars 2.561–92, where Ovid also tells the story). Llanos also examines the relation between the Minyades episode and the Philomela one, through the action of weaving,

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and the conception of weaving as narration. In addition, he tries to clarify the role of the Minyades as women, as well as their relation to Bacchus. Finally, we should mention in this section the work of Galimberti Biffino (28), Fernandelli (91) and Laird (63). Giovanna Galimberti Biffino (28) studies the tales which can be considered ‘lite­ rary parentheses’ within the met., as they enjoy autonomy and soften the epic tone of the poem’s macrostructure. These parentheses are fundamentally of two types (252): tales inserted within another story, with their own narrative nucleus (e.g. Orpheus’ song in 10.106–739); and narrative segments introduced within the central fabric of the poem by analogy, or spatial, temporal or genealogical contiguity (e.g. Cyparissus and Apollo in 10.86–151). The scholar examines (253–8) in detail the episode of Pyramus and Thisbe (6.55–166), which is one of the stories of the Minyades. She emphasises the use of various narrative and rhetorical resources which mark the change in tone with respect to the main story. She also analyses the variations of tone from one section of the inserted story to another. The observations about the use of verb tenses by the poet, intended to cause psychological impact on the reader (258–9), are interesting. Finally (259–60), the scholar maintains that the use of parentheses is always premeditated and, if they are not indispensable, they are without doubt complementary to the main thread of the story. In this way, they reflect the tension, or rather, the coexistence of epic and epyllion. Marco Fernandelli (91) studies how some Latin epyllia, starting from Moschus, are inserted within larger works. From Ovid, Fernandelli focuses on (22–4) the story of Aesacus (met. 11.751–95). In his opinion, this represents the final stage in the Roman epyllion’s development. He notes that this brief tale, which ends book 11, fulfils the function of summarising the other stories narrated throughout the book. At the same time, it challenges the great story of Orpheus (similarly to the Virgilian Aristaeus). In addition, the epyllion anticipates and introduces the Trojan material of books 12–13. We should also mention the work of Andrew Laird (63), who analyses some of the narrative resources used by divine envoys and their poetic implications. More specifically, he examines met. 11.585–670 (281–5) and 14.829–39 (285–7). The second example deserves special attention: the words duce me (14.836) do not refer to Juno, who makes the speech, but to Iris, whom Juno charges with taking the message. So, in fact Juno gives the speech exactly as Iris should produce it, while the actual delivery appears in what the scholar calls a “report of speech act” (“we are given merely an indication that something was said or thought” 99). Aspects of literary and narrative technique Many studies have been carried out into the many methods which Ovid uses to arti­ culate, organise, structure and shape his tales. The following works focus on specific aspects, but with the intention of generalising: Nicoll (3), Stirrup (8), Lyne (19), Töchterle (23), Anderson (31), Schmidt (36), Wülfing (41), Hunink (52), Gildenhard and Zissos (60, 67), Tsitsiou-Chelidoni (66), Blänsdorf (85), Kroon (87), Dangel (92), Klein (94) and Pérez Gómez (103).

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Barbara Stirrup (8) analyses, from a stylistic and narrative standpoint, the myths of Jupiter and Io (met. 1.588–624) 88–92, Mars and Venus (4.167–89) 92–5, Philemon and Baucis (8.624–720) 95–100, and Pygmalion (10.243–97) 100–4. Specifically, she tries to identify not only the stylistic and narrative resources that allow the union of the supernatural world of the gods with common human routine, but also the poetic effects derived from the union of reality and fantasy, and to explore how the poet manages to bring coherence to disparate elements. Similarly, Florence Klein (94) studies the balance between the credible and the incredible in a text like met. that abounds in prodigia, taking as a paradigm the various stories related to Perseus between books 4 and 5. She examines some of the poetic mechanisms, such as rationalisation and aetiology, which allow Ovid’s marvellous stories to be realistic, and to be accepted by the reader as works of art. William Anderson (31) discusses the idea that Ovid presents the episode of Lycaon in such  a way that it is possible to assign to it  a paradigmatic and programmatic meaning. More specifically, the episode can work as a model of theodicy (in terms of B.  Otis, Ovid as an Epic Poet, Cambridge 1970, 100) for later transformations. Anderson points out that different elements of the story, along with the successive metamorphoses in book 1, show that the poet deliberately questions the initial paradigm. He ends up converting it into another paradigm full of moral problems which, ultimately, the reader will have to understand and solve on his own. Oliver Lyne (19) asserts that Ovid applies the same aesthetic principles as Callimachus, which the scholar assimilates to the movements of “l’art pour l’art”. In this way, according to Lyne, Ovid creates “effects”, “discrepancies” between form and content, which allows us “to taste such strong meat [i. e. tragedy, perversion, suffering and horror] without paying for it” (28). This interpretation is based on a strong and naive disassociation between form and content, which, in my opinion, is difficult to accept. The second part of the volume in which Jacqueline Dangel’s publication appears (92) is dedicated to exploring the concept of hybrid from  a literary point of view. Thus the scholar indicates that Ovid deliberately distanced himself from the great Aristotelian genres in order to create an original work, hybrid and subversive, worthy of the accusation of lascivus by Quintilian (inst. 10.1.89). After examining Ovidian elegy (171–7), the scholar analyses (177–82) the scenes of the Pierides (met. 5.294–333, 662–78) and of Arachne (met. 6.1–145) as paradigms of lascivia, and of Ovid’s hybrid poetry, which for Dangel constitutes the main thread, and the richness, of his work. Leonor Pérez Gómez (103) also examines the hybrid poetic of Ovid. She interprets the episode of Narcissus as  a metapoetic symbol of the union between carmen perpetuum and deductum, between epic and elegy. Additionally, she suggests that the Narcissus story can be read not only as an exploration of the limits between art and nature, but also of literary illusion itself as a reflection of reality. Karlheinz Töchterle (23) proposes a study of the myth of the ages (met. 1.89–150), based on some developments in modern linguistics. He claims that the proposal might serve as  a didactic model for analysing other poetic passages. The suggested

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steps are: identify the structure (“Gliederung”); build the semantic fields, following the principles of structural linguistics; observe the disposition of the motifs, linkers and verb tenses; and finally, he suggests observing the relation of the passage with the entire work (through a reading of selected representative passages), as well as aspects of the cultural and political context of the work and its author. Ernst August Schmidt (36) tries to show how Ovid links and gradually prepares the introduction of diverse themes, and how these themes are later picked up and varied. Three examples are analysed: firstly (195–201), Schmidt focuses on the creation of man (met. 1.76–88), which Ovid conceives almost as a consequence of the creation of the world (1.5–75). Later through the motif of the giant’s blood (1.156–2) the topic is picked up and varied. Later still, to offer just two obvious examples, the topic reappears in the episodes of Deucalion and Pyrrha, and of Philemon and Baucis. He makes similar observations about the theme of love (202–4), of transformation as apotheosis, and of the overcoming of death (204–8). Peter Wülfing (41) asserts that the variations within the met. are not only thematic, but also in narrative technique. In order to illustrate this, the scholar analyses from the narratological perspective two episodes that are very different in this point: Actaeon (3.131–259), and Pyramus and Thisbe (4.51–166). More specifically, he studies and compares the following aspects: action or plot; characters (also evaluating their interventions in direct speech); time and space; and the narrator (and his relation with the other aspects). Similarly, Vincent Hunink (52) takes the Echo and Narcissus myth (met. ­3.339–510) as an example of Ovid’s narrative art (50–5). Hunink’s main thesis is that Ovid manages previous mythographic tradition (49–50), as well as linguistic material, to guide the emotions of his public at every moment (56). Additionally, he shows that Ovid’s interest is not only in narrating the facts, but also in amusing and thrilling the readers (57). Additionally, Jürgen Blänsdorf (85) analyses the Ovidian narrative technique in the Atalanta episode (met. 10.560–709) as an example of the variety in the discourse types. This allows the reader’s attention to be maintained throughout the 15 books, and more than 200 different stories, and, above all, permits a detailed psychological definition of the characters. Caroline Kroon (87) analyses the modes of discourse, according to the classification of C. S. Smith (Modes of Discourse. The Logical Structure of Texts, Cambridge 2003), in various passages of met. (2.708–832, 4.55–166, 4.288–388, 6.146–312, 6.313–81, 6.424–674, 8.6–151, 8.414–532, 8.611–724, 8.738–878). The use of tenses is  a fundamental reference in the investigation. Kroon ascertains that the typical Ovidian episode is based on an alternation of the Narrative, Report and Description modes. Ovidian narration is defined as more pictorial and static than that of Aeneid. For the progress of the narration tends to take its base in the time of the narrator, and not the effective time of the action. In any case, the most interesting aspect of Kroon’s work is the study of the different narrative techniques (92: “deliberate ambiguity between  a historic and an actual / eternal reading; hint of universality; zoom; and fragmentation”) which allows the poet to use the present as an equivalent of the

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imperfect in “description mode Description” (78–90), a method characteristic of met. but seldom used in the Aeneid. Ingo Gildenhard and Andrew Zissos (60) focus on how Ovid uses stylistic and narrative technique resources to keep and, at the same time, adapt traits of the tragic characters, and aspects of the tragic genre itself. They comment on the use, at moments of high tragic tension, of sequences of present participles next to a enjambed main verb, indicating a violent act (165–7; e.g. met. 6.555–7, 6.636–41). They also observe that the paradox is another frequent resource in Ovidian tragic contexts (167–70; e.g. met. 6.537–8). On a more general level, they stress the occasional contrast between “playful compositional technique and the gravity of some of his stories” (164); the preservation of performative aspects of tragedy in the narration (172–6); and how the modifications of the narrative arrangement reinforce the change of cultural perspective in the transformation of Hyppolitus into Virbius (176–81). In another work, Andrew Zissos and Ingo Gildenhard (67) examine the thorny question of the mythical chronologies in met. 2. The ordered description of the Sun’s palace (met. 2.1–32) contrasts with the alterations and chaos caused by Phaethon’s frenzied race (33). The temporal alterations and, as  a consequence, cosmic, also spread out, consciously on the part of Ovid, into the expressions of pain which follow the death of Phaethon (37). The temporal disruptions continue in the episodes of Callisto (39–42) and Ochyrhoe (42–6). Again, these are deliberate disruptions on the part of the poet, to which metapoetic connotations are also attributed (42, 44–7). Chrysante Tsitsiou-Chelidoni (66), in a study of the structure of met., shows that the verbal echoes are one of the aspects which contribute to creating and stressing the structural links between various passages of the work (esp. 289–99). Along the same lines is a previous work by William Nicoll (3), wherein he analyses the programmatic function of the Apollo and Daphne episode (1.452–567). Nicoll points out (175–7)  a series of textual similarities and echoes between the text of met. and am. 1.1, as well as between met. 1 (178–9, 181) and book 1 of the Aeneid (178–80), as it is a typical characteristic of Augustan poetry to create a network of textual references. Other works address the study of the elements which give form and structure to the story focusing on specific cases, although without an obvious desire to generalise: Stadler (22), Kirby (33), Evenepoel (38), Klug (62), Gallego Moya (69, 72) and Chappuis Sandoz (97). Hubert Stadler (22) studies the brilliant narrative and compositional structure of the Ceyx and Alcyone story (met. 11.410–748). To that effect, especially from the third section of the article (207–12), the scholar focuses, almost as if it were a commentary, on the careful arrangement of certain key-words, allusions and motives. He also examines various syntactic and stylistic aspects which allow the poet to give form to his story and emphasise the emotions of his characters. John Kirby (33) examines three episodes of met. (1.747–2.400, 6.412–674, 11.266–748) to show that humour functions on the three narrative levels of Gérard Genette (“histoire”, “récit”, “narration”). He also makes various observations about

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certain stylistic and rhetorical resources (e.g. zeugma, apostrophe, word-play, paronomasia etc.) which contribute to generating humour. As  a continuation of  a previous paper (“Ovidius, Met. 7,661–865: Cephalus en Procris. 1. Inleiding, tekst en vertaling”, Kleio 19, 1990, 177–88), Willy Evenepoel (38) analyses various compositional and narrative aspects, as well as the style of the Cephalus and Procris myth (met. 7.661–865). Also as a continuation of a previous work (Erzählstruktur als Kunstform. Studien zur künstlerischen Funktion der Erzähltempora im Lateinischen und im Griechischen, Heidelberg 1992), Wolfgang Klug (62) analyses the distribution and function of the narrative verb tenses (present, perfect, pluperfect and imperfect) in the Pygmalion episode (met. 10.243–97). He observes how the tenses contribute to the story’s structure. He also makes some remarks about the narrator’s characteristics. Elena Gallego Moya (69), studying the myth of Scylla (met. 8.1–151), observes that most of the text is made up of monologues and speeches which develop the main plot in an elegiac way. Accordingly, the narrator’s interventions, in an omniscient style (223), are fairly short. She details the time markers which arrange the tale’s history and structure (220, 223, passim), and notes that the lexicon, tone and rhetorical resources adapt themselves to the development of the story (223, 233–4, passim). In another article, the same scholar (72) focuses on met. 8.1–42 following the narratological theories of Mieke Bal about ‘point of view’ or ‘focusing’ (De Theorie van vertellen en verhalen, Muiderberg 1978; 19802; 19905). Laure Chappuis Sandoz (97) analyses the “Inszenierung” of masculinity and femininity in the narration of the Calydonian boar hunt (met. 8.260–444) and its consequences in the Althaea scene (8.445–525). She details the literary techniques that allow Ovid to dramatise and question, and even reverse, the different gender roles: the way of describing and presenting the characters (178–80), the characters’ postures and the narrator’s vision of them (180–2), and the importance of their speeches (182–4). Based on her doctoral thesis (The Reification of Figurative Language in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Ithaca 1993, esp. 122–31: see on ‘VI.1 General Aspects’), Shelley Kaufhold (54) observes how the similes present in the Tereus episode (met. 6.423–674) anticipate actions which will take place further on the narrative, starting with the transformation itself. Similarly, some words used in a figurative or metaphorical sense also anticipate deeds that will happen in literal and real form. According to Kaufhold, figurative language contributes, at a rhetorical level, to creating the impression that the final transformation is appropriate. On a similar note, Ingrid Seiringer (106) studies the bath scenes in met. (Narcissus 84–6, Hermaphroditus 86–9, Arethusa 89–91, Actaeon 91–4, Callisto 94–6) and shows that the ekphraseis correspond to various fairly stereotypical models which help to prepare the reader for the later development of the story (96–7). On another topic, Hubert Zehnacker (42) studies the influence on Ovid’s work of various manifestations of orality in the Roman world, from rhetorical (suasoria and controversia), to the dramatic genres (especially comedy), as well as recitationes. In many cases, the introduction of these oral elements is achieved through epistolary form

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(as is obvious in some of the Heroides). In the case of met. (170–3), Zehnacker contends that the oral elements can be seen in the parentheses and in the direct interventions of the poet in the narration. This could reflect the refinement of cultured contemporary conversations. However, clearer proof of this assertion would be needed. The scholar comes to the general conclusion (172, 176) that means of orality or “dialogue perdue” allowed Ovid to renew Latin poetry. Within a book exploring the amorous relations between men and women in Ovid’s works from a gender perspective, and analysing how the contrast between masculine and feminine characters contributes to shaping poetic creation, Victoria Rimell dedicates a chapter (84) to the Orpheus and Eurydice episode (met. 10–11.84). She points out, often in an unclear style, distinct aspects of the subjectivity and point of view of the characters (especially Orpheus and Eurydice, but also the protagonists of the stories narrated by Orpheus in his long tale). She also analyses some passages in more detail (met. 10.56–63, 10.176–85). I would like to refer readers to P. E. Knox, NECJ 34, 2007, 90–2, esp. 91. Based specifically on the similarities observed by Rimell between the head of Orpheus, which, after being torn off, arrives on the beaches of Lesbos, and the ora Medusae (met. 4.741–3), Dunstan Lowe (99) analyses the mysterious petrification of the serpent which attacks Orpheus’ head (met. 11.56–60). He establishes closer similarities between the two myths, and also examines the integration of the scene within the Orpheus story. The identification of the serpent with that of 7.358, which is taken for granted, is uncertain. Along similar lines to Rimell, Andrew Feldherr (90) examines how the identity of the Ovidian characters in the Procne, Philomela and Tereus episode, functions to show how these same characters see and interpret the events. Additionally, Feldherr observes how the different “selves” relate to each other though images and resources that evoke a theatrical scene (especially tragedy and pantomime). From there, he establishes a parallel between Ovid’s public and the theatre audience, who may identify with (“seeing likeness”), or oppose (“seeing difference”), what they see represented on the stage. Grammar peculiarities The article by Maria Luisa Fele (10) is the most in-depth study of which I am aware into the sic structure with a present optative subjunctive, preceded or followed by a phrase with the verb in the imperative in paratactical relation. From a conceptual point of view, the structure is equivalent to a hypothetical period (the sic phrase represents the apodosis, and the phrase with the imperative would be the protasis). The structure, perhaps colloquial in origin, is documented for the first time in Catullus (17.5–7), and is widely used in the later poetic tradition (Fele mentions examples in Virgil, Tibullus, Propertius, Ovid especially, tragic Seneca, and Statius). The scholar shows that in the CLE the construction also appears to acquire a formulaic value with ita instead of sic. Based on his doctoral thesis defended in 1993–1994, the book by Roland Hoffmann (51) studies the integration of the periphrasis formed by a present participle +

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esse or a perfect participle + fu- (perfect of esse) in the Latin verbal system, as well as its specific application. The first chapter (7–20) tries to mark out the cases where the combination functions predicatively, from wherein its function is as  a periphrasis fully integrated in the verbal system. The second chapter (21–98) addresses the same problem by studying the valencies (cf. H. Happ, Grundfragen einer Dependenz-Grammatik des Lateinischen, Göttingen 1976). The scholar affirms that the process of grammaticalisation of these constructions was gradual. In the long third chapter (99–214), all the cases of the combination in Ovid’s corpus are analysed, although some controversial examples are reserved for the third appendix (266–76). The fourth chapter (215–46) extends the investigation to other authors (Plaut., Vitr., Cic.), which must be supplemented with the material collected in the fourth appendix (277–88). The first and second appendixes study, respectively, the valency of amare in Ovid (247–53), and the expression of the agent in Ovid (254–61) and in other authors (262–5). Caroline Kroon (98) tries to “evaluate and complement the current views on referential choice in Latin on the basis of materials from […] Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (583). First she focuses on the so-called “zero anaphora”, i. e. an element, not necessarily the subject, that is implicit in a sequence but not repeated (587–90). This is often used by Ovid to create self-contained vignettes, often even across different discourse modes (cf. 585–7 and number 87). She then turns to the study of “full nominal phrase(s)” (590–1), i. e. those including proper names, which are not only used for the obvious introduction of new elements (or emphatic re-introduction), but also for contrasting or rhetorical purposes instead of ‘lighter’ forms of reference. Finally, Kroon makes some remarks on the use of ille and hic (591–6). Hic generally refers to what is close, and ille to what is further away. But narrative techniques like “zooming in” account for some divergent uses of ille, while hic admits other specific functions of deixis (e.g. summarizing use). Lucia Pasetti (83) studies some cases where pronouns are used against strict grammatical doctrine, but which become acceptable when some elements come into play such as doubling, transformation, or any conflict of identity in general. More specifically, the following passages are examined: Plaut. Amph. 597–601, 177–9, Ov. met. 14.675–7, Apul. met. 11.2 and Sen. contr. 1.4.1. Wilfried Lingenberg (115) suggests that lexicons (mainly German school dictio­ naries) should offer as the main translation of quisque “jeweils einer” instead of “jeder”. He mentions some constructions with quisque (next to a superlative, with numerals, after a relative pronoun or interrogative, after a reflexive pronoun). Additionally, he comments on specific cases in various authors, among which is Ov. met. 7.563 (320). Lastly, Marie-Dominique Joffre (112) lists and analyses various passages of met. 14, taken from speeches by Greek characters that do not seem to fit classical and canonical grammatical use of the Latin language (832–3, 215, 30, 833–4, 250–1, 695–6, 843–4, 174–5, 205–6, 183–4, 211–12, 144–5, 181–2, 172–3, 236, 244–5, 283–4, 255–7). Thus, she states that Ovid wanted to reflect on the social and geographical origin of these characters. He maybe also wanted to show sensibility towards the (linguistic) diversity of the Empire. These conclusions are not convincing, since in some cases

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it is not difficult to find parallels in met. for certain syntactic characteristics which Joffre considers typical of the Greeks in met. 14, or at least they could be justified through other reasons (e.g. for 14.832–3, cf. 9.671 or 6.221; for 14.215 see Bömer’s note; for 14.30 and 833–4, cf. 1.508, 3.311; for 14.695–6, 843–4, cf. 3.338, 5.619; for 14.181–2, cf. 13.223–4, Verg. Aen. 3.623–7; for 14.255, cf. 13.636; for 14.256, cf. 5.322). Vocabulary, lexical combinations and epithets After studying the descriptio equi of Stat. Theb. 10.227–35 and its models, Rossella Corti (24) focuses on the juncture tergum sessile in Ov. met. 12.401. Corti asserts that the adjective, which appears for the first time in this passage, and was probably invented by Ovid, should not be understood as “«adatto a sedervisi»” as it is interpreted in lexica, but in the sense of “«largo» (cioè «in carne», «rotondo»)”. Starting from the controversial occurrence of facundia in met. 5.677, Patricia Johnson (53) studies every instance and the meaning of this word in Ovid. She concludes that, in the immense majority of cases, the term is used to refer to the eloquence of the public speaker. The quality of facundus does not imply the gift of poetry, and on various occasions facundia clearly distances itself from poetry (233–7). All of this is consistent with the prevailing use of the word before Ovid and in his time (237–40). The work concludes by comparing the silencing of Emathides and of Arachne in met. 5 and 6 respectively, with the possible censoring of artists, and of Ovid himself (242–4). Federica Rosiello (75) analyses the uses of error in Ovidian poetry, and the dependence of these uses on previous literary tradition, as well as possible intertextual plays involving the word error within the Ovidian poetic production. She distinguishes between three different meanings of the word: the first has the generic value of vagatio, with few examples in Ovid, which are used in reference to the pilgrimages of the epic heroes (in the example of met. 15.771, the scholar talks of the relation between Ovid and Augustan propaganda: 429–32). The second meaning is error understood as mistake, doubt, or as a synonym for dementia, furor or nimius amor, a meaning widely used in love poetry. The third meaning associates error with culpa and crimen (not scelus or facinus); this meaning is particularly common in exile works. After a comparison suggested by Ovid himself (cf. trist. 2.103–5), the scholar draws analogies between the involuntary error by Actaeon in met. and the famous error by Ovid (cf. trist. 2.207–8). In this way, taking the error as a central element, the scholar briefly studies (252–62) the evolution of exile works, focusing especially on trist. 2. Taking as a starting point two papers by Patricia Watson (“Puella and virgo”, Glotta 61, 1983, 119–43, and “Axelson Revisited: The Selection of Vocabulary in Latin Poetry”, CQ 35, 1985, 430–48), Laure Chappuis Sandoz (82) analyses the distribution of the word puella compared to virgo in met. The word puella is taken as a stigmatising term and is associated to the elegiac genre. The author analyses stylistically and literarily the various occurrences of puella in met. (323–49). Rhorer (4), Arias Abellán (5, 16), Nicolas (34) and Barolsky (77) have focused on the expression of colour.

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Catherine Rhorer (4) studies the association of the colour white with notions of innocence, chastity, “frigid absence of sexual feeling”, and with physical or emotional death, and the use of colour red with shame (pudor) and “the heat of violence” (79). These connotations are examined in various erotic stories of met.: Pygmalion (10.243–97), Narcissus (3.339–510), Hermaphroditus (4.285–388), Atalanta (10.560–707), Tereus, Procne and Philomela (6.412–674) and, especially, Pyramus and Thisbe and the mulberry tree (4.55–166). Carmen Arias Abellán (16) presents  a structural study of different adjectives that indicate colour in Ovid’s work, particularly albus / candidus, ater / niger, and ruber / rutilus, which form part of the “lexical subseries” of “white”, “black” and “red”. According to the scholar, candidus is the marked term to describe “bright and luminous white”, while albus can have a neutral sense or negative connotations compared to candidus (112–13). Additionally, the essential difference between ater and niger in Ovid’s time was not based on its grade of luminosity (115), but rather on the fact that the former often has negative connotations, while the latter is usually denotative (113–15). Finally, rutilus adds to the notion of ruber the idea of brightness (115–16). The article concludes with a brief analysis (116–17) of met. 15.41–8 and 11.313–15. Arias Abellán (5) had already reached some of these conclusions in an earlier version of this article, less detailed and with fewer examples. However, in the first paper, she comments more extensively on the loss of privative opposition between ater / niger, niger being the adjective which originally implied luminosity (164–6). While challenging some of the results achieved by Arias Abellán, Christian Nicolas (34) tries to guess how the chromatic opposition between black and white was established in Latin. For this, he makes his own semantic and stylistic analysis of met. 15.41–8, justifying the use and distribution of the adjectives ater, niger, albus, candidus and niveus. The general conclusion is that candidus is used as an opposite to ater, and albus to niger. Whereas the opposition of luminosity (“opposition privative”) between candidus and albus, and between ater and niger, raises more serious doubts, especially when taking into consideration other adjectives (e.g. nitidus or fuscus). Finally, Paul Barolsky (77) argues that Ovid’s poem is woven, just like Philomela’s carmen, using an opulent palette of colours. His lexicon is very rich (51–2, 55), but he even goes further combining and mixing colours (e.g. gold and purple 53, red and white 53–4). Barolsky contents that Ovid’s universe is “defined by color” (54–5) and points out that colour “is essential to Ovid’s sensuous apprehension of the world” (56). On another topic, Frederick Brenk (13), analysing the myth of Cephalus and Procris within the context of met. 7, observes that the use of typically Roman language recurrently throughout the book (pietas, fata, fides, foedera etc.) to present an Attic plot contributes to warning the reader of the political intentions of the various characters. He also points out that the narrative of Cephalus should be interpreted in light of the mission he must undertake in Aegina. The Ovidian habitude of marking allusions to previous literary works using terms from the semantic field of memory is well-known, at least from M. Haupt (Opuscula, Leipzig 1876, I, 71–2). John Miller (40) comments on four examples that apparently had escaped scholars’ notice (i. e. fast. 2.3–8, met. 7.813–15, fast. 4.193–4, 5.691–2)

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and, from those, studies the dialogue which Ovid establishes with other literary works and his own previous poetic compositions. Kathryn Balsley (95) studies the legal terminology used in the Tiresias episode (met. 3.316–40). She observes that the technical language gets increasingly specific (first, doctus, sententia, arbiter; then, iudex, damnare, inritus). She also analyses the distinct legal levels which concur in the scene (lex fatalis, Romana and divina). Finally, the scholar tries to understand the motives for using legal terminology, an aspect which had not been investigated previously. In a quite convincing way, she notes that the scene is intended as a satire on the invasion into the private sphere by Augustus’ moral legislation (an idea which, on the other hand, can also be noted in other stories of book 3). The excellent article by Silvia Stucchi (108) is dedicated to the stylistic and structural study of the main myths in met. containing a petrification (normally caused by hybris), or those in which stones are converted into men (due to pietas). Thus, she examines Deucalion and Pyrrha (1.313–415), Niobe (6.146–312), Medusa (spread out among the stories related to Perseus in books 4 and 5), Midas (11.85–145) and Pygmalion (10.243–97), among others. She notices that these scenes tend to use words implying, on one hand, hardness and coldness, or, on the other, softness and warmness. In the field of lexical and verbal complementarity, Rosario López Gregoris (55) exemplifies the different modalities which are used in the episode of Narcissus (met. 3.407–510; e.g. ducis uxorem – nubit; mitto – remittis; edulcare – dulcius facere; ducis uxorem – uxor ducitur; the concept of complementarity is succinctly described in 171). This procedure serves to express, “en un alarde de uariatio” (172), both the doubling, and the identity of Narcissus and his reflection (175). Also, Cristina Martín Puente (101) studies the various linguistic resources used by Ovid to describe the transformation from one being into another. She examines with special interest the syntactic-semantic combinations that allow certain verbs to acquire the sense of ‘transform’. A useful summary of the results achieved is on 99–100. The scholar does not neglect to mention the background of the various expressions. It is a relevant contribution, since a specific investigation into these characteristics had not been undertaken previously. The work is indebted to a previous one by the same scholar (64). In it she analysed the different ways that Ovid uses to describe the transformation into gold of the objects touched by king Midas (met. 11.102–3, 11.108–26, 11.142–3). Much in the same direction, Francesco Citti and Lucia Pasetti (117) study and compare the Greek (viii-xvi) and Latin (xvi-xxiii) words related to transformations (in p. v the two scholars specify that they express shared reflections, but that the Greek part should be attributed to Pasetti, and the Latin part to Citti). In the case of Latin, taking into consideration the characteristics of the transformation (“trasformazione naturale” or “metamorfosi prodigiosa”), they analyse the usage of the verbs (con)verto, transfero, muto (xvi-xviii). The derivative verbs of forma and figura are also studied, with special emphasis on the value of the prefix trans- (xviii-xxi). In addition, they examine the use of inchoative verbs (e.g. frondesco, ignesco) and periphrasis with fio (xxi-xxiii), which emphasise the process of transformation, as opposed to the Greek

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denominatives which stress the result (e.g. θηριόω, πετρόω, ταυρόω). See also L. Pasetti, “Immagini e lessico della metamorfosi in Apuleio”, ibid., 137–73. On the other hand, Michael Boillat (20) argues that Ovid has  a narrow and traditional notion of metamorphosis: for him, change implied  a physical process, and did not include transformations that affected exclusively moral inner aspects of the characters (43–4, 56). To rule out dubious instances, he analyses the descriptions of the poem given by Ovid in met. 1.1–2, trist. 1.1.117–20, 1.7.11–13, 2.63–4, 2.555–6 and 3.14.19–20 (43–5). Accordingly, Boillat extracts the following keywords: mutare, vertere, corpus, facies, forma and novus, which should allow us to decide whether an episode contains a metamorphosis (44). He applies the method to met. 8.698–702, 15.361–90 (46–9), but the absence of the keywords in 3.101–30, 7.121–30, 14.566–80, 14.530–58 (50) compels Boillat to add some other keywords to his list: abire in, fieri, os (51). He then discusses 6.204–301 (52–3), 1.452–567 (54–5) and 8.523–5 (56). Jo-Marie Claassen (110) studies the Ovidian use of the various verbs of vision, and the act of seeing by his characters. The study is based on the distinction of three basic actions of seeing, according to the degree of the subject’s implication: videre, spectare, tueri (29–31). Although the work is mainly focused on met., am., ars, trist. and Pont., the scholar offers usage frequencies of every one of these three verbs for the whole Ovidian corpus (34). As far as the met. are concerned, Claassen analyses some cases in which there is a clear-cut distinction of meaning between these verbs, or in which there is a deliberate exploit of these various senses (35–9). Similarly, she notes that Ovid stimulates his audience to conceive visually what is being said (esp. 31–2), and asks for a variable degree of involvement of the public (32–3). According to the scholar, in the met., as happens in traditional epic, the predominance of verbs in the third person implies that the public is invited to ‘watch’ mentally, while the characters ‘see’ or ‘look’. In elegiac works, the public is rather invited to share the narrator’s or characters’ point of view. Marie-Ange Julia (113) investigates the origin of the causative value of the verb ‘create’ in several languages. The various texts, especially biblical and Latin, she takes into consideration include Ov. met. 1.1–9, 21–3, 78–9. On these verses she observes (115–16) that Ovid considers the creation of the world as an act of a deus, expressed in active voice, while only the creation of man is expressed in the passive voice (78 natus … est) and a verb with causative value (78 fecit). She affirms that, in these verses, many of the verbs used by Ovid contain the notion of ‘separate’. In terms of lexical combinations, Theodore Papanghelis (48) observes that the expression resecat de tergore partem / exiguam (met. 8.649–50) in the story of Philemon and Baucis is inconsistent with traditional displays of epic hospitality, in which the whole back is offered (νῶτα διηνεκέα / perpetuum tergum). Papanghelis links the modification to the notion of poverty and parsimony peculiar to the episode. He also attributes a programmatic meaning to the adjective exiguus (cf. 282–3) and believes that it should be understood as “a literary self-comment” (281), or as a declaration that the narrative is inserted into the tradition of short Callimachean epic. Different elements of the Ovidian episode are compared with some of the fragments conserved

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from the Hecale of Callimachus, and with different techniques typical of the epyllion. The paper finishes with a brief observation on the implications that the expression de tergore partem exiguam might have on the conception of the entire work (i. e. a carmen perpetuum and, at the same time, deductum). Taking as a starting point a passage in Tacitus (ann. 14.10) in which the phrase mentis inops appears, Jesús Luque (100) examines the sense of the expression that is opposed, for example, with impos mentis. He also studies the formation of the adjective inops and its possible constructions, and their position before or after the adjective, in different literary genres and throughout time (i. e. inops consilii / consilii inops). The phrase mentis inops is documented for the first time in Ovid, with six or seven examples (depending on whether the controversial Epistula Sapphus is included). The seven occurrences are mentioned briefly (70–1), and he notes that the poet always uses the expression before strong caesuras, or at the end of the pentameter. The same schemes are also to be found in later dactylic poetry (69–70). Luque is also interested in the literary use of the expression in later authors (of particular interest is the comparison between Ov. met. 9.409–11, Stat. Theb. 1.476–80, and Tacitus’ passage). The article includes many useful parallels. Finally, based on the assumption of structural linguistics, Lucia Buzoianu (86) tries to show the deliberate disposition of nouns, and their corresponding epithets and qualifying adjectives, in the Phaethon episode (met. 2.1–329). Buzoianu understands that the originality and imagination of the poet in this aspect contributed to the renovation of the traditional myth. Acrostics Gregor Damschen (79) presents the identification of two new acrostics in Ovid: met. 12.235–44 (FAS / SVCCVM / RES ARSAE / AER), and 15.194–8 (CANES). Damschen understands the second example as a case of intertextuality en miniature with the programmatic acrostic of Aratus (1.783–7: ΛΕΠΤΗ), which can be tracked back to Grattius (494–8: ASCRA), Manilius (2.93–7: SAETA) and Silius Italicus (15.559–63: ARATeA), along with Virgil (cf. georg. 1.429–33, Aen. 6.641–57). Acrostics should then be considered a poetic resource with programmatic implications in the Alexandrian style. Whatever the case may be, these facts lead the scholar to refute the theory that acrostics were abandoned in Latin poetry from the 1st century bce to the 1st century ce. In the first part of the paper (88–94), the concept and functions of the acrostic are defined according to the ancient testimonies. Gestures and non-verbal communication Charles Segal (39) offered some occasional observations about non-verbal forms of communication in Ovid’s work, regarding the Philomela story (met. 6.412–674). Segal also analyses some narrative resources used by Ovid in this same episode. However, as far as I know, Donald Lateiner (47) was the first to present a complete study about the use of gestures and non-verbal communication in Ovid’s poetry (in

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general, these are little-studied aspects from the ancient world, but undoubtedly they had paramount importance: cf. 232–4). Lateiner examines the “body-talk” and the paralinguistic elements (he also looks at the description of clothes and other objects) mainly in met. 14.  He focuses on how these elements contribute to the development of the action, and how they provide information on the characters, and their reactions, emotions and mental state (227), which are not always in agreement with their actual words. He observes that gestures make understanding easier and speed up the narrative, as well as, in some cases, complementing the dramatic force of the speech or the action. Additionally, Lateiner points out that expressions of emotion are often cut short by the expectable transformation (235–6). At certain points (esp. 247–51), he also compares Ovid’s use of these elements with that of Homer and Virgil (esp. with Il. 24 and Aen. 2): Ovid is the author least prone to show non-verbal behaviour, although, when he does denote it, he shows greater richness and diversity. Lateiner distributes the non-verbal behaviour into five categories: ritualized, conventional gesture; affect display; external adaptors; proxemics and chronemics; and informal gesture. Shilpa Raval (58) studies the silencing of the sexual experiences of women in the met. The impossibility of expressing desire and female sexuality (e.g. Echo and Philomela) can be overcome by recurring to non-oral or non-conventional forms of expression. In chapter 3, which looks at incestuous relationships, backed up by the ideas of Levi-Strauss, she notes that the erotic experience is strongly reflected in the linguistic level; in this case, feminine sexuality manifests itself not only in silence, but also in the confusion of names, words, and linguistic usages. Stylistic and linguistic analysis of specific passages Denise and Pierre Cogny (9) study the beginning of Polyphemus’ inept speech, wherein the uncouth and distraught lover tries to win over Galatea (met. 13.789–809). The scholars point out various stylistic aspects (376–80) which emphasise the clumsiness of the cyclops when trying to make a love speech: the repeated use of comparatives with ablatives (moreover, many comparisons have a marked rural flavour), conven­ tional epithets, lack of verbs in personal form. In the final part of the paper, the reception of these verses by French translators is discussed (380–5). Mario Labate (15) analyses the controversial Ovidian hemistich et amarunt me q­ uoque nymphae (met. 3.456) in light of the intertextual relations between the Narcissus episode and Virgil’s second Eclogue (also ecl. 5.52) and Theocritus’ Idyll 11. Labate focuses especially on Ovid’s use, and remaking, of the bucolic motif of beauty. Specifically, he analyses the sense of et, which according to Labate takes on a causal value, and of quoque, which Labate interprets as postponed to me (“anche me”), and not, like other critics, preceding nymphae (“perfino le ninfe”). Helmut Offermann (21) studies the stylistic organisation of the Pyramus and Thisbe episode (met. 4.55–166), especially those features connected with the exterior form (alliteration, word order, changes of rhythm and the use of caesuras and dieresis, etc.). The scholar understands correctly that those various resources allow Ovid to

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create oppositions and tension within his narrative, which Offermann assimilates with the art of musical composition (119–20, 130). I disagree, in any case, about the attribution of meaning and allegorical value to these resources. Erling Holtsmark (29), while going through the ruin of Niobe after the paradigm ὄλβος, κόρος, ὕβρις, ἄτη, νέμεσις (71), asserts that in met. 6.284–5 (miserae mihi plura supersunt / quam tibi felici; post tot quoque funera vinco) felici should be understood as referring to mihi and not to tibi (73). According to this improbable interpretation, the oxymoron miserae mihi felici would ironically emphasise the ἄτη of Niobe in this point of the story. It would also stress her inability to acknowledge that the cause of her ruin is not knowing how to manage her felicitas (in the etymological sense of ‘fertility’; cf. 72). Although as  a didactic suggestion, Roland Glaesser (44) puts his attention on Orpheus’ speech in front of the underworld divinities (Ov. met. 10.17–39). He details the compositional and rhetorical structure of the passage, and how it fits to the precepts of ancient rhetoric. Jacqueline Dangel (71) also studies the speech of Orpheus. Specifically, she analyses the use of the different linguistic registers and the rhetorical resources employed by Ovid, and points out that the speech is basically laid out as a legal case. In addition, she comments briefly on lines 53–67. In  a previous paper, Dangel (59) offered  a linguistic and stylistic commentary on the tale of Orpheus as presented by Virgil (87–96), Ovid (96–111) and Seneca (111–17). As far as Ovid is concerned, Dangel observes that Orpheus’ speech to the Underworld gods (met. 10.12–39) mixes a lyric song with a judicial and rhetoric style (96–7). This incongruous combination produces an indefinite and ambiguous speech (97–9) which anticipates Orpheus’ failure (100). Dangel then turns to lines 10.40–61, focusing on the two formulations in lines 51 and 57 of Proserpina’s condition for releasing Eurydice (101–3), and on lines 48–9 (103–4). She finally looks at Orpheus’ second katabasis in 11.61–6. In these lines, according to Dangel, through some metrical devices, Ovid successfully combined the heroic and elegiac meter and diction (104–9), something that Orpheus himself had failed to do (110). Patrizia Torricelli (49) analyses the stylistic organisation, especially phonetic (260–4), but also thematic (264–7), of met. 15.234–6; she also refers to some other passages of Pythagoras’ speech (15.75–478). John Miller (65) studies the various stylistic, linguistic and literary resources used by Ovid in Apollo’s laments for Coronis (met. 2.600–32), Cyparissus (10.141–2) and Hyacinthus (10.185–216). Susanne Daams (78), analysing the love affairs of Venus and Mars, and of Cephalus and Procris (see also on ‘II. Reference works’), offers a linguistic analysis of the stories, which includes metric, stylistic and intratextual aspects, among others. For the linguistic and stylistic commentary on met. 4.167–89, see esp. 24–34, 73–4; for met. 7.690–862, esp. 50–70, 77–9. Elisabeth Caballero (88), examining the Cephalus episode (met. 7.672–865), makes some observations on various figures (e.g. chiasmus, repetitio, traductio, comparatio etc.) which appear in the story (149–53).

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In the context of a global perspective on the ancient “genre of content” that the scholar calls ὀαριστύς (‘wooing’), Francis Cairns (96) offers a detailed analysis (121–6, 129) of the Ovidian examples of am. 1.5, 3.2 and met. 14.622–771. Anne Videau (70) focuses on two scenes of combat with  a serpent: Verg. Aen. 2.199–225 (19–22) and Ov. met. 3.28–98 (22–7). She tries to identify the similarities and differences between the two passages, analyses their structure and discusses some style features (especially in Ovid). She also points out that the Virgilian episode tends towards brevity and constitutes an integral part of the story (22), while in the case of Ovid the scene is more developed, more evocative, and generally less unambiguous (27–8). In met. 13.730 (Scylla latus dextrum, laevum inrequieta Charybdis / infestat), Ovid reproduces, almost literally,  a Virgilian line (Aen. 3.420–1 dextrum Scylla latus, laevum implacata Charybdis / obsidet). The communis opinio is that, from a metrical and stylistic point of view, Ovid improved the line. Fritz Felgentreu (74) mentions, as hypothetical improvements, the chiastic structure and the arrangement of the antithesis around the penthemimeral caesura. One could add that the coincidence of foot-limit and word-limit was avoided. In any case, Felgentreu suggests that such an improvement could not exist, if the comma in the Virgilian line was moved after Scylla. However, the change in punctuation is defended by less-than-convincing arguments (e.g. avoidance of the syllabic homophony Scyl-la la-tus) and implies a trochaic caesura rare in Virgil. Moreover, the juxtaposition of the noun and its adjective (latus laevum) does not seem very elegant. It is also difficult to believe that, as Felgentreu claims, the subtleties of the Virgilian verse had not been properly noticed by Ovid, and that the changes applied in his quote from the model were neither conscious nor deliberate. Eleonora Tola (104) studies from a ‘poetic-rhetorical’ perspective the procedures by which the poet devises (‘weaves’) his narrative, from the rape of Philomela to the metamorphosis at the end of the episode (met. 6.424–674). This includes the identification of various figures of speech, especially phonetic, antithesis and paradoxes. 9. Metre 1.  R. E. Fuchs, Hexametertypen in Ovids Metamorphosen, Diss. Wien 1980. 2.  J. Gérard, La ponctuation trochaïque dans l’ hexamètre latin d’Ennius a Juvénal, Paris 1980. Recommended review: E. J. Kenney, CR 32, 1982, 218–20. Other reviews: J. Hellegouarc’h, REL 58, 1980, 469–73; E. Liénard, AC 51, 1982, 418–20. 3.  *E. Liénard, Répertoires prosodiques et métriques II: Ovide, Métamorphoses, livre VI. Lucain, Pharsale, livre V. Sidoine Apollinaire, Panegyricus (Carmen V), Bruxelles 1980. Recommended review: G. Orlandi, Maia 34, 1982, 307–9. Other reviews: J. Oroz, Helmantica 31, 1980, 443–4; E.  López Eisman, AMal 5, 1982, 217; J.  Soubiran, RPh 57, 1983, 152–3.

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4.  L. Håkanson, “Homoeoteleuton in Latin Dactylic Poetry”, HSCPh 86, 1982, 87–115. 5.  N. Hopkinson, “Juxtaposed prosodic variants in Greek and Latin poetry”, Glotta 60, 1982, 162–77. 6.  E. D. Kollmann, “Zum Enjambement in der lateinischen Hexameterdichtung”, RhM 125, 1982, 117–34. 7.  H. Stadler, “Eine textkritische Anmerkung zu Ovid, Metamorphosen 11,534”, Philologus 128, 1984, 304–6. 8.  E. J. Kenney, “Prodelided est. A note on orthography”, CQ 36, 1986, 542. 9.  N. A. Greenberg, “Metrics of the elegiac couplet”, CW 80, 1987, 233–41. 10.  A. Kershaw, “Prodelided est in Ovid”, CQ 37, 1987, 527. 11.  G. Möhler, Hexameterstudien zu Lukrez, Vergil, Horaz, Ovid, Lukan, Silius Italicus und der Illias Latina, Frankfurt am Main 1989 (Studien zur klasssichen Philologie 35). Review: J. Mazas, Augustinus 37, 1992, 440. 12.  R. Führer, “Metrik und literarische Konkurrenz”, Glotta 69, 1991, 247–9. 13.  S. J. Harrison, “Discordia taetra: the history of a hexameter-ending”, CQ 41, 1991, 138–49. 14.  J. Wills, Repetition in Latin Poetry: Figures of Allusion, Oxford 1996. 15.  G. Schade, “Ovids Aeneis”, Hermes 129, 2001, 525–32. 16.  R. Dammer, “Ovid und die Lehre von der Positionslänge”, Glotta 79, 2003, 1–22. 17.  L. Ceccarelli, “Note sull’esametro di Ovidio: Metamorfosi e opere in distici”, in E. di Lorenzo (ed.), L’esametro greco e latino. Analisi, problemi e prospettive, Napoli 2004, 85–111. 18.  J. H. Dee, Repertorium Ovidii Metamorphoseon hexametricum = A repertory of the hexameter patterns in Ovid Metamorphoses, Hildesheim-New York 2006 (Alpha-Omega, Reihe A, 246). Reviews: J. A. Richmond, BMCR 2006.10.31; E. J. Kenney, CR 57, 2007, 408–10. 19.  M. del Castillo Herrera, “Las formas de perfecto de indicativo en -iit en la versificación latina: ¿una cuestión métrica o una cuestión morfológica?”, CFC(L) 29, 2009, 5–20. 20.  M. del Castillo Herrera, “Las formas de futuro perfecto y de perfecto de subjuntivo en la versificación latina: ¿una cuestión métrica o una cuestión morfológica?”, CFC(L) 30, 2010, 249–61.

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General aspects and hexameter patterns One of the most ambitious works about Ovidian metre in recent years is the metric repertory of met. prepared by James Dee (18; cf.  e.g. the more restricted work by W. Ott, Metrische Analysen zu Ovid Metamorphosen Buch I, Tübingen 1974). The same author has also produced similar works on Homer (Repertorium Homericae Poiesis [sic] Hexametricum, Hildesheim 2004) and Virgil (Repertorium Vergilianae Poesis Hexametricum, Hildesheim 2005). The hexameters are classified into the 32 possible patterns, according to the alternation of dactyls and spondees. These patterns are laid out in  a table, rated by how many times they appear and their frequency percentage; this data is compared with the frequency of the same patterns in Virgil. The first part of the book consists of a complete scansion, carried out manually, of the text of met. The text used is basically that of Tarrant, but with input from four other editions (Haupt-Korn-Ehwald-von Albrecht, Magnus, Ehwald, and Anderson). The pattern of each line is indicated in the margin of each line, using the symbols “l” for long and “s” for short syllables. In the second part of the book, the lines are presented again, but this time organised firstly by metrical patterns, and then by alphabetical order of each line’s text. In both cases, various symbols appear in the margin to indicate textual corruption, textual variations between editions, consecutive verses with the same schema, words in direct style, or lines secluded by Tarrant. The chief limitation of this work, like other similar ones, is that important elements in the configuration of the metre are not taken into account, such as caesuras, metrical diaereses, syntactic breaks, interaction of ictus and word-accent, interaction of feet and word-limits, elisions, and hiatus, among others. Moreover, internet tools – which are constantly evolving and with almost infinite possibilities, such as for example Pede Certo: Digital Latin Metre (http://www.pedecerto.eu)  – are likely to render these types of repertories obsolete. The earlier works of Greenberg (9) and Möhler (11), which focus specifically on the frequencies of dactylic and spondaic realizations, are less ambitious. In both cases they reach the conclusion that Ovid was inclined to use more dactyls than other poets. Nathan Greenberg (9) bases his work on the analysis by M. Platnauer (Latin Elegiac Verse: A Study of the Metrical Usages of Tibullus, Propertius & Ovid, Cambridge 1951, 36–8) of the second book of Ovid’s Ars, and the same number of lines (746) from both the first book of Tibullus and the second book of Propertius. He aimed to extract subsequent conclusions about the metrical uses of the three poets (even though it is far from clear whether the sample was fully representative of the authors in question). Comparing the distribution of dactylic and spondaic feet in the three poets, Greenberg concludes that “Ovid is more dactylic than the other two poets” (233–4). On the other hand, using merely statistical and quantitative methods, Greenberg concludes that, especially in Propertius, there was a tendency to alternate dactylic and spondaic rhythms in the first two feet of the hexameter (233–8). But the truth is that the difference in percentages between the authors does not appear either excessively conclusive or significant. Even less convincing are his results about the alternation in the second and third foot (238), in the third and fourth foot of the hexameter

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(238–9), and in the first two feet of the pentameter (239). More persuasive, however, is the data which Greenberg uses to show that a hexameter with a dactylic first foot is often accompanied by a pentameter with a dactylic first foot. Equally, a hexameter with an initial spondee often goes together with a pentameter starting with a spondee (240–1), although strong doubts arise anew as to whether this trend could be genuinely considered significant. Neither does the analysis of the work’s first four verses used by Greenberg (239–40), or that of Ov. ars 2.635–8 (241), seem at all persuasive. Gabriele Möhler (11) reaches similar conclusions about met., but using a different methodology. Her book is a reworked version of her doctoral thesis presented in 1988 at Heidelberg. A mathematician by training, Möhler mainly uses graphs to visually represent the presence of spondees in  a sequence of lines, thereby establishing the “rytmischer Verlauf ” of a certain text. Employing various statistical calculations, she considers the results could be extrapolated to other sections of each author’s work (cf.  6–14). In this way, she attempts to reveal recurring structures which could be considered distinctive to each author studied (3), and she also intends that the results could be converted into criteria for either defending or rejecting the authenticity of a text or passage (4). In the case of Ovid, met. 1.1–476 and 12.1–483 (56–61) are analysed using this method. She reaches the conclusion that Ovid, compared to other authors, stands out for the great variety of forms that the graphs take, largely due to a greater presence of dactyls (77–88). Additionally, she also includes, among others, statistic tables about rhythmical patterns (15–21, 89) and about the frequency of dactyls and spondees in the lines studied (90). The contribution by Lucio Ceccarelli (17) is, in my opinion, very relevant. The author tries to examine the possible differences between hexameters κατὰ στίχον (from met.) and elegiac hexameters from the whole body of Ovid’s work (excluding medic. and hal.). The chapter opens with some interesting methodological caveats about the precautions which should be taken when applying statistics to metrical studies, and when selecting limited samples (85–9). Then the author analyses the global frequency of spondaic and dactylic realizations. He yields the conclusion that important differences between the two types of hexameter cannot be assessed, while variations can be noted within the works written in distichs (91–2). Then, he proceeds to examine the dactylic or spondaic realizations in each foot (93–7). Again, no significant differences between the hexameters in met. and elegiac hexameters can be seen, since the percentages of met. always stay between the highest and lowest percentages in the elegiac works (95–6). However, met.’s percentages seem to have more similarities with am., ars and rem. (97). For this reason, Ceccarelli suggests that it could be more a case of chronological differentiation than of literary genres (97). After this, Ceccarelli studies the frequency of metric patterns (97–102). The met. show  a certain preference for the SDSS pattern, followed by SDDD, SDSD and DDDS; on the other hand, DSSS, and especially DSSD (99–100), are avoided. But neither do there seem to be notable differences between met. and other works, especially taking into consideration am., ars and rem. The next section looks at the frequency of synaloephas (102–4), without considering either their position in the line, or the type of words or syllables used (in this sense, G. Schulte, De Ovidiano Syn-

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aloepharum usu, Münster 1909, is still useful). In this instance, one can see that met. shows a higher average of synaloephas (approx. one every five lines) (103), following the model of hexameter κατὰ στίχον before Ovid, which allowed an even greater number of synaloephas (it was Tibullus who began to restrict them in his elegiac hexameter) (104). Finally, Ceccarelli examines the matter of the clausulae of the last two feet (104–8). Met., in relation to the works in distichs, shows the highest frequency of the clause condere gentem, and the lowest of the clause conde sepulcro (105–6). Finally, the hypothesis of a chronological evolution within works in distichs is put forward (108). In spite of the importance of the contributions reviewed thus far, and those considered below, I should say that, in my opinion, in order to appreciate the stylistics of Ovidian metrics correctly and comprehensively, scholars should continue to consult classic books, in many aspects still unsurpassed, such as L.  Müller (De re metrica poetarum Latinorum praeter Plautum et Terentium libri septem, Petropoli et Lipsiae 18942), S. E. Winbolt (Latin Hexameter Verse: an Aid to Composition, London 1903), and M.  Platnauer (Latin Elegiac Verse: A Study of the Metrical Usages of Tibullus, Propertius & Ovid, Cambridge 1951). Position of words in the line Edmond Liénard (3) puts into order all the words that appear in the selected corpus of texts (Ov. met. 6, Lucan. 5, Sidon. carm. 5; in a first volume, published in 1978, the author examined Lucr. 3, Val. Fl. 3, Germ. Aratea) according to their prosodic structure and their position within the verse. The classification is made without taking into account elements such as elisions or caesuras. Similarly, the treatment of closed syllables arouses certain doubts, namely the consideration as short both final syllables ending in elided -m, and closed syllables with a short vowel at the end of the line. In any case, it is regrettable that, in addition to presenting the material, the author has not concerned himself to offer any conclusions about the versification of the various texts studied. It is worth noting that Gérald Purnelle (“Répétitions de coocurrences métriques chez Ovide”, RISSH 23, 1987, 135–66) carried out a similar research, which attempted to identify the recurring metrical position in which certain words, or groups of words, appear in ars, rem. and med. No general conclusions are reached about whether word recurrencies in the same metrical positions are used with particular stylistic or poetic intentions in mind. Addressing  a more specific matter, Hubert Stadler (7) defends the transmitted segnius in Ov. met. 11.534 against Heinsius’s conjecture setius. One of the arguments put forward in favour of the transmitted text is that segnius usually appears in the fifth foot of the hexameter, as is the case here, while setius generally occupies the fourth foot.

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Ictus and word-accent In his study about enjambement in Latin hexametric poetry (see on ‘VI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details’), Ernst Kollmann (6) dedicates some space (127–31) to analysing by percentages the coincidence between ictus and word-accent (today,  a somewhat outdated notion) in the lines with “Ein-Wort-Enjambement” (from Ovid only the statistical frequencies in met. 1 are offered). Kollmann also indicates which are the most common prosodic and grammatical structures in this kind of enjambement (131–3). Elisions Rudold Führer (12) focuses on the phenomenon of elision in the third longum (i. e. the fifth semipes) before the monosyllable et in Ovid, and its unusually high recurrence in met. 13 (13.6, 41, 74, 79, 122, 277, 728). The elision before et is conceived fundamentally as a Virgilizing stylistic and metrical characteristic (247–8). Based on this, Führer interprets that the defeat of Ajax – in whose speech appear five of the examples of elision, as compared to that of Ulysses, which uses elision on only one occasion – symbolises the victory of Ovidian poetry against the Virgilian one (248–9). Gerson Schade (15), on the other hand, validates this thesis as proof (532) of some of the conclusions obtained in his study of the so-called Ovidian Aeneis. About elisions and synaloephas, see also Ceccarelli’s contribution (17), as mentioned above (‘General aspects and hexameter patterns’). Aphaeresis Although many editors of Ovid believe that the poet could have graphically written the prodelision of est, almost none incorporates these forms into the text. In a brief note, Kenney (8) defends that in rem. 187–8 formosast should have been written instead of formosa est, so that each hemistich of the distich would have three words. Shortly afterwards, Kershaw (10) completed Kenney’s argument, putting forward some more examples (met. 15.426–8, 429–31), which he also justified on the basis of possible symmetries within the text. However, it is rather a graphic issue than a phonetic or metrical one, and, to a large extent, could be considered simply a convention. Hexameter-ending Stephen Harrison (13) studies the frequency in Latin hexametric poetry of a verseending formed by an adjective preceded by a noun with a similar short ending (in practice -ă), such as discordia taetra or flumina nota. Harrison observes that Ovid (143) refrains from using this ending in a much clearer way than the other Augustan poets. He has only two instances in met. (9.733, 10.618), in both cases imitating a previous model. Some years later, Nigel Holmes carried out a similar study into elegiac hexameters (“Gaudia nostra: a hexameter-ending in Elegy”, CQ 45, 1995, 500–3).

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In terms of hexameter-ending, see also above (‘General aspects and hexameter patterns’) about the contribution by Ceccarelli (17). Trochaic punctuation Trochaic punctuation,  a rare phenomenon in Latin hexameters (up to Juvenal), is the focus of study for Jean Gérard’s book (2). The main objective of the work is to offer frequency statistics for this feature (14). The introduction presents the research antecedents (two articles by J.  Perret largely provide the departing point: REL 32, 1954, 183–99; REL 33, 1955, 352–6) and describes the corpus of text used (oddly enough Manilius and Silius are left out). He also outlines the basic premises and methodology upon which the study is based. Out of 68,698 lines studied, Gérard has identified 653 cases of strong trochaic punctuation (121 of a total of 11,995 in met.). It should be noted that Gérard considers the opening and closing of oratio recta, or of parenthetic phrases, as equivalent to strong punctuation (17–21). This has been criticised, with good reason, by Kenney in his important review (218–19; see also Liénard 419). Moreover, Kenney has warned of excessive confidence in editorial practices on Gérard’s part. The first chapter (27–74) presents statistical tables of frequency and the placement of strong trochaic punctuation in the various feet of the hexameter. It is interesting to observe that the caesura κατὰ τρίτον τροχαῖον is the most usual until met. At that point, its presence dropped, and other positions gained importance (38, 43–7, 61–2, 72, 95, 207–8). In the second chapter, (75–124) Gérard examines which types of words and prosodic structures generally appear before and after trochaic punctuation in each position. The third chapter (125–80) examines the stylistic implications of this exceptional feature, such as speeding up of rhythm and “mise en relief ” of iambic words (which frequently appear after trochaic punctuation, often producing masculine caesura). In brief, the phenomenon tends to be accompanied by an “animation du style” (appearing more frequently in interrogatives, exclamations, commands, or in direct style). The fourth chapter (125–203) addresses more specifically this last aspect, which also has to do with issues of genre: epic poets use trochaic punctuation less frequently than satirists (200–3). The final summing-up (205–15) includes a comparison with Homer (based on a sample of 2,000 lines), in whose text trochaic punctuation is limited, unsurprisingly, almost entirely to the third foot (208). The book includes final indexes (227–38) which classify the identified cases of strong trochaic punctuation. Homoeoteleuta Lennart Håkanson (4) dedicates part of his article to studying the position of the homoeoteleuta in the hexameter, and their relation with the different caesuras of the line (111–12). He considers the possibility that caesuras make homoeoteleuta more tolerable, but he is somewhat sceptical. The placement of the homoeoteleuta in pentameters (113) is also addressed. See on ‘VI.8. Linguistic and Stylistic Details. Homoeoteleuton’.

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Prosodic variation The prosodic variation of the Homeric Ἆρες Ἄρες βροτολοιγέ (Hom. Il. 5.31 = 455) is perhaps the best-known example of what could be called juxtaposed prosodic variants. Neil Hopkinson (5) presents a largely complete catalogue, although not exhaustive, of the phenomenon in both Greek and Latin poetry (understanding juxtaposition correctly as “repetition within four verses or less”). Firstly, he offers  a catalogue of Homeric and Hesiodic examples (24 in total). Three subtypes are identified, although the examples are not classified accordingly (“lengthening of short vowels in arsis by conversion to the corresponding long vowel or by gemination of the following consonant”; “genuine variation of vowel-grade within the root”; “alternative dialectal forms of the same word”). Then examples are given of later Greek poetry, in large part from Hellenistic dactylic poetry, but also some from tragedy. The instances are grouped under the following epigraphs: “same word, variant prosody” (52 examples), “variant forms of same word” (51 examples), “variant prosody before mute + liquid” (12 examples) and “synizesis” (9 examples). Lastly, Hopkinson addresses the phenomenon in Latin poetry, explaining (173) that in Latin the possibilities of prosodic variation were more limited (cf.  Mart. 9.11.13–17), and that Latin poets tried to achieve the same effect through paronomasia and polyptoton. The examples provided by Hopkinson largely come from Ovid, who seems to be the Latin poet most prone to this kind of word-plays, but Hopkinson also provides cases from other authors, from Ennius to Statius. The categories “prosody determined by following word”, “paronomasia”, “variation of mood / tense” and “polyptoton” are added to those previously mentioned. However, in Hopkinson’s paper one misses an assessment of the stylistic and virtuosic value of the phenomenon, which should not be understood, especially in Latin poetry, simply as a metrical license. This shortage has certainly been addressed by Jeffrey Wills in the chapter “21.1. Prosodic Variation” (461–9) of his essential book (14: see in ‘XI.8 Linguistic and Stylistic Details). Furthermore, he presents a better and more complete classification of the restrictions and possibilities of the phenomenon in Latin verse. Additionally, Wills establishes  a satisfactory link between the effects achieved in Latin and in Greek models. Wills’s categories are as follows: “variations in foreign names” (e.g. Ov. Pont. 1.1.33–5 Aenēa – Aenĕaden), “variations arising from Latin phonetic processes” (e.g. Ov. epist. 12.90), “variant syllabication” (e.g. Ov. met. 5.129–30), and “morphological variation” (e.g. Ov. ars 1.84), as well as other categories originated from lengthening by position or in arsi (e.g. Ov. epist. 7.191 Ānnă sŏrōr, sŏrŏr Ānna). Lengthening by position The work by Raphael Dammer (16) examines whether an initial group of two or more consonants can lengthen a final short and open syllable of the previous word (e.g. Catull. 64.186 nullā spes; Tib. 1.5.28 pro segetē spicas; 1.6.34 servarē, frustra). Dammer suggests that this is the rule in Latin poetry. However, in the Classical

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and Augustan period, it is more of an occasional phenomenon, and only became widespread later on, largely from Prudentius onwards (cf. L. Müller, De re metrica, Petropoli et Lipsiae 18942 , 390–1; A. E. Housman, “Prosody and Method”, CQ 21, 1927, 1–3; H. Tränkle, Prudentius, Contra Symmachum, Turnhout 2008, 51–2). In any case, Dammer correctly points out that these types of lengthening virtually never appear in authors such as Virgil or Ovid, who prefer that the last syllable be naturally closed or long. According to Dammer, in Horace’s lyric poetry, and in the Epistulae, the poet also avoids this kind of lengthening by not placing a short open vowel before an initial consonant group (Dammer states that the only two exceptions would be carm. 1.15.17 and 1.30.1, which are a different cases, as already proved by A. E. Housman, “Prosody and Method II. The Metrical Properties of GN”, CQ 22, 1928, 1–10). In Lucretius, in accordance with the data provided by Dammer, an open final short syllable always scans as short, whether it follows muta cum liquida or any other consonantal combination (cf. M. Deufert, Kritischer Kommentar zu Lucrezens De rerum natura, Berlin-Boston 2018, 162 [on Lucr. 3.492–3]). Dammer affirms that Propertius does not use these lengthenings either, as 3.11.53 (bracchiă spectavi), 3.11.67 and 4.4.48 seem to prove. Dammer comments on Virgilian use, focusing on the case of Aen. 11.309 (ponitĕ. spes), and, lastly, passes on to Ovid. The author correctly dismisses the examples of am. 2.6.21 (hebetare smaragdos) and met. 2.24 (lucente smaragdis), since they contain Greek words, and met. 12.438 ( foramina spissus) as an interpolation. Next, he examines some textual variants in Ovid’s work, which have been considered inadequate for metrical reasons (epist. 10.106 beluă stravit; 5.26 litteră scripta; 7.152 regiă sceptra; Pont. 2.10.25 olentiă stagna). But, in light of what Dammer presents, they are metrically feasible. See also Í. Ruiz Arzálluz, “Sobre la productio ob caesuram de sílaba abierta en el hexámetro latino”, Veleia 6, 1989, 281–6; L.  Rivero, “Observaciones críticas a los Medicamina Faciei Femineae de Ovidio”, Emerita 64, 1996, 79–93, 84–7. Dammer concludes his article with  a “Nachsatz” (17–22), in which he studies the articulation of consonantal i and whether it can make position in compound words such as subicere, particularly in post-Augustan poets. Morphological (or metrical?) peculiarities: perfect ending in -iit, future perfect and perfect subjunctive (-eris) The two articles by Marina del Castillo (19, 20) are focused on two morphological and metrical peculiarities, largely linked together. In the first article (19), she looks at perfect forms ending in -iit, whose second i should be short in the Classical period, but which in poetry, especially in Ovid, is usually scanned as long, even though the next word starts with a vowel. The phenomenon has been explained either as restoration of the original quantity, or as a lengthening by metrical reasons, since the lengthened forms almost always appear in arsi, before a caesura or pause. Del Castillo addresses the question by studying the occurrences in classical poetry (lato sensu) of perfect forms ending in -iīt, -iĭt, the position where they appear, and the use of alternative forms in -īvit or -īt. She dismisses the theory that forms in -iīt have been lengthened

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for metrical reasons, or that they can be considered archaisms (forms terminating in -at are indefectibly short if they are followed by a vowel, and perfect forms in -vīt, even if they appear in arsis, are always followed by a consonant). As explanation, the author suggests that forms in -iīt appeared, by analogy of endings in -iit (originally -iīt, but later -iĭt) and the contracted form -īt. It is advisable to contrast the opinion expressed by Gauthier Liberman on various occasions (e.g. in his note on Val. Fl. 8.67: Valerius Flaccus, Argonautiques, Tome II, Chants V–VIII, Paris 2002, 353–4; ExClass 21, 2011, 177 n. 1). Among others, Liberman refers to Lachmann’s note on Lucr. 3.1042. In the second article (20), Del Castillo carries out a more in-depth analysis than her predecessors into the mix of paradigms of the perfect subjunctive (etymologically with -ī-) and the future perfect (originally marked with -ĭ-) in Latin versification. With sound criteria, although her choice is determined by the available material, the author restricts her study to the second person singular and to classical poetry (again, in the wider sense). Del Castillo’s first assertion is that “las formas genuinas de futuro perfecto (-erĭs) predominan sobre de las no genuinas (-erīs), que son evitadas o aparecen aisladamente, excepción hecha de Ovidio y Horacio”. In the case of the subjunctive, the non-genuine form (-erĭs) predominates over the genuine (-erīs), except in the case of Ovid once again. From this, the author concludes that “la épica y Juvenal manifiestan […] una clara preferencia por los finales -erĭs para ambas formas verbales”. But perhaps the most innovative aspect in Del Castillo’s approach is that she attempts to find out whether the lengthening of future perfect forms in -eris, which usually come before  a caesura, are caused by it (some scholars have explained the lengthening so). Among the author’s various arguments against that theory, the most interesting observation is that Ovid – as well as Propertius, Horace and Seneca – even when it follows a consonant, tends to place forms in -eris from both tenses before a caesura (the author supposes that the poet opts for a “determinado cliché métrico o métrico-sintáctico”). On the other hand, the short forms, preferred by other authors, normally appear at the end of the foot. In any case, it should be pointed out that the two options are definitely, at least in part, conditioned by the very same prosodic structure of these verbal forms. “Schlußformen” The thesis of Ruth-Eva Fuchs (1), in spite of its title, studies in the met. what the author refers to as “Schlußformen”. Grosso modo, “Schlußform” is understood as any main clause that finishes at the end of the line, and that is not followed by a dependent clause. Similarly, “Schlußform” is also defined as a subordinate clause which finishes at the end of the line and which is not followed by the corresponding main clause or another subordinate one. Thus, the “Schlußformen” generally coincide with the end of a sensus. The various casuistries which define the “Schlußformen” are listed on 3–9. In order to analyse the “Schlußformen”, other aspects apart from syntax are taken into consideration, such as the position where the “Schlußform” begins, word-order, hyperbaton and enjambement (12–13), pauses (13–16), and metrical patterns (16–17).

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In the main body of the work, taking into consideration the aspects just mentioned, 37 different types of “Schlußformen” are identified and analysed. The first part (32–184) focuses on the two most frequent “Schlußformen” (representing 59.46 % of the cases studied): those which start at the beginning of a line, or at the penthemimeral caesura of the same line in which the “Schlußform” appears. In the long second part (185–463), the remaining 35 “Schlußformen” are discussed. Most chapters include a section about the stylistic implications of each “Schlußform”, depending on the context in which it is likely to appear. These are undoubtedly the most interesting pages of the thesis, for Fuchs tries to go beyond mere statistical calculations (cf. 1–2). Despite all this, I am uncertain whether Fuchs’s study can definitively contribute to improving our stylistic appreciation of the met. In the final part of the thesis, she comments on some dubious “Schlußformen” (464–6), and offers guidelines (467–9) for interpreting the statistical tables which finish off the dissertation (520–6); the work also includes an index rerum (477–88) and an index locorum (489–519). Her reference text is the Teubner edition of 1915 (Ehwald), with some changes in punctuation (3 n. 1, 17).

VII. Sources and Models 1. The Antique Tradition as a Whole 1.  L. Barkan, “Diana and Actaeon: The myth as Synthesis”, English Literary Renaissance 10, 1980, 317–59. 2.  H. Herter, “Die Delphine des Dionysos”, Archaiognosia 1, 1980, 101–34. 3.  A. Paulian, “Ovide et l’Atlantique (L’influence et ses prolongements)”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 57–64 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 4.  N. P. Gross, Amatory Persuasion in Antiquity. Studies in Theory and Practice, Newark-London-Toronto 1985. Reviews: T. Conley, Rhetorica 4, 1986, 424–5; W. R. Nethercut, CO 64, 1986, 30–2; L.  Cahoon, CJ 83, 1988, 274–7; A. H. F. Griffin, CR 38, 1988 56–7; J. P. Sullivan, CW 82, 1988, 141. 5.  W. Speyer, “Spuren der Genesis in Ovids Metamorphosen?”, in U. J. Stache, W. Maaz, F. Wagner (eds.), Kontinuität und Wandel. Lateneische Poesie von Naevius bis Baudeaire. Franco Munari zum 65. Geburtstag, Hildesheim 1986, 90–9. 6.  E. M. Fracchia, “The Mourning Niobe Motif in South Italian Art”, EMC 31, 1987, 199–208. 7.  E. Fantham, “Metamorphoses before the Metamorphoses: A Survey of Transformations Before Ovid”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 7–18. 8.  D. C. Feeney, The Gods in Epic: Poets and Critics of the Classical Tradition, Oxford 1991. Reviews: M. Dewar, CR 42, 1992, 61–3; J. H. Gaisser, BMCR 3, 1992, 109–12; F. Graf, MH 49, 1992, 269; P. Hardie, JRS 82, 1992, 252–6; B. Rochette, LEC 60, 1992, 368; M. West, TLS 4645, 1992, 12; C. R. Beye, CW 86, 1992/93, 176; M. Putnam, NECN 20, 1992/93, 35–6; A.  Ward, CO 70, 1992/93, 73–4; W.  Dominik, Prudentia 25, 1993, 78–81; J. J. O’Hara, Vergilius 36, 1993, 87–96; B.  Pavlock, CPh 88, 1993, 251–4; P.  Toohey, Phoenix 47, 1993, 270–2; T. Yamashita, JCS 41, 1993, 110–13. 9.  M. Helzle, “Ovid’s Cosmogony: Metamorphoses 1.5–88 and the traditions of ancient poetry”, PLLS 7, 1993, 123–34. 10.  B. Arkins, “Greek Myth in Latin Poetry”, SyllClass 5, 1994, 12–28. 11.  J. Heath, “The failure of Orpheus”, TAPhA 124, 1994, 163–96. 12.  *G. Wöhrle, Hypnos, der Allbezwinger. Eine Studie zum literarischen Bild des Schlafes in der griechischen Antike, Stuttgart 1995 (Palingenesia 53). Reviews: M.-C. Leclerc, REA 99, 1997, 215; P. Somville, AC 66, 1997, 530; P. W. van der Horst, Mnemosyne 51, 1998, 760. 13.  M. Negri, “La Chimera nella poesia latina d’età aurea: alcuni rilievi icono­ grafici”, Athenaeum 85, 1997, 449–70.

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14.  S. Hinds, Allusion and Intertext: Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Cambridge 1998 (Roman Literature and Its Contexts). Reviews: M. Gale, G&R 46, 1998, 239–40; R. Lyne, TLS 4975, 1998, 30; C. Nappa, BMCR 98.9.8; G. Conte, JRS 89, 1999, 217–20; M. Lowrie, CW 92, 1999, 384–5; P. A. Miller, CPh 94, 1999, 351–5; J. J. O’Hara, CR 49, 1999, 97–8; P. Tordeur, AC 68, 1999, 395; G. Tronchet, REA 101, 1999, 226–8; J. E. G. Zetzel, Phoenix 53, 1999, 171–3; S. Raimondi, Faventia 22, 2000, 165–7; A.  Deremetz, Latomus 60, 2001, 783–4; B.  Mota, Euphrosyne 30, 2002, 449–50; M.  Negri, Athenaeum 90, 2002, 301–3. 15.  R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, “Ovidio, receptor  e innovador en las Metamorfosis”, in J. L. Vidal, A. A. Ezquerra (eds.), IX Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos (Madrid, 27 al 30 de septiembre de 1995), Madrid 1998, V, 117–21. 16.  D. E. Chazarreta, “Significación genésica del mito de Narciso: hacia una clarificación de sus fuentes grecolatinas”, Synthesis 6, 1999, 79–98. 17.  P. K. Galinsky, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Augustan Cultural Thematics”, in P.  Hardie, A.  Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations: Essays on the «Metamorphoses» and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 103–11. 18.  M. Robinson, “Salmacis and Hermaphroditus: When Two Become One (Ovid, Met. 4.285–388)”, CQ 49, 1999, 212–23. 19.  F. Frontisi-Ducroux, “Figures du temps: la métamorphose”, in C.  DarboPeschanski (ed.), Constructions du temps dans le monde grec ancien, Paris 2000, 49–63. 20.  D. Felton, J. D. Miller, “Truth-inducement in Greek Myth”, SyllClass 13, 2002, 104–25. 21.  R. Jiménez Zamudio, “El tema del diluvio en Ovidio y sus precedentes en las literaturas orientales”, CFC(L) 22, 2002, 399–428. 22.  A. M. Keith, “Sources and Genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2002, 235–69. 23.  A. Mª Martín Rodríguez, De Aedón a Filomela. Génesis, sentido y comentario de la versión ovidiana del mito, Las Palmas de Gran Canaria 2002. Reviews: C. González Vázquez, RELat 3, 2003, 222–5; P. Tordeur, AC 72, 2003, 395; Mª C. García Fuentes, CFC(L) 24, 2004, 340–2; S. A. Georgacopoulou, RPh 78, 2004, 386–7; S. Viarre, Latomus 65, 2006, 230–1. 24.  Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “Cruce de géneros en las Metamorfosis: Medea entre la épica y la tragedia”, in A. López López, A. Pociña Pérez, Medeas. Versiones de un mito desde Grecia hasta hoy, Granada 2002, I, 411–45. 25.  *M. Bettini, E. Pellizer, Il mito di Narciso. Immagini e racconti dalla Grecia a oggi, Torino 2003. Reviews: M. Ressel Giordani, BMCR 2003.09.21; E. Martín González, Minerva 19, 2006, 348–50.

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26.  A. Cameron, Greek Mythography in the Roman World, Oxford 2004. Reviews: E.  Federico, IncidAntico 3, 2005, 229–33; F.  Mora, Polifemo 5, 2005, 42–3; S. Trzaskoma, BMCR 2005.09.20; J. J. Clauss, CPh 101, 2006 295–9; K. F.  Fletcher, CJ 101, 2006, 111–13; T. S. Scheer, Sehepunkte 6.4, 2006, sine pag.; P. V. Stanley, Vergilius 52, 2006, 235–40; B. Cowan, JHE 127, 2007, 172–3; S. D. Smith, IJCT 15, 2009, 127–35. 27.  A. Suter, “The myth of Prokne and Philomela”, NECJ 31, 2004, 377–86. 28.  J. Barringer, “Alkamenes’ Prokne and Itys in Context”, in J. M. Barringer, J. M. Hurwit (eds.), Periklean Athens and Its Legacy. Problems and Perspectives, Austin 2005, 163–76. 29.  K. S. Myers, “Italian Myth in Metamorphoses 14: themes and patterns”, Hermathena 177/178, 2004/05, 91–112. 30.  A. Filippetti, “Il linguaggio della peste: la centralità di Ovidio”, Belfagor 61, 2006, 403–19. 31. U. Schmitzer, P.  Fleischmann, “iunctae solacia mortis und una in urna (Ov. met. 5,73 und 11,706). Beiträge zur Geschichte eines nicht nur elegischen Topos”, Gymnasium 116, 2006, 529–45. 32.  G. O. Hutchinson, “The Monster and the Monologue: Polyphemus from Homer to Ovid”, in P. J. Finglass, C.  Collard, N. J. Richardson (eds.), Hesperos: Studies in Ancient Greek Poetry Presented to M. L. West on his Seventieth Birthday, Oxford-New York 2007, 22–39. 33.  J. X. Loos, “How Ovid Remythologizes Greek Astronomy in Metamorphoses 1.747–2.400”, Mnemosyne 61, 2008, 257–89. 34.  G. Rosati, “Le Metamorfosi di Ovidio, un’epica del desiderio”, in R. Uglione (ed.), Atti del convegno nazionale di studi Arma virumque cano… L’epica dei Greci e dei Romani (Torino, 23–24 aprile 2007), Alessandria 2008, 139–57. 35.  D. Creese, “Erogenous Organs: The Metamorphosis of Polyphemus’ ‘Syrinx’ in Ovid Metamorphoses 13.784”, CQ 59, 2009, 562–77. 36.  *A. Hadravová, “Antická inspirace středověkých zoologických popisů: Memnonidae  – Memnonovi ptáci [Antike Anregung für zoologische Beschriebung im Mittelalter: Memnonidae – Memnons Vögel]”, SPFB(klas) 14, 2009, 93–111. 37.  G. Salvo, “Ovidio e la cultura figurativa di età augustea: il mito di Niobe tra arte e letteratura”, Eidola 6, 2009, 69–112. 38.  J. A. Sánchez Marín, “Europa”, in A.  Pociña Pérez, J. Mª. García González (eds.), En Grecia y Roma III: Mujeres Reales y Ficticias, Granada 2009, 515–35. 39.  D. A. Secci, “Ovid Met. 9.1–97: Through the Eyes of Achelous”, G&R 56, 2009, 34–54. 40.  D. Briquel, “Romulus, le feu et l’eau”, in D. Briquel, C. Février, C. Guittard (eds.), Varietates Fortunae. Religion et mythologie à Rome. Hommage à Jacqueline Champeaux, Paris 2010, 225–50.

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41.  S. E. Lake, Literary parody in Ovid’s «Metamorphoses», Diss. Fordham Univ., New York 2010. 42. Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “Contexto femenino de Meleagro y Hércules en las Metamorfosis: Comentario literario y mitográfico”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 247–70. 43. J. X. Loos, “Scorpios Breaks Cover at Ovid Metamorphoses 2.138–40”, Mnemo­syne 65, 2012, 488–94. 44.  R. Matuszewski, “Der unsterbliche Geliebte des Zeus: über die göttlichen Anfänge der menschlichen Liebe”, AW 4, 2013, 81–4. In this section we bring together a series of works which offer a general image of how Ovid, the met., and certain myths narrated therein, are interconnected with various authors, multiple texts, and other artistic expressions from antiquity. Agnès Paulian (3) presents a study of several passages from the corpus Ovidianum containing references to the Atlantic Ocean and its coasts. She frequently quotes verses from Homer and from various pre- and post-Ovidian authors (e.g. Caes., Verg., Sen. the Elder, epic poets of the Imperial era, Mart. etc.) to show the richness and variety of expressions used by the poet when writing about this ocean. Brian Arkins (10) examines the ways in which Latin poets (Catull., Verg., Prop., Ov.) make use of Greek myths, appropriating them to serve their own specific purposes and to deliver their own individual messages. The essay is structured around four themes: the presence of myths in the cosmogony (Verg. ecl. 6, Ov. met. 1; p. 19); the use of Greek myth to validate personal experience and to represent a human situation (Catull. 68b, Prop. 1.1., 1.3, 2.14; pp. 19–21); the myths of Apollo Citharoedus and their relation with recusatio and the Alexandrian tradition (esp. in Catull.; pp. 22–3); and myth in narrative poetry, including both miniature and full-scale epic (23–7). In this last section, Arkins discusses poems by Catullus and Ovid’s miniature epics, emphasising Ovid’s original and innovative treatment of myth. He elaborates on the commentary of the stories of Byblis and Caunus (met. 9), and Ceyx and Alcyone (met. 11; pp. 25–7). Elaine Fantham (7) offers an analysis of the different types of transformation myths found in Greek (esp. Hom., Hymn. Hom. Bacch., Hymn. Hom. Cer., Hellenistic poets: Call., Nic., Boios) and Latin poetry (Catull., Verg.), as well as painted on the cup by Exekias (530 bce) and on a Greek vase belonging to the Toledo Museum of Art in Ohio. Her comparison with Ovidian stories gives “the impression that the poet of Sulmona came late in the evolution of the genre” (17). Françoise Frontisi-Ducroux (19) explores the modes of expression of certain metamorphosis myths on Attic, Etruscan and Italiote vases and in texts (e.g. Hom., Hymn. Hom. Bac., Nic., Ov., Ant. Lib.). The Greek images and texts do not concern themselves with depicting metamorphosis as it develops. However, the depictions on the Italiote vases (4th c. bce)  do indeed portray the duration and stages of the transformation, thereby proving the innovations which are not found in pre-Ovidian

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texts: the Roman poet was the first to reproduce a metamorphosis in all its stages, taking into account the visual tastes of his contemporaries. Alison Keith (22) studies the stylistic and thematic polyphony in the first five books of met. and how it plays with source and genre. The most notable intertexts originate from heroic epic (Hom., Hes., Emped., Arat., Nic. Enn., Lucr., Verg.), hymns (Hymn. Hom., Call.), elegy (Call.), and tragedy (E., Pac.). In the chapter “Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (188–249) Denis Feeney (8) examines multiple passages of the Ovidian epic. In section 1 (188–205), the scholar focuses on the relation between gods and men, and on their principal similarities and differences. Section 2 (205–24) is dedicated to the apotheoses, through which Feeney delves deeper into Roman cult and religion, and on the analogies between Roman rulers (especially Caesar and Augustus) and gods. Lastly, section 3 (224–49) looks at issues of fiction and authentication in am. 3.12 and in met., and at gods as “the hardest case for Ovid’s fictional power” (232). Feeney discusses moments of phantasia and the use of personification allegory. He often alludes to stylistic allegiance (epic world vs. neoteric art), to Ovid’s predecessors (e.g. Hom., Hes., Prod., A. R., Verg., to whom our poet sometimes approaches, and from whom, at other times, he distances himself), and to those authors upon whom he had a certain influence (Stat., Val. Fl.). Georg Wöhrle (12) focuses his work on the presence of dreams in Greek (from Hom. to Nonn.) and Latin authors (Lucr., Verg., Ov., Plin. the Elder, Stat.). He explores the depiction of dreams in myth, how they are interpreted in philosophy, and their role in daily life. In chapter 6 (78–84), the author examines the way in which Ovid, Statius, Lucian and Nonnos embellish the myth of Hypnos / Somnus from a literary point of view. Stephen Hinds (14) presents his book as a “study of allusion … within an excitingly enlarged universe of intertexts”. It consists of five chapters, in each of which, bar the third, passages from met. are mentioned. Chapter 1 (1–16) is devoted to Alexandrian footnotes and other types of signposting which are more fully integrated into its narrative contexts. In chapter 2 (17–51) he tries to distinguish between allusion or ‘reference’, and ‘accidental confluence’, and between allusion and topos or commonplace. Here, in the commentary about the ‘many mouths’ topos, is where Ovid comes up (43–45). Chapter 4 (99–122) takes as its departure point the premise that poets are “tendencious readers” (99). Hinds analyses met. 13.623–14.582 and the Aen. in its entirety as a “tour de force of intertextual repetition and change” which is useful to “explore some of the highways and by-ways of allusive tendentiousness” (104). Lastly, in chapter 5 (123–44) with the analysis of Stat. Ach., he attempts to show that the authors “use allusion to redescribe (the) tradition” (123). For the allusions to Ovid, vid. esp. 138–40. Iglesias and Álvarez (15) show how Ovid introduces into met. phrases, situations and descriptions from his models, in completely different contexts. The authors note specific passages from met. and point out their debt to Homeric epic, tragedy (A., S., E.), Greek comedy (Ar.), Call., A. R., Latin dramatists (Pl., Ter., Enn. Scaen., Acc.), Catull., and the Virgilian oeuvre. In many cases they draw attention to links

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between all these models (118–21), finally pointing out Ovid’s conscious anachronisms, caused by including contemporary elements (121). Karl Galinsky (17) notes some commonalities between met. and elements of Augustan culture: government, religion, paintings, architecture, and urbanology. The desire for change during this period provides an ideal context for the topic of metamorphosis, and for modernizing myths as Ovid proposes. This combination of models and sources found in the Latin poet’s epic, in addition to the emphasis on individual episodes, is also a tendency and a compositional trend of Augustan art. Additionally, Galinsky establishes similarities between Ovid and Augustus himself, thanks to their “unifying role” (111). Alan Cameron (26) dedicates chapter 10 (253–303) of his book to examining mythological allusions in the Roman poets, of which the vast majority deal with Ovid (261–303). In “Ovid’s lists” (261–8), Cameron defends the use of mythographic handbooks for developing various Ovidian passages (am. 3.6; met. 6.103–22, 221–61, 8.300–17, 3.206–25) and  a paradoxographical source for met. 15.60–478. In the following section, “The Metamorphoses: sources” (268–74), the author mentions ­probable adaptations that the poet makes to his sources so that the stories fit together in  a particular context. Without ruling out the possible influence of Hellenistic authors, he claims that mythographers would refer Ovid to detailed and literary accounts by poets and local historians. Then, in “The Metamorphoses: structure” (274–86), the contribution of mythographers to the organisation of met. is reconsidered: they supplied Ovid with a mass of information that he could use in a variety of ways. In addition, Cameron also considers the influence of authors from other genres such as Hesiod, Castor of Rhodes, Ennius and Diodorus. He finishes the chapter (286–303) by examining the Anonymus Florentinus and its relationship with Ovid: the poet was influenced by this work, or rather the fuller, earlier text, probably by a Hellenistic mythographer. Felton and Miller (20) examine scenes from classical mythology in relation to ‘game theory’: “a sub-field of economics that often deals with truth-telling and truth-inducement” (104). The myths presented illustrate five methods of inducing the truth: asymmetric price increase (biblical tale of Solomon and the baby from I King 3–4, Hyg. fab. 95; pp. 105–7), surprise (Hyg. fab. 96, Hom. Od. 4.274–89; pp. 107–10), deception (Ov. met. 8.628–91, 7.661–862; Hyg. fab. 189, Ant. Lib. 41; pp, 110–13), impossibility (Hom. Od. 21 – Odysseus’ bow –, Od. 23.177–217, Ov. met. 1.220–5, Hymn. Hom. Bacch., E. Ba.; pp. 113–17), and credible threat (Hyg. fab. 95, Apollod. 3.6–7, Lucianus Dom. 30, Sen. Tro. 482–1103; 118–22). Gianpiero Rosati (34, 152–3) gives a brief recap of literary and iconographic tradition (Sapph. Ode to Aphrodite 21; Thgn. 1283–94, 1299–1304; Call. AP 12.102.5–6; Lucr. 4.1094–1104, Hor. carm. 1.33; painted Attic vases from the 5th c. bce) of the ‘persecution / fleeing’ narrative outline and of the amorous asymmetry in the relations between gods and mortal women or nymphs, both of which themes are also present in met. Schmitzer and Fleischmann (31) study the topos of the shared grave as  a final solace after the death – whether real or imaginary – of a loved one or partner. The

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topos refers back to Patroclus’ request for his ashes to be with those of Achilles (Hom. Il. 23, Od. 24.74). Their review includes Greek evidence, especially taken from tragedy, inscriptions and epigrams, as well as passages from Latin literature (Prop. 2.8, 4.7; Ov. ars 3; Epic. Drusi 163) (529–35). Afterwards they examine the appearance of this topos in met.: Ovid offers many new variations to adapt to the narrative requirements of his poem (535–9). They also show how the topic endures in authors posterior to Ovid (Sen., Sil., Mart., Suet.) and in the carmina epigraphica. Although not exhaustively, the authors show proof of its survival on Christian tombs, as well as in works by Shakespeare, Balzac, E. Zola, N. Kazantzakis and K. Mays, and a tragic event which featured Crown Prince Rudolf of Habsburg (539–45). Now we move on from general themes to works which discuss a specific passage or book of met. Martin Helzle (9) affirms that Ovid in his cosmogony “makes a statement of fact about the place of the Metamorphoses in the literary tradition” (130). He aligns himself with the Roman followers of Callimachus, with Callimachus himself, and with Hesiod. Helzle sets forth the similarities between these Ovidian verses and Verg. ecl. 6, which Ovid uses as the basis for his own collection of mythical tales; and the parallels in structure between met. and Hes. Th.: both works start with the creation. In the cosmogony he also detects the influence of Lucretian vocabulary and tone, as well as Orpheus’ song in A. R. 1.496–8, 512–15. Additionally, Helzle shows the presence of Alexandrian learning and other Callimachean associations (etymological word-play, metonymies, the technique of multiple allusion…) in these first verses of met. Wolfgang Speyer (5) establishes similarities in content and structure between various tales in met. 1 (the ages of man, the battle of the giants, Lycaon, the flood, Deucalion and Pyrrha) and Genesis. Speyer looks at other traditions in which floods are described (Varro, De gente populi Romani; the Greek myth of Ogygos; Peisander of Laranda, Ἡρωικαὶ θεογαμίαι) and supposes that Ovid had contact, whether direct or indirect, with Jewish scriptures (95). He even considers the possibility that Ovid was inspired by a book by a Greek Jew (93). The concept of met. as “ein universalgeschichtliches Gedicht” also coincides with the general plan of the Old Testament (94–5). Rafael Jiménez Zamudio (21) compares the version of the flood myth in met. ­1.253–312 with versions in other literatures: Gn. 6.5–9.18, fragments of Sumerian cuneiforms texts, Akkadian texts (Atramhasis, tablet XI of the Poem of Gilgamesh in its ninevite version), and texts of the Babylonian priest Berossus (3rd c. bce). The author establishes parallels and differences between the various stories from the analysis of these basic themes: the causes of the flood (403–5), the decision of the gods (405–11), the communication between god and man before the flood (411–3), ways of surviving the disaster (413–16), the survivors (416–17), the prolegomenon of the flood and its effects (417–23), and the end of the flood (423–5). He concludes that the myth of the flood must have its origin in southern Mesopotamia, and briefly traces its possible diffusion. It seems that Ovid was inspired by Greek tradition, and in his story we can clearly observe an erudite and literary intention (425–6). Nicolas Gross (4), in the second chapter of his work (32–68), offers a review of the rhetoric of seduction, analysing fragments of Hom. Il. and Od. (33–45), E. IA (45–50),

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Ar. Ec. (50–4), Theocr. id. 2 (54–8), Catull. 32 (58–60), Hor. carm. 1.23 (61–2) and Ov. met. 1.504–24 (62–5). Regarding the last passage, he concludes that “[n]ot only does Ovid succeed in mocking his speaker but by deliberate misapplication of rhetorical commonplace he mocks the entire tradition of the seduction address” (65). In the Phaethon episode (met. 2), Jaap Loos (33) examines the representation of the firmament, the orders which the Sun gives to the boy, and the moment when these are disobeyed. He notes a remythologisation of Hellenistic astronomy, especially of Gem. Isag. 12, and furthermore points out parallels with other authors: Aratus and his system of four circles (Phaen. 525–8), Hyginus, Manilius and Nonnus. Finally, the author offers some viewpoints that could defend the presence of Phaethon’s catasterismus in met., based on Ov. am. 3.12.31, 37; Hyg. astr. 2.42.1324–7 and Claudian VI Cons. Hon. 172. Loos complements this work with a subsequent one (43) where he reexamines the orientation of dexterior (met. 2.138) and sinisterior (2.139) in an attempt to determine what is meant by inter utrumque (2.140). Again he illustrates his study with passages from Arat., Gem., Hyg., Man. and Nonn. According to José Sánchez Marín (38), two interpretations exist of the story of Europe / Europa: historical and geographical (as shown in aetiological stories), and literary (as expressed in the myth about her abduction). This premise allows Sánchez Marín to carry out a review of the various texts and authors, both Greek and Latin (e.g. Hom., Hymn. Hom. Cer., Hes., Hdt., Mosch., Catull., Verg., Hor., Ov.), which portrayed Europe / Europa, whether the land mass or the girl. He finishes with an explanation of poems by Spanish authors (16th–20th c.) dedicated to the famous kidnapping. Leonard Barkan (1) writes an extensive article about the Diana and Actaeon myth. He starts by examining the Ovidian version and its context within the poem: met. 3 (318–22), and then considers other literary (Stesich. apud Paus. 9.2.4, Call. Lav. Pall., D. S. 4.81.4–5, Apollod. 3.4.4, Nonn. D. 5.287–551) and iconographic variants (three cups from the 6th to 5th c. bce). Barkan claims that “[t]he written record of the myth in antiquity shows the same tendency to combine versions of the story that are not always, strictly speaking, compatible” (326). Next, he considers the attitude of mythographers from antiquity (Palaeph. De Incredibilibus 6, Fulg. Myth. 3.3) and the Middle Ages towards this story (326–30). These scholars try to rationalise the myth: “They concern themselves primarily with moral lessons based on the assumption that Actaeon is a real-life character in their own societies” (326). The article continues by exploring the presence of this tale in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. Daniela Chazarreta (16) analyses the sources of the Narcissus story: Conon 134b.28–30 (80–2), Paus. 9.31 (82–4) and Ov. met. 3 (84–90). Then she compares them, while seeking the significance of the myth in the ancient cultural imagination (91–4). The monograph about Narcissus by Bettini and Pellizer (25) consists of three sections: the re-narration of the myth by Bettini;  a detailed analysis of the myth in a historical, philological and anthropological essay; and a gallery of pictures with concise explanations. In his study, Pellizer gives an account of the main sources of the Narcissus tale: Conon, Ov., Verg., Hyg., Stat., Lact. Plac., Philostr., Callistr., Auson., Plot., Vib. Seq., the Narrationes Ovidianae, Mithographus Vaticanus II, the

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rhetor Severus, the Suda, Plan., Boccaccio and Dante. Then he alludes to different elaborations of the myth by authors from the 14th–20th c. Hans Herter (2) shows the development of the Tyrrhenian sailors myth (met. 3), in both literary and artistic terms (the frieze on the monument of Lysikrates). In his review of the ample bibliography of works examining the subject, he refers to numerous texts and authors who either related, or referred to, the myth or the god featured therein (e.g. Hymn. Hom. Bacch.; Aglaosthenes; E. Cyc., Ba.; a possible lost Hellenistic text; Pac.; Acc.; Prop. 3.17.25; Hyg. fab. 134, astr. 2.17; Sen.; Apollod. 3.37 f.; Lucianus D. Mar. 8.1, salt. 22; Opp. H. 1.656 ff.; Porph. Abst. 3.16; Nonn. D.; Serv.) and establishes parallels, differences, and possible influences that they exert on each other. Matthew Robinson (18) cites a wide range of epigraphic, literary and iconographic evidence in which Salmacis and Hermaphroditus are mentioned (212–17). He focuses on the vocabulary employed by these sources to describe various aspects of effeminacy and sexual connotations, thereby clarifying the background to this episode so that he can examine it later in met. 4. The main objective of the dissertation by Sean Edward Lake (41) is to show how Ovid transforms the Perseid myth (met. 4.607–5.249) into a parody of the Aeneid, adapting his sources in order to criticise the way that Perseus and other figures from this myth are used by Augustus. For this section of our book, chapter 1 is of particular interest (17–65): it contains a summary of the most common variants in the traditional Perseus myth (19–21), a review of Ovid’s version and its structure (22–9), and an overview of Ovid’s non-parodied sources (29–65). In this last section, Lake examines texts and fragments which focus on the exploits of Perseus, or which allude to them in some way. The review is organised into the following sections: early Greek hexameter and lyric (30–5); Greek and Roman tragedy (35–44); prose and scholia (esp. Pherecyd., Apollod., Eratosth.; 45–50); Old Comedy (50–1); Polyidos (51–2); Middle and New Comedy (53); A. R. (54–7); Lyc. and other Hellenistic sources (57–61); and Roman poetry (61–5). In terms of most of the texts, Lake affirms that we cannot be sure if they were used as inspiration for Ovid, or to what extent; and he asserts that “Euripides’s Andromeda, Polyidos fr. 837, and Apollonius’s Argonautica are the only extant sources to which Ovid makes definite allusions outside of his parody” (18). Helena Fracchia (6) analyses the presence of the Niobe motif in the art of southern Italy (esp. in vases). She points out differences between the Greek and Latin representations, both literary (A. Niobe, Ov. met. 6) and artistic. The Greeks emphasise hybris and the divine reaction, while the southern Italian artists stress the pathos of Niobe and foreshadow the Ovidian portrayal. In this way, the author shows how “[t]he Mourning Niobe motif is only one example of the thematic changes in myth and its usage which can occur in the transmission of Hellenism from Greece through Southern Italy to Rome” (204). The article by Giulia Salvo (37) also looks at the myth of Niobe and is structured into five sections, starting with  a review of this tale in met. 6 (90–7). Next she comments on the literary tradition of the myth, esp. Hom. Il. 24, Parth. 33, Apollod. 3.5.6 and Hyg. fab. 9, although she also refers to E., S.,

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Pherecyd., Hellanic., Tim., Palaeph., Herodor., D. S., and Anthologia Palatina, among others (97–9). Salvo continues with an exploration of iconographic tradition from the 5th c. bce to the 3rd c. ce: the frieze on the throne of Zeus in Olympia; the group of sculptures depicting Niobe’s dying children (Uffizi di Firenze); the marble roundel with the killing of the Niobids (British Museum, London); vascular production of Magna Grecia; and sarcophagi from the 2nd c. bce (99–103). In the next section she discusses the Ovidian tale in relation to Pompeian paintings and contemporary sculpture, concluding that it is highly possible that the poet was inspired these types of representation (103–8). Finally, Salvo reflects on Apollo and the Niobe myth in Augustan propaganda (108–9). Antonio Martín (23) offers  a monograph about the myth of Tereus, Procne and Philomela. In the preface (15–29) he gives a summary of the version in met. 6, Apollod. 14.8 and Hyg. fab. 45, and he lists the main differences between these and the Ovidian tale. Next he gathers together the interpretations of this myth offered by scholars. In the second chapter (31–106) Martín analyses the supposed origin of the myth, presumably related to the aetiological narrations about the nightingale, and its evolution from  a diatopic and diachronic perspective: Hom. Od. 19.518 ff.; Theban, Megaric and Attic-Phocian versions; Athenian classic theatre (allusions and mentions made by A. and E.; S. Tereus; the tetralogy by Philocl.; Carc. Tereus; the parodies of Ar.; fragments of Canthar., Anaxandr. and Philetaer.); Ant. Lib. 11; Corpus Anacreonticum 10 and 22; Liv. Andr. Tereus: references in the work of Pl., Acc. Tereus; learned references of pre-Augustan (Varr., Catull.) and Augustan authors (Verg., App. Verg., Hor., Prop., the elegiac Ovid). The final chapter (107–265) focuses on the version from met. 6: Martín looks at the structure, stylistic and rhetorical resources, narrative technique, characterisation of the figures, parallels between various passages of this tale, and between this and other episodes of met., and the intertextual relations with the versions of the myth mentioned previously. Ann Suter (27) compares literary and iconographic versions of the Philomela and Procne story: Hom. Od. 19.518–24; Hes. Op. 568–70, fr. 312, Sapph. fr. 135; three cups (one of Corinthian manufacture, one fragment in Basel, and one in the Louvre); and Ov. met. 6.424–674. All these demonstrate that the male characters are of minor importance in this tale. Suter believes that this myth originates from others which focus on the control of female fertility, or which look at the women and their rivalry over fertility. Then the focus shifts “to the importance of who controls and enjoys it” (381). Judith Barringer (28) carries out an in-depth study into the sculptural group of Procne and Itys by Alkamenes (Akropolis Museum 1358, Athens). Her commentary includes a description of the work, along with thoughts about various topics: its date, its location in context of the Acropolis, the feelings experienced by a contemporary Athenian on seeing it, the mythological, religious, historic and cultural context, and its possible meaning and interpretation (esp. 168–73). Barringer also mentions various literary and artistic versions of the myth, and points out common elements and the variants introduced by authors. She affirms that “Ovid, in Metamorphoses 6.587–674, adds that the murder of Itys took place during Bacchic rites” (165), a setting which seems familiar to Alkamenes (166).

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Álvarez Morán and Iglesias Montiel (24), in their first pages (411–17), provide a panoramic view of Medea through mythographic and poetic texts (Hes. Theog. 956–62, 992–9; Paus. 2.3.10; Schol. Pi. O. 13; FGrHist 32 F1b = Schol. 3.240; Fr. 4 Kinkel; Pi. P. 4, Apollod. 1.9.23; Ov. trist. 3.9.27–32, epist. 6.129) which allows them to examine the biography and evolution of the character. In the next section (417–45) they show that the Medea of met. 7 is a combination of epic (A. R. 3) and tragic Medea (esp. E. Med.), with additions from other genres, such as love poetry. The commentary encompasses from when the young girl falls in love (met. 7.9) until her escape after killing her children (7.397). The rapid denouement (met. 7.394–7) is justified by the fact that Ovid had already been inspired by the ending of Medea’s tragic story to tell of Procne’s infanticide (met. 6.609–42). They frequently point out the influence of specific works on certain episodes: for example, they detect traces of S. Rhizotomoi (Root-cutters), Verg. Aen. 5.77–9, ecl. 7.70 and Hes. fr. 304 M-W in the sequence when Medea practices magic (426–37); and the influence of the Returns and of the satirical drama Nurses of Dionysus by Aeschylus on the rejuvenation of Aeson (425, 436–7). Andrea Filippetti (30) uses Ovid’s description of the plague of Aegina (met. 7.523– 613) to look at the literary topos of plague, and to study the lexicon (formulas and words) and the semantic evolution through the following passages: Thuc. 2.47–54, Lucr. 6.1090–286, Verg. georg. 3.440–566, Aen. 3.137–42, Sen. Oed. 29, Luc. 6.101, Sil. 14.582, Val. Fl. 5.15, hippocratic and medical writing. These texts exerted certain influence over subsequent authors such as Galen, Isidore of Seville, Girolamo Fracastoro, Giuseppe Rapamonti and Alessandro Manzoni. Álvarez Morán and Iglesias Montiel (42) offer  a mythographical analysis and literary commentary on the stories of Meleager and Hercules (met. 8–9) through their various sources: Hom., Pi., B., Greek tragedy (E. Heracl., S. Trach.), Hellenistic poets (A. R., Ps.-Mosch. Megara, Nic.), and tragic Latin poets (Pac. Atalanta; Acc. Meleager). Their commentary focuses on what they deem “contexto femenino” (270), which is another element of Ovid’s alternative epic. Davide Secci (39) examines met. 9.1–97, showing how Ovid interweaves tragic events (S. Tr. 6–19) with epic references and connotations (Hom. Il., Theoc. id. 22, A. R., Verg. Aen.). For example, the vestiges of epic can be seen, through the similes and their structure, in the themes of boasting and the confrontation between men and gods, in the fight itself, and in the topos of the reluctant warrior shamed into fighting. Secci also reflects on Achelous’ role as epic narrator, on his minimal fighting prowess, and on the sporting context in which the whole fight is rooted. He frequently points out the parodic and mocking tone, which is not limited to Achelous as a character but is aimed at the epic world in general. Monica Negri (13) looks at the iconographic models of the Chimera in figurative arts, and in numerous passages of Greek and Latin poetry (1st c. bce to 1st c. ce). The commentary focuses mainly on Lucr. 2.705, Verg. Aen. 7.785 ff. and Lygd. 3.4.86, passages which examine the capacity of the Chimera to spew out fire; and on Lucr. 5.905, Ov. met. 9.647–8 and trist. 4.7.13, where the elements of which this monster is made up are emphasised. In terms of met. worth noting is the previously unknown description of the Chimera, whose three elements are fire, which bursts forth from

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its body, the lion and the serpent. Thus the Sulmonan poet would have been inspired by an alternative model to the three-part beast in Hom. Il. 6.179–82 and Hes. Th. 319–25: his concept harks back, therefore, to a rare and learned iconography (453–8). John Heath (11) presents a re-examination of all the relevant passages which make reference to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, in order to show that “there is no compelling reason to assume that Orpheus ever returned to the world of light with his wife” (164). The discussion includes artistic (Attic red-figured vases from the 5th c. bce, whose painters depicted Orpheus’ death) and literary evidence (Phanocl. fr. 1 Powell, Verg. georg. 4.507 ff., Ov. met. 10.78 ff., 11.1 ff. – in these three passages Orpheus’ failure, just as he gets Eurydice back, is related to his death –; E.  Alc. esp. ll. 357–62, Pl. Smp. 179b-180b, Isoc. Busiris 11.7–8, Hermesian. apud Ath. Deipn. 597b-599b = fr. 7 Powell, Verg. Aen. 6.116–20, Ps.-Mosch. Epit. Bion. 122–6, D. S. 4.25.4, Lucianus D. Mort. 23.3, among others). Rafal Matuszewski (44) traces the presence of the Ganymedes myth in ancient literature (esp. Hom. Il., Hymn. Hom. Ven., Corpus Theognideum, Verg. Aen., Ov. met. 10) and in the artistic world (fresco by Anton Raphael Meng and Giovanni Casanova, Galleria Nazionale di Roma, ca. 1758; clay sculpture, Museo Arqueológico de Olympia, ca. 470 bce; and red-figure krater by the Berliner Painter, Louvre Museum). Lastly he relates the Ganymedes tale to rites of passage that exist in Greek culture. Gregory Hutchinson (32) analyses the reception of Homeric Polyphemus in Greek (he mentions Anacr., Ibyc., E. Cyc., Ar. V., Antisth., Arist., Philox.; and offers a more in-depth study of Theocr. id. 6 and 11) and Latin literature (Verg. ecl. 2, Aen. 3; Ov. met. 13–14), in Roman art (31–2), and in Händel’s masque Acis and Galatea (36–9), to show that “[i]n the tradition of the Cyclops intertextuality, staging, ima­ gery, communication, narratology combine to create a complex process of reception” (35). The intertextual and the narratological complexity of Ovid’s version are notable: “Ovid’s Metamorphoses confront (with complications) the Theocritean and Homeric Polyphemi, and two forms of Virgilian epos, across books 13 and 14. Intertextuality and narratology have reached an extreme of complexity” (32). David Creese (35) analyses the transformations suffered by the cyclops in met. 13, in terms of the image which has been presented of this monster in different genres and by different authors (Hom. Od., E. Cyc., Philox., Theocr. id. 6 and 7, Verg. Aen., Hsch.), focusing on the musical metamorphosis. Alena Hadravová (36) quotes many works of ancient Greek and Latin literature which tell the story of Memnon, or in which the character is mentioned: for example Ov. met. 13.576–619; Hyg. fab. 112 and 223; Lucius Ampelius Liber memorabilis 8; Cassiodorus Variae 7; Hdt. 5.53–4, 7.151: D. S. 2.22; Ov. fast. 4.714, am. 1.8.4; Hom. Od. 4.185–7; Hes. Th. 984–5; Verg. Aen. 1.488–9; Hor. epist. 1.10.36; Paus. 3.3., 3.18, 5.19, 5.22; Sen. Tro. 1 and 229. She explains that Memnon became an object of worship promoted by the Ptolemaic dynasty. Two statues of Pharaoh Amenhotep III at Thebes, known as “the Colossi of Memnon”, are alluded to by various Greek and Latin authors. Finally she refers to the Memnon’s birds, mentioned in ancient literature and found on Greek vases. The story of Memnon’s birds was extracted by

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medieval excerptors from ancient literature and put into a new context: catalogues of animals, which are in a sense a precursor of today’s zoological literature. The article by Sara Myers (29) focuses on met. 14: she examines how the book was influenced by Hom. Od., Verg. Aen. and the Hellenistic spirit. Based on an analysis of the narrative dynamics (93–5), the amatory tales (95–100), the interconnection between speech and punishment (101–2), the apotheosis (102–5), and the relation between fast. and met. 14, she concludes that the polyphony which characterises the Ovidian epic is still present in the last two books, “where the narrative modes of myth, poetry, history, religion, and philosophy are juxtaposed thus revealing Ovid’s interest in exploring the very nature of knowledge and the creation of authority, both poetic and political” (108–9). In met. 14.774–804 we read about the confrontation between the Sabines and the Romans, and how the former take flight after a fountain of burning-hot water gushes out next to the Janus Geminus shrine. This version, which is different to all the others and where the fountain plays an equivalent role to Jupiter Stator, causes Dominique Briquel (40) to show that the theme of “feu dans l’eau” is significant in Indo-European mythology (she cites examples of Iranian, Greek and Irish tradition), and that it is linked to sovereignty. She explains that the water-fire theme is one of the most characteristic traits of the legends about the early Latin kings. She focuses especially on the life of Romulus, who is depicted according to the Indo-European belief systems. 2. Ancient Greek Authors A study of the influence of ancient Greek literature on the Metamorphoses inevitably crosses over with that of literary genres and generic composition, as well as new treatments  – whatever type of novelty it might be  – of old characters or episodes. Therefore, we limit ourselves here to collecting together the studies which have, in a detailed way, addressed Ovid’s reliance on specific authors or works. A short review of the explicit mentions Ovid makes of ancient Greek poets such as Homer, Hesiod, Sappho, Anacreon, and Sophocles, can be found in the paper by Maria Grazia Iodice di Martino (4, 77–85). a. Epic 1.  V. Castellani, “Two Divine Scandals, Ovid Met. 2.680 ff. and 4.171 ff. and His Sources”, TAPhA 110, 1980, 37–50. 2.  J. D. Ellsworth, “Ovid’s Iliad (Metamorphoses 12.1–13.622)”,  Prudentia  12, 1980, 23–9. 3.  M. Labate, “Ulisse, Eurialo e le armi di Achille. Ov. Met. XIII 98 sgg.”, A&R 25, 1980, 28–32. 4.  M. G. Iodice di Martino, “Ovidio e la poesia”, RCCM 23, 1981, 63–108. 5.  M. Lausberg, “Ἀρχέτυπον τῆς ἰδίας ποιήσεως. Zur Bildbeschreibung bei Ovid”, Boreas 5, 1982, 112–23.

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6.  A.-M. Tupet, “Une anecdote Eleusinienne chez Ovide et chez Arnobe”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 153–63 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 7.  G. Davis, The Death of Procris. “Amor” and the Hunt in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Roma 1983. Reviews: H. Le Bonniec, REL 62, 1984, 487; W. Derouau, LEC 53, 1985, 485; F. Robertson, G&R 32, 1985, 87–8; J.-P. Néraudau, RPh 60, 1986, 154–5. 8.  A. H. F. Griffin, “Unrequited love. Polyphemus and Galatea in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, G&R 30, 1983, 190–7. 9.  L. Spina, “Tersite a Roma”, Vichiana 13, 1984, 350–63. 10. J. M. Croisille, “Remarques sur l’épisode troyen dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide (Met. XII–XIII, 1–622)”, in J. M. Frécaut, D.  Porte (eds.), Journées Ovi­ diennes de Parménie. Actes du colloque sur Ovide, Bruxelles 1985, 57–81. 11.  P. Hardie, “Imago mundi: Cosmological and Ideological Aspects of the Shield of Achilles”, JHS 105, 1985, 11–31. 12.  G. Baldo, “Il codice epico nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, MD 16, 1986, 109–31. 13.  J. Fabre, “La narration illustrée. Étude de quelques digressions dans l’Énéide ovidienne”, REL 64, 1986, 172–84. 14.  A. H. F. Griffin, “Erysichton – Ovid’s Giant?”, G&R 33, 1986, 55–63. 15.  S. Hinds, The Metamorphosis of Persephone. Ovid and the self-conscious Muse, Cambridge 1987. Reviews: M. von Albrecht, AJPh 109, 1988, 461–3; W. S. M. Nicoll, CR 38, 1988, 245–7; W. Anderson, Gnomon 61, 1989, 356–8; J. Fabre, REL 66, 1988, 312; D. F. Kennedy, JRS 79, 1989, 209–10; B. R. Nagle, CW 82, 1989, 449–50; R. A. Tucker, CB 64, 1989, 102; S. Viarre, AC 58, 1989, 339–40; B. Rochette, LEC 58, 1990, 402–3; R. F. Thomas, CPh 85, 1990, 77–80; D. Porte, RPh 65, 1991, 71–2. 16.  J. D. Ellsworth, “Ovid’s Odyssey, Met. 13.623–14.608”, Mnemosyne 41, 1988, 333–40. 17.  M. Dippel, Die Darstellung des trojanischen Krieges in Ovids Metamorphosen (XII 1 – XIII 622), Frankfurt am Main-Bern-New York-Paris 1990 (European University Studies. Series XV: Classics, vol. 46). Reviews: D. E. Hill, CR 41, 1991, 235–6; B.  Rochette, LEC 59, 1991, 88; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 65, 1993, 359–60; C. M. Englhofer, GB 21, 1995, 223–5. 18.  A. R. Sharrock, “The Love of Creation”, Ramus 20, 1991, 169–82. 19.  J. F. O’Connor, “Ovid’s Meleager”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 34–42. 20.  R. M. Wilhelm, “The Metamorphoses of the Golden Age in Greek and Latin Writers”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 58–74. 21. J. Heath, “Prophetic  horses, bridled nymphs: Ovid’s metamorphosis of ­Ocyroe”, Latomus 53, 1994, 340–53.

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22.  J. F. Miller, “The Memories of Ovid’s Pythagoras”, Mnemosyne 47, 1994, 473–87. 23.  R. A. Smith, “Epic Recall and the Finale of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, MH 51, 1994, 45–53. 24.  N. A. DeBloois, Reluctant Brides, Deadly Bridegrooms: Ovid’s Transformation of the Marriage of Death, Diss. Univ. of Iowa 1994. 25.  P. Esposito, La narrazione inverosimile. Aspetti dell’epica ovidiana, Napoli 1994 (Università degli Studi di Salerno. Quaderni del Dipartimento di Scienze dell’Antichità 15). Reviews: N. Scivoletto, GIF 47, 1995, 299–313; F. Zoccali, BStudLat 25, 1995, 226–7; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 70, 1998, 254–6. 26.  K. S. Myers, Ovid’s Causes. Cosmogony and Aetiology in the Metamorphoses, Ann Arbor 1994. Reviews: D. F. Kennedy, G&R 42, 1995, 227; S. M. Wheeler, BMCR 1995.03.31; S. J. Harrison, CR 46, 1996, 24–5; M. W. Musgrove, AJPh 117, 1996, 338–41; W. S. Anderson, CW 90, 1997, 61; J. Loehr, IJCT 4, 1998, 629–31. 27.  L. Landolfi, “Un modulo epico-tragico in Ovidio (Met. IV 680–681)”, in S. Cerasuolo (ed.), Mathesis e philia. Studi in onore di Marcello Gigante, Napoli 1995, 169–85. 28.  D. Konstan, “De Deméter  a Ceres: construcciones de la diosa en Homero, Calímaco y Ovidio”, Synthesis 3, 1996, 67–90. 29.  T. D. Papanghelis, “De tergore partem exiguam: the case for a programmatic metaphor in Ovid, Met. 8. 649–50”, Philologus 140, 1996, 277–84. 30.  M. Labate, “Un altro Omero: Scene di battaglia nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in G. Papponetti (ed.), Metamorfosi. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi: Sulmona, 20–22 novembre 1994, Sulmona 1997, 143–65. 31.  E. Lorenzetti, La tradizione epica nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio. Saggio di indagine sulla “Piccola Iliade”, Tesi di Laurea Univ. di Macerata, 1997/98. 32.  J. Fabre-Serris, Mythologie et littérature à Rome. La réécriture des mythes aux Iers siècles avant et après J.-C., Lausanne 1998. Reviews: F. Cupaiolo, BStudLat 29, 1999, 223–4; A. Deremetz, REL 77, 1999, 332–3; R. Le Mer, Archives de sciences sociales des religions 108, 1999, 72–3; B. Powell, BMCR 1999.09.06; F. Prescendi, MH 56, 1999, 255; P. Desy, AC 69, 2000, 344–5; P. Fedeli, Aufidus 14.42, 2000, 133–4; M. Fox, JRS 90, 2000, 236–7; N. Méthy, RBPh 78, 2000, 204–6; B. Rochette, Kernos 13, 2000, 310–13. 33.  M. W. Musgrove, “Nestor’s Centauromachy and the Deceptive Voice of Poetic Memory (Ovid Met. 12.182–535)”, CPh 93, 1998, 223–31. 34.  M. W. Musgrove, “Chronology and anachrony in Ovid’s story of Scylla (Metamorphoses 13.730–14.74)”, SyllClass 9, 1998, 95–102.

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35.  C. Tsagalis, “The power of puns: traditionality and innovation in the Meleager tale in Ovid’s «Metamorphoses» (8.260–546)”, Πλάτων 50, 1998, 172–89. 36.  T. Baier, “Die Wandlung des epischen Erzählers: Apologe bei Homer, Vergil und Ovid”, Hermes 127, 1999, 437–54. 37.  A. Barchiesi, “Venus’ masterplot: Ovid and the Homeric hymns”, in P. Hardie, A. Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations. Essays on the Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 112–26. 38. P. Hardie, “Metamorphosis, Metaphor, and Allegory in Latin Epic”, in M. Beissinger, J. Tylus, S. Wofford (eds.), Epic Traditions in the Contemporary World: The Poetics of Community, Berkeley-Los Angeles-London, 1999, 89–107. 39.  M. Janka, “Wenn Götterväter zürnen …: von Zeus und Aigisth zu Jupiter, Augustus und Lykaon (Interpretation von Ov. Met. 1, 163–252)”, Hermes 127, 1999, 345–55. 40.  S. Mack, “Acis and Galatea or Metamorphosis of Tradition”, Arion 6, 1999, 51–67. 41.  M. Labate, “Tra Omero e Virgilio: strategie epiche ovidiane”, in F. Montanari, S. Pittaluga (eds.), Posthomerica 2: Tradizioni omeriche dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Genova 2000, 19–39 (Nuova serie 185). 42.  R. M. Lucifora, “Poteri magici e codice epico: una tappa omerica nella Eneide ovidiana”, in G. Arrighetti (ed.), Letteratura e riflessione sulla letteratura nella cultura classica: atti del convegno, Pisa, 7–9 giugno 1999, Pisa 2000, 203–19 (Biblioteca di studi antichi 84). 43.  A. W. Bishop, The Battle Scenes in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Ph. D.  Thesis University of Texas at Austin 2001. 44.  E. Lorenzetti, “L’armorum iudicium di Ovidio. Appunti sulla tradizione epica nelle Metamorfosi”, AFLM 34, 2001, 219–47. 45.  *C. Tsitsiou-Chelidoni, “Λíγυς αγορτής εχέφρων ήρως. Η πρόσληψη ομηρικού Νέστορα στις Μεταμορφώσεις του Οβιδίου”, in ´Ερανος. Από τα Πρακτικά του Θ’ Συνεδρίου για την Οδύσσεια (2–7 Σεπτεμβρίου 2000), Ιθάκη 2001, 455–80. 46.  T. M. Brady, The Margins of Epic: Three Studies in an Ovidian Homer, Ph. D. thesis University of Bristol 2002. 47.  A. M. Keith, “Sources and Genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd, Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2002, 235–69. 48.  S. Papaioannou, “Poetische Erinnerung und epische Dichtung: Nestors Rede in Ovid, Metamorphosen Buch 12”, Gymnasium 109, 2002, 213–34. 49.  *P. Pappa, “Ομ. Β 299–330/Cic. Div. II 30, 63–64/Ov. Met. XII 11–23: στοιχεία μεταφραστικήϛ ποιητικήϛ”, EEThess(philol) 10, 2002, 145–60. 50.  V. Chinnici, “Fit lapis et servat serpentis imagine saxum (Ov. Met. 12,23). Ovidio tra Omero e Cicerone”, in L. Landolfi, P. Monella (eds.), Ars adeo latet arte sua. Riflessioni sull’ intertestualità ovidiana. Le metamorfosi, Palermo 2003, 119–26.

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51.  M. Fucecchi, “La protesta e la rabbia del Sole: un’ipotesi su Ovidio lettore di Omero nella scena finale dell’episodio di Fetonte (Met. 2.381–400), con un’appendice su Lucano, Iliacon fr. 7 Mor. (= 6 C.)”, Sileno 28/29, 2002/03, 3–27. 52.  M. Labate, “Ironia e iperbole nell’immaginario epico di Ovidio”, in L. Cristante (ed.), Incontri triestini di filologia classica I (2001–2), Trieste 2003, 139–53. 53.  P. Martínez Astorino, “El relato hesiódico de Pandora y sus incidencias en la cosmología ovidiana”, CFC(L) 23, 2003, 335–49. 54.  P. Murgatroyd, “Ceres’ Informants in Ovid”, Eranos 101, 2003, 129–32. 55.  M. Patti, “Circe e i compagni di Ulisse: un episodio omerico nelle Metamorfosi ovidiane (Ov. Met. 14, 243–309)”, Pan 21, 2003, 211–28. 56.  M. Patti, “Agnoscis Ceyca, miserrime coniunx? (Ov. Met. 11,658). Il sogno di Alcione come tributo normativo all’epos”, in L. Landolfi, P. Monella (eds.), Ars adeo latet arte sua. Riflessioni sull’ intertestualità ovidiana. Le metamorfosi, Palermo 2003, 103–18. 57.  I. Aurenty, “Des Cyclopes à Rome”, in O. Bianchi, O. Thévenaz (eds.), Conceptions et représentations de l’extraordinaire dans le monde antique. Actes du colloque international, Lausanne, 20–22 mars 2003, Bern 2004, 35–52. 58.  J.-C. Jolivet, “Nyctegresiae Romanae: exégèse homérique et retractatio de la Dolonie chez Virgile et Ovide”, Dictynna 1, 2004, 181–212. 59. Y. Syed, “Ovid’s Use of the Hymnic Genre in the Metamorphoses”, in A. Barchiesi, J. Rüpke, S. Stephens (eds.), Rituals in Ink. A Conference on Religion and Literary Production in Ancient Rome held at Standford University in February 2002, Stuttgart 2004, 99–113 (Postdamer altertumswissenchaftliche Beiträge 10). 60.  R. Fletcher, “Or such as Ovid’s Metamorphoses …”, in R.  Hunter (ed.), The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women: Constructions and Reconstructions, Cambridge-New York 2005, 299–319. 61.  J. Brasil Fontes, “Erysichtonis ora profani: no crisol das formas mutáveis”, LCláss 9, 2005, 181–214. 62. S. Papaioannou,  Epic Succession and Dissension. Ovid, Metamorphoses 13.623–14.582, and the Reinvention of the Aeneid, Berlin-New York 2005 (Untersuchungen zur antiken Literatur und Geschichte 73). Reviews: C.  Francese, BMCR 2006.3.11; W. J. Dominik, Latomus 66, 2007, 1024–6; I. Gildenhard, Vergilius 53, 2007, 191–6; G. Tissol, CR 57, 2007, 109–10; J. Wildberger, Gnomon 79, 2007, 753–5. 63. T. Gärtner, “Die Erzählung vom Kalydonischen Eber und Meleager bei Homer, in der “Tattoo Elegy” und bei Ovid”, APF 52, 2006, 123–30. 64.  M. Lazzeri, “I papauera di Verg. Aen. 9.436, Omero, Stesicoro e Ovidio (con una nota a Servio)”, SemRom 9, 2006, 145–60. 65.  G. O. Hutchinson, “The Monster and the Monologue: Polyphemus from Homer to Ovid”, in P. J. Finglass, C.  Collard, N. J. Richardson (eds.), Hesperos:

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Studies in Ancient Greek Poetry Presented to M. L. West on his Seventieth Birthday, Oxford-New York 2007, 22–39. 66.  S. Papaioannou, Redesigning Achilles. ‘Recycling’ the Epic Cycle in the ‘Little Iliad’ (Ovid, Metamorphoses 12.1–13.622), Berlin-New York 2007 (Untersuchungen zur antiken Literatur und Geschichte 89). Reviews: I. Ziogas, BMCR 2008.10.33; C. Reitz, Gnomon 85, 2013, 176–8. 67.  B. Kayachev, “Die homerische Formel εἴδωλα καμόντων bei den römischen Dichtern”, RhM 151, 2008, 245–58. 68.  Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “La odiseica «Eneida» de las Metamorfosis”, CFC(L) 29, 2009, 5–23. 69.  G. Rosati, “The Latin Reception of Hesiod”, in F. Montanari, A. Rengakos, C. Tsagalis (eds.), Brill’s Companion to Hesiod, Leiden 2009, 343–74. 70.  J. T. Hamilton, “Ovids Echographie”, in E. Goebel, E. Bronfen (eds.), Narziss und Eros: Bild oder Text?, Göttingen 2009, 18–40. 71.  W. Polleichtner, “Ovid und Homer”, in B.  Effe, R. F. Glei, C.  Klodt (eds.), “Homer zweiten Grades”. Zum Wirkungspotential eines Klassikers, Trier 2009, 129–69 (Bochumer altertumswissenschaftliches Colloquium 79). 72.  M. Janka, “Zorn und Zeit: Die Metamorphosen von Homers Ilias in Ovids Verwandlungsepos”, in R.  Kussl (ed.), Themen und Texte. Anregungen für den Lateinunterricht, Speyer 2010, 79–128 (Dialog Schule-Wissenschaft  – Klassische Sprachen und Literaturen 44). 73.  C. Krause, “Die Metamorphose des Polyphem oder Wie viele Wiederholungen verträgt eine Erzählung?: zur Achaemenidesepisode in Ovids Metamorphosen”, Gymnasium 117, 2010, 7–32. 74.  J. Fabre-Serris, “L’histoire de Méléagre vue par Ovide ou de quoi le tison des Parques est-il l’emblème?”, EL 3–4, 2011, 149–66. 75.  P. Martín Llanos, “El adulterio de Marte y Venus en Metamorfosis de Ovidio: relato, narradoras y auditorio internos”, Argos 34, 2011, 36–58. 76.  M. Salvadori, M. Baggio, “Lo svelamento di Marte e Venere: fra repertorio iconografico e narrazione ovidiana”, Eidola 8, 2011, 79–95. 77.  I. Ziogas, “Ovid as an Hesiodic Poet: Atalanta in the Catalogue of Women (fr.  72–6 M-W) and the Metamorphoses (10.560–707)”, Mnemosyne 64, 2011, 249–70. 78.  B. W. Boyd, “On starting an epic (journey): Telemachus, Phaethon, and the beginning of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, MD 69, 2012, 101–18. 79. M. Labate, “Polifemo in Ovidio: il difficile cammino della civiltà”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 229–45. 80.  A. McClintock, “L’ira di Demetra”, Index 40, 2012, 42–56.

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81.  A. Wolkenhauer, “Dehnung der Akmé, Eukrasie und Zeitlosigkeit: Entwürfe des guten Alterns im griechisch-römischen Zeitaltermythos”, in T. Fitzon et alii (eds.), Alterszäsuren: Zeit und Lebensalter in Literatur, Theologie und Geschichte, Berlin-Boston 2012, 221–35. 82.  L. Aresi, “Vicende (e intrecci) del mito in terra d’Italia: Scilla, Glauco e Circe nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, Prometheus 39, 2013, 137–64. 83.  M. Janka, “Dreiecksbeziehungen zwischen Texten: Vergils komplexe Odyssee rezeption als Scharnier zwischen Homer und Ovid. Innovation aus Tradition”, in M. Baumbach, W. Polleichtner (eds.), Innovation aus Tradition. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven der Vergilforschung, Trier 2013, 59–95 (Bochumer Altertumswissenschaftliches Colloquium 93). 84.  G. Mader, “The be(a)st of the Achaeans: turning tables / overturning tables in Ovid’s centauromachy (Metamorphoses 12.210–535)”, Arethusa 46, 2013, 87–116. 85.  D. Stratenwerth, “Den Zeitaltermythos mit Verständnis lesen”, AU 56, 2013, 59–67. 86.  I. Ziogas, Ovid and Hesiod. The Metamorphosis of “The Catalogue of Women”, Cambridge-New York 2013 (revised version of his Ph. D. Thesis, Hesiod in Ovid. The Metamorphosis of the “Catalogue of women”, Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y., 2010). Reviews: M. Hirschberger, BMCR 2013.11.14; S. Alekou, CR 64, 2014, 458–60; L. M. Fratantuono, CPh 109, 2014, 270–4; S. G. Papaïoannou, Mnemosyne 67, 2014, 854–9; H. Koning, Gymnasium 122, 2015, 178–80; K. S. Myers, Gnomon 88, 2016, 461–2; D. Curley, AJPh 138, 2017, 382–4. 87.  K. Heldmann, “Jupiters Nebeldecke und die Wolke des Zeus: Ovids Io-­ Erzählung (met. 1,588–750) und ihr literarhistorischer Kontext”, Hermes 142, 2014, 326–48. 88.  H. van Noorden, Playing Hesiod: The “Myth of the Races” in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge 2015. Reviews: R. Loer, BMCR 2016.09.38; B. B. Powell, Mnemosyne 69, 2016, 527–30; W. G. Thalmann, CW 109, 2016, 559–60; D. Bonanno, Anabases 26, 2017, 253–5; J. Pinheiro, Humanitas 70, 2017, 144–7. 89.  P. Martínez Astorino, La apoteosis en las Metamorfosis de Ovidio. Diseño estructural, mitologización y «lectura» en la representación de apoteosis y sus contextos, Bahía Blanca 2017. Reviews: L.  Pérez, Circe 21.2, 2017, s.p.; E.  Bérchez Castaño, Myrtia 33, 2018, 449–52; D. Keramida, CR 68, 2018 415–17; B. Bakhouche, AC 88, 2019, 259–61; P. Fàbregas Salis, BStudLat 49, 2019, 826–30; L. Rivero García, Gnomon 91, 2019, 461–3; E. Squeri, Maia 71, 2019, 218–24.

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Homer As Wolfgang Polleichtner states (71, 129 and 133), we need a “Gesamtuntersuchung” about the precise relationship between Ovid and Homer, and even partial or detailed studies are rare. One reason for this is that Ovid turns to Homer less often, or in a less explicit form, than other authors. The study of his reliance, which in any case is unquestionable and constant, is further complicated because in most instances the reliance is mediated or conditioned by passages of other authors, the so-called ‘window references’ (ibid., 132). Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (32, 150–2) calls attention to Ovid’s approach to Homeric material, an approach which gives preference to the so-called Antehomerica and Posthomerica, which changes the target from the anger of Achilles to the rage of Neptune, and which makes a profound critical revision of the figure of Achilles. The presence of Homeric epic and particularly of the Iliad (of the Epic Cycle too), and not only of the Aeneid in what he significantly calls “Ovid’s Iliad” (met. 12.1–13.622), is the focus of analysis of James Ellsworth’s article (1). This work asserts the merit of Ovid in the face of previous negative interpretations of Books 12 and 13 (a review of the literary and iconographical sources of these books can also be seen in Croisille 10, 61–7). Gianluigi Baldo’s article (12) also offers an examination of this same presence in those verses (although broadening them with the “Ovidian Aeneid”, met. 13.623–14.608). He presents interesting comparisons with the Virgilian model and some texts of Cicero (a confrontation between Hom. Il. 2.299–330, Cic. Div. 2.30, 63–64, and met. 12.11–23, in Pappa, 49). Ellsworth subsequently returns (16) to the same passage of met., an episode which he intentionally calls “Ovid’s Odyssey” in order to recall that much of this narrative, instead of concerning itself with Aeneas, deals with other subjects. He also shows that one of Ovid’s major concerns here “is to tell the story of the Odyssey as completely as possible, an aim almost totally ignored in the relevant scholarship. Ovid’s integration of the Odyssey into his ‘Aeneid’ not only adds greater cohesiveness to this section, but determines the form and content of several of the stories that scholars consider extraneous or digressive to their context” (334). The paper is devoted to analysing these episodes from this perspective, and also to reading the Vertumnus-Pomona episode as an ‘Odysseic brochure’ inasmuch as certain affinities can be signalled between this couple and that of Odysseus-Penelope. The same aim of pointing out the differences in Ovid regarding Homer and Virgil in this episode (especially in met. 14.154–441), guides the article of Thomas Baier (36). Another examination of the combination of Homeric and Virgilian models for what the authors call Ovid’s “odiseica Eneida”, can be found in Álvarez and Iglesias (67), which includes a review of previous scholarship (see also Croisille 10, 67–75). Paolo Esposito (25, 11–36) and Christiane Krause (73) both focus on the specific episode of Achemenides (14.154–220), looking at imitatio and aemulatio which Ovid practises vis-à-vis Virgil but also Homer (see also Esposito 25, 66–7). Rosa Lucifora (42) makes a detailed study of the episodes of metamorphosis of the companions of Ulysses, Picus and Canens (met. 14.242–445), in the light of Homeric and Virgilian

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models (Od. 10.135–440, Aen. 7.8–25, 187–91). Emanuela Lorenzetti (44) rejects the traditional vision of Ovid’s preference for Ulysses in the Armorum iudicium and hence she refuses to accept any criticism of the epic world and the epic tradition on the part of our poet. Marianna Patti (55) analyses the episode of Ulysses and his companions (met. 14.243–309), also noting the differences with the Homeric model (Od. 10), a necessary model since it has no parallel in Virgil’s poem. Philip Hardie (38) centres on the study of concepts such as ‘metamorphosis’, ‘metaphor’, ‘allegory’ and ‘personification’ in met. He argues that metamorphosis leads to  a feeling of instability and uncertainty that precludes re-reading the epic ‘man’ of the Odyssey or the Aeneid as “the philosophical personification of a perfected humanity” (100). The first part of Jean-Christophe Jolivet’s article (57) is dedicated to comparing Homer’s Doloneia (Il. 10) and its presence in the Ovidian Armorum iudicium (met. 13.1–398), studying the Virgilian influence as well as that of the scholiasts of the Alexandrian era. Mario Labate has dedicated a brief note (3) to comparing these two same texts, but with the significant intermediation of the Virgilian episode of Nisus and Euryalus. The Ph. D. thesis of Thomas Brady (46) is entirely dedicated to the comparative analysis of Ovid’s dependence on Homer, though “from  a revamped perspective in which the ‘alluding’ poet is granted thematic and interpretive priority” (193). Particularly interesting for our purposes are the brief Introduction, where the terms of comparison are clarified (e.g. 11, where the author states that his scope is “Ovidianising Homer […]; to read the Iliad and the Odyssey under the influence of such works as the Heroides, the Metamorphoses, and the epistles from exile”), and chapter 2 (“Belatedness: Metamorphosis and the Iliad”), where Ovid’s literary program (1.1–4) is discussed, and where his indebtedness to Homer, as well as his innovation in met. 12.1–13.398 are analysed. For eventually reading Ovid as a ‘new Homer’, see Polleichtner 71, 150–60. A detailed episode-by-episode study of 12.1–13.622, along with an initial examination of how this section fits into the poem’s general structure, is offered in the monograph of Manfred Dippel (17). Like Ellsworth, he defends the Ovidian creation from disqualifications contained in previous studies (see likewise Lorenzetti,  31). Staying with this same part of the work, Margaret Musgrove (33) examines Ovid’s Centauromachy (met. 12.182–535), which “may be, to some extent, a parody of the epic flashback”, but which nevertheless “serves an important structural function, for its immense size suggests to the reader the passage of a long period of time during the main story” (229). This episode also has an important literary function, as “the strange nature of the episode’s narrator suggests questions about epic narration in general, especially the first-person flashback and the reliability of narrators […]. Ovid uses it to bring his “Iliad” into conflict with its epic predecessors and to suggest the possibility of other versions of epic narrative besides the canonical texts” (230; for the presence of the Homeric Nestor in met. see also Tsitsiou-Chelidoni, 45; Papaioannou, 48; for Hesiod’s presence, Ziogas 86, chapter 5). Gottfried ­Mader’s article (84) focuses on the same episode: he also finds in Ovid’s adaptation a

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metaliterary strategy aimed at dismantling and parodying the ideology of his Homeric pretext. Musgrove (34) dedicates another article to highlighting the complexity of the temporal structure of Scylla’s episode (met. 13.730–14.74), which allows Ovid to appear not only as the successor to Homer and Virgil, but also as their forerunner, since his stories predate those of both Ulysses and Aeneas. A similar conclusion (156: “… Ovidio è riuscito … a spiegare il passaggio dalla Circe delle Argonautiche alla Circe dell’Odissea…”) is reached by Laura Aresi (82), who examines the love triangle formed by Circe, Glaucus and Scylla (through the models of Homer and Apollonius). She relates the relationship to the myth of Circe and Picus, and the triangle of Polyphemus, Galatea and Acis (through Homer and Theocritus). In any case, the most complete and up-to-date reference studies of met. 12.1–14.582 are those by Sophia Papaioannou (62 and 66). In the latter, she makes a thorough analysis of the ways in which Ovid deconstructs and reconstructs Homer; that is, of Ovid’s methods of innovation. In the former, logically much more focused on the hypotext of the Aeneid, the reader will nevertheless find many elements of comparison with the Homeric source or model, particularly where Ovid is lacking  a Virgilian model. A review of the initial bibliography about this aspect of dependency can be found in Polleichtner (71, 142–5). Gregson Davis (7, 79–81) compares Ovid’s character of Salmacis (met. 4.320–8) with Homer’s Nausicaa (Od. 6.149–59), while Markus Janka (38) claims that, against the model of Homeric Zeus complaining about Aegisthus (Od. 1.26–95), Ovid constructs  a tyrannical Jupiter figure, who condemns Lycaon without compassion (met. 1.163–252). Janka studies the many aspects in which this character reminds us of Augustus. Analysing the final speeches of Venus and Jupiter (met. 15.765–78 and 807–42), Alden Smith (23) points out the obvious models of the Iliad and the Aeneid, studying the way in which these elements are adapted by Ovid to his current time. Luigi Spina (9) reviews the context and ways in which the character of Thersites, modelled on a specific Homeric passage (Il. 2.212–69), reappears in Latin literature. He focuses on Ovid as  a poet in whose work this character has  a more abundant and varied presence, and naturally addresses (354) his appearance in the Armorum iudicium (met. 13.231–3). Some general considerations about Ovid’s treatment of Homeric characters like Achemenides, Polyphemus, Scylla and Circe can be found in Fabre (13, 180–1). Comparative panoramic analyses of the character of Polyphemus in Homer (Od. 9) and Ovid, via Theocritus and Virgil, in Griffin (8), Aurenty (57, 42–8), and, to a cursory degree, in Mack (40, 51–6). The examination of this same character by Gregory Hutchinson (65) is more in-depth, in that he combines narratology with other perspectives (intertextuality, staging, imagery, communication). As regards Ovid, the author states (32): “Ovid’s Metamorphoses confront (with complications) the Theocritean and Homeric Polyphemi, and two forms of Virgilian epos”; or (35): “the intertextual complexity is matched by  a narratological complexity”. But Ovid seems to have added a Roman touch to certain scenes of this character (32): “Polyphemus is like a husband discovering the lovers in the act (cf. 873–5), and attacking the man. That scene is envisaged and encouraged by the Lex Iulia de adulteriis coercendis”.

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Mario Labate (79) also compares the two appearances of Polyphemus in met. 13 and 14. He shows that, while the one in Book 13, previous to the Odyssean in the character’s life, is based on Greek and Roman bucolic and elegiac literary models, the one in Book 14 refers particularly to Homer and Virgil and shows a ‘relapse’ back to the wild and uncivilized spirit from which he had appeared to have freed himself. Also the work by Markus Janka (83) has as its focus the ‘triangular dependence’ between these texts (“Vergils Homer, Ovids Homer und Ovids Vergil im Dialog”). Valentina Chinnici (50) makes  a comparison between Ovid’s treatment (met. 12.8–23) and its Homeric model (Il. 2.299–330) of the episode of the serpent that, eating a brood of birds, makes a prediction on the length of the Trojan War. But she also notes the difference in treatment by Cicero (div. 2.63–4), a passage which Ovid references. Joseph O’Connor (19) compares the Ovidian tale of Meleager (met. 8.260–546) with the models of Homer and Bacchylides, and claims that Ovid gives the oldest (pre-literate) version of the myth, based on the archaeological evidence of the famous François Vase (ca. 570 bce), where, like in Ovid, but unlike the two Greek authors, the character of Atalanta is included. He then carries out an interpretation of the myth in anthropological code. Tsagalis (35) makes a detailed analysis of the same episode and its function in the context of the poem. In terms of what most interests us, this scholar starts off by studying the possible sources and models available to Ovid (Homer, Bacchylides, Phrynichus, Aeschylus, Euripides, Apollodorus), of which the Homeric model (Il. 9.529–99) seems the most influential, even though “Ovid’s account […] is far from containing an epic or heroic tone” (178). Although his interest is more focused on Ovid’s debt to the anonymous Hellenistic poem known as ‘Tattoo Elegy’, Thomas Gärtner (63) also compares Ovid’s and Homer’s versions of the episode. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris’ study is also dedicated to Meleager, again comparing the models of Homer and Bacchylides (74, §§ 11–12, 32–5). In an article dedicated to studying the Io-episode, Konrad Heldmann (87, 332–7) focuses his attention on the motive for the fog which Jupiter uses to conceal his clandestine love, and on the Homeric hypertext (Il. 14.312–53) which the poet modifies and reinterprets. According to Heldmann (341), Ovid’s version is sarcastic rather than humorous, reflecting a dark and brutal Jupiter. John Heath (21) considers the loose connection between Ocyroe’s prophecy and fate (met. 2.633–79) and the speech of Achille’s horse in Book 19 of the Iliad. John Miller (22, 474–9) studies the dependency of certain passages of Pythagoras’ speech (met. 15.160–4) vis-à-vis the opening section of Book 17 of the Iliad. Markus Janka (72) shows, through the comparison of texts with the common feature of ‘wrath’, the “mehr oder minder versteckte Omnipräsenz der Ilias in den Metamorphosen” (126). In a wide-ranging article devoted to the cosmological representation on Achilles’ shield starting from Homer (Il. 18.478–608), Philip Hardie (11, 16–17) deals with its presence in Ovid’s Armorum iudicium (met. 13.110–11 and 288–95). A general comparison of the ekphrastic motive for the description of objects in Homer and Ovid is offered in the article by Marion Lausberg (4).

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Luciano Landolfi (27) analyses the variations introduced by Ovid (met. 4.680–1) into the well-known epic formula of parenthood and origin (Hom. Od. 1.170–2). Also the article by Papanghelis (29) centres on  a specific expression (8.649–50 de tergore partem / exiguam) and its Homeric models (Il. 7.321–2, 9.207–8; Od. 4.65–6, 8.475–6, 14.437–8). This scholar finds programmatic literary references with an Alexandrian nuance in the Ovidian formula. As seen regarding the battle scenes (see ‘Generic compositions’), Mario Labate (30) examines this motif in met., but specifically in order to study how Ovid branches off from the Homeric-Virgilian model in search of new literary space. A similar focus of comparison inspires the work in which Labate (52) studies the Homeric and Hellenistic hypotexts in the episode of Achilles and Cycnus’ fight (met. 12.64–167; see also Esposito 25, 51–67; Papaioannou, 48). A detailed analysis of Ovid’s dependency on Homer’s Iliad in the motif of battle descriptions, and especially the battle of the Lapiths and Centaurs (met. 12.210–535), can be seen in the Ph. D. thesis of Anne Bishop (43): she dedicates chapters 1 and 4 to this topic (see also Esposito 25, 37–49; Labate, 41; Papaioannou, 48). Marianna Patti (56) compares the debt of Alcyone’s dream in Ovid (met. 11.650– 80), in terms of the ‘objective’ dream typical of the epic genre (Homer, but also Ennius), with that from the Hellenistic erotic dream. The metaphor of the warrior who bends his neck to die like a cut flower is the object of Lazzeri’s article (64, and see 153, n. 32). He compares the scenes of Gorgythion in Homer (Il. 8.300–8), Gerion in Stesichorus (fr. S 15 col. II 14–17 Davies), Euryalus in Virgil (Aen. 9.433–7), and Hyacinthus in Ovid (10.190–5), reaching the conclusion that Ovid practises a “sintesi dei modelli” (155). Marco Fucecchi (51) focuses on the protest of Helios over the death of his son Phaethon (met. 2.381–400). Along with Homeric models already known for this complaint and threats (Od. 12.377–88), Fucecchi brings to the comparison the opportune parallel (Il. 19.397–424) of Achilles’ complaint against his horses, which he blames for the death of Patroclus. Pablo Martín Llanos (75) studies the episode of the adultery of Mars and Venus (met. 4.167–89) in the light of his Homeric hypertext (Od. 8.266–366), paying special attention to how both poets take recourse to the technique of the ‘internal narrator’. The differences in the treatment of this same episode had been analysed much earlier by Victor Castellani (1, esp. 44–8). Also addressing Homer are Monica Salvadori and Monica Baggio in their study of the same episode (76), although these writers focus more on the different Ovidian versions of the same episode and on the presence in more or less contemporary iconographic sources. Boris Kayachev (67) makes use of the Ovidian expression simulacraque functa sepulcris / -cro (met. 4.435, 10.14) to relate the Virgilian (georg. 4.472) simulacraque luce carentum with the Homeric model (Il. 23.72; Od. 24.14, 11.476) and not only with that of Lucretius (4.35), of which the latter passage, in turn, would have a possible origin in Ennius. As noted above (see ‘Literary genres’), Alison Keith’s chapter (47) studies the presence of Homer, the Homeric Hymns, Hesiod, and the tragic authors in

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Books 1–5. In the same section we note that Barbara Boyd (78) believes that Homer’s Telemacheia is the model for Ovid’s ‘poetic journey’ towards the new genre of epic as perceived in the first verse of the poem (cf. in nova fert animus and Hom. Od. 1.347 ὅππῃ οἱ νόος ὄρνυται), although this connection had already been established in other studies (see Polleichtner 71, 133–41, with references). Homeric Hymns Chapter 4 of the book by Hinds (15, 72–98), titled “The Homeric Hymn to Demeter: Metamorphoses 5”, considers how Ovid’s narrative on the rape of Persephone in met. 5 is undoubtedly indebted to the Homeric Hymn (albeit not as clearly as in fast. 4, on which see ibid. 51–71), thereby surpassing the previous theories which looked for a necessary ‘Hellenistic intermediary’ between both texts (ibid. 52–6, and see Tupet 6). The comparative study of this same hymn is in the background of Nanci Ann DeBloois’ dissertation (24); she looks at the specific characteristics of the ‘bride of Hades motif ’ in Ovid along with other variations (and models). The comparison of both texts, along with the intermediation of Callimachus’ Hymn to Ceres, is also the topic of David Konstan’s article (28), which examines in detail (84–90) Ovid’s text (met. 5.341–661) and its differences vis-à-vis both models. Konstan (28, 69) understands the Ovidian story as  a political allegory: with the tensions between Jupiter and his tragic relatives (Hades and Demeter) the poet satirises the behaviour of Roman aristocracy and its relations with Augustus. Aglaia McClintock (80) s­ tudies the Ovidian versions (in met. 5 and fast. 4.393–620) and the legal-matrimonial background (and its relation with the contemporary laws De maritandis ordinibus and De adulteriis coërcendis) with which Ovid provides the episode by introducing Venus’ character. Joaquim Brasil Fontes (61) studies the influence of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter on Ovid’s episode of Erysichton and his daughter (met. 8.725–884), again with the intermediation of Callimachus’ Hymn to Demeter. Paul Murgatroyd dedicates a brief note (54) to comparing the informants whom Ovid chooses for Ceres (Cyane, Arethusa): although divinities, as in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter (2.22 ff.; also in fast. 4.575 ff.), they also differ in their identities and attitudes. Alessandro Barchiesi (37) explores Ovid’s exploitation of the Homeric Hymns (understood as “Homer in his Hymns”, 123), and he considers particularly Venus’ universal aspirations in met. 5.365–79, where the poet combines – along with other sources such as Callimachus, Bion, Theocritus or the Aeneid – the hymns to Demeter and Aphrodite. Yasmin Syed (59) examines the influence of the Homeric Hymns on the structure of the hymnic element in met. In his analysis of Narcissus-Echo, John Hamilton (70) relates the episode to the first verses of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, wherein (10–14) some narcissuses collaborate in the deception of the maiden Persephone. Hamilton comes to the conclusion that Ovid makes  a reversal of his model (28–9): “Gehen wir der Kontinuität zwischen der homerischen Narzisse und Ovids Narziss genauer nach, so wird deutlich, dass die Episode der Metamorphosen die literarische Tradition, zu der sie gehört, wirkungsvoll umkehrt”.

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Hesiod Ovid’s dependence on Hesiod has not received the attention it deserves. Sara Myers (26, esp. 5–15) offered some thoughts on the matter, and some hints are to be found also in Rosati (69, 363–74). As Ioannis Ziogas states (77, 249), “[t]he Hesiodic character of the Metamorphoses is one of the least discussed aspects of Ovid’s epic, although the importance of Hesiod declares itself in the opening lines” (see also Papaioannou, Mnemosyne 67, 2014, 854). However, this topic is being addressed in various works, generally focused on specific characters and episodes. Alan Griffin (14) states that, in Ovid’s version of the myth of Erysichton, by combining the story of this character with his own daughter’s, the poet might have followed as a model the (pseudo-)Hesiodic Catalogue of Women (57): “Ovid’s account of Erysichthon’s daughter is essentially the same as that in pseudo-Hesiod … Ovid is likely to have known the pseudo-Hesiodic poem which had for him the advantage of containing the theme of metamorphosis”. Regarding the interdependence between these works, Richard Fletcher (60) starts off by establishing some cautious caveats, and continues studying this debt through the scenes represented in Arachne’s tapestry, and through the characters of Nestor and Hercules, assessing the ramifications for Augustan imperial ideology (318–9): “These implications mean that reading  a relationship between Hesiod’s Catalogue of Women and Ovid’s Metamorphoses not only challenges intertextualist method, generic markers and gender politics in modern classical scholarship, but also enacts the interweaving of ideas of divine rape, heroic generation and apotheosis in the translation of Greek myth into Augustan Roman ideology”. Alison Sharrock (18) finds in Hesiod’s Pandora the link between Pygmalion’s story (met. 10.243–97) and Myrrha’s (10.298–518). In his diachronic study on the motive for the Golden Age (20), although he emphasises the originality of the poet’s treatment, Robert Wilhelm remembers that Ovid “derives much of his imagery from Hesiod and his moral tone from Aratus” (69). Dietrich Stratenwerth (85) looks at similarities and differences in Ovid’s treatment of the myth of the ages (met. 1.89–150) regarding the models of Hesiod, Lucretius and Virgil, and he interprets that certain Ovidian deviations from the traditional topoi point to criticism of Augustus. A comparison between Hesiod’s and Ovid’s conceptions of time and age is offered by Anja Wolkenhauer (81). Pablo Martínez Astorino (53) compares, in addition to the well-known Homeric model of Achilles’ shield, Ovid’s cosmogonic account (met. 1.78–88) and Hesiod’s tale of the creation of Pandora (Th. 570–2; Op. 60–2; 70–1), and concludes, through a “lectura hesiódica de las Metamorfosis” (345–7), that Ovid designed met. as a continuation of the plan of ‘the ages’ in Hesiod’s Theogony (see also 89, 63–77). Ioannis Ziogas is probably the scholar who dedicates the most attention to the Hesiodic character of met. and epist. 16–17. In an article published in 2011 (77) and focused on the Ovidian character of Atalanta (10.560–707) and its dependence on the Catalogue of Women, Ziogas dedicates the first pages (249–54) to asserting that met. 1–10 conforms to the sequence of Theogony-Works and Days-Catalogue

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of Women (267: “In conclusion, Orpheus’ narrative in Metamorphoses 10 presents traits intrinsic to the genre of ehoie-poetry, reflecting the Hesiodic character of the Metamorphoses as a whole. Ovid’s foray into the Hesiodic corpus provides us with a new perspective to interpreting his aemulatio of Vergil. While the Aeneid marks Vergil’s literary ascent – within the Homeric epics – from the Odyssey (Aeneid 1–6) to the Iliad (Aeneid 7–12), the Metamorphoses draws a trajectory from the Theogony to the Catalogue of Women. Given the generic affinities of Ovid’s epic with Hesiodic poetry, the possibility of direct references to the Catalogue in the Metamorphoses is worth examining”). His aim is to examine (254) “Ovid’s intertextual engagement with Hesiod’s female-oriented epic” (i. e. Ehoie-Poetry). All of this is, in any case, simply a synopsis of the principle which supports Ziogas’ monograph (86),  a reworking of his Ph. D. thesis (2010). On the conviction that Hesiod’s poetry is the ‘host’ genre of met., he dedicates his pages to analysing these different female characters (Helen in epist. 16–17; in met., Coronis, Mestra, Atalanta, Caenis, but also Io, Callisto, Europa, and others). The author carries out a detailed review of the Hesiodic elements in met., and of the ways in which Ovid adapts and transforms the Catalogue of Women. b. Tragedy 1. H. Zehnacker, “Ovide et la tragédie”, in Πανελλήνιο Συμπόσιο Λατινικών Σπουδών. Θέμα: Λογοτεχνία και πολιτική στα χρόνια του Αυγούστου, Γιάννενα, 5–6 Νοέμβριου 1982, Iannina 1984, 181–94. 2.  C. Segal, “Senecan Baroque: The Death of Hippolytus in Seneca, Ovid, and Euripides”, TAPhA 114, 1984, 311–25. 3.  V. Cristóbal, “Perseo y Andrómeda: Versiones antiguas y modernas”, CFC 23, 1989, 51–96. 4.  D. H. J. Larmour, “Tragic Contaminatio in Ovid’s Metamorphoses: Procne and Medea; Philomela and Iphigeneia (6.424–674); Scylla and Phaedra (8.19–151)”, ICS 15, 1990, 131–41. 5.  F. Stok, “Le troiane di Ovidio (met. 13.408–428)”, in L. Nicastri (ed.), Contributi di filologia latina, Napoli 1990, 85–101. 6.  F. Bellandi, “Flumina nectaris ibant: (età dell’oro, frugalitas  e cuccagna nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio)”, SicGymn 45, 1992, 29–42. 7.  A. Houriez, “D’Eschyle à Ovide: le traitement du mythe d’Io à travers divers genres littéraires”, Uranie 2, 1992 43–62. 8.  Z. Ritoók, “Amphion und Icarus”, AAntHung 36, 1995, 87–99 (= E. G. Schmidt [et al.], Griechenland und Rom. Vergleichende Untersuchungen zu Entwicklungstendenzen und -höhepunkten der antiken Geschichte, Kunst und Literatur, Erlangen-Jena 1996, 204–21). 9.  D. Curley, “Ovid, Met. 6.640: A Dialogue between Mother and Son”, CQ 47, 1997, 320–2.

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10.  C. E. Newlands, “The metamorphosis of Ovid’s Medea”, in J. J. Clauss, S. I. Johnson (eds.), Essays on Medea in Myth, Literature, Philosophy, and Art, Princeton 1997, 178–208. 11.  M. Ciappi, “Contaminazioni fra tradizioni letterarie affini di ascendenza tragica nel racconto ovidiano del mito di Procne e Filomela (met. VI 587–666)”, Maia 50, 1998, 433–63. 12.  J. Fabre-Serris, Mythologie et littérature à Rome. La réécriture des mythes aux Iers siècles avant et après J.-C., Lausanne 1998. Reviews: uid. supra ‘a. Epic’. 13.  M. Ciappi, “Il catalogo dei partecipanti alla caccia calidonia nelle «Meta­ morfosi» ovidiane (8, 298–328)”, Orpheus 19–20, 1998/99, 270–98. 14.  M. Ciappi, “La narrazione ovidiana del mito di Fetonte e le sue fonti. L’importanza della tradizione tragica”, Athenaeum 88, 2000, 117–68. 15.  I. Gildenhard, A.  Zissos, “Ovid’s Narcissus (Met. 3, 339–510): Echoes of Oedipus”, AJPh 121, 2000, 129–47. 16.  L. Landolfi, “Il nefas mancato e i suoi retroscena. Dal sacrificio di Ifigenia alla facondia di Ulisse (Ov. Met. XII, 24–38; XIII, 181–95)”, Vichiana 3, 2001, 26–38. 17.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Spirat tragicum satis …: note al Tereus di Accio, tra filologia e storia della lingua”, Paideia 57, 2002, 84–98. 18.  A. M. Keith, “Sources and Genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd, Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2002, 235–69. 19.  D. Curley, “Ovid’s Tereus: Theater and Metatheater”, in A.  Sommerstein (ed.), Shards from Kolonos: Studies in Sophoclean Fragments, Bari 2003, 163–97 (Le Rane 34). 20.  M. Paschalis, “Names, Semantics and Narrative in Ovid’s Polydorus and Polyxena Episodes and their Intertexts (Euripides’ Hecuba and Virgil’s Aeneid)”, SIFC 1, 2003, 142–59. 21.  P. Kruschwitz, “Phaethon, Clymene und Merops. Zu Ov. met. 1,762–764”, GB 24, 2005, 151–4. 22.  P. Parroni, “La fine di Ippolito in Euripide, Ovidio  e Seneca  e il problema dell’ambientazione dei due Ippoliti Euripidei”, Myrtia 21, 2006, 65–73. 23.  J. S. Mainero, “La apoteosis de Hércules en Ovidio (Met. IX, 103–272) ante la figura del héroe en la tradición helénica”, AFC 20, 2007, 127–43. 24.  H. Seng, “Ovids Phaethon-Tragödie (met. 1,747–2,400)”, in M. Janka, U. Schmit­ zer, H. Seng (eds.), Ovid: Werk – Kultur – Wirkung, Darmstadt 2007, 163–81.  25.  S. Laigneau-Fontaine, “Procris et Céphale dans les Métamorphoses: un épisode épique entre tragédie et comédie”, in I. Jouteur (ed.), La théâtralité de l’œuvre ovidienne, Paris 2009, 157–72. 26.  L. Coo, “The Speech of Onetor (Ovid Met. 11.346–381) and Its Tragic Model (Euripides I. T. 236–339)”, SIFC 8, 2010, 86–108.

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27.  A. Cucchiarelli, “Doppeltes Tabu: zu Ovid, Met. 3,98”, Gymnasium 117, 2010, 367–9. 28.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Le cycle thébain des Métamorphoses: un exemple de mytho­ graphie genrée?”, Eugesta 1, 2010, 99–120. 29.  R. Bruzzone, “Statues, Celibates and Goddesses in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Euripides’ Hippolytus”, CJ 108, 2012/13, 65–85. A general study of Ovid’s sources, including the Greek tragic authors, for Books 1–5, is the aforementioned (see ‘Literary genres’ and ‘Ancient Greek authors. Epic’) chapter by Alison Keith (18). Annie Houriez compares the treatment of the myth of Io in Aeschylus, Moschus and Ovid, and marks out this difference in the Latin poet’s treatment (7, 61): “Loin de renvoyer aux origins conflictuelles du monde comme dans la tragédie eschyléenne, le mythe se rapproche du quotidien, prend un visage familier, devient le miroir du monde contemporain”. Gildenhard and Zissos (15) consider that, although Ovid omits one of the three traditional topics of the Theban saga, namely the fall of Oedipus and the house of Laius, he compensates for this by assimilating the myth of Narcissus (met. 3.339–510) to the figure of Oedipus through certain parallels and oppositions to Sophocles’ OT, thereby justifying “Ovid’s rendition of the Narcissus and Echo episodes at this point in the poem. […] [H]ere as elsewhere the narratological enigmas of the Metamorphoses are rooted in the peculiar logic of Ovidian poetics” (130). Daniel Curley (19) affirms that the primary model for the Ovidian character of Tereus is in Sophocles’ Tereus, whose fragments he analyses along with Ovid’s metaliterary allusion and his means of adapting and renewing the Sophoclean material. Also Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (17, 90–3), concerning Procne’s crudelia gaudia (met. 6.653, and cf. Ach. Tat. 5.3.7 and 5.5.8), defends that “questi sentimenti contrastanti, il riso e la paura, rimandano senz’altro a mio parere a fonte tragica, Sofocle con grande probabilità” (92). Jorge Mainero (23) reads the Ovidian Hercules (met. 9.103–272) in light of Heracles in Sophocles’ Trachiniae, and links the apotheosis of the hero in Ovid to the historic context of Rome and the practise of imperial consecratio. Although more focused on the subsequent adaptation by Seneca, Charles Segal (2) compares Ovid’s description of Hippolytus’ death (met. 15.497–529) with his model in Euripides’ homonym play, and calls our attention to Ovid’s remarkable shift to the first-person narrative. He also finds Ovid closer to Euripides than to Seneca’s ‘baroque’ style (brief observations on the matter, in Zehnacker 1, 185–7). Piergiorgio Parroni (22) compares the presentation of this character in these three authors, contrasting Ovid’s text with that of Euripides and, at the same time, Seneca’s with the other two. Moreover, he underlines the fact that both Ovid and Seneca locate Hippolytus, on the journey which will see his death, in Athens and not in Troezen, as Euripides did; but he chooses not to accept, as some scholars do, that this geographical variation was present in Euripides’ first Hippolytus. Rachel Bruzzone (29) goes  a step fur-

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ther, relating the Ovidian Pygmalion (met. 10.243–97) with Euripides’ Hippolytus (66: “Pygmalion plays the role of a second Hippolytus”), based on the allusions that the Ovidian character makes to the diatribe against women of the tragic model (Hipp. 616–68), and particularly in Hippolytus’ comparison of a wife and a statue loved by a madman (Hipp. 631–2 – met. 10.263–5). Both share their ‘celibate miso­ gyny’ and both are punished by Venus for it. This, in turn, involves some links between Ovid’s Myrrha (met. 10.298–502) and Euripides’ Phaedra in the same tragedy, and the future death of Adonis. In his review of the documentation of the myth of Perseus and Andromeda, Vicente Cristóbal (3, 54–62 for met.; 62–4 for the amatory poems) compares the conserved fragments of Euripides’ Andromeda with Ovid’s treatment (met. 4.610–5.249). Franco Bellandi (6) asserts, in opposition to Bömer, that the Ovidian expression iam flumina nectaris ibant (met. 1.111) does indeed refer to wine, and for this, among other reasons, recalls Eur. Bacch. 142–3 ( ῥεῖ δὲ γάλακτι πέδον, ῥεῖ δ᾽ οἴνῳ, ῥεῖ δὲ μελισσᾶν / νέκταρι). According to him (41), “Ovidio sembra semplicemente aver sostituito la designazione diretta del vino […] con quella figurata di nectar, trasferendo quest’ultimo tropo iperbolico (= “liquido dolcissimo”) dal miele euripideo […] al liquore di Bacco”. Zsigmond Ritoók (8) links the opposition between the contemplative life and the practical life, which appears to be symbolised in the characters of Amphion and Zethus in Euripides’ Antiope, and Ovid’s Icarus and Daedalus (met. 8). Carole Newlands (10, 178–92) focuses on the models of Euripides and Apollonius in the ‘metamorphosis’ of Ovid’s Medea. Maurizio Ciappi (13) makes a thorough study of the 35 participants in the hunt of the Calydonian boar (8.298–328) and the various literary and figurative sources of the episode. He asserts that, above all regarding the characters of Theseus and Atalanta, Euripides’ Meleager was undoubtedly an important model for Ovid. Fabio Stok (5) examines the tragic sources of met. 13.408–28, especially Euripides’ Troades, a source also highlighted by Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (12) for Ovid’s entire Trojan saga. Michael Paschalis (20) studies, through the semantics and etymologizing of proper names, the episodes of Polydorus and Polyxena (met. 13.399–575) and their intertexts, namely Euripides’ Hecuba and Virgil (Aen. 3.49–57). Andrea Cucchiarelli (27) focuses on Ovid’s etymological games in the prediction of Cadmus’ destiny (3.98 serpentem spectas? et tu spectabere serpens) and of Euripides in his obvious model (Bacch. 1330 δράκων, from δέρκεσθαι). In response to a previous work by James Diggle, Peter Kruschwitz (21) offers an interpretation of Phaethon’s reference to Merops in met. 1.763. Firstly, as an element that will allow us to understand his own words better in met. 2.183–4 (cf.  trist. 3.429–30); and secondly, from  a literary history standpoint, he believes that with this mention Ovid insinuates that his version of the myth follows the tradition of Euripides. Sylvie Laigneau-Fontaine (25) recognises  a particular debt to Euripides for the tale of Cephalus and Procris (met. 7.661–865) in her study of the theatricality of the episode.

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Lyndsay Coo (26) points out the dependence of the shepherd Onetor’s speech (met. 11.346–381) on the messenger’s scene in Euripides I. T. 236–339. She interprets this in these terms (99): “Ovid’s Trachinian wolf may thus be seen an evocation of the tragic Orestes, whose connections to Apollo Lycius characterise him both as a wolfkiller and also as a wolf himself, the god’s cattle-killing representative”; and concludes (103): “This speech activates an association of Ovid’s story with that presented in I. T. where the chorus commemorate the eternal lament of Alcyone without committing themselves to a version in which it was the couple’s own impiety which led to their suffering. In turn this allows Ovid to claim tragic authority for his narrative”. David Larmour (4) centres his attention not on those episodes where Ovid “structures his own account of a particular story around the traditional tragic version”, but where “he focuses briefly on a particular aspect and then transfers other elements of the tale to a different episode somewhere else in the Metamorphoses. Thus, we may speak of a kind of contaminatio, with parts of one story being woven into another. This happens most noticeably with Medea, the Phaedra and Hippolytus affair, and the House of Atreus saga” (131–2). As a further instance of this kind of contaminatio, Daniel Curley (9) reads Itys’ cry “mater, mater!” (met. 6.640) as Ovid’s literary transformation of the doubled Itys, Itys!, a commonplace of Greek tragedy (Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides). Ciappi (11) makes  a thorough study of Ovid’s sources for the Procne-Philomela-Tereus episode, and points not only to the contaminatio of Greek authors such as Sophocles, Euripides, and even Theocritus, but also to Roman poets such as Accius, Virgil and Ovid himself (see esp. 441–2; 449–50). A similar study was devoted by Ciappi (14) to the myth of Phaethon and the Ovidian sources, among which Aeschylus’ Heliades and especially Euripides’ Phaethon occupy an outstanding position. Taking as his starting point this work by Ciappi, Helmut Seng (24) also focuses on Ovid’s debt to Euripides for the character of Phaethon. From his examination of the Ovidian episode, he concludes that its five-act structure brings the episode closer to the dramatic genre, but “ist episch erzählt und in ein größeres Epos integriert” (178). Another instance of contaminatio is found by Luciano Landolfi (16) in the two places where Ovid reflects Iphigeneia’s sacrifice (met. 12.24–38; 13.181–95). He compares both passages and, at the same time, contrasts them with the models of the three Greek tragedies and of certain Latin authors. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (28) studies how Ovid addresses his ‘Theban cycle` (Books 3–4) to female sexuality without losing sight of the models of Sophocles’ Oedipus rex and Euripides’ Bacchae, as well as his mythographic sources. c. Comedy – W. Hölscher, “Scherben des Ovid. Philemon und Baucis und der Plutos des Aristophanes”, in O. Brehm, S. Klie (eds.), MΟΥΣΙΚΟΣ ΑΝΗΡ: Festschrift für Max Wegner, Bonn 1992, 203–11. Wilhelm Hölscher compares the episode of Philemon and Baucis (met. 8.611–724), and more specifically, certain details of the meal offered to the guests, with contrary

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features surrounding the character of Chremylus in Aristophanes’ Pluto. The author does not presume to state a direct dependency between both texts; this is his conclusion (210): “Mir scheint, die Geschichte von Philemon und Baucis ist auch als ‘Gegen-Plutos’ zu lesen”. d. Lyric 1.  A. Bettenworth, “Ovid, Apollonios und Sappho: Die Liebessymptomatik der Medea in Ov. Met. 7,74–88”, Philologus 147, 2003, 101–13. 2.  L. Cadili, “Servio e una “invenzione” ovidiana (Serv. ad Verg. Georg. 1,20; Ov. met. 10,106–142)”, in M. Marin (ed.), Interpretare e comunicare: tradizioni di scuola nella letteratura latina tra III e VI secolo, Bari 2007, 23–38 (Auctores nostri. Studi e testi di letteratura cristiana antica 4). 3.  J. E. Hessler, “Eine Sonnenfinsternis und ihre Folgen”, in U.  Schlegelmilch, T. Thanner (eds.), Die Dichter und die Sterne. Beiträge zur lateinischen und griechischen Literatur für Ludwig Braun, Würzburg 2008, 1–12. 4.  M. Lazzeri, “I papauera di Verg. Aen. 9.436, Omero, Stesicoro e Ovidio (con una nota a Servio)”, SemRom 9, 2006, 145–60. Anja Bettenworth (1) asserts that, regarding Apollonius as the obvious model for the private meeting of Medea and Jason (met. 7.77–84), Ovid has reproduced the signa amoris according to paradigmatic fr. 31 V. of Sappho. Although his work is primarly focused on other authors, Luca Cadili dedicates some pages (2, 34–8) to noting the possible influence of Pindar (Pae. 4.50–3) on the structure of the Ovidian myth of Cyparissus (met. 10.106–42). Taking into consideration Archilochus’ fragment 122 W (74 D), where the poet mentions an eclipse and adynata involving dolphins, as well as certain instances of its influence among the Greek tragic authors, Jan Hessler (3) concludes that Ovid followed the wording of this text (and not only its contents) for his representation of the flood (met. 1.302–12; cf. trist. 1.8.1–16). For Lazzeri’s paper (4) on Stesichorus as  a source for Ovid, see ‘Homer’; for Bacchylides as a model for Ovid’s Meleager, see the papers by O’Connor (19), Tsagalis (35) and Fabre-Serris (74) above, in ‘Homer’. e. Philosophy 1.  F. della Corte, “Gli Empedoclea e Ovidio”, Maia 37, 1985, 3–12. 2.  M. M. Colavito, The Pythagorean Intertext in Ovid’s Metamorphoses. A New Interpretation, Lewiston-Lampeter-Queenston 1989 (revised version of Pythagorean Philosophy in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses”, Ph. D. diss. State Univ. of New York at Stony Brook 1988). 3.  P. Hardie, “The speech of Pythagoras in Ovid Metamorphoses 15: Empedoclean epos”, CQ 45, 1995, 204–14.

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4.  N. Holzberg, Ovid. Dichter und Werk, München 1997. Reviews: J. Fabre-Serris, REL 75, 1997, 331; B. W. Häuptli, MH 54, 1997, 247–8; W. S. Anderson, AJPh 119, 1998, 651–5; J. H. Brouwers, Lampas 31, 1998, 268–71; B.  Czapla, Poetica 30, 1998, 224–7; E. J. Kenney, CR 48, 1998, 29–31; A.  Kohl, Anregung 44, 1998, 271; V.  Manzini, Maia 50, 1998, 560; U.  Rütten, DaSiU 45, 1998, 37–8; U. Schmitzer, Gymnasium 105, 1998, 358–61; P. Tordeur, AC 67, 1998, 351; J. Den Boeft, Mnemosyne 52, 1999, 357–9; M. Fuhrmann, Klio 81, 1999, 547; B.  Rochette, LEC 1999, 285; G.  Dobesch, Tyche 15, 2000, 216–27; K.  Galinsky, Gnomon 72, 2000, 213–16; S. Viarre, Latomus 59, 2000, 464–5. 5.  K. Galinsky, “The speech of Pythagoras at Ovid Metamorphoses 15.75–478”, in F. Cairns, M. Heath (eds.), Papers of the Leeds International Latin Seminar 10, Leeds 1998, 313–36 (ARCA 38). 6.  S. T. Newmyer, “Ovid on the moral grounds for vegetarianism”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65.  Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 477–86. 7.  A. Setaioli, “L’impostazione letteraria del discorso di Pitagora nel XV libro delle Metamorfosi”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 487–514. 8.  S. Wheeler, Narrative Dynamics in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Tübingen 2000 (Classica Monacensia 20). Reviews: R. A. Smith, BMCR 2001.11.23 (cf.  BMCR 2001.12.18); M.  PascoPranger, CR 52, 2002, 65–6; F. Bessone, Gnomon 76, 2004, 68–70. 9.  R. B. Egan, “Narcissus Transformed: Rationalized Myth in Plato’s Phaedrus”, in M.  Zimmerman, R.  Th. Van der Paardt (eds.), Metamorphic Reflections: Essays Presented to Ben Hijmans at His 75th Birthday, Leuven 2004, 143–59. 10. Y. Lehmann, “Anthropologie et zoologie chez les premiers philosophes romains”, in L. De Poli, Y. Lehmann (eds.), Naissance de la science dans l’Italie antique et moderne. Actes du colloque franco-italien des 1er et 2 décembre 2000 (Université de Haute-Alsace), Bern-Frankfurt am Main 2004, 37–51. 11.  L. Oberrauch, “Metempsychose, Universalgeschichte und Autopsie. Die Rede des Pythagoras in Ovid, Met. XV als Kernstück epischer Legitimation”, Gymnasium 112, 2005, 107–21. 12.  U. Schmitzer, “Reserare oracula mentis. Abermals zu Funktion der Pythagorasrede in Ovids Metamorphosen”, SIFC 4, 2006, 32–56. 13. C. Harrauer, “Traditionslinien und Neuerung in Ovids Schöpfungsvorstellungen”, in I. Tar, P.  Mayer (eds.), Klassizismus und Modernität. Beiträge der internationalen Konferenz in Szeged (11–13. September 2003), Szeged 2007, 124–34. 14.  E. Andreoni Fontecedro, “Echi di un discorso sacro: Pitagora nella trascrizione di Ovidio. Rifrazioni ovidiane”, Aufidus 65, 2008, 7–30. 15.  J. T. Hamilton, “Ovids Echographie”, in E. Goebel, E. Bronfen (eds.), Narziss und Eros: Bild oder Text?, Göttingen 2009, 18–40.

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16.  D. Nelis, “Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.416–51: noua monstra and the foedera naturae”, in P. Hardie (ed.), Paradox and the Marvellous in Augustan Literature and Culture, Oxford-New York 2009, 248–67; Italian transl. “Ovidio, Metamorfosi 1,416–451: nova membra e foedera naturae”, in F. Citti, L. Pasetti, D. Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza  e letteratura, Firenze 2014, 101–22 (Biblioteca Nuncius. Studi e testi 74). 17.  S. Maso, “Il «filo» del destino: una prospettiva ermeneutica”, Lexis 29, 2011, 209–27. 18.  B. Schneeweiss, “Ovids Metamorphosen und Platons Timaios”, WHB 53, 2011, 16–32. 19.  D. Nelis, “Empedoclean epic: how far can you go?”, Dictynna 11, 2014, sine pagina. 20.  P. Martínez Astorino, La apoteosis en las Metamorfosis de Ovidio. Diseño estructural, mitologización y «lectura» en la representación de apoteosis y sus contextos, Bahía Blanca 2017. Reviews: uid. supra ‘a. Epic’. Logically, the episode which has attracted the most attention in this section is Pythagoras’ speech (met. 15.60–478), and the bibliography of its sources is extremely extensive (see Holzberg 4, 151–3; Newmyer 6, 477–9; Wheeler 8, 115–27; Oberrauch 11, 107–8; Martínez Astorino, 20, 281). The concept of Ovid following Pythagoras’ doctrines honestly and consistently is the thesis defended by Maria Maddalena Colavito (2), although this theory has traditionally been rejected (see e.g. Newmyer 6, 478; Setaioli 7, 491–2). Philip Hardie (3) starts from the certainty that in Pythagoras’ speech (205) “the broad outline, as well as much of the detail, is paralleled in the philosophical hexameter poetry of Empedocles” (for this connection, see Della Corte 1, 5–6; some partial corrections in Andreoni Fontecedro 14, 10). After an analysis of the speech from this perspective he reaches this conclusion (212): “To trace the Empedoclean in the Speech of Pythagoras is thus to follow the outline of a genealogy of the Metamorphoses as hexameter epos. The instinct of those critics who have sought in the Speech some kind of general reflection of, or comment on, the poem as a whole is sound, but the mistake has been too narrowly to concentrate the search for a ‘key’ in the subject-matter itself of transformation. The unifying ground is rather to be located at the level of poetics, in the construction of a literary history within the text. […] To see the Roman epic tradition as Empedoclean epos is to highlight the themes of change and process, a convenient way for Ovid as poet of the Metamorphoses to proclaim his own centrality in the tradition; but it may also prompt us to a rereading of earlier epics”. Damien Nelis presents his article (19, § 1) as “an extended footnote” to Hardie’s, since his aim is to extend that “story of Empedoclean elements in Latin epic poetry […] one step farther and to include Lucan”. He deals with Ovid and Empedocles esp. in § 27. A reading of Pythagoras’ speech as an ‘anthology of philosophies’ is offered by Galinsky (5, esp. 321–3). The chapter by Aldo Setaioli (7) is also devoted to the

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doctrinal sources of the speech (Empedocles, but also Sotion, ‘Ocellus Lucanus’, and others down to Lucretius). But the most important contribution of this work is the comparison with pseudo-Aristotle’s De mundo, a treatise which Setaioli defends as a source of the speech, thus excluding the theory that the work post-dates Ovid. A thorough micro- and macro-structural examination of the speech, considered against the background of the dissemination of Neopythagoreanism in Ovid’s contemporary Rome, is that of Ulrich Schmitzer (12). Emanuela Andreoni Fontecedro (14, esp. 7–16) spells out the debt to Empedocles in the passage where Ovid addresses the cyclical transformation of the elements (met. 15.237–51); the scholar asserts that here, Heraclitus is Ovid’s primary source. Bruno Schneeweiss (18) defends the interesting thesis that Plato’s Timaeus is the only work in Antiquity where both the contents of Pythagoras’ speech and of the creation of the world exist alongside each other (met. 1.5–88), and is therefore an obvious source of both Ovidian passages. For this reason, he makes a detailed analysis of both texts. Christine Harrauer (13) also focuses on the Ovidian representations of the creation of the world (met. 1.5–88, ars 2.467–76, fast. 1.103–14), and considers its degree of originality compared with other ‘Schöpfungsvorstellungen’ in the Greek and Latin tradition. Damien Nelis (16) maintains that the influence of Empedocles must also be acknowledged for Ovid’s cosmogony, as exemplifed by the episode of the creation of animals and the birth of Python (met. 1.416–51). The comparison with similar zoogony descriptions in Apollonius Rhodius (4.672–82) and Lucretius (5.837–44) allows Nelis to defend a common use of Empedocles as a model. He also lends some attention to the historical and political implications of the Empedoclean discors concordia (met. 1.433). In addition to linking together elements of the Ovidian Narcissus with the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, as we have seen, John Hamilton also recalls (15, 30) the connection established since ancient times between narkissos and narkê; this allows him to mention Plato, in whose Meno (80a)  Socrates is described as narkê. He connects this, in turn, with the dialogue Alcibiades I, in which (36) “Sokrates, die narkê, torpediert also die narzissistische Jugend”, above all questioning how one can be simultaneously subject and object of knowledge (Alc. 1, 132e4–133a3). However, Ovid in turn transforms and inverts the philosophical approach (37): “Im widerhallenden Raum in Ovids Gedicht hingegen, das provokant Narciss’ Schicksal mit dem Grundsatz von Delphi verbindet, verwandelt sich der Philosoph, wenn er sich selbst sieht, in einen Jungen, der, wenn er liebt, nur sich selbst liebt”. Rory Egan (9, 143) tries to prove that Plato Phdr. 255A1-E4 is “possibly the earliest extant literary witness to the mythical Narcissus”, though the passage “presupposes even earlier versions that were familiar to Plato’s contemporary readers”. The author relates (149–50) Ovid’s Narcissus to Plato’s dialogue through the importance given in both texts to the theme of self-knowledge, which is absent from other literary instances (Pausanias, the mythographer Konon, but probably not completely from the second [180] and the first [185] Vatican mythographers). In 150–2 he analyses certain common elements between both texts, especially Pl. Phdr. 255D8 κατὰ ταὐτὰ

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αὖ ποθεῖ καὶ ποθεῖται, and Ov. met. 3.426 dumque petit petitur, pariterque. He shows sympathies for C. Zimmerman’s proposal (The Pastoral Narcissus. A Study of the First Idyll of Theocritus, Lanham 1994, 19–21) “that Corinna treated the Narcissus myth and that Ovid knew her version” (153), and adds: “If Corinna did that, and if she is indeed to be given an archaic dating, Plato is at least as likely as Ovid to have known her work”. Stefano Maso (17) examines the theme of thread and spinning, as represented in Catullus (64.62–201) and Ovid (met. 8.152–82; epist. 10), in light of the original model of Platonic Er (Resp. 10.614b-621b). Yves Lehmann (10) compares Ovid’s very complete treatment of the relation between man and animals with that made by distinct philosophical currents, especially Stoicism and Epicureanism. Newmyer’s chapter (6) is dedicated to this very subject, specifically to the defense of vegetarianism in Pythagoras’ speech and to the probable influence of Theophrastus’ οἰκειότης. f. Mythographers 1.  A. Cameron, Greek Mythography in the Roman World, Oxford 2004. Reviews: E.  Federico, IncidAntico 3, 2005, 229–33; F.  Mora, Polifemo 5, 2005, 42–3; S. Trzaskoma, BMCR 2005.09.20; J. J. Clauss, CPh 101, 2006, 295–9; K. F. Fletcher, CJ 101, 2006, 111–13; T. S. Scheer, Sehepunkte 6.4, 2006, s.p.; P. V. Stanley, Vergilius 52, 2006, 235–40; B. Cowan, JHE 127, 2007, 172–3; S. D. Smith, IJCT 15, 2009, 127–35. 2.  J. Pàmias, “Auis nunc unica, Caeneu!: el mito de Ceneo de Acusilao a Ovidio”, in Mª. C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª. Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 49–68. The debate over mythographical sources of met. is still ongoing. Alan Cameron (1) offers an excellent, up-to-date vision of the manuals which Ovid could have utilised (esp. ch. 1: “An Anonymous Ancient Commentary on Ovid’s Metamorphoses?”, 3–32, and ch. 10: “The Roman Poets”, 261–303 on Ovid). Limiting ourselves to the pre-Hellenistic period, Jordi Pàmias (2) looks at the connections of the Ovidian Caeneus with Acusilaus and Herodotus. g. Others 1.  O. Wattel-De Croizant, “Ovide et l’enlèvement d’Europe, aspects littéraires et mosaïques du Ier siècle”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 79–100 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 2.  A. V. Podosinov, “Folklore centre-asiatique dans les Balkans? (à propos d’Ovide, Metam. XV, 356–360)” (Russ.), in S. B. Bernštejn (ed.), Études balkaniques antiques. La région des Carpathes et des Balkans d’un point de vue diachronique / Matériels prélimin. à un Coll. internat., Moskva 1984, 34–5.

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3.  T. Visser, “Griechische Vasenbilder und „Metamorphosen“ Ovids”, AU 40, 1997, 4–20. 4.  J. Wöhrmann, “Ein für alle Male ists Orpheus, wenn es singt. Eine mythisch-mythologische Gestalt in Text und Bild”, AU 40, 1997, 21–35. Odile Wattel-De Croizant (1) considers the probable influence of mosaics containing the Europa episode in Ovid’s version. Podosinov (2) suggests the possibility that, in the tale of the men and women covered in feathers (met. 15.356–60), Ovid alludes to Aristeas of Proconnesus, through authors who use his work, such as Aeschylus. Tamara Visser (3) examines the presence of the myths of Niobe, Actaeon and Europa on Greek vessels from the 5th and 4th c. bce and compares these visual representations with the Ovidian tales. In her opinion, while the paintings are more interested in showing the strength of the gods, Ovid focuses on the human feelings, depriving the gods of any glorious role in the episodes. The study of Jürgen Wöhrmann (4) is similar, focusing on the character Orpheus (Books 10–11) and a Greek relief from the 5th c. bce. 3. Hellenistic Authors a. Poets 1.  W. S. M. Nicoll, “Cupid, Apollo, and Daphne (Ovid, Met. 1.452 ff.)”, CQ 30, 1980, 174–82. 2.  V. Castellani, “Two Divine Scandals, Ovid Met. 2.680 ff. and 4.171 ff. and His Sources”, TAPhA 110, 1980, 37–50. 3.  I. Baldassarre, “Piramo  e Tisbe: dal mito all’immagine”, in L’art décoratif à Rome à la fin de la république et au debut du principat. Table Ronde organisée par l’École française de Rome (Rome, 10–11 mai 1979), Rome 1981, 337–47 (Collection de l’École Française de Rome 55). 4.  W. M. Clarke, “Achelous in Anthologia Palatina 12.51 (Callimachus)”, CPh 76, 1981, 297–300. 5.  M. Lausberg, “Ein epigrammatisches Motiv in Ovids Metamorphosen”, GB 10, 1981, 181–91. 6.  G. Lieberg, “Ovid’s tale of Philemon and Baucis”, Mosaic (Special Issue on the Writings of Publius Ovidius Naso) 12, 1981, 93–104. 7.  D. Z. Nikitas, “Zur Leukipposgeschichte”, Hellenica 33, 1981, 14–29. 8.  F. Williams, “Augustus and Daphne: Ovid Metamorphoses 1.560–64 and Phylarchus FGrH 81 F 32 (b)”, in F. Cairns (ed.), PLLS 3, 1981, 249–57. 9.  P. Radici Colace, “Il nuovo Callimaco di Lille, Ovidio  e Stazio”,  RFIC  110, 1982, 140–9.

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10.  A. H. F. Griffin, “Unrequited love. Polyphemus and Galatea in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, G&R 30, 1983, 190–7. 11.  A. La Penna, “La parola translucida di Ovidio. Sull’episodio di Ermafrodito, Met. IV 285–388”, Vichiana 12, 1983, 235–43. 12.  M.-K. Gamel, “Baucis and Philemon. Paradigm or paradox?”, Helios 11, 1984, 117–31. 13.  R. O. A. M. Lyne, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Callimachus, and l’art pour l’art”, MD 12, 1984, 9–34. 14.  A. Taliercio, “Alcuni aspetti dell’etiologia in età augustea”, RCCM 27, 1985, 13–21. 15.  H. Hofmann, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses: carmen perpetuum, carmen deductum”, in F. Cairns (ed.), PLLS 5, 1986, 223–41. 16.  P. E. Knox, Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Traditions of Augustan Poetry, Cambridge 1986 (Cambridge Philol. Soc. Suppl. 11). Reviews: J. Fabre, REL 65, 1987, 331; W. S. Anderson, AJPh 109, 1988, 457–61; A. A. R. Henderson, CR 38, 1988, 27–8; H. D. Jocelyn, RFIC, 116, 1988, 125–6; S. E. Hinds, CPh 84, 1989, 266–71; P. Tordeur, AC 57, 1988, 401; D. F. Kennedy, JRS 79, 1989, 209–10. 17.  J. Fabre-Serris, “La narration illustrée. Étude de quelques digressions dans l’Éneide ovidienne”, REL 64, 1986, 172–84. 18.  A. H. F. Griffin, “Erysichton – Ovid’s Giant?”, G&R 33, 1986, 55–63. 19.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “La metamorfosi di Erisittone. Una tragicommedia ovidiana”, in Munus amicitiae. Scritti in memoria di Alessandro Ronconi, Firenze 1986, I, 57–92 (Quaderni di Filologia Latina). 20.  A. Perutelli, “Enotea, la capanna e il rito magico. L’intreccio dei modelli in Petron. 135–136”, MD 17, 1986, 125–43. 21.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovidlektüre heute”, in H.-J. Glücklich (ed.), Lateinische Literatur, heute wirkend, Göttingen 1987, I, 23–50. 22.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Erisittone prima e dopo Ovidio”, Prometheus 13, 1987, 133–59. 23.  S. Hinds, The Metamorphosis of Persephone. Ovid and the self-conscious Muse, Cambridge 1987 (Cambridge Classical Studies). Reviews: W. S. M. Nicoll, CR 38, 1988, 245–7; M. von Albrecht, AJPh 109, 1988, 461–3; W. Anderson, Gnomon 61, 1989, 356–8; J. Fabre, REL 66, 1988, 312; D. F. Kennedy, JRS 79, 1989, 209–10; B. R. Nagle, CW 82, 1988/89, 449–50; R. A. Tucker, CB 64, 1989, 102; S. Viarre, AC 58, 1989, 339–40; B. Rochette, LEC 58, 1990, 402–3; R. F. Thomas, CPh 85, 1990, 77–80; D. Porte, RPh 65, 1991, 71–2. 24.  G. O. Hutchinson, Hellenistic Poetry, Oxford 1988. 25.  J. Danielewicz, “Ovid’s hymn to Bacchus (Met. 4.11 ff.): tradition and originality”, Euphrosyne 18, 1990, 73–84.

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26.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, Tra Ovidio e Seneca, Bologna 1990. Reviews: G.  Nuzzo, BStudLat 21, 1991, 58–62; A.  Borgo, Orpheus 13, 1992, 413–15; L.  Castagna, Prometheus 18, 1992, 92–4; C. D. N. Costa, CR 42, 1992, 196–7; P. Esposito, Vichiana 3, 1992, 270–4; G. Garbarino, CCC 13, 1992, 357–8; E. Mignogna, Maia 44, 1992, 215–16; M. L. Ricci, InvLuc 13/14, 1991/92, 315–17; F. Stok, GIF 44, 1992, 150–1; D. Weber, WS 105, 1992, 271–2; P.-J. Dehon, Latomus 52, 1993, 931–2; G. Focardi, Sileno 19, 1993, 596; M. Tartari Chersoni, RFIC 121, 1993, 226–8. 27.  P. M. C. Forbes Irving, Metamorphosis in Greek Myths, Oxford 1990. Reviews: R. L. Gordon, CR 41, 1991, 349–51; P.  Johnston, BMCR 1991.03.05; J. Sweeney, CB 67, 1991, 50–2; Y. Vernière, REG 104, 1991, 264–5; C. Catenacci, RFIC 120, 1992, 215–22; I. P. Culianu, JR 72, 1992, 486–7; E. S. Deangeli, CW 85, 1992, 135; F.-X. Druet, LEC 60, 1992, 169; W. Hansen, CPh 87, 1992, 258–60. 28.  J. Wills, “Callimachean models for Ovid’s ‘Apollo-Daphne’”, MD 24, 1990, 143–56. 29.  A. H. F. Griffin, “Philemon and Baucis in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, G&R 38, 1991, 62–74. 30.  M. Janan, “‘The Labyrinth and the Mirror’: Incest and Influence in Metamorphoses 9”, Arethusa 24, 1991, 239–56. 31.  C. E. Newlands, “Ovid’s Ravenous Raven”, CJ 86, 1991, 244–55. 32.  S. Casali, “Enone, Apollo pastore e l’amore immedicabile: giochi ovidiani su di un topo elegiaco”, MD 28, 1992, 85–100. 33.  A. Houriez, “D’Eschyle à Ovide: le traitement du mythe d’Io à travers divers genres littéraires”, Uranie 2, 1992, 43–62. 34.  E. Livrea, “The Tempest in Callimachus’ Hecale”, CQ 42, 1992, 147–51. 35.  R. Robert, “Ars regenda Amore. Séduction érotique et plaisir esthétique: de Praxitèle à Ovide”, MEFRA 104, 1992, 373–438. 36.  C. Santini, “La morte di Orfeo da Fanocle a Ovidio”, GIF 44, 1992, 173–81. 37.  M. P. Wilhelm, “The Medeas of Euripides, Apollonius and Ovid”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 43–57. 38.  R. M. Wilhelm, “The Metamorphoses of the Golden Age in Greek and Latin Writers”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 58–74.  39.  F. Grewing, “Einige Bemerkungen zum Proömium der ‘Metamorphosen’ Ovids”, Hermes 121, 1993, 246–52. 40.  P. E. Knox, “Philetas and Roman Poetry”, in F. Cairns (ed.), PLLS 7, 1993, 61–83 (ARCA 32). 41.  P. A. Rosenmeyer, “A Cold Reception in Callimachus’ Victoria Berenices (S. H. 257–265)”, CQ 43, 1993, 206–14. 42.  S. J. Heyworth, “Some Allusions to Callimachus in Latin Poetry”, MD 33, 1994, 51–79.

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43.  C. P. Jones, “A geographical setting for the Baucis and Philemon legend (Ovid Metamorphoses 8.611–724)”, HSCPh 96, 1994, 203–24. 44.  L. Landolfi, “Europa: da Mosco a Ovidio”, BStudLat 24, 1994, 500–26. 45.  K. S. Myers, Ovid’s Causes. Cosmogony and Aetiology in the Metamorphoses, Ann Arbor 1994. Reviews: D. F. Kennedy, G&R 42, 1995, 227; S. M. Wheeler, BMCR 1995.03.31; S. J. Harrison, CR 46, 1996, 24–5; M. W. Musgrove, AJPh 117, 1996, 338–41; W. S. Anderson, CW 90, 1997, 61; J. Loehr, IJCT 4, 1998, 629–31. 46.  K. S. Myers, “Ultimus ardor: Pomona and Vertumnus in Ovid’s Metamor­ phoses 14.623–771”, CJ 89, 1994, 225–50. 47.  C. Zimmerman, The Pastoral Narcissus. A Study of the First Idyll of Theocritus, Lanham 1994. Review: N. Hopkinson, CR 45, 1995, 433. 48.  A. Cameron, Callimachus and His Critics, Princeton-New Jersey 1995. Reviews: A. Griffiths, TLS 4854, 1996, 9; P. E. Knox, EMC 40, 1996, 413–24; D.  Donnet, AC 66, 1997, 403–5; D.  Donnet, LEC 65, 1997, 83; F. T. Griffiths, AJPh 118, 1997, 339–43; G. Zanker, Prudentia 29, 1997, 34–46; J. Clack, CW 91, 1998, 304–5; A.-T. Cozzoli, Eikasmos 9, 1998, 135–54; V.  Knight, CR 48, 1998, 275–7. 49.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Jeux de modèles dans l’alexandrinisme romain: les hommages à Gallus dans la Bucolique X et l’Élégie I, 20 de Properce et ses échos ovidiens”, REL 73, 1995, 124–37. 50.  A. Hurst, “Ispirazione alessandrina nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in G. Reggi (ed.), Aspetti della poesia epica latina: atti del corso d’aggiornamento per docenti di latino  e greco del Canton Ticino (Lugano 21–22–23 ottobre 1993), Lugano 1995, 93–107. 51.  G. Reggi, “Le Argonautiche nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio. Studio su fonti, modelli et possibilità d’uso didattico”, in G.  Reggi (ed.), Aspetti della poesia epica latina: atti del corso d’aggiornamento per docenti di latino e greco del Canton Ticino (Lugano 21–22–23 ottobre 1993), Lugano 1995, 109–41. 52.  S. Viarre, “L’enfant Amour dans la poésie augustéenne”, in D.  Auger (ed.), Enfants et enfances dans les mythologies. Actes du VIIe colloque du Centre de recherches mythologiques de l’Université de Paris-X (Chantilly, 16–18 septembre 1992), Paris 1995, 197–215. 53.  A. S. Hollis, “Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.445 ff.: Apollo, Daphne, and the Pythian crown”, ZPE 112, 1996, 69–73. 54.  D. Konstan, “De Deméter  a Ceres: construcciones de la diosa en Homero, Calímaco y Ovidio”, Synthesis 3, 1996, 67–90. 55.  J. Loehr, Ovids Mehrfacherklärungen in der Tradition aitiologischen Dichtens, Stuttgart-Leipzig 1996 (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 74).

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Reviews: B. W. Häuptli, MH 54, 1997, 246–7; S. Viarre, REL 75, 1997, 332–3; K. S. Myers, IJCT 6, 2000, 618–21; R. Schilling, Gnomon 72, 2000, 77–9. 56.  T. D. Papanghelis, “De tergore partem exiguam: the case for a programmatic metaphor in Ovid, Met. 8.649–50”, Philologus 140, 1996, 277–84. 57.  H. Bernsdorff, “Arachnes Efeusaum (Ovid, Metamorphosen 6, 127–8)”, Hermes 125, 1997, 347–56. 58.  G. Rosati, “Il bel ritroso e il rifiuto d’amore: un modello callimacheo nelle Metamorfosi”, in G. Papponetti (ed.), Metamorfosi. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi (Sulmona, 20–22 novembre 1994), Sulmona 1997, 167–80. 59.  G. Tissol, The Face of Nature. Wit, Narrative, and Cosmic Origins in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Princeton-New Jersey 1997. Reviews: B. W. Boyd, Vergilius 44, 1998, 151–8; J.  Filée, LEC 66, 1998, 173; N. Holzberg, CR 48, 1998, 313–15; L. Morgan, JRS 88, 1998, 195–6; K. S. Myers, CJ 93, 1998, 452–4; S. Spence, CO 75, 1998, 151; S. Casali, RFIC 127, 1999, 348–53; A. Gosling, Scholia 8, 1999, 126–30; A. Loupiac, Latomus 58, 1999, 685; M. Helzle, CRCL 27, 2000, 332–6; C. E. Newlands, CW 93, 2000, 110–11; J. B. Solodow, BMCR 2000.01.26; L. Spahlinger, Gnomon 72, 2000, 261–3. 60.  S. M. Wheeler, “Changing names: the miracle of Iphis in Ovid Metamorphoses 9”, Phoenix 51, 1997, 190–202. 61.  Mª C. Álvarez Morán, “Filemón y Baucis”, in E. Fernández de Mier, F. Piñero (eds.), Amores míticos, Madrid 1999, 117–35 (= SFulg 16, 2006, 123–37). 62.  J. Fabre-Serris, Mythologie et littérature à Rome. La réécriture des mythes aux Iers siècles avant et après J.-C., Lausanne 1998. Reviews: F. Cupaiolo, BStudLat 29, 1999, 223–4; A. Deremetz, REL 77, 1999, 332–3; R. Le Mer, Archives de sciences sociales des religions 108, 1999, 72–3; B. Powell, BMCR 1999.09.06; F. Prescendi, MH 56, 1999, 255; P. Desy, AC 69, 2000, 344–5; P. Fedeli, Aufidus 14.42, 2000, 133–4; M. Fox, JRS 90, 2000, 236–7; N. Méthy, RBPh 78, 2000, 204–6; B. Rochette, Kernos 13, 2000, 310–13. 63.  L. Graverini, “Sulle ali del vento: evoluzione di un’immagine tra Ovidio ed Apuleio”, Prometheus 25, 1999, 243–6. 64.  C. Segal, “Ovid’s Meleager and the Greeks: Trials of Gender and Genre”, HSPh 99, 1999, 301–40. 65.  D. B. Doll, Ovid’s Metamorphoses 13.623–14.608: the influence of Apollonius’ Argonautica upon Ovid’s reading of Virgil, Diss. Boulder (Colo.) 2000. 66.  N. P. Gross, “Allusion and Rhetorical Wit in Ovid, Metamorphoses 13”, Scholia 9, 2000, 54–65. 67. *S. Papaïoannou, “Κύλλαρος και Υλονόμη: μια ρομαντική ιστορία και η λειτουργία της στην καρδιά μιας επικής τραγωδίας”, in G. M. Sifakis (ed.), Κτερίσματα: φιλολογικα μελετήματα ἀφιερωμένα στον Ἰω. Σ. Καμπίτση (1938–1990), Irakleio 2000, 183–99 (Symvoles stis epistimes tou anthropou. Filologia).

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68.  A. Stramaglia, “Piramo e Tisbe prima di Ovidio? PMich inv. 3793 e la narra­ tiva d’intrattenimento alla fine dell’età tolemaica”, ZPE 134, 2001, 81–106. 69.  P. Edwards, “Τις ἄλλος ἔχει: an echo of Callimachus in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, NECJ 29, 2002, 16–24. 70.  M. Fucecchi, “In cerca di una forma: vicende dell’epillio (e di alcuni suoi personaggi) in età augustea. Appunti su Teseo e Orfeo nelle Metamorfosi”, MD 49, 2002, 85–116. 71.  A. M. Keith, “Sources and Genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd, Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston-Köln 2002, 235–69. 72.  S. Raval, “Cross-Dressing and ‘Gender Trouble’ in the Ovidian Corpus”, Helios 29, 2002, 149–72. 73.  A. Bettenworth, “Ovid, Apollonios und Sappho: Die Liebessymptomatik der Medea in Ov. Met. 7,74–88”, Philologus 147, 2003, 101–13. 74.  M. Labate, “Ironia e iperbole nell’immaginario epico di Ovidio”, in L. Cristante (ed.), Incontri triestini di filologia classica I (2001–2), Trieste 2003, 139–53. 75.  A. N. Michalopoulos, “Working on an Established Etymological Background: Ovid and His Hellenistic Predecessors”, in C. Nifadopoulos (ed.), Etymologia. Studies in Ancient Etymology. Proceedings of the Cambridge Conference on Ancient Etymology (25–27 September 2000), Münster 2003, 165–75 (The Henry Sweet Society Studies in the History of Linguistics 9). 76.  L. Morgan, “Child’s Play: Ovid and His Critics”, JRS 93, 2003, 66–91. 77.  I. Aurenty, “Des Cyclopes à Rome”, in O. Bianchi, O. Thévenaz (eds.), Conceptions et représentations de l’extraordinaire dans le monde antique. Actes du colloque international, Lausanne, 20–22 mars 2003, Bern etc. 2004, 35–52. 78.  P. Hardie, “Approximative similes in Ovid: incest and doubling”, Dyctinna 1, 2004, 83–122. 79.  J. Murray, “The Metamorphoses of Erysichthon: Callimachus, Apollonius, and Ovid”, in A. Harder, R. Regtuit, G. Wakker (eds.), Callimachus II, Louvain 2004, 207–42 (Hellenica Groningana 7). 80. Y. Syed, “Ovid’s Use of the Hymnic Genre in the Metamorphoses”, in A. Barchiesi, J. Rüpke, S. Stephens (eds.), Rituals in Ink. A Conference on Religion and Literary Production in Ancient Rome held at Standford University in February 2002, Stuttgart 2004, 99–113 (Potsdamer altertumswissenchaftliche Beiträge 10). 81.  H. Van Tress, Poetic Memory. Allusion in the Poetry of Callimachus and the Metamorphoses of Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2004. Reviews: Y. Durbec, BMCR 2005.02.03; H. White, Orpheus 26, 2005, 298–300; J. A. Farrell, CR 57, 2007, 343–4; F. Klein, RPh 82, 2008, 207–9. 82.  S. Boehringer, “Iphis était une femme: (Ovide, Mét. 9, 666–797)”, in F. Lestringant et al. (eds.), Liber amicorum. Mélanges sur la littérature antique et moderne à la mémoire de Jean-Pierre Néraudau, Paris 2005, 83–94 (Colloques, congrès et conférences sur la Renaissance 48).

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83.  J. Brasil Fontes, “Erysichtonis ora profani: no crisol das formas mutáveis”, LCláss 9, 2005, 181–214. 84.  F. Klein, “Rursus pomi jactu remorata secundi (Mét, X,671): la mora et la poétique ovidienne de la brièveté”, Dictynna 2, 2005, 103–24. 85. T. Gärtner, “Die Erzählung vom Kalydonischen Eber und Meleager bei Homer, in der Tattoo Elegy und bei Ovid”, APF 52, 2006, 123–30. 86.  G. O. Hutchinson, “The metamorphosis of metamorphosis: P. Oxy. 4711 and Ovid”, ZPE 155, 2006, 71–84. 87.  G. Rosati, “Form in Motion: Weawing the Text in the Metamorphoses”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Reading in Ovid, Oxford 2006, 334–50 (= in P.  Hardie, A.  Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations. Essays on Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 240–53). 88.  Z. Acél, “Der Orpheus des Epitaphios Bionos in den Werken von Vergil und Ovid”, AAntHung 47, 2007, 349–68. 89.  H. Bernsdorff, “P.Oxy. 4711 and the poetry of Parthenius”, JHS 127, 2007, 1–28. 90.  L. Cadili, “Servio e una “invenzione” ovidiana (Serv. ad Verg. Georg. 1,20; Ov. met. 10,106–142)”, in M.  Marin (ed.), Interpretare  e comunicare: tradizioni di scuola nella letteratura latina tra III e VI secolo, Bari 2007, 23–38 (Auctores nostri. Studi e testi di letteratura cristiana antica 4).  91.  Y. Durbec, “Trois notes de philologie: Philitas de Cos (fr. 10 Pow.), la Lesbou ktisis, Apollonios de Rhodes (?) (fr. 12 Pow.), Posidippe (Epigr. 21 AB)”, ZPE 160, 2007, 33–6. 92.  T. Gärtner, “Die Geschlechtsmetamorphose der ovidischen Caenis und ihr hellenistischer Hintergrund”, Latomus 66, 2007, 891–9. 93.  G. Mereu, “Polifemo e Galatea: riscritture del mito da Teocrito a Bernardino Martirano”, Aufidus 21, 2007, 55–85. 94.  K. Waldner, “Griechische und römische Aitiologie in Ovids Metamorphosen”, in A.  Bierl, R.  Lämmle, K.  Wesselmann (eds.), Literatur und Religion. Wege zu einer mythisch-rituellen Poetik bei den Griechen, Berlin-New York 2007, II.1/2, 203–37. 95.  T. Gärtner, “Die hellenistische Katalogdichtung des Phanokles über homosexuelle Liebesbeziehungen. Untersuchungen zur tendenziellen Gestaltung und zum literarischen Nachleben”, Mnemosyne 61, 2008, 18–44. 96.  R. Simons, “Cupidos Bogen: zu Tibull 2, 1, 67–72 und Ovid Met. 1, 454–465”, Philologus 152, 2008, 270–81. 97.  F. Stok, “Metamorfosi di Ecuba (Ov. met. 7, 362; 13, 406)”, in P. Arduini et al. (eds.), Studi offerti ad Alessandro Perutelli, Roma 2008, II, 503–11. 98.  V. Subias-Konofal, “La ronde d’Apollon et Daphné: prière et poésie au seuil des Métamorphoses”, Euphrosyne 36, 2008, 105–18.

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99. B. Acosta-Hughes, “Ovid and Callimachus: Rewriting the Master”, in P. E. Knox, Companion to Ovid, Malden (MA) 2009, 236–51. 100.  Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “El amor, soporte de la metamorfosis en la poética ovidiana”, in T. Arcos Pereira, J. Fernández López, F. Moya del Baño (eds.), Pectora mulcet. Estudios de retórica y oratoria latinas, Calahorra 2009, I, 261–75 (Quintiliano de retórica y comunicación 10). 101.  J. L. Lightfoot, “Ovid and Hellenistic Poetry”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), Companion to Ovid, Malden (MA) 2009, 219–35. 102.  D. P. Nelis, “Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.416–51: noua monstra and the foedera naturae”, in P. Hardie (ed.), Paradox and the marvellous in Augustan literature and culture, Oxford-New York 2009, 248–67 (= “Ovidio, Metamorfosi 1,416–451: nova monstra e foedera naturae”, in F. Citti, L. Pasetti, D. Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza e letteratura, Firenze 2014, 102–22 (Biblioteca di Muncius. Studi e testi 73)). 103.  K. Waldner, “Zwischen Kreta und Rom: Ovids Bearbeitung eines aitiologischen Mythos aus Nikanders Heteroioumena (Ant. Lib. 17) in den Metamorphosen (9,666–797)”, in A. Bendlin, J. Rüpke, D. Püschel (eds.), Römische Religion im historischen Wandel. Diskursentwicklung von Plautus bis Ovid, Stuttgart 2009, 171–86. 104.  K. Balsley, “Between two lives: Tiresias and the law in Ovid’s  Metamor­ phoses”, Dictynna 7, 2010, 13–31. 105.  A. Egea Carrasco, “Realismo y parodia en el Moretum pseudovirgiliano”, in J. F. González Castro, J. de la Villa Polo (eds.), XII Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos, Madrid 2010, II, 865–72. 106.  S. Ferrucci, Zur Rezeption des Europamythos in Italien: von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, Bonn 2010 (Abhandlungen zur Sprache und Literatur 179). 107.  F. Klein, “Une réponse ovidienne à Asclépiade?: hypothèse d’une allusion à l’épigramme sur la Lydé d’Antimaque (AP IX, 63) dans le certamen de Pallas et Arachné (Met. VI)”, Dictynna 7, 2010, sine pag. 108.  R. W. Cowan, “Passing over Cephisos’ grandson: literal praeteritio and the rhetoric of obscurity in Ovid Met. 7.350–93”, Ramus 40, 2011, 146–67. 109.  G. O. Hutchinson, “Telling Tales: Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Callimachus”, in D.  Obbink, R.  Rutherford (eds.), Culture in Pieces. Essays on Ancient Texts in Honour of Peter Parsons, Oxford 2011, 239–61. 110.  S. Toso, “Non vanno d’accordo… La maestá e l’amore. Lo scottante caso di Giove ed Europa”, Eidola 8, 2011, 97–118. 111.  B. Acosta-Hughes, S. A. Stephens, Callimachus in Context. From Plato to the Augustan Poets, Cambridge-New York (etc.) 2012. Reviews: S. J. Heyworth, BMCR 2013.02.43; J. L. Lightfoot, JHS 133, 2013, 147–57; E. Sistakou, CR 64, 2014, 83–5; I. Petrović, AJPh 136, 2015, 365–8. 112.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovid and the Novel”, in M. P. Futre Pinheiro, S. J. Harrison (eds.), Fictional Traces. Receptions of the Ancient Novel, Groningen 2012, I, 3–19 (Ancient Narrative Supplementum 14.1).

Hellenistic Authors

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113.  E. Calderón Dorda, “El P.Oxy. 4711 y las Metamorfosis”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 69–88. 114.  M. G. Hopman, Scylla: Myth, Metaphor, Paradox, Cambridge-New York 2012. Reviews: C. Delattre, REG 126, 2013, 668–71; C. Francese, BMCR 2013.08.53; I. Jouteur, REA 115, 2013, 717–19; D. W. Berman, CR 64, 2014, 16–18; C. A. Clark, Mnemosyne 67, 2014, 860–4; S. Murnaghan, CPh 111, 2016, 103–5. 115.  B. Kayachev, “The so-called Orphic gold tablets in ancient poetry and p­ oetics”, ZPE 180, 2012, 17–37. 116.  F. Klein, “Tradition épique et modèles hellénistiques dans le livre XIV des Métamorphoses: Ovide, le prologue des Aitia et ses (ré-)interprétations romaines”, REL 90, 2012, 203–20. 117.  P. Kuhlmann, “The motif of the rape of Europa: intertextuality and absurdity of the myth in epyllion and epic insets”, in M. Baumbach, S. Bär (eds.), Brill’s Companion to Greek and Latin Epyllion and Its Reception. Brill’s Companions in Classical Studies, Leiden-Boston 2012, 473–90. 118. M. Labate, “Polifemo in Ovidio: il difficile cammino della civiltà”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 229–45. 119.  S. McCarter, “The Forging of  a God: Venus, the Shield of Aeneas, and Callimachus’s Hymn to Artemis”, TAPhA 142, 2012, 355–81. 120.  A. Romeo, Orfeo in Ovidio. La creazione di un nuovo epos, Soveria Mannelli 2012 (Studi di filologia antica e moderna 25). Reviews: S. Redaelli, AFB 3, 2013, 111–14; R. A. Smith, BMCR 2013.10.25; A. Prenner, BStudLat 44, 2014, 732–3; D. Puliga, Rhetorica 34, 2016, 219–20. 121.  C. M. Sampson, “Callimachean tradition and the Muse’s hymn to Ceres (Ov. Met. 5.341–661)”, TAPhA 142, 2012, 83–103. 122.  L. Aresi, “Vicende (e intrecci) del mito in terra d’Italia: Scilla, Glauco e Circe nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, Prometheus 39, 2013, 137–64. 123.  E. Magnelli, “Capri e porci: Priap. 65 e i suoi modelli ellenistico-romani”, Dictynna 11, 2014, sine pag.  124.  E. Magnelli, “Metamorfosi in poesia  e poesia di metamorfosi in età ellenisitca”, in F. Citti, L. Pasetti, D. Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza e letteratura, Firenze 2014, 41–62 (Biblioteca di Muncius. Studi e testi 73). 125.  W. Scholl, Der Daphnis-Mythos und seine Entwicklung. Von den Anfängen bis zu Vergils vierter Ekloge, Hildesheim-Zürich-New York 2014 (Spudasmata 157). Reviews: U.  Reinhardt, AAHG 67, 2014, 112–15; A.  Encuentra, CFC(L) 35, 2015, 380–3; G. Scafoglio, BMCR 2015.09.30; W. Schubert, MH 72, 2015, 233–4; H. Bannert, WS 129, 2016, 347–8; F. Overduin, Mnemosyne 70, 2017, 1073–6.

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The relation between Hellenistic poetry and met. has aroused the interest of many scholars and generated a large number of studies. We cannot talk about the prologue of met. without mentioning Callimachus. Heinz Hofmann (15) explains the combination of carmen perpetuum and carmen deductum as a reference not only to Callimachus, but also to the Annales of Ennius (223–6). Then he comments on three programmatic passages: the prologue of Orpheus’ song (met. 10.148–54), the certamen between the Muses and the Pierides (met. 5), and the contest between Minerva and Arachne (met. 6). All of these should be read in light of met. 1.1–4, of Callimachean and neoteric literature. Farouk Grewing (39) offers an analysis of Ovid’s poetic programme based on the commentary of met. 1.1–4. He connects carmen pepetuum with ἓν ἄεισμα διηνεκές (Aet. fr. 1.3 Pf.) and, due to deducite, recalls the commentary of Servius on Verg. ecl. 6.5. There, the verb deducere is related to the work of weaving, and is later applied to the creation of tenuis poetry. In this way, Grewing positions Ovid in the same poetic tradition as Callimachus and Virgil. The scholar interprets the paradoxical relationship between carmen perpetuum and carmen deducere as a word play with which the poet tried to conceal his affinity for Alexandrine poetry. Stephen Heyworth (42, 72–6) also writes about the relation between met. 1.1–4 and Call. Aet. fr. 1.3. He does not consider perpetuum carmen simply as an echo of Callimachean ἓν ἄεισμα διηνεκές, but also as a ‘permanent poem’ (see met. 15.871–2) (72), and asserts that the paradox present in perpetuum carmen and deducere carmen already existed in the Alexandrine model (75). Heyworth links unus (met. 1.6) with another key element of the prologue of Aet.: ἕν, and understands that unity is the characteristic of Chaos, whose description (vv. 7–9) “has the qualities of a badly written book” (76). Alan Cameron (48) in the chapter “One continuous poem” (339–61) takes a similar stance to Grewing: carmen perpetuum is the translation of ἓν ἄεισμα διηνεκές, an expression with which Callimachus criticises poetry that has temporal continuity and lacks structure or climax. Cameron is following in the wake of those who understood deducite as ‘polish’, thereby alluding to the Virgilian version of Callimachean μοῦσα λεπταλέη. The study which Benjamin Acosta-Hughes (99) published alone, and the chapter “Ovid and Callimachus” which he wrote jointly with Stephens (111, 257–69), are very similar. They return to the topic of the relation between the prologues of Aet. and met., specifically between εἵνεκεν οὐχ ἓν ἄεισμα διηνεκὲς … ἐν πολλαῖς ἤνυσα χιλιάσιν and perpetuum carmen, and about the concept of the poem as deductum: created in the fine tradition of Callimachus. Then they show certain characteristics present in met. which are peculiar to Hellenistic compositions; relate some passages to the supposed Alexandrine model; and point out parallels between the end of Aet. and of met. Enrico Magnelli (124) reflects on the use of metamorphosis in Hellenistic poetry and its influence on Ovid. He especially affirms the importance of Nicander as a model (62). Peter Knox (16) presents met. as “a venture into the epic genre and an uneasy compromise with Callimachean principles” (1), and as a work drawn on the entire canon of Roman poetry composed in the Alexandrine tradition (2). To illustrate these

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affirmations, he comments on the prologue of met. (9–10), cosmogony (met. 1.5–451; pp. 10–12) and certain topoi inspired by the Alexandrines (e.g., by Euphorion and Callimachus, pp. 15–16, 21). In two works by Callimachus, Aet. and Del., he also finds the models for the references to Augustus in met. 1 and 15 (18). Chapter 3 (27–43) analyses the style and language of met. and emphasises the work’s eclecticism: it contains epic, elegiac, Hellenistic (34, 37–8) and neoteric elements. The affiliations with Alexandrine poets are also emphasised in chapter 4 (48–64) through the analysis of Orpheus, who “is carefully presented as a characteristically learned Alexandrian poet” (50), and of his song, in which reminiscences of Aratus, Callimachus (50) and Apollonius (57) can be seen. In the final chapter (65–83) Knox analyses passages of met. 15, where the influence of Callimachus and Ennius can be detected, and which prepare the reader for the Callimachean-Roman conclusion (74). Finally, he considers firstly Aet.’s influence on the structure of met. (75–6), and then on the catasterismi (77–8). Raphael Lyne’s article (13) is based around the premise that Ovid adopts the aesthetic principles of Callimachus, which are close to l’art pour l’art. He focuses on showing the similarities between Aet. and met. through the latter’s treatment of individual episodes, its overall structure and how the Latin poet uses ‘effects’. The author also embraces the aesthetic of brevity promoted by Callimachus, which he combines with the rhetorical precept of brevitas. Florence Klein (84) analyses this tendency exhaustively in the fable of Atalanta (met. 10), wherein the running race metaphorically represents the art of poetry based on the lightness of an agile and discontinuous style: pauses and digressions contribute to the effect of brevity. At the same time, Klein examines the differences between the Ovidian version of the myth and those of his predecessors (Hyg. fab. 185, Apollod. Theoc. id. 3). Finally this scholar (116) analyses the influence of the Callimachean style on met. 14. In the prologue of Aet., Callimachus defends a style based on digressions, on discontinuous and fragmentary writing (οὐκ ἓν ἄεισμα διηνεκές). The Roman poets misinterpreted his words, and in the recusationes, showed that the epic theme is incompatible with the poetic model which the Cyrenian defends. Ovid corrects the errors of his predecessors, and in met. 14 he offers an epic poem which adapts itself to guidelines shown in Aet. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (17) examines the digressions in the Ovidian “Aeneid” (met. 13.623–14.580), which allow the poet to introduce themes and characters typical of Hellenistic poetry. The characters which appear in the digressions are endowed with a dual identity: Hellenistic in the digressions, and Homeric in the main story. Heather Van Tress (81) analyses the allusive techniques of Callimachus and Ovid, using Conte’s terminology (The Rhetoric of Imitation: Genre and Poetic Memory in Virgil and Other Latin Poets, Cornell 1986), which distinguishes between integrative and reflective allusion. He starts by examining the programmatic language of the met.’s prologue, relating it to the prologue of Aet. Then he compares Ovidian versions of various myths – Tiresias and Narcissus (met. 3), Asterie, Niobe and Latona (met. 6), and Erysichthon (met. 8) – with their possible sources, and establishes integrative and reflective allusions on lexical and thematic levels. The purpose of these allusions, sometimes signposted, is to strengthen the story’s pathos. Like Homer and Callimachus,

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Ovid gives weight to the innovations by having them voiced by credible characters and, like Callimachus, plays with the limits of traditional genres. The work by Garth Tissol (59) focuses on the narrative and stylistic characteristics of met., which hark back especially to Callimachus. However, Tissol does not miss the chance to refer back to other Hellenistic models, e.g., Apollonius (45, 140–1), Nicander (42, 168), and Boios (168). Other constant themes in the book are the allusiveness and the relation between reader and text (105–24). Also of special interest for our section are the first and third parts of chapter 3 (131–43, 153–66). In the first, through the comparison of Call. Dian. with various passages in the Homeric hymns, Tissol shows that Callimachus adapts elements of hymnal and epic style (parodying them on certain occasions) to serve new and unexpected purposes, and he suggests that Call. Dian. “offered Ovid narrative characteristics to develop and adapt” (143). In the third and final part of chapter 3, he emphasises the stylistic affinity of met. with Hec. In this epyllion Callimachus wrenched and distorted an old genre, and pointed the way for Ovid’s exploitation of the Latin epic tradition. Tissol comments on various passages of met. which allude to, or rework, others of Hec. In chapter 4 (167–214) he reviews some aetiological tales from fast. and met., and associates Ovid’s aetiological concerns with these traditions of Homer, Callimachus and Virgil. The fact that the Ovidian epic did not adapt itself to the established canons for this genre was widely criticised in Antiquity. Llewelyn Morgan (76) recalls that Quintilian (10.1.89) criticised met. for its frivolity, and Seneca (nat. 3.27–13–15), for violating literary decorum. The author states that in the Ovidian epic poem “acts of obedience and disobedience within the poem reflect obedience or disobedience to the literary tradition” (82) and contradict some precedents (82–5). The author looks at the behaviour of Eros and Cupid in A. R. 3, in the Aen. and in met, and asserts that the love gods offer varying degrees of obedience to authority, and that such conduct serves “as guides to the epics in which they operate” (84). Alison Keith (71) follows up R. Heinze’s work (Ovids elegische Erzählung, Leipzig 1919), by focusing on the Quellenforschung in met. 1–5, books which are characterised by stylistic and thematic polyphony. She detects the debt to the epic (Hom., Enn., Verg.), didactic epic (Hes., Nic., Arat., Lucr.), hymnic tradition (Hom., Call.), ancient novel, elegy (Call., Parth., Catull.), and tragedy (A., E., Pac.). Forbes Irving (27) dedicates the first chapter of his book to the myths’ sources. The section “The later poets” (19–29) looks at Hellenistic authors and their aetiological tales: Ovid adopted a large part of the Alexandrine myths (albeit not always directly). Then Irving has a section on “Nicander” (24–32), where he establishes comparisons between some stories by this Hellenistic author (transmitted by Ant. Lib.) and met. He asserts that “Ovid uses all except three of Nicander’s stories, and in nearly every case there are important differences” (29). He comments on these differences on pp. 29–31. See also pp. 36–7. Annamaria Taliercio (14) evaluates the function, style and compositional technique of aition in Virgil, Propertius and Ovid. From this analysis, she deduces that Ovid followed in the footsteps of Callimachus and Propertius. K. Sara Myers (45), in her introduction, looks again at the relation between carmen perpetuum and ἓν

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ἄεισμα διηνεκές, and deducite … carmen and Μοῦσαν λεπταλέην (Aet. 1 fr. 1.24). She reconciles the two traditions, represented by the two Latin expressions, through cosmogony. However, the central themes of the introduction are aetiology, Ovid’s preoccupation with its narratological function and its connection to the “self-conscious preoccupation [for] narrative authority”, bringing his work closer to the Alexandrines. In chapter 2 she concentrates on the characteristics that the Latin poem shares with Callimachean ideals: terminology and mechanisms used to introduce an aition, use of framed stories, and of internal narrators. Chapter 3 deals with met. 14–15, where the aetiology allows us to relate Rome past and present, and to maintain the association between this Latin epic poem and the Hellenistic tradition. Johanna Loehr’s work (55) is a revision of her Ph.D. thesis (Eberhard-Karls-Universität Tübingen 1995), in which she investigates the poetic function of the aetiology in met. and fast. After reflecting on the fields in which aetiology is used (3–38), she reviews Ovid’s Alexandrine (Call. Aet., Nic. heter., Boios Ornithogonia; 39–67) and Roman (68–87) predecessors. In the section specifically dedicated to met. (127–57), she concludes that, although the influence of Callimachus’ traditional aetiology is perceptible, the influence of Nicander is more obvious, due to the humanisation of nature and the cosmos. Katharina Waldner (94) reflects on how Ovid adapts the tales of religious aetiology, thus connecting met. with the Aetia of Callimachus and with paradoxography. Moreover, the “Natur-Aitien” are a test of the influence of Nic. heter. and of Boios Ornith. Damien Nelis (102) connects met. with the Hellenistic paradoxography based on the mirabilia of Pythagoras’ speech (248). At the same time, he understands this Latin epic poem as being very close to Arg. in its spirit and technique (252). Jane Lightfoot (101) analyses the debts of the Alexandrines to earlier literature, and of Ovid to the Hellenistic poets. She comments on the possible relation of Ovid to Boios Ornith., to Nic. heter., to elegiac fragments of POxy 4711 attributed to Parthenius, and to Aet. Callimachus’s work would have inspired Ovid to give a formal and thematic connection to the tales, and also for the aetiological treatment. Gianpiero Rosati (87) comments on the relationship between the simultaneous actions of spinning / weaving and narrating in the episode of the Minyeides (met. 4), and in the competition between Arachne and Minerva (met. 6), a fable which shows the problematic relationship between artist and power (348–9). Occasionally he points out the links between the weaving-narrating metaphor and the Callimachean asthetic (esp. 341, 346, 349). Gregory Hutchinson (109) establishes links between Callimachus and Ovid in two areas: narratology and intertextuality. His work starts from a basic premise: the distinction between “the world of mythological events and the world of authorial activity”. Both worlds interact in the embedded stories of the Callimachean and Ovidian works (240). Hutchinson exemplifies his theory by analysing various stories from met. From the Coronis story, he points out the allusions to Call. Hec. (243), and from the Minyeides, Ovid’s defence of the Callimachean aesthetic by avoiding telling vulgaris fabula (met. 4.53). In this way they introduce the story of Pyramus and Thisbe. Ida Baldassarre (3) says about Ovid’s version of this myth, stranger than the one in which Pyramus and Thisbe are a river and a fountain: “si può ipotizzare che la

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Cilicia non greca abbia posseduto la sua versione mitologica, forse quella originale, e che questa abbia subito, in ambiente ellenico, una assimilazione alle storie amorose dei fiumi greci … alle quali strettamente si apparenta” (338). Antonio Stramaglia (68) shows the points at which this same story coincides with, and separates from, the papyrus text of PMich inv. 3793, dated by M. Messeri (at the request of Stramaglia) to the end of the Ptolemaic period. Ovid, and very possibly this testimony, are the only ones which document the metamorphosis of fruit. The papyrus text cannot be considered as Ovid’s direct source, but it allows us to detect some of the innovations which he introduced. Andreas Michalopoulos (75) offers various examples of etymological games: met. 4.172, 8.743, 13.789, 2.364–5 and 1.447. For its creation, Ovid was inspired by passages in Callimachus’ Hymns and the works of Apollonius and Theocritus. Gregory Hutchinson (24) in the chapter “Roman Poetry” (277–354, esp. 329–54) offers a general vision of Hellenistic poetry’s influence on met. in terms of its structure, narrative, and fiction; the taste for mixing the serious and the comic, the heroic and antiheroic; the presence of humour and poverty; the use of narrative levels; and the function of metamorphosis. He examines these elements in the stories of Leucothoe, Clytie and the Sun, Salmacis and Hermaphroditus (met. 4), in the speech of Pythagoras (met. 15), in the stories of Meleager and the Calydonian boar, Philemon and Baucis, and Erysichthon and Mestra (met. 8). André Hurst (50) considers that the structure of met. could recall that of Arg., but that it is more Callimachean, as are the tone and poetic language. Ovid inherited from Apollonius some characters and elements which he introduced into totally different situations. Hurst also points out the presence of other Hellenistic characteristics in met., such as the preference for family scenes, and for erudition. Yasmin Syed (80) analyses the influence of the hymnic genre in various passages of met. and highlights the importance of Call. Del. and Jov. as a literary precedent for mixing hymn and eulogy in met. (111). She also alludes to the structural similarities between Aet. and met. (110–11). Ovid’s treatment of Caesar and Augustus in book 15 recalls passages about Augustus, Augustan Rome, and the murder of Julius Caesar in Metamorphoses 1, and in this way, books 1 and 15 lend the entire Ovidian poem a ring composition and an encomiastic frame, recalling Aet., framed by two eulogistic passages. Robert Wilhelm (38) reviews the versions of the Golden Age myth, from Hesiod to Ovid (met. 1). In his commentary on met. he points out certain debts to Aratus: the moral tone of the description of the Golden Age (69), and the imagery of degeneration described in the Iron Age (70). Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (62, 35–8) comments on the same myth (i. e. the Golden Age) and the allusion thereto within Pythagoras’s speech (met. 15.96–8, 141–2) in relation to Aratus and Verg. ecl. Nicoll (1) examines the links between the opening of met. and its models. He focuses on the passage of Cupid and Apollo, “an ingenious variation of … the recusatio based on the Callimachean theophany of the Aitia prologue” (174). He also shows that in the Apollo and Daphne story, references can be seen to the jargon used by the followers of Callimachus to refer to the epic (182).

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Frederick Williams (8) points out the general Hellenistic inspiration of the episodes of Python, and Apollo and Daphne (met. 1), and comments on the use of various models to elaborate the latter story. For 1.481–8 Ovid would have been inspired by Call. Dian. 4.8; for 1.517–21, by Call. Ap. 2.42–6 (250–1); and for 1.557–65, by Call. Iamb. 4 fr. 194.24–36 (254–5). Williams also analyses the myth in light of Parthenius and Phylarchus (vid. infra). Jeffrey Wills (28) considers Callimachus’ Hymn to Delos as an important literary background for the Apollo-Daphne episode (143–52). Due to the interconnections between stories of Daphne, Io (met. 1) and Callisto (met. 2), Wills considers this hymn relevant for all three episodes (152–4). Philip Hardie (78, §§ 13–15, 17) also discerns allusions to two hymns of Callimachus, Dian. and Ap., in the Daphne episode, which is in turn the intratextual model for the story of Syrinx (met. 1). Virginie Subias-Konofal (98, 107–8) comments on the dependent relation between the Apollo and Daphne story, and Call. Del. 109–11 and Dian. 3–7. Based on the closeness between met. and Theoc. id. 3, she identifies the Ovidian passage as  a komos. Álvarez Morán and Iglesias Montiel (100) point out the linguistic parallel between Call. Del. 118–9 and met. 1.504–5 (264 n. 5). Yannick Durbec (91) sees in met. 1.512–22 a possible allusion to Philet. fr. 10 Powell (= 12 Sbardella). Roswitha Simons (96) appreciates parallels between Tib. 2.1.67–72 and met. 1.454–65, and deduces that the two poets were familiar with the same Hellenistic source. The article by Adrian Hollis (53) shows the influence of Hellenistic poetry on the transition between the death of Python at Apollo’s hands, and the love story between the god and Daphne (met. 1.446–52). These verses address  a theme which was a constant preoccupation of Hellenistic scholar-poets: the foundation of Games. They contain the ‘not yet’ motif used by these same poets to indicate the chronological relationship of different myths. The passage is connected to Pancrat. fr. 3.4 Heitsch and to Nic. Alex. 198–200. Sergio Casali (32) analyses the elegiac character of Apollo in love (met. 1.504–24) and of Hyacinthus (met. 10.162–89). Both cases feature the motif of how useless medicine is in amorous matters (met. 1.521–4, 10.189). Casali carries out a review of the history of this topos, which goes back to the Hellenistic poets (Euph., Bion fr. 1 Gow, Theoc. 11), and which would have been incorporated into Latin elegy through Gallus (98–100). Annie Houriez (33) analyses the myth of Io in Aeschylus, Moschus and Ovid (met. 1). The Latin poet’s version has characteristics typical of Alexandrine aesthetics and, like the Moschus story, results from the “nouvel épos”. The model for the story of Apollo and the crow (met. 2) is the crow’s story in Call. Hec., but Carole Newlands (31) highlights the different objectives of each poet: “Whereas Callimachus tries to adapt the hexameter metre to more domestic topics and ‘unepic’ style, Ovid seeks to raise such topics to the level of the hexameter metre and a weightier style” (253). Victor Castellani (2) comments on two myths, Battus and Mercurius (met. 2), and on the adultery of Venus and Mars (met. 4). In both exists a “divine scandal” that undermines any attempt to take their principal actors seriously (esp. 50). During his

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analysis Castellani compares the Ovidian versions with their supposed sources. The author believes that the source used for the Battus tale was very probably Hellenistic (perhaps Nicander) and that it is possible that Ovid had no knowledge of the h. Merc., or not directly (esp. 38–9). In the story of the adultery of war god and love goddess, the direct source is Hom. Od. 8.267–366, although the Sulmonan poet introduced changes (esp. 44–8). The comparison between Moschus’ epyllion Europa and the Ovidian version of the same myth has been the theme of many works. Luciano Landolfi (44) compares the two versions (content and expressions) based on the premise that Ovid did not imitate Moschus. In the description of Europea riding the bull (met. 2.873–5), where the chaste gesture present in Mosch. 126–8 is omitted, he appreciates the influence of Hellenistic-Roman iconography. Luca Graverini (63), however, establishes a dependence between this description and Mosch. 129–30. Stefania Ferrucci (106) analyses the evidence of Europa’s myth in literature and visual arts from Moschus to the 21st c. Reading the sections contained between 4.1 and 4.2.1 (16–30) allows us to recognise the main similarities between Moschus’ and Ovid’s versions. The principle difference is that in met. 2, Ovid removes the dream present in the Alexandrine epyllion and leaves an open ending, because his interest is focused on the metamorphosis and the seduction scene. However, he does not deprive the reader of Europa riding the waves on the back of the bull, told in met. 6.103–7. Ferrucci believes that, for the representation of this scene, Ovid would have been inspired by Moschus. Sabina Toso (110) also analyses the abduction of Europa in the light of figurative arts (4th c. bce to 4th c. ce) and their literary sources (Moschus, Hor. carm. 3.27.25–76). Toso’s com­ parison brings to light the differences between Moschus’ and Ovid’s stories (99–101). Peter Kuhlmann (117) studies the interrelations between three versions of the Europa myth: the homonymous epyllion of Moschus, met. 2.833–3.7, and Nonnus’ version. Ovid coincides with Moschus in his narrative mode and in his abrupt thematic transitions, but departs from the Hellenistic model when he focuses the story on Jupiter. Kuhlmann relates the passage wherein the abduction of Europa appears in the form of ecphrasis (met. 6) with the ecphrasis of the basket that tells the story of Io in the Hellenistic epyllion: both help the reader to interpret the text (482–5). In conclusion, the scholar asserts that this myth “is always presented contrary to the traditional narrative scheme about  a girl raped” (489) and that in the three texts “typical narratological similarities can be found” (490). The article by Kathryn Balsley (104) examines the legal terminology used in the Tiresias episode (met. 3.316–38) which appears to come from Lav. Pall., where Callimachus offers a careful observation of an over-arching justice system (18–20): “In the story of Tiresias, Ovid … exploits the pseudo-legal situation, the germ of which we can see in the Callimachean version” (20). Also looking at Call. Lav. Pall., Boris Kayachev (115) suggests that Virgil, Pro­ pertius and Ovid recognised in the so-called ‘gold tablets’ a subtext of Callimachus’ hymn. Therefore the Actaeon episode (met. 3), which owes a debt to the hymn, possibly alludes to the texts of the gold tablets. Clayton Zimmerman, in the first chapter of his work (47, 1–22, “Tracing the

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Narcissus Myth”), reviews the literary and iconographic versions of the Narcissus myth in Antiquity. Among them is the story from met. 3 which compares with Conon’s version, and with Theoc. 23 (6–8). The Ovidian tale harks back to a text about Narcissus by Corinna of Tanagra (19–21). Also of interest is the third chapter, “Rereading the Song of Thyrsis” (39–73), where Zimmerman uses the Narcissus myth, especially the version from met., to illuminate various questions about the Daphnis story in Theoc. 1. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (49) emphasises the Hellenistic conception of the Narcissus (met. 3) and Hermaphroditus tales (met. 4). In these, Ovid follows the tradition of Gallus, who was emulating poets such as Philetas, Euphorion and Callimachus; but between Gallus and the Ovidian texts is Prop. 1.20. These subtle variations and reminiscences between the two works are typical of Roman Alexandrinism. The Echo and Narcissus episode was also studied by Gianpiero Rosati (58), who asserts that its hypotext is Callimachus’ tale of Acontius and Cydippe. His hypothesis is based especially on met. 3.440–5, where Narcissus shows his awareness of belonging to an ancient literary typology (longo meministis in aevo) that is well represented (multis latebra opportuna fuistis). Preston Edwards (69), on the other hand, is convinced that for the Echo and Narcissus tale, Ovid was inspired by epigr. 28 of Callimachus (= AP 2.43); the two texts create a connection between literary exclusivity and erotic exclusivity. For Edwards, the real theme of the epigram is the poet, while the Narcissus and Echo episode references Ovid’s poetic programme. The scholar justifies his position analysing the balance between the characters’ roles in both texts. Jerzy Danielewicz (25) emphasises the use of an original form of utterance, oscillating between direct and reported speech, in the hymn to Bacchus (met. 4). This formal refinement is down to the attraction that Ovid felt for the sophisticated techniques of Alexandrine poetry. The passage is compared with Call. Lav. Pall. 137–42, and with the hymn to Apollo in A. R. 2.705–13. In the last section of one of his works, Antonio La Penna (11, 242–3) recalls that there were two versions of the Hermaphroditus myth: the one followed by Ovid (met. 4), in which “Ermafrodito diventava bisessuato immergendosi nella fonte Salmacide”, would already have been known in Halicarnassus during the Hellenistic period, and afterwards would have passed to erudite poetry and literature (242). Walter Scholl (125) has an extensive volume about the Daphnis myth, of which he makes out seven versions. The first, version I, is divided into I A (the main one) and I B (the alternative one) (109). The version which dominates I B, in which Daphnis is turned to stone, is represented by Ov. met. 4.276–8 and Serv. ad ecl. 8.68 (97), and its origin can be found in the Hellenistic era (413, 428). In chapter 1 of his work, Stephen Hinds (23, 3–24) focuses on the commentary about the origin of the Hippocrene fountain (met. 5.256–64), and asserts that ll. 262–4 are inspired by Arat. 216–24 (6–16). Then he reflects on the programmatic connotations of deduxit (met. 5.263) and its links with Callimachean poetry (16–21). In chapter 3 he affirms that the h. Hom. Cer. cannot be the “only major source” for the two Ovidian versions of the abduction of Persephone, and reviews the previous works in which different theories were presented about a Hellenistic intermediary: Callimachus, Nicander or both (52–4). Hinds attests the influence of Nic. heter. 4, but

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also a direct and unmediated influence of h. Hom. Cer. (54–6). In addition, it is worth examining pp. 14–15, where he recalls the possible dependence on Nic. heter. 4 (Ant. Lib. 9.2) for the song contest. On the other hand, Peter Knox (40) affirms that Ovid could have used Philetas’ Demeter as a source for the Persephone tale. The influence of Call. Cer. on met. 5.341–661 has been analysed by David Konstan (54), who emphasises that the two hymns share the tripartite structure, but that the content of one’s central episode is different from the other’s. Both Callimachus and Ovid react against h. Hom. Cer. The influence of the Callimachean version is shown in Ceres’ invocation as patron of agriculture and laws (Cer. 18–20, met. 5.341–3), and in the appearance of the Triptolemus story in both versions (Cer. 21, met. 5.642–61). However, the Ovidian goddess is much more disproportionate in her reactions than that of the Hellenistic poet. C. Michael Sampson (121) reflects on possible similarities between the hymn to Demeter in met. 5 and the two Callimachean texts, Cer. and Aet. Moreover, he affirms that, by locating the abduction at the lake near Henna (met. 5.385–96), Ovid is placing himself in the tradition of Timaeus, to which Callimachus in turns owes a debt. He also suspects that the Cyrenean poet might be the source of the Palici tale. Simone Viarre (52) depicts Cupid while recalling his genealogy, as well as his physical and psychological characteristics in different literary genres and authors. In the section dedicated to the Ovidian epic poem (205–8), Viarre considers the Cupid of the abduction of Proserpina (met. 5.362–84) as “une reprise parodique” of the character of A. R. 3.90–166 and of Aen. 1.656–722. The influence of Apollonius can also be discerned in the pseudo-realistic description of Cupid’s involvement in met. 1.466–74. Hans Bernsdorff (57) analyses the function of the borders of ivy, and of olive branches made, respectively, by Arachne and Pallas during their certamen (met. 6). At the end of the article (354–6) he links the passage to two Hellenistic texts: one is the ecphrasis of Theoc. 1.29–54, which may have inspired Ovid (in both cases, the fabric’s border accentuates the “poetologischen Charakter” of the ecphrasis). The other text mentioned is the ecphrasis of A. R. 1.642–6: this passage contains a reference to artistic activity – the ivy mentioned in met. has the same connotations. Florence Klein (107) interprets the contest of Pallas and Arachne (met. 6) as  a response to the epigram AP 9.63 of Asclepiades, wherein the Greek poet implicitly criticises the Cydippe of Callimachus, comparing the poem with Antimachus’ Lyde. Asclepiades and Callimachus belong to opposing poetic aesthetics, like Pallas and Arachne. The goddess represents the augusta gravitas which is the equivalent of Asclepiades’ σεμνότης. Arachne, on the other hand, is of humble origin, and stands out for the worth of her ars, while her characters lack gravitas and maiestas. She is a Callimachean figure linked to λεπτότης. Ovid would also have used Alex. of Lycophron as a source. Fabio Stok (97), based on Lyc. Alex. 330–4, identifies Maera as Hecuba in met. 7.362, thereby justifying the repetition of 7.362 in met. 13.406. Michelle Wilhelm (37) explores the possible origins of the Medea myth, and reviews separately the versions of Euripides (46–8), Apollonius (48–52) and Ovid

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(52–6). In the Hellenistic work, “Medea is alternately depicted as an innocent, timid virgin and  a complex, scheming witch” (48–9). The character in met., meanwhile, because of the dehumanizing effects of love, starts off as a naïve young princess, and changes into a witch whose actions are inexplicable and inhuman. Giancarlo Reggi (51) comments on the story of Jason and Medea (met. 7) as regards its sources. The tale is the recreation of the Argonautica of Apollonius, but also shows the influence of two Euripidean characters: Medea and Phaedra. In terms of how the heroine’s state of mind is represented, the Latin poet would have been inspired by Stoic philosophy (112–35). The study he makes into the Ovidian tale’s literary and cultural content leads Reggi to assert that the passage is suitable for adolescent students. Finally, he demonstrates how they should be shown this episode in order to understand the relation between Ovid and his literary models, and between Ovid and philosophy (137–40). Anja Bettenworth (73) focuses on the commentary of the scene in which Jason and Medea meet in the temple of Hecate (met. 8). She shows that Ovid did not reproduce completely the model of A. R. 3, and justifies some differences, especially those which affect the symptoms of love, influenced by Sappho (fr. 31 Voigt). Robert Cowan (108) reflects on some of the metapoetic connotations of the physical and narrative praeteritio employed by Medea on her route from Thessaly to Corinth, on its rhetoric of obscurity, and on the self-conscious opacity of the individual myths. He focusses on met. 7.388–9, where one of the most obscure myths and one of the most opaque figures, Cephisos’ grandson, appears, in order to analyse how Ovid aligns himself with Hellenistic poetry. Cowan, however, does not exclude the possibility that this myth is an invention by Ovid and that “the poet is both exploiting and ironising his own poetics of obscurity” (155). Marianne Hopman (114) in the chapter “Organizing the tradition” (195–215) uses the example of Scylla to assess the role of Hellenistic poets and mythographers in shaping the Roman approach to the ancient tales. According to Hopman, is it entirely possible that the two myths of Scylla (met. 8.6–154, 13.728–14.74) have a Hellenistic origin, because the two protagonists undergo permanent transformations. Thomas Gärtner (85) maintains that Ovid used the “Tattoo Elegy”, a Hellenistic text which is the combination of two papyri (P.Brux.inv.E.8934 + P.Sorb.inv.2254), to elaborate the tale of the Calydonian boar (met. 8). From this elegy, our poet would have taken the non-Homeric details, the pathos-filled language, the narrative technique, and the structure divided into three sections. Gärtner establishes linguistic parallels between the texts, and highlights the innovations in the Latin epic poem. Ovid would have expanded some elements, which allowed him to emphasise the wild boar and elevate it to  a national catastrophe, making the passage more theatrical. Charles Segal (64) approaches the episode of the Calydonian boar from the perspectives of gender and genre. In the last pages of his article (esp. 331–4) he shows how Ovid shifts between Callimachean lightness and un-Callimachean heaviness. Godo Lieberg (6) detects elements that are characteristic of idyll in the tale of Philemon and Baucis (met. 8) which, together with the taste for detail, situate the story in the Hellenistic poetic tradition (100–1). To finish, Lieberg offers proof that various verses are inspired by Call. Hec. (104). Mary-Kay Gamel (12) also finds  a possible

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source for the Ovidian story of the elderly couple in this Hellenistic poem, as well as in Roman pastoral. She compares the Hellenistic tale with that in met., and points out especially all the differences between them (117–18, 120). Paola Radici Colace (9) indicates the similarities between this Ovidian tale and the Molorcus episode (Aet.), although she claims that these parallels do not confirm that Callimachus’ text is the direct source of the Philemon and Baucis episode. Alan Griffin (29) highlights the essential elements (theophany and flood) of the story with its two humble old protagonists, against the secondary elements (peasant food and the attempt to sacrifice the only goose) adopted from Call. Hec and Aet. fr. 54–59 Pf. Griffin maintains that the source of this met. tale could have been originated in Asia Minor, and was probably the heter. of Nicander, as proposed by A. S. Hollis (Ovid Metamorphoses Book VIII, Oxford 1970, 110–11). He bases his hypothesis on the moralistic tone; on the preoccupation with justifying a miracle’s authenticity; on the careful description of the fulicae (v. 625); and on the realistic description of met. 8.637–78. Christopher Jones (43) considers that in the tale of this couple, Ovid could be following a Hellenistic version, or referring back to a local story of Troizen (a theory that had already been defended by L. Robert, JS 3–4, 1961, 151). As a new argument for Nicander as a source, he adds the name “Baukis”, possibly Hellenistic and linked to Ionic-speaking regions. Patricia Rosenmeyer (41) focuses on the analysis of theoxenia present in two Callimachean tales – Molorcus (Aet.) and Hecale – and in the story of Philemon and Baucis. Based on this topos she points out the similarities between the three tales. Álvarez Morán and Iglesias Montiel (61) in the first part of their article also address the debt of this Ovidian tale to Hecale (123–5) and the passage of Molorcus (129). Adolfo Egea Carrasco (105) relates the Moretum with Call. Hec and with the Philemon and Baucis episode. In his commentary he draws parallels between the Alexandrine epyllion and the Ovidian tale, emphasising that the Latin text reduces the theoxenia scene down to the minimum, focusing instead on the description of the everyday atmosphere. The article by Theodore Papanghelis (56) has as its subject the phrase de tergore partem / exiguam (met. 8.649–50), which he interprets as “as a literary self-comment through which the poet takes an ironical distance from traditional epic modes and places his narrative in the modernist tradition of the Callimachean short epic” (281). We should also mention here two other works, by Alessandro Perutelli (20) and Michael von Albrecht (112, 10–14), in which the character of Oenothea in Petronius (135.7–15) is related to Callimachean Hecale, and to Philemon and Baucis in met. Much has been written about the influence of Call. Cer. on the Erysichthon episode (met. 8). Three works by Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini examine this topic. In the first (19), she explains many differences between the Alexandrine and Ovidian versions, based on allusions to Virgil; the impact of other Latin genres (comedy and satire), and of contemporary ideology, specifically moralistic diatribe, can also be noted. The influence of Callimachus, however, can be seen in Ovid’s allusive artistic technique (esp. 65–6). In a later work (22), this scholar specifies the points where the Erysichthon episode diverges from its Hellenistic source: landscape, characterisation of Erysichthon, and the end of the story. Ovid, unlike Callimachus, concentrates on the psychological consequences of the furor edendi of Erysichthon, and presents the

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story as a counterpoint to the pietas of Philemon and Baucis. Some years later, Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (26) revised and amplified the two works previously reviewed in the chapter “La «metamorfosi» di Erisittone” (37–102). Alan Griffin (18), who recognises the Callimachean hymn as a source, considers that Ovid was aware of a tradition in which Erysichthon was a giant. Callimachus seems to allude to this tradition in Cer. 34, when he calls the companions of the protagonist ἀνδρογίγαντας. Griffin reflects on the differences between the hymn and the met. tale, and asserts that Ovid exaggerated the characteristics and the deeds of his character to create  a contrast with the previous episode, of Philemon and Baucis. In Michael von Albrecht (21), point III “Ovids Erysichthon-Erzählung mit Vergleichstexten” (31–47) is interesting: the author compares the versions of the Erysichthon myth in Call. Cer. and in met. through the analysis of its structure; the narrative elements on which each author concentrates; the finality of the felling of the tree; the importance of secondary characters; and the function of nature and landscape. Joaquim Brasil Fontes (83) offers an intertextual study of h. Hom. Cer., Call. Cer. and the Ovidian episode of Erysichthon. In the met. passage, he values meta-irony, caricature, a process of desecration of poetic memory (204–5), and the increase of pathos (209). Jackie Murray (79) analyses the thematic and verbal dependencies of three stories in which the violation of the tree is featured: the tale of Paraibios and his father in A. R. 2, that of Erysichthon in Call. Cer., and met. 8. She has in mind eight factors: attacking the tree, cry for help, pleading, intervention, felling of the tree, pronouncement of the curse, report, and fulfilment of the curse (208–11). In this way, she analyses the metapoetic implications of Call. Cer. (212–16), of the Phineus episode in A. R. 2 (216–23), and of the episodes of Achelous and Erysichthon in met. 8, always alluding to their Hellenistic models (223–39). William Clarke (4) uses the tales which Achelous relates about his love for Perimele and his fight for Deianira (met. 8–9) to justify the presence of Achelous in Callimachus’ erotic epigram AP 12.51. More relevant are the observations of Marco Fucecchi (70) about the thematic and structural influences of Call. Hec. on the stories around Theseus (met. 8–9). Micaela Janan (30, 240) finds the source of the Ovidian version of the Byblis and Caunus myth (met. 9) in Nicander’s heter. (Ant. Lib. 30). Dimitrios Nikitas (7) claims that both the story of Leucippus in Nicander (Ant. Lib. 17, 1–6) and Parth. 5, and the work of Hermesianax, are direct sources of the Iphis tale (met. 9). After comparing the Ovidian story with its models, he concludes that Ovid adopted mythological elements and adapted them to his poetic needs. Stephen Wheeler (60) compares the myth of Iphis and Ianthe with that of Ant. Lib. 17, and goes along with the general opinion that the common source is a tale from Nic. heter. 2. He briefly quotes the Ovidian innovations (192), and then focuses on commenting on the names, and on their implications, all of which leads him to affirm that the essence of the two versions is the same: “the concern with the feminine sexuality of boys and the growth of the their virility” (200). Shilpa Raval (72) studies various tales of male-to-female cross-dressing and one of male-to-female tranvestism:

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the case of Iphis (met. 9). This passage is compared to its Hellenistic source, the story of Leucippus (Nic. met. frg. 45 Schneider = Ant. Lib. 17; pp. 159–67). Sandra Boehringer (82) also relates the story of Iphis and Ianthe to Nicander’s account of Leucippus – in both stories, sexual identity is the central theme. Ovid focuses on the femininity of Iphis (88), removing all references to clothes, so important to the Hellenistic version (89). Katharina Waldner (103) also comments on the myth of Iphis in light of Nicander (Ant. Lib. 17). From his source, Ovid retained certain elements, modified others (e.g. changed the goddess Leto for Isis) and introduced innovations (e.g. the love story which permitted a deeper examination of the psychological implications). The treatment which the myth receives in met. is closely linked to the cultural and religious context of the Augustan era. Carlo Santini (36) recalls Phanocles, and also a lost text, to explain the differences between the story of Orpheus in Verg. georg. and in Ov. met. 10–11. The Ἔρωτες ἢ Καλοί shares linguistic and content details with the met. version, and can explain the two types of weapons – those provided by nature itself, and farming tools – used by the Thracian women in Orpheus’ death. The reception of the work by Phanocles in the Orpheus tale is also the theme of Thomas Gärtner’s study (95). Ovid made the catalogic form less rigid, innovated the content, and abandoned the subjectivity which characterised Orpheus’s song in Phanocles. From his analysis, Gärtner detects an “anti-phanokleische” tendency in the Ovidian tale. Alessandra Romeo (120) alludes repeatedly to the imprints left by Alexandrine poetry on the Orpheus tale. The Alexandrianism can be appreciated in the fact that Ovid amplified a much-ignored aspect, Orpheus as the narrator of fabulae, and emphasised the literary and metapoetic value (52). In this way, the Hellenistic concept can be seen in the dispositio of the material, which abides by the same compositive model of carmen deductum (55–7), in both style and theme. Some of the versions included in these passages of met. show that Ovid knew the Hellenistic versions of the myths (vid. e.g. pp. 35, 72, 90, 93–4, 108). Zsolt Acél (88) considers that the Epitaphium Bionis is one of the main sources for the Orpheus tales (met. 10.1–11.66). His affirmation is based on the similarities in content, the linguistic parallels, and that Orpheus is a metapoetic figure in the mentioned texts. Luca Cadili (90, esp. 34–5) claims that one of the models which Ovid would have used to create the Cyparissus tale is Callimachus’ elegy of Acontius and Cydippe. The two stories take place on the island of Keos and share some characteristics of narrative technique, like the repetition of apostrophes. Renaud Robert (35) considers the influences on the Pygmalion tale (met. 10) of the philosophical and artistic tendencies of the 4th c. bce and the beginning of the Hellenistic era. This story has themes and characteristics typical of Hellenistic literature: love for  a statue (Ovid may have adopted the version of Philostephanus of Cyrene), ecphrasis of an artwork which seems to be a living being, the ars / natura paradox, the humanised gods, and the combination of eroticism and art criticism. Robert understands the Pygmalion tale as a defence of l’art pour l’art at a moment when artistic works were celebrated for their ideological value. Marion Lausberg (5) affirms that the verses of met. 10.515–18 correspond to various

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Hellenistic epigrams: the epigram AP 12.75 (= Asclepiades 21 Gow-Page)  and its reworking from Posidippus to Meleager. Enrico Livrea (34) suggests that in Call. Hec. fr. 18.10 διπλόον should be taken as a reference to  a double darkness: night falls and  a storm approaches. If this inter­ pretation is accepted, this passage could have been imitated by Ovid in met. 11.521 and 550. Mario Labate (74) distinguishes two worlds: on one side, that of Il. and Aen., where the fantastical and hyperbolic are discarded; on the other, that of Od., Hellenistic and Ovidian poetry, which abandon the imaginary heroic past. Labate offers an intertextual study of the duel between Achilles and Cycnus (met. 12) and Theoc. 25, since Hercules represents the heroic archetype in this type of poetry. The work of Sophia Papaïoannou (67) examines the episode of the death of the two Centaur lovers (met. 12.393–428), a tender interlude in the battle scene between Centaurs and Lapiths. The passage shows the evolution of the Centaur stereotype from the Hellenistic era, and Ovid’s intention to modify the established representations by conceding both physical and moral human traits to his two characters. Thomas Gärtner (92) relates the transformation of Caenis into Caeneus (met. 12) in a poem written by Sostratus about Tiresias (SH 733, FGrHist 23 F 7), and does not discount it as a direct source for Ovid. He also establishes parallels between the myth of Tiresias in Sostratus, and the Ovidian tales about Mestra (met. 8) and the Sibyl (met. 14). Douglas Doll (65) defends the thesis that Arg. of Apollonius is the secondary source of the Ovidian “Aeneid” (met. 13.623–14.608). In some cases, Ovid accentuates Apollonian elements which are already present in Virgil’s epic poem; in others, the met. story differs from Aen. and can be explained by references to Arg. Alan Griffin (10) affirms that “Ovid’s treatment of Polyphemus’ love for the nymph Galatea is an extended paraphrase of Theocritus’ two idylls [sc. 6 and 11]. It also draws on Homer and there are echoes of Virgil’s Eclogues” (190, my additions). Ovid, however, adapts the material and adds elements which are not present in Theocritus (touches of cruelty, burlesque and lightheartedness) and introduces  a love triangle with much more explosive emotional potential. Nicolas Gross (66) analyses in four speeches (met. 13.1–398, 399–575, 749–897, 917–65) the allusions to their main models (respectively the Homeric epic, E. Hec., Theoc. 11, and Apollo’s speech in met. 1.504–24). The result is a parody: in the case of Polyphemus (61–4), Gross asserts that his speech mimics the essential topics and arrangement of Theoc. 11, and underlines the poet’s ability to create humorous incongruity from Homeric, Theocritean, and some innovative elements. Ivan Aurenty (77) examines the reception and rewriting of Greek myths protagonised by the Cyclops in Virgil (36–42), Ovid (42–8) and Petronius (48–51). The Ovidian story of Polyphemus and Galatea recalls the plot of Theocr. id. 11 and its imitation in Verg. ecl. 2, but the final behaviour of the protagonist is Odysseic; for this reason, the author defines the story as a “«pastiche sanglant» de Théocrite, double d’un «pastiche bucolique» d’Homère” (46). In this combination, as in the complex psychology of the Cyclops, lies Ovid’s innovation (42–6). Afterwards Aurenty studies the character of Polyphemus present in the tale

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of Achaemenides (met. 14) in relation to Od. and to Aen. (46–8). Giovanna Mereu (93) also detects certain analogies between Polyphemus’s song in met. 13 and the Cyclops in Theoc. 11. However, she focuses on the differences (amplifying the details in a grotesque way, absence of cathartic value, interest in psychological implications) and the Ovidian innovations (the introduction of Acis and Galatea’s point of view). Mario Labate (118) also reviews the sources of the Polyphemus story, including Theoc. 6 and 11. The importance of the Ovidian version consists in “chiarire perché e come il personaggio che il lettore incontra in Omero, tanto diverso da quello di cui può leggere in Teocrito, è diventato quel mostro che la tradizione letteraria … certifica sia diventato” (239). The Homeric and primeval Cyclops, due to his falling in love, starts a transformation into a civil being, although the amatory rejection reawakes his violence. Laura Aresi (122) makes a thorough study of the story of Circe, Glaucus and Scylla (met. 14), in points analogous to those of Polyphemus, Galatea and Acis (met. 13). In both stories, Ovid would have used Homer and a Hellenistic poet (Apollonius in the first case, and Theocritus in the second) as sources. Aresi emphasises the influence of Circe in A. R. 4.566ss. on that of met. The article by Sara Myers (46) examines the story of Vertumnus and Pomona (met. 14.623–771). In the first section, “Poetic Program: Programmatic Beginnings and Endings” (228–42), she establishes a comparison between this and the Apollo and Daphne story (met. 1). She asserts that these two episodes function to evoke, at key points in the poem, the associations of met. with the Alexandrian-neoteric poetic tradition. The influence of Alexandrine and neoteric poetry is also perceptible in the embedded story of Iphis and Anaxarete. Stephanie McCarter (119, 376–81) shows the dependent relation between the conversation of Venus and Jupiter in met. 14.584–95, and that of Artemis and Zeus in Call. Dian. For Enrico Magnelli (123), the literary models of Priap. 65 date back to the Hellenistic era (Leon. AP 9.99 = HE 2161–6; Eratosth. Erigone). Also in this same literary tradition is met. 15.111–5, the most immediate precedent of Priap. 65. Gregory Hutchinson (86) considers that the fragments of P.Oxy. 4711, which feature the stories of Narcissus, Asterie and Adonis, belong to Parthenius. In his opinion, they would have been used by Ovid, providing him with  a model of formally discontinuous poetry and an intertext for structure, plot and details. Hans Bernsdorff (89), however, claims that the fragments of P.Oxy. 4711 form part of the διηγήματα collection, and doubts that Ovid’s work contains allusions to the poems of this papyrus. Esteban Calderón (113) places the author of the fragments in the 2th–1th c. bce, and compares some elements of these three myths with their Ovidian versions.

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b. Philosophers, historians, mythographers 1.  D. Z. Nikitas, “Zur Leukipposgeschichte”, Hellenica 33, 1981, 14–29. 2.  F. Williams, “Augustus and Daphne: Ovid Metamorphoses 1.560–64 and Phylarchus FGrH 81 F 32 (b)”, in F. Cairns (ed.), PLLS 3, 1981, 249–57. 3.  A. Henrichs, “Die Kekropidensage im PHerc. 243. Von Kallimachos zu Ovid”, BCPE 13, 1983, 33–43. 4.  P. E. Knox, “Scylla’s Nurse”, Mnemosyne 43, 1990, 158–9. 5.  J. Wills, “Callimachean models for Ovid’s ‘Apollo-Daphne’”, MD 24, 1990, 143–56. 6.  C. A. Francese, Parthenius of Nicaea and Roman Poetry, Frankfurt a. M.-BerlinBern-Bruxelles-New York-Oxford-Wien 1996 (Studien zur klassischen Philologie 126). 7.  F. Williams, “Daphne transformed: Parthenius, Ovid, and E. M. Forster”, Hermathena 166, 1999, 45–62. 8.  S. M. Wheeler, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Universal History”, in S. Levene, D.  Nelis (eds.),  Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002. 9.  A. Cameron, “A Greek source of Ovid’s Metamorphoses?”, in D.  Accorinti, P. Chuvin (eds.), Des géants à Dionysos. Mélanges de mythologie et de poésie grecques offerts à Francis Vian, Alessandria 2003, 41–59 (Hellenica 10). 10.  T. Cole, “Ovid, Varro and Castor of Rhodes: the chronological architecture of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, HSPh 102, 2004, 355–422. 11.  D. Obbink, “Vergil’s De pietate: From Ehoiae to Allegory in Vergil, Philodemus, and Ovid”, in D. Armstrong et al. (eds.), Vergil, Philodemus, and the Augustans, Austin (TX) 2004, 175–209. 12.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Les Ἐρωτικὰ παθήματα de Parthenius de Nicée: de la mytho­ graphie à l’usage des poètes”, in J. Fabre-Serris (ed.), Des dieux et du monde. Fonctions et usages de la mythographie, Villeneuve-d’Asq 2007, 35–46 (Ateliers. Cahiers de la Maison de la recherche 38). 13.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Ovide lecteur de Parthénios de Nicée”, in A.  Zucker (ed.), Littérature et érotisme dans les Passions d’amour de Parthénios de Nicée. Actes du colloque de Nice. 31 mai 2006, Grenoble 2008, 189–205. 14.  T. Cole, Ovidius Mythistoricus. Legendary time in the Metamorphoses, Frankfurt am Main-Berlin-Bern-Bruxelles-New York-Oxford-Wien 2008 (Studien zur klassischen Philologie 160). Reviews: L. Jansen, JRS 99, 2009, 265–6; J. Poucet, AC 79, 2010, 449–50. 15.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Le cycle thébain des Métamorphoses: un exemple de mytho­ graphie genrée?”, Eugesta 1, 2010, 99–120.

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16.  K. Fletcher, “A handbook for the translation of Greek myth into Latin: Parthenius, Gallus, and the Erotica pathemata”, in S. McElduff, E. Sciarrino (eds.), Complicating the History of Western Translation. The Ancient Mediterranean in Perspective, Manchester (UK)-Kinderhook (NY) 2011, 12–24. 17.  M. Alganza Roldán, “En torno a las metamorfosis ‘increíbles’ de Paléfato”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 29–47. 18.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Ovide et les mythographes: pratiques catalogique et narrative dans les Métamorphoses: l’exemplum d’Atalante et Hippomène”, in Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 159–75. 19.  M. G. Hopman, Scylla: Myth, Metaphor, Paradox, Cambridge-New York 2012. Reviews: uid. supra. 20.  M. Vandersmissen, “L’inceste dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide, un thème emprunté à Parthénios de Nicée?”, Latomus 71, 2012, 1015–25. 21.  J. Farrell, “Complementarity and Contradiction in Ovidian Mythography”, in S. M. Trzaskoma, R. S. Smith (eds.), Writing Myth: Mythography in the Ancient World, Leuven-Paris-Walpole, MA, 2013, 223–251 (Studies in the History and Anthropology of Religion 4). 22.  M. Vandersmissen, “Ovid, Metamorphoses IV 94  – Parthenius, Ἐρωτικὰ παθήματα 32.1–2: A Moral Interpretation”, Emerita 81, 2013, 203–7. 23.  J. Fabre-Serris, “La pratique mythographique des Parthénius de Nicée et l’usage des Ἐρωτικὰ Παθήματα chez Gallus, Properce et Ovide”, Polymnia 1, 2015, 61–82. The mythographer whom Ovid mainly used was Parthenius. Frederick Williams (2) comments on the importance of Hellenistic literature for the Python, and Apollo and Daphne stories (met. 1). He studies the tale protagonised by the god and the nymph, relating it to Callimachean poetry (vid. supra)  and to Parth. 15. After presenting concisely the differences between the Greek mythographer’s version and the one in met. (251–3), he comes to the conclusion that another influential version of the story was probably available to Ovid, possibly Phylarchus’, in which the Daphne story is immersed in a highly political context (253–4, 256). The work by Jeffrey Wills (5) focuses on the importance of various Callimeachean hymns for the stories of Daphne, Io and Callisto (vid. supra). In the first of these, Wills also sees the influence of Parth. 15. Additionally, Frederick Williams (7) asserts that Ovid used the story in Parth. 15 for the Daphne myth. However, while comparing the two passages, he highlights especially the differences between them (47–8). The rest of the article looks at the reception of these two versions in the stories of Edward Morgan Forster, especially in Other Kingdom. Peter Knox (4) suggests a common source, possibly Parthenius, for the Scylla story (met. 8) and Ciris. He thinks it likely that the Parthenius version includes a role for

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Scylla’s nurse, but that Ovid would have omitted this passage to focus on the moral dilemma of the heroine. Dimitrios Nikitas (1) considers as possible Hellenistic models for the Iphis story (met. 9) Nicander (Ant. Lib. 17, 1–6), Parth. 5, and the work by Hermesianax. Comparing the Ovidian episode with its sources, it seems obvious that Ovid adopted mythological elements and adapted them to his poetic neccessities. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (12) mentions some elements of the Erotika Pathemata (EP) prologue, the common characteristics shared between Parthenius’ summaries and the rhetorical controversy genre, as well as the possible influence of this mytho­ grapher on Gallus, Propertius and Ovid. The main point is the importance of Parthenius’ work for the erotic tales of met., and that the Latin poet adopted certain narrative sequences present in EP, and introduced them into other myths (45). In a later work, Fabre-Serris (13) alludes to Parthenius’ influence on met. in a general way. The EP supplies Ovid with content for his stories, and also  a narrative model with motifs and sequences common to various tales and internal recurrences. The scholar focuses on Orpheus’ song (met. 10–11), in which the indirect influence of the Hellenistic mythographer can be seen. In another of her works (18), she claims that the practices developed by the mythographers, the catalogue (Castor of Rhodes, Varro) and the continuous narration, were used by Ovid to create stories in which a relation between the mythical and moral is established. She focuses, again, on Orpheus’ song (met. 10), whose main model is the EP, and which she uses to reflect on the mix of catalogue, narrative technique formed by sequences (typical of Parthenius), and the rhetorical technique inspired by the controversiae and suasoriae (esp. 162–3). In a later work, Fabre-Serris (23) defends the following thesis: “la révolution narrative que constituent les Métamorphoses s’explique par une mise en oeuvre de la pratique mythographique de Parthénius … Et ce dans une perpective que été plus nettamente morale que ce n’était le cas dans les Ἐρωτικὰ Παθήματα” (77). To illustrate her theory, she analyses the transitions and relations of the stories in Orpheus’ song, and the influence of Parth. 15 and Parth. 11 (specifically, the second version of Byblis’ story) on the Ovidian story of Apollo and Daphne. The scholar establishes an equivalence between furor, used in the Byblis and Iphis (met. 9) story, and ἐρωτικὰ παθήματα, in such a way that Ovid is writing about the same topic as Parthenius. From Christopher Francese’s book (6) part of the chapter “Incest in Cinna and Ovid” (143–155) concerns us. He points out the similarities between Parth. 17.5–6 and the Myrrha episode (met. 10), in which he also detects the influence of Nicander (Ant. Lib. 34.4–5), and between Parth. 11.3–4 and the Ovidian version of the Byblis tale (met. 9) (47–8). In Parthenius we can also find many elements of Ovid’s canon of incest; however, according to Francese, it is impossible to be certain that the mythographer is Ovid’s direct source for these strategies (150–3). In the “Scylla and Tarpeia” chapter (157–89), he examines the Scylla story (met. 8), also recounted by Parthenius (Schol. Dion. Perieg. 420 = SH 637a; Eustath. ad Dion. Perieg. 420 = SH 637b). Ovid used certain resources already employed by the Hellenistic mythographer, but the ending of the story may be his own invention. Kristopher Fletcher (16) examines the influence of Parthenius on Ovid’s tales of Byblis, and Apollo and Daphne. In terms of the second version of Byblis’ incestuous love in Parth. 11, Ovid introduced modifications: he expanded on

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Byblis’ forbidden passion, and focused on her composing a letter to her brother, and on her mental state. The Ovidian version of the Apollo and Daphne episode differs considerably from Parth. 15. Ovid converted the Greek text into  a discussion of Roman power, and lent the laurel a new significance. Marc Vandersmissen (22) accepts the theory proposed by Lightfoot (Poetical Fragments and the Erotika pathemata, Oxford 1999, 537–42): the Pyramus and Thisbe episode (met. 4) is partly based on the story of Anthippe of Parth. 32.1–2. Vandersmissen compares the two passages and brings new arguments to support this thesis: both stories share the same moral structure, as well as elements that reinforce our ethical interpretation. The moral character of Parth. 32 is also present in the story of the daughters of Minyas, which introduces the Pyramus and Thisbe tale. In another article, the same scholar (20) studies the influence of Parthenius on met., focusing specifically on the Latin poet’s treatment of incest. In his conclusion Vandersmissen states: “L’analyse du thème de l’inceste a révélé un traitement littéraire commun entre les Ἐρωτικὰ παθήματα et les Métamorphoses. Dans l’une et l’autre oeuvre … l’amour entre membres d’une même famille est présenté comme une solution heureuse losqu’une série de règles sont respectées” (1024). However, the vocabulary which the Latin poet uses to refer to these types of relations (crimen, scelus, furor) shows that they went against Augustus’ moral politics. In pp. 1022–24, Vandersmissen emphasises the similarities between Parth. 11 and the Byblis story, and between Parth. 17 and the Myrrha tale. Alan Cameron (9) compares the seven stories of metamorphosis in the ms. Laurentianus Graecus 56.1 (Lycaon, Argus, Syrinx and Pan, Cycnus, Corone – i. e. Coronis –, Nyctimene, Leucothoe and Helius) with the Ovidian versions. The striking coincidences between the excerpts and Ovid are structural, but the two versions present significant differences in terms of names, content and use of formulas. Cameron concludes: “Ovid was influenced by Anonymus, or rather the fuller, earlier text of which Anonymus is a skimpy abridgment” (55). This text would be Hellenistic. In the Alexandrines, Ovid would have found models to weave all his metamorphoses into one continuous narrative, like Nicander, Anonymus and Parthenius. Stephen Wheeler (8, 181–9) maintains that met. may be read as a universal history. The Ovidian poem combines diachronic and synchronic – or temporal and spatial – elements, like the works of historians Polybius and Diodorus (among others). On p. 186 he also alludes briefly to the similarities with mythological handbooks and chronica such as that of Castor of Rhodes. To finish (187–8), he establishes parallels (possibly coincidental) between Diodorus’s Bibliotheca Historica and met., and mentions the differences between this epic poem and the historiographer (188–9): “[i]n the case of the Metamorphoses, all of history is mythologized, from beginning to end” (189). Thomas Cole (10) examines the met.’s chronological structure, and its debts to Castor of Rhodes’ five lists of kings, with which it shares many common elements. He explains the differences between the two authors, caused by the influence of Varro’s De gente populi Romani, the inconsistency of the previous tradition, and the poets’ own needs. He emphasises that, although Ovid is not always exhaustive, and the chronology is not always linear, a kind of ‘chronological imperative’ is constantly

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present in the work. In one section of another study, “Ovid and Castor of Rhodes” (39–62), Thomas Cole (14) points out that Ovid’s systematic mythological chronology is indebted to the king lists contained in the Castor of Rhodes’ Chronica, and highlights the indebtedness to Varro. Cole establishes correlations between various generations in met., and the kingdoms mentioned by the chronicler; he comments on the departures, additions and manipulations to Castor’s chronology and genealogies. In met. the chronological impossibilities are confined to catalogues, and other obvious violations of chronology are either unintentional, or a sign that some of the narratives were composed separately. Jacqueline Fabre-Serris (15) focuses on analysing the organisation of met. 3’s stories: in this book, the tales are linked by both geography and genealogy. In the linear mode of presenting the stories, the scholar detects Parthenius’ influence. According to Fabre-Serris, the Theban cycle has at its core the episode of the death of the serpent of Ares and the sewing of its teeth, as well as the idea of focusing on sexuality, desire, and pleasure, as seen from a masculine perspective. Comparing the Ovidian version of the Theban cycle with the one offered by Apollodorus in his Bibliotheca serves to confirm, as she sees it, her hypothesis that Ovid chose each of the tales in book 3 based on the reading he makes of the episode in which Cadmus slays the serpent. There are fewer essays about the influence of Hellenistic philosophers on met. Albert Henrichs (3) studies the PHerc. 243 II fragment, from De Pietate of Philodemus, and compares the version which has the myths of Cecrops’ family with the Ovidian tale of Aglauros, Mercury and Herse (met. 2). The fragment would constitute the ‘missing link’ between the Ovidian version and its Hellenistic predeccesors. Dirk Obbink (11) uses met. 6.115–20 to reconstuct part of the papyri text PHerc. 1602 fr. 6 and PHerc. 243 fr. 3: these also contains fragments of De Pietate by Philodemus (196). Based on  a comparative analysis of fragments of the two works, he claims that Philodemus and Ovid use the same mythographic source: the Περὶ θεῶν of the grammarian Apollodorus of Athens (198–9). The influence of Apollodorus’ work on met. can be seen in how Ovid reduces the gods to their dynameis (201), and reverts to Apollodorus’ allegorical explanation (204). Joseph Farrell (21) adduces a selection of examples from epist., met., and fast. to suggest how the characteristic concerns of prose mythographers inform all three poems, and also how Ovid transforms what he borrows. He starts by examining the lists of Neptune’s loves in epist. 19.129–38 and in met. 6.115–22 (224–32). In the names of the episode in met. the influence of Apollodorus of Athens (PHerc 1428 fr. 5 = FGr Hist 224 F 103) can be detected, and in those of epist. that of Philodemus of Gadara too. However, “Hero’s attitude corresponds clearly to the general thrust of Apollodorus’ Project” and “Arachne’s exposé corresponds to the very different concerns of Philodemus” (232). The rest of the chapter is dedicated to comparing the list of Alban kings in met. 14.609–22 and in fast. 4.31–56 (232–9), and to the presence of Arcadian mythology in these two poems. Minerva Alganza (17) alludes to the rational interpretation that Palaephatus offers of some myths in his treatment Περὶ τῶν ἀπίστων, among which various form part of Ovid’s met.

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Marianne Hopman (19), in the chapter “Organizing the tradition” (195–215), refers to the stories in which Scylla is a main character, to measure the influence of Hellenistic poets and mythographers in the approach taken by Roman authors to these myths. She suggests that the Scylla tales (met. 8.6–154, 13.728–14.74) are probably of Hellenistic origin, since the protagonists undergo permanent transformations. c. Art 1.  H. Herter, “Die Delphine des Dionysos”, Archaiognosia 1, 1980, 101–34. 2.  P. Gros, “Les «Métamorphoses» d’Ovide et le décor intérieur des temples romains. Un essai de définition du dernier art «baroque» hellénistique”, in L’art décoratif à Rome à la fin de la république et au debut du principat. Table Ronde organisée par l’École française de Rome (Rome, 10–11 mai 1979), Rome 1981, 353–66 (Collection de l’École Française de Rome 55). Hans Herter (1) runs through a number of authors who either told, or referred to, the myth of the Tyrian sailors (met. 3). While the author traces similarities, differences and possible influences, he also reviews an ample bibliography on the subject (101–28). For the moment when Ovid describes the transformation of the sailors into dolphins, Herter does not rule out that the Monument of Lysikrates (335–334 a.C.) may have influenced the poet, since Ovid could have seen it in his voyage to Athens as a youth (128–133). According to Pierre Gros (2), some scenes in met. recall groups of sculptures from the early Hellenistic era (359), especially those from the school of Pergamon (360). Because he uses secondary tales, Ovid is a good representative of the beginning part of the Hellenistic period. Gros defines his art as “late-Hellenistic «baroque»” (365). 4. Latin Authors a. Republican period 1.  H. M. Currie, “Ovid and the Roman Stage”, ANRW II.31.4, 1981, 2701–42. 2.  J. Granarolo, “Présence d’Ovide et présence de Catulle dans Ovide”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 31–43 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 3.  J. F. Miller, “Ennius and the Elegists”, ICS 8, 1983, 277–95. 4.  U. Todini, Il pavone sparito. Ennio modello di Ovidio, Roma 1983. Review: A. Romeo, BStudLat 14, 1984, 121–4. 5.  G. B. Conte, Memoria dei poeti e sistema letterario. Catullo, Virgilio, Ovidio, Lucano, Palermo 19852 . 6.  H. Hofmann, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses: Carmen Perpetuum, Carmen Deductum”, Papers of the Liverpool Latin Seminar 5, 1985, 223–42.

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7.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, Tra Ovidio e Seneca, Bologna 1990 (Edizioni e Saggi Universitari di Filologia Classica 44). Reviews: G.  Nuzzo, BStudLat 21, 1991, 58–62; A.  Borgo, Orpheus 13, 1992, 413–15; L.  Castagna, Prometheus 18, 1992, 92–4; C. D. N. Costa, CR 42, 1992, 196–7; P. Esposito, Vichiana 3, 1992, 270–4; G. Garbarino, CCC 13, 1992, 357–8; E. Mignogna, Maia 44, 1992, 215–16; M. L. Ricci, InvLuc 13/14, 1991/92, 315–17; F. Stok, GIF 44, 1992, 150–1; D. Weber, WS 105, 1992, 271–2; P.-J. Dehon, Latomus 52, 1993, 931–2; G. Focardi, Sileno 19, 1993, 596; M. Tartari Chersoni, RFIC 121, 1993, 226–8. 8.  G. Solimano, “Inganno  e verità della metamorfosi: divagazioni tra Ovidio e Plauto”, in S. Feraboli (ed.), Mosaico: studi in onore di Umberto Albini / dedicati dal D.AR.FI.CL.ET. ‘F. Della Corte’, Genova 1993, 209–16. 9.  L. Landolfi, “Europa: da Mosco a Ovidio”, BStudLat 24, 1994, 500–26. 10.  P. Hardie, “Lucretius and the Delusions of Narcissus”, MD 20/21, 1988, 71–89 (= P. Hardie, A.  Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations: Essays on the Metamorphoses and its Reception. Cambridge 1999, 123–43). 11.  R. M. Wilhelm, “The Metamorphoses of the Golden Age in Greek and Latin Writers”, AugAge 10, 1990/92, 58–74. 12.  F. Bertini, “Ennio in Ovidio”, in G.  Papponetti (ed.), Ovidio poeta della memoria. Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi, Sulmona, 19–21 ottobre 1989, Roma 1991, 191–200. 13.  U. Todini, L’altro Omero: scienza e storia nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio, Napoli 1992. Reviews: A.  Borgo, BStudLat 23, 1993, 109–11; W. S. Anderson, Gnomon 68, 1996, 157–60. 14.  M. Hoefmans, “Myth into Reality: the Metamorphosis of Daedalus and Icarus (Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII, 183–235)”, AC 63, 1994, 137–60. 15.  K. S. Myers, Ovid’s Causes: Cosmogony and Aetiology in the Metamorphoses, Ann Arbor 1994. Reviews: D. F. Kennedy, G&R 42, 1995, 227; S. M. Wheeler, BMCR 1995.03.31; S. J. Harrison, CR 46, 1996, 24–5; M. W. Musgrove, AJPh 117, 1996, 338–41; W. S. Anderson, CW 90, 1997, 61; J. Loehr, IJCT 4, 1998, 629–31. 16.  D. P. Fowler, “From epos to cosmos: Lucretius, Ovid, and the poetics of segmentation”, in D. Innes, H. Hine, C. Pelling (eds.), Ethics and rhetoric: classical essays for Donald Russell on his seventy-fifth birthday, Oxford-New York 1995, 3–18. 17.  P. Hardie, “The speech of Pythagoras in Ovid Metamorphoses 15: Empedoclean Epos”, CQ 45, 1995, 204–14. 18.  S. M. Wheeler, “Ovid’s use of Lucretius in Metamorphoses 1.67–8”, CQ 45, 1995, 200–3. 19.  G. Maggiulli, “La cena di Baucis: presupposti per una metamorfosi”, Heli­ kon 35/38, 1995/98, 371–83.

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20.  P. Torricelli, “Metamorfosi verbali: Ov. Met. XV 234–236”, SCO 46, 1996, 253–68. 21.  M. Ciappi, “Contaminazioni fra tradizioni letterarie affini di ascendenza tragica nel racconto ovidiano del mito di Procne e Filomela (met. VI 587–666)”, Maia 50, 1998, 433–63. 22.  J. Fabre-Serris, Mythologie et littérature à Rome. La réécriture des mythes aux Iers siècles avant et après J.-C., Lausanne 1998. Reviews: F. Cupaiolo, BStudLat 29, 1999, 223–4; A. Deremetz, REL 77, 1999, 332–3; R. Le Mer, Archives de sciences sociales des religions 108, 1999, 72–3; B. Powell, BMCR 1999.09.06; F. Prescendi, MH 56, 1999, 255; P. Desy, AC 69, 2000, 344–5; P. Fedeli, Aufidus 14.42, 2000, 133–4; M. Fox, JRS 90, 2000, 236–7; N. Méthy, RBPh 78, 2000, 204–6; B. Rochette, Kernos 13, 2000, 310–13. 23.  S. Hinds, Allusion and Intertext: Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Cambridge 1998. Reviews: M.  Gale, G&R 46, 1998, 239–40; R.  Lyne, TLS 4975, 1998, 30; C. Nappa, BMCR 98.9.8; G. Conte, JRS 89, 1999, 217–20; M. Lowrie, CW 92, 1999, 384–5; P. A. Miller, CPh 94, 1999, 351–5; J. J. O’Hara, CR 49, 1999, 97–8; P. Tordeur, AC 68, 1999, 395; G. Tronchet, REA 101, 1999, 226–8; J. E. G. Zetzel, Phoenix 53, 1999, 171–3; S. Raimondi, Faventia 22, 2000, 165–7; A.  Deremetz, Latomus 60, 2001, 783–4; B.  Mota, Euphrosyne 30, 2002, 449–50; M.  Negri, Athenaeum 90, 2002, 301–3. 24. K. Galinsky, “The Speech of Pythagoras in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in F.  Cairns, M.  Heath (eds.), Papers of the Leeds international Latin Seminar 10, Leeds 1998, 313–36 (ARCA 38) (= “El discurso de Pitágoras en las Metamorfosis de Ovidio”, Auster 4, 1999, 21–40). 25.  A. Setaioli, “L’impostazione letteraria del discorso di Pitagora nel XV libro delle Metamorfosi”, in W.  Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 487–51 (Studien zur Klassischen Philologie 100). 26.  F. Lecocq, “De la création du monde: les «De rerum natura» d’Ovide ou Lucrèce métamorphosé”, in R. Poignault (ed.), Présence de Lucrèce: actes du colloque tenu à Tours, 3–5 décembre 1998, Tours 1999, 129–47. 27.  L. Edmunds, Intertextuality and the Reading of Roman Poetry, Baltimore 2001. Reviews: P. Hardie, CR 52, 2002, 296–7; D. J. Kuyat, BMCR 2002.08.37; J. Fabre-Serris, Gnomon 75, 2003, 449–51; S. Goldhill, CW 96, 2003, 331–2; P. A. Miller, IJCT 9, 2003, 412–23; C.  Martindale, CJ 99, 2004, 95–8; G.  De Santis, Ordia prima 4, 2005, 199–203. 28.  L. Landolfi, “Il nefas mancato e i suoi retroscena. Dal sacrificio di Ifigenia alla facondia di Ulisse (Ov. Met. XII, 24–38; XIII, 181–95)”, Vichiana 3, 2001, 26–38. 29.  C. Segal, “Intertextuality and immortality: Ovid, Pythagoras and Lucretius in Metamorphoses 15”, MD 46, 2001, 63–101.

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30.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Ovide et la naissance du genre pastoral: réflexions sur l’ars noua et la hiérarchie des genres Mét 1,668–719)”, MD 50, 2003, 185–94. 31.  J. B. DeBrohun, “Centaurs in love and war: Cyllarus and Hylonome in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 12.393–428”, AJPh 125, 2004, 417–52. 32.  H. Jacobson, “Ovid Metamorphoses 15.88–90”, CQ 55, 2005, 651. 33.  A. Keith, “Sources and genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston-Köln 2002, 235–69. 34. J. P. Schwindt, “Zeiten und Räume in augusteischer Dichtung”, in J. P. Schwindt (ed.), La représentation du temps dans la poésie augustéenne = Zur Poetik der Zeit in augusteischer Dichtung, Heidelberg 2005, 1–18. 35.  A. Barchiesi, “Exemplarity: Between Practice and Text”, in J. Papy, W. Verbaal, Y.  Maes (eds.), Latinitas Perennis. Volume II: Appropriation and Latin Literature, Leiden-Boston 2009, 41–62. 36.  S. Casali, “Ovidian Intertextuality”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Malden, Ma-Oxford 2009, 341–54. 37.  S. Laigneau-Fontaine, “Procris et Céphale dans les Métamorphoses: un épisode épique entre tragédie et comédie”, in I. Jouteur (ed.), La théâtralité de l’œuvre ovi­ dienne, Paris 2009, 157–72. 38.  D. P. Nelis, “Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.416–51: noua monstra and the foedera naturae”, in P. Hardie (ed.), Paradox and the marvellous in Augustan literature and culture, Oxford-New York 2009, 248–67. 39.  D. Wray, “Ovid’s Catullus and the Neoteric Moment in Roman Poetry”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Malden, Ma-Oxford 2009, 252–64. 40.  T. Baier, “Accius Tereus: ein Antibürgerkriegsstück?”, Aevum(ant) 10, 2010, 221–33. 41.  M. A. J. Heerink, “Ovid’s Aeginetan plague and the metamorphosis of the Georgics”, Hermes 139, 2011, 464–72. 42.  D. Van Schoor, “Nec me mea fallit imago: Ovid’s poetics of irony and reflections of Lucretius and Pythagoras in the Metamorphoses”, AClass 54, 2011, 125–47. 43. M. L. Delvigo, “La voce  e il corpo: Ovidio tra mitologia  e scienza”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 211–28. 44. K. S. Myers, “Catullan contexts in Ovid’s «Metamorphoses»”, in I. Du Quesnay, A. J. Woodman, (edd.), Catullus. Poems, Books, Readers, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2012, 45.  C. Chinn, “Statius’ Ovidian Achilles”, Phoenix 67, 2013, 320–42. 46.  D. Stratenwerth, “Den Zeitaltermythos mit Verständnis lesen”, AU 56, 2013, 59–67. 47.  A. Schiesaro, “Materiam superabat opus: Lucretius Metamorphosed”, JRS 104, 2014, 73–104.

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We will organise our analysis by author and genre. The most exhaustive review of the relation of the Metamorphoses with the antique period’s authors and dramatic works is the one by Currie (1), who goes through authors such as Ennius, Pacuvius, Accius, Plautus and Terence. For the same reason, it is also the most general. He describes three types of elements used by Ovid: verbal, verbal and material, and verbal and structural. Currie lists  a series of passages with Ennius’ influence: met. 15.30–2; 8.549 ff.; 8.703 (Saturnius, edidit ore), 8.787 (from Ann. 41–2 Warmington), and he points out the sound effects in met. 8.774–6 originating from Ennius 183–5 (Wamington). Currie describes Ennius as an intellectual and sensitive man interested in making his audiences think and feel, who brought the ideas and critical attitudes of the liberal-minded Euripides to the Romans. In this way, the author asserts that the rationalising and humanitarian spirit of Ennius must have engaged Ovid’s attention, whence also originates the taste for maxims, alliteration, assonance and word-play. However most of the references are to the Sulmonan poet’s other works. Regarding Pacuvius, Currie draws attention to actutum (met. 3.557), and points out that the Pentheus episode in Ovid owes something to the tragic poet (met. 3.511–733). In addition, the story of the Tyrrhenian sailors (met. 3.592 ff.) and its attribution to Acoetes came from Pacuvius; he even causes the structure of Ovid’s Pentheus tale to be dramatic. Epic elements such as the description of a storm, while largely coming from Virgil, could have Pacuvian echoes: cf.  363–5 Warmington and met. 11.514–23 (Ceyx and Alcyone’s story). In addition, there may possibly be a connection between Pacuvius’ Armorum Iudicium (also that of Accius) and the story of Aiax (met. 13.2ff). Labate (49) prefers to link it with the episode of Euryalus in Aen. 9 (and that of the Homeric Doloneia), based on Ajax’s objections to Achilles. Another example is Pac. frag. 10 Warmington and met. 14.474. The influence of Accius can also be found in the depiction of certain characters, villains of extraordinary arrogance and iniquity: Atreus, Thyestes, Tereus, such as in met. 6.645–6 and Atreus 187–9 (Warmington). The Thyestian banquet in Accius’ Atreus also influenced Ovid’s account of the Philomela myth (met. 6.665). The same could be said about certain Accian colour in met. 8.738 (Erysichton’s impiety) and others. It is possible that, for the Procne-Philomela-Tereus myth, Ovid was acquainted with the tragedy by Accius entitled Tereus: cf. e.g. 639–42 Warmington and met. 6.455 ff. For Accius’ influence see also Ciappi (21), who carries out an extensive study into Ovid’s sources for the Procne-Philomela-Tereus episode. He points out the debt to Greek authors and Latin poets, such as Accius (for example trag. xiv; xv), Virgil (e.g. Aen. 7.392–6); and Ovid himself (e.g. epist. 12.212). Accius is also the object of the analysis by Thomas Baier (40), according to whom Ovid could have used his Tereus as a model. This play is considered to be a tragedy, portraying  a situation in which the victim and the guilty person cannot easily be distinguished from each other, as in  a civil war. In book 6 of met. Ovid, in turn, contaminates the story of Tereus with that of Atreus, deriving the dinner scene from Accius’ tragedy. For Currie, the Medea of Accius (381–96 Warmington) may have influenced met. 8.217–20. Naturally, humour (including irony) in Ovid must also be mentioned,

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hence a certain relationship with Latin comedians such as Plautus. Currie asserts the ‘spielerisch’ (playful, ludic) nature of the language and narrative in met. 4.416–542, the Ino episode. The writer considers that Ovid, in this aspect, invites comparison with Plautus: apart from the general spirit, certain linguistic and stylistic effects in Ovid could be considered reminiscent of the Roman comic playwright. In this way, the heaping up of words (coacervatio) is used for humorous purposes, in Ovid as in Plautus; this is exemplified by the catalogue, for instance that of Actaeon (met. 3.206–25), or the praise of Galatea (met. 13.789–807). Such double meanings, with etymological games, and even similar scenes, were also often used by Plautus: met. 1.617–21 (Jupiter surprised in an amorous encounter) and Asinaria 851 ff. The occasional detour from the Virgilian model may have been inspired by Plautus: cf.  e.g. Rudens 290–305, Aen. 1.314 ff., and met. 13.733 (or better 8.855). Landolfi’s article (9), in his analysis of the myth of Europa from Moschus to Ovid, picks up on  a characteristic of Plautus’ comedy and compares (pp. 504–5) met. 2.837–42 with Plaut. Amph. 104–6 and 880–1. He concludes that even if the Ovidian text does not present a meta-theatrical conversational device between character and spectators, aimed at clarifying the true profile of Jupiter, it does maintain the typical tone of the palliata intrigue, at least in the preparatory stages of Europa’s seduction. A certain link to Plautus (Phormio and Amphytruo) is noted by Laigneau-Fontaine (37) in her study. The story of Cephalus and Procris is defined as an epic tragi-comic episode, which borrows from tragedy the motifs of hunting and destiny, and from comedy the motifs of the heroine’s painful beauty and the hero’s disguise. Landolfi (28) analyses the two passages in which Ovid addresses the sacrifice of Iphigenia (met. 12.24–38; 13.181–95), comparing them with each other, and also with their Greek models, as well as with Naevius (Fr. 20 R 2), Ennius (scaen. 177–203 V.), Lucretius (1.82–101) and Varro (fr. 94–5). In Currie’s view (1), little in met. comes from Terence; some imagery of the love poets might develop the patterns established by the playwright. The chapter (8) by Solimano, apart from attempting  a classification of the metamorphoses, also deals with Roman comedy and Ovid. Specifically, the author addresses the relation between met. and transvestism, including a similar lexicon: Amph. 65–7, 888; capt. 37–9, as well as Bacchus, the god of masks, the deceiver par excellence (met. 3.511–733), and the relation between dominus and servus in 2.416–19; 14.663–94; 8.855–68. Ennius is also named by John Miller (3), although the Republican-era poet is not Miller’s principal objective, due to the connection between ann. 1.65 V. and met. 14.814: unus erit quem tu tolles in caerula caeli, regarding the apotheosis of Romulus, and independently of Virgil, Aen. 5.813–15. In this way Stephen Hinds (23), in his influential book, explains how Ovid assimilates, comments on and rewrites previous literary tradition. For example, he mentions the appearance of the same verse from Ennius, ann. 1.65 V., in met. 14.814 (unus erit quem tu tolles in caerula caeli), concerning the apotheosis of Romulus: Mars reminds Jupiter of his promise to elevate Rome’s founder to the status of a god. Ovid figuratively underlines an appeal to the divine authority of Jupiter, or an appeal to the poetic authority of

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Ennius. Miller makes his reference to the English translation of Gian Biagio Conte’s book, The Rhetoric of Imitation. Genre and Poetic memory in Virgil and Other Latin Poets, edited and with a foreword by Charles Segal (Ithaca-London 1986). Conte (5) is quoted because he is the source of the relation between Ennius, ann. 1.65 V. and met. 14.814. More exhaustive in terms of how Ennius influences Ovid, Todini (4) makes an attempt to reconstruct the proemium of Ennius’ Annales based on the poet’s work. Above all, the author examines the debt owed by Ovid’s met. 15 to Ennius: the topic of the transmigration of souls, with its symbol ‘il pavone’. A development of this is presented in Torini’s monograph (13). Hofmann (6) discusses the last verse of met. in relation to Ennius’ verse frg. var. 2.18 V2: cur? uolito uiuos per ora uirum, and in general about the republican poet’s impact on Ovid. Another general work is that of Bertini (12): he highlights that the debt to Ennius is modest, only a recognition like pater Ennius. Alessandro Barchiesi (35) also reviews the connection between Enn. ann. 1.65 V. and met. 14.814: unus erit quem tu tolles in caerula caeli. In addition, Sergio Casali (36) considers this relation in his generic review of Ovidian imitationes of earlier authors, for example the case of Enn. ann. 1.65 V. in Ovid met. 14.812–15, about the apotheosis of Romulus. Edmunds (27) presents a theoretical elaboration on intertextuality, with examples. Hence Ovid’s quotation of Ennius, with a certain humorous effect, in met. 14.812–15: two separate poetic creations in which Ovid evokes fiction; by quoting Ennius before confirming the deification of Romulus, Ovid reveals his fictional character. Alison Keith (33) connects met. 4.11–17 and Ennius (trag. 52.120–4 Jocelyn). Thisbe’s apparent death falls within the generic parameters of the ancient novel, but Pyramus’ demise introduces  a familiar motif to the tragedy: the suicide of  a protagonist. It is paralleled in Ennius’ description of Ajax’s suicide, in his tragedy of the same name: misso sanguine tepido tullii efflantes uolant (Enn. trag. 12 Jocelyn). Degl’Innocenti Pierini’s chapter (7) examines the possible presence of Lucilius in Ovid. The first part of the book, “Mito e attualità nelle ‘Metamorfosi’” includes a chapter “Il concilio degli dèi tra Lucilio  e Ovidio” (pp. 13–30) where she focuses especially on met. 1.190. The author claims that, rather than inmedicabile corpus, the reading inmedicabile vulnus is preferable. Moreover, Ovid may have been familiar with Lucilius’ Satires, whose first book also features concilium deorum. In addition, allusions from this book can be seen, for example, in met. 2.825 ff., and at the beginning of Ovid’s poem, in the story of Lycaon. Fabre-Serris (22) makes an exhaustive contribution about mythical presence, citing the authors of the first century B. C. Within each section, the peculiarities of the individual authors, from Catullus to Ovid, are highlighted and interpreted in relation to the historical-political phenomena that occurred in those years. In the first part, Fabre-Serris reviews the myths of the Golden Age, to see how they were initially presented by the Greeks, and then their special recasting in political terms by Catullus, Virgil, Horace, Tibullus and Ovid. She also examines the Gigantomachy in Horace and Ovid, often an allegory for the battle of Actium, and the influence of impietas in terms of improving mos maiorum, as desired by Augustan ideology. The second

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chapter considers the myth of Aeneas and the founding of Rome: Virgil’s Aeneis and Ovid’s met., while Horace and the elegiac poets discuss these themes at a time when the moral renewal of the Roman world was a major social and political objective. The third chapter takes us back to the past, considering Lucretius above all, with his desire to free man from religion (although he begins his poem by invoking divinity), and his influence on Virgil and Ovid. Fabre-Serris also analyses the discourse that Ovid places in the mouth of Pythagoras in met. The fourth chapter deals with love in myth, and myth in love poetry: Catullus, Gallus, Tibullus, Propertius, Horace, Virgil and Ovid appear there, with special emphasis on the furor of love, and special myths such as Narcissus and the erotic hunt or bath. Some years earlier, and with a more generalised viewpoint, Wilhelm (11) reviewed the topic of the Golden Age from Greek antecedents up to Ovid, including Lucretius (2.991–8; 2.1153–9; 5.933–4) and Virgil, especially eclogue 2. He goes over the differences between them, and discusses how Ovid uses the Golden Age in ideological terms, in relation to Augustus. By analysing common themes and characters, Granarolo (2) shows that Catullus was also able to influence Ovid. The poet imitates while he recreates, stamping his work with his own originality, an assertion that we will see in other authors. Landolfi (9) also alludes to Catullus’ influence on met. 2.873–5 (Europa’s attire ruffled by the wind), which evidence the impact of Hellenistic-Roman iconography and imitate Catullus in 64.68, while omitting the chaste gesture present in Mosch. 126–8. Catullus appears tangentially in Schwindt (34), who is more interested in the links between Catullus’ poetry, which describes a space-time of ‘hic et nunc’, and Augustan poets, like Horace and Virgil, who present more open space-time relations. The author exemplifies this, among others, with Ovid, in am. and met. 3.131–252, Actaeon’s fable. Although he focuses more on the relationship with the Achilleid of Statius than on the relationship with Ovid’s republican predecessors, Chinn (45) also comments on the relationship between Ovid and the centaur scene in book 12, with Catullus (64) and Lucretius (5.882–9). Much more detailed is the study by Wray (39), who examines the predecessors of Ovid in Roman poetry, especially Catullus and the Neoterics. The author analyses the influence of Catullus, and also of the Neoterics (H. Cinna and his Zmyrna, with the story of Myrrha in met. 10.298–502; Caecilius; L. Calvus and his Io, possibly present in met. 1.568–746) as antecedents of Ovid, especially in the composition of epyllia, so frequent in Fasti and met. He highlights the connection between the Narcissus episode (met. 3.353–6) and Catullus (62.39–47). This relationship is also highlighted by Davis (56), who compares (pp. 85–90) the Narcissus episode in met. 3.353–5 and Catullus 62.39–46. Myers (44) examines a series of allusions to Catullus in Ovid’s epic poem, cha­ racterised by their lucidity in terms of the Catullan content, especially in the major themes, for example met. 3.351–5 and Catull. 62.39 and 62.42–5 (wedding poem); met. 14.661–7 and Catull. 62.49–55; met. 8.177–82 and Catull. 66.59–62 (catasterism); met. 1.144–8 and Catull. 64.399–402 (temporalities).

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In the case of Lucretius, most references are to books 1 and 15 of met. Philip Hardie (10) looks for the influence of Lucretius’ book 4 on Ovid, especially in the story of Narcissus and Echo in met. 3, about sensory perception and illusion. Hardie gives a very subtle example of an imitation whose mechanisms are reflection and echo. The article by Hoefmans (14) also deals with Lucretius, and refers to the possible influence of De rerum natura in the story of Daedalus and Icarus, since there is literally no ‘metamorphosis’ in this story. Some allude to metaphorical metamorphosis. This, as well as the apparent paradoxes in the treatment of hybris / homo faber motifs, can be explained in the light of clear, textual and thematic allusions to Lucretius: absence of the divinity, the credulity of men, the action of man and progress, his discoveries, his limits, the physical elements of nature, the brevity of life (Lucr. 5.146–7; 6.60–4; 5.184–94; 5.170–3; 5.1379–83; 5.1403–4; 5.1454–6; 6.834–8; 3.894–903). The flight of Daedalus and Icarus means, according to the Epicurean notion of progress, the passage of man from  a state of submission to the gods, towards freedom of mind. Myers (15) situates her discourse in a line from Greek literature: the etiological approach of the met. as an essential characteristic of Ovid’s narrative structure and discourse. She divides ‘the etiological approach’ into two categories: metamorphoses that explain the origins of things in nature (cosmogonics), and metamorphoses that explain the origins of cultural objects (Callimachean). Thus she associates the ancient type of causae with the Roman cosmological epic: Lucretius’ De rerum natura. By dealing with the subject of metamorphosis in a pseudo-scientific way, Ovid is less concerned with the aetia themselves than with the way they function narratologically (12, 17). The poet mythologises Lucretius’ scientific explanations for natural phenomena, but unlike Virgil, Ovid wants to test the interaction between the different narrative modes and the truth claims of fiction (fable) and philosophy, between fantasy and realism. She also addresses the relationship between met. 15, Pythagoras’ discourse, with the tradition of natural philosophy, and especially with Lucretius, through didactic terminology, and the technique of offering multiple explanations for the same phenomenon. On the other hand, Ovid represents Pythagoras as an “anti-Lucretian” bard, who comes to knowledge through divine inspiration, seeking to further amaze his listeners. Myers demonstrates this point by observing that Pythagoras’ discourse is associated with the literary tradition of paradox. Her account of the etiological approach also leads her to link met. and Fasti. Also related to Pythagoras, but starting with Empedocles, Philip Hardie’s article (17) similarly finds the influences of the latter through Ennius and Lucretius. To see the Roman epic tradition as an Empedoclean epos is to highlight the theme of change and process, a convenient means for Ovid to proclaim his own centrality in the tradition of the epic hexameter, carried from Ennius (primitive history of Rome) and Virgil (Augustan history). Both Ennius and Ovid take their history ad mea tempora. Wheeler (18) explains Ovid’s allusions to the cosmogony in De rerum natura, 5.495–501, and specifically to the passage in which Lucretius recapitulates the spatial position of the elements according to their relative weight. It is even possible that

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Lucretius and Virgil had  a double influence on Ovid regarding their position in relation to Nature: for example, regarding power over the winds. Galinsky (24) analyses in depth the 400-plus verses of Pythagoras’ discourse, and accepts the programmatic nature of its appearance in the final book, until which there is no extensive philosophical digression, nor a discourse longer than Ulysses’ in book 13. In Ovid’s time, Pythagorism was presented as a syncretic collection of the teaching of various philosophical schools: mysticism, pseudo-scientific speculation, and religious and spiritual systems. Indeed, if Ovid’s poem is, among other things, an anthology of genres and styles, then Pythagoras’ discourse is an anthology of philo­ sophies. Moreover, since met. was understood in various ways as an alternative to the Aeneid, Galinksy contrasts Ovid’s treatment of philosophy with Virgil’s exploration of the subject. The author includes Pythagorism in Aen. 6, in the Underworld, whereas Ovid carefully omits the topic, despite the fact that Pythagoras and his supposed teachings were a matter of local fascination for the general public. Ovid levels out philosophy to such an extent that it is undifferentiated from generalised, popular ideas. In the catalogue of mirabilia and paradoxa (met. 15.259–452), Ovid simply juxtaposes, rather than opposes, scientific-philosophical and poetic-mythological explanations. For Galinsky, Lucretius’ attitude is more complex: he wants to be an Epicurean and a poet, and being a poet means that he has to use myth, which seems to have been one of the reasons why Epicurus had rejected poetry. Lucretius proceeds to combine these two hitherto irreconcilable elements, and to use myth in a didactic way to illustrate and enhance his own argument. Lucretius then appropriates myth for his own philosophical purposes. The difference with Ovid is clear: for the Sulmonan poet, there is no vera ratio in myth, and serious philosophy is practically non-existent in Pythagorean discourse. See here Torricelli (20) and Miller (82), who, in turn, list Virgilian intertexts in Ovid. Furthermore, just as Lucretius appropriates the language and evocative power of mythology for his own philosophical principles, so Ovid uses Lucretian language of natural philosophy for some of his more fantastical transformations; the reversal is complete. An example is the metamorphosis of Lichas (met. 9.216–25): Ovid proceeds to explain the character’s current petrification as a meteorological phenomenon; the model is Lucretius 6.495–523 and 527–34. The account by Van Schoor (42) is along similar lines: based on the use of philosophical material in the Theban episodes of met. 3 and 4, and on Pythagoras’ speech in met. 15 which we have already mentioned, Van Schoor points out how Ovid plays with irony, images etc. as opposed to the discourse of philosophical truth. The poet’s discourses parody philosophical discussions, using their themes but without seeking any transformation in the audience. Setaioli’s article (25) follows the same theme: in his opinion, Ovid uses philoso­ phical elements for an essentially literary construction. He mentions Lucretius, and although it is not an exhaustive catalogue of passages from Ovid’s debt to the Roman poet-philosopher, the Sulmonan poet assumes the lofty position of revelatory poetry of wisdom. The author thus explains the introduction of motifs of terrifying punishments of the afterlife or the fear of death, from which Lucretius wants to free humanity.

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Lecocq (26) offers a comparative study of the cosmogonies of Lucretius and Ovid in met. 1 and 15, in order to conclude that there is a supplementary metamorphosis: the transformation made by Ovid of Lucretius’ work. In the view of Segal (29), Lucretius and Ovid both see the human condition in a universalising frame. The two poets are concerned with the problem of change and instability. In the face of the laws that govern Lucretius’ universe, change in Ovid’s world is irrational and unpredictable. The connections between the Creation (book 1), Aeacus’ story of the Aeginetan plague (book 7), and book 15 with Lucretius stand out, even if in the form of oppositio in imitando: Ovid surpasses the didactic poetry of Lucretius with the triumph of the eternal over death, as opposed to Lucretius’ world, where nothing is eternal. Ovid shows the world of Augustus, which is heading towards the apotheosis of Augustus himself and the very end of the poem: vivam! Fabre-Serris (30) compares notions of poetics in Ovid and Lucretius. Ovid’s version of the birth of pastoral art reveals a new variant on the history of genres, based on the notion of ars noua. From Ovid’s account (met. 1.708–10), we know that this ars noua seeks to allow a dialogue with the loved one, initiated but interrupted. From a poetic point of view, Ovid places an essential motif of bucolic poetry at the origin of the pastoral song, whose instrument is the panpipe (Pan’s flute): the complaints that a lover addresses, in the forest or at the water’s edge, to their loved one, who does not respond. On the contrary, for Lucretius (book 5) the invention of music is not due to a god, but to men who wanted to imitate the sounds of birds singing, and of Zephyrus rustling the reeds. This way of presenting primitive music (shepherds’ laments modulated with the flute)  has its precise model in literature: pastoral poetry. For the author, Ovid clearly has Lucretius’ text in mind when he recounts how Pan invented the panpipe. But all this could be equally appropriate for another minor literary genre: elegy. In the case of met., in one sense, the final consequences of the Lucretian position develop here: the use of terms like dulcis or mollis aims to suggest bringing elegy closer to the pastoral genre using these two essential motifs, love and lament. As far as DeBrohun (31) is concerned, the representation of two centaurs in love in met. 12.393–428 reveals that Ovid uses allusions to Lucretius 2.700–2; 4.739–44 and 5.878–98, and even his own work (ars 3.133–98) to explore hybridity and the possible combinations of a number of opposing concepts: natura and cultus, human and animal, male and female, love and war, and the contrasting values of lyric-elegiac and epic poetry. Jacobson (32) returns to book 15 to highlight all the passages which, as many have observed, despite the Lucretian influence have a decidedly anti-Lucretian tenor. Ovid is Lucretian (in style and language), yet at the same time anti-Lucretian (in substance). Lucretian style is used to condemn Lucretian content. Nelis (38), on the other hand, reviews the influences assumed by Ovid in his cosmogony, especially met. 1.416–51: apart from Empedocles and Apollonius Rhodius, Lucretius 5.837–44 is also mentioned. Here, the Salmonan poet shows a common use of Empedocles as  a model, especially for zoology. Through  a close intertextual analysis, Nelis reveals Ovid’s debts in a long history of philosophical discussions about metamorphosis, and affirms the particular importance of Empedocles and Lucretius.

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For Ovid, the Empedoclean notions of discordia and concordia not only describe the universe as a whole, but the shift from chaotic discord to creative concord also serves as  a direct reflection of the historical transition from the Roman civil war to the restoration of Augustus. Heerink (41) focuses on another episode of met.: the plague in book 7. In the author’s view, the Ovidian account of the Aeginetan plague in met. 7.523–613 can be seen as the climax of a series of plague descriptions: Lucretius, Vergil and Ovid, met. 7 and the end of georg. 3 and 4. Ovid’s aemulatio consists of  a combination of both Roman models, describing the effects of the plague on animals and humans alike: the part concerning animals (met. 7.536–51) refers mainly to Virgil, and the part about human suffering (552–81) largely to Lucretius. Maria Luisa Delvigo (43) principally relates the myth of Echo and Narcissus (met. 3.339–510) to Lucretius 4, which deals with sensory, optical and acoustic per­ ception. Lucretius had established a close relationship between optics and acoustics, and between image reflection and sound reflection. In this instance Ovid does not exclude the rational-scientific point of view, so that when Narcissus seeks his reflection, the myth follows science (the reflected image is no different from the body); in the case of Echo, there is a contrast between body and voice: the nymph is transformed from body to voice. In this way, Ovid approaches the rationalistic interpretation of the phenomenon and the idea of the voice’s corporeality. The article by Stratenwerth (46) refers to book 1 of met.: he addresses the Myth of the Ages in Hesiod, Lucretius, Virgil and Ovid; similarities and differences in terms of individual topoi; deviations can be understood as a subtle criticism of Augustus. The reference to Lucretius (from Epicurus) is made to convey a completely different view of human evolution. Lastly, from the account of Phaethon’s attempt to emulate his father, Schiesaro (47) suggests that, despite crediting the literary quality of De rerum natura, Ovid also criticises in terms of hybris Lucretius’ rejection of divine authority and agency from the workings of nature. The second part of the article explores how this particular version of the myth touches on issues of poetic authority, political positioning and Oedipal competition. Related to Lucretius in terms of verse technique, Fowler (16) stresses that, apart from narrative and Neoteric hexameters, Lucretius’ didactic verse offers  a third alternative, which expresses a relationship between segmentation and continuum that can also be observed in Ovid’s met. Another author of the republican period to whom Ovid alludes is Cato. Thus Maggiulli (19) relates the episode of met. 8.620–724 with Roman food uses found at Cato.

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b. Virgil 48.  J. D. Ellsworth, “Ovid’s Iliad (Metamorphoses 12.1–13.622)”, Prudentia 12, 1980, 23–9. 49.  M. Labate, “Ulisse, Eurialo e le armi di Achille. Ov. Met. XIII 98 sgg.”, A&R 25, 1980, 28–32. 50.  W. S. M. Nicoll, “Cupid, Apollo, and Daphne (Ovid, Met. 1.  452 ff.)”, CQ 30, 1980, 174–82. 51.  W. Suerbaum, “Die objektiv und subjektiv erzählende Göttin. Bericht Dianas von der Jugend Camillas (Verg. Aen. XI 535–586) und die Erzählung der Venus von Hippomenes und Atalanta (Ovid, met. 10, 560–707)”, WJA 6a, 1980, 139–60. 52.  C. J. Classen, “Liebeskummer; eine Ovidinterpretation (Met. 9, 540–665)”, A&A, 27, 1981, 163–78. 53.  M. Lausberg, “Ein epigrammatisches Motiv in Ovids Metamorphosen”, GB 10, 1981, 181–91. 54.  M. Paschalis, “Evolat”, Dodone 10, 1981, 23–36. 55.  W. S. Anderson, “The Orpheus of Virgil and Ovid: flebile nescio quid”, in J.  Warden (ed.), Orpheus. The Metamorphoses of  a Myth, Toronto-Buffalo-London 1982, 25–50. 56.  G. Davis, The death of Procris. “Amor” and the hunt in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Roma 1983. 57.  A. H. F. Griffin, “Unrequited love. Polyphemus and Galatea in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, G&R 30, 1983, 190–7. 58.  G. Baldo, “Il codice epico nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, MD 16, 1986, 109–31. 59.  J. D. Ellsworth, “Ovid’s “Aeneid” reconsidered (Met. 13.623–14.608)”, Vergilius 32, 1986, 27–32. 60.  P. E. Knox, Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Traditions of Augustan Poetry, Cambridge 1986. Reviews: J. Fabre, REL 65, 1987, 331; W. S. Anderson, AJPh 109, 1988, 457–61; A. A. R. Henderson, CR 38, 1988, 27–8; H. D. Jocelyn, RFIC 116, 1988, 125–6; S. E. Hinds, CPh 84, 1989, 266–71; P. Tordeur, AC 57, 1988, 401; D. F. Kennedy, JRS 79, 1989, 209–10. 61.  M. Kraft, “Die Gestalt der Fama bei Vergil, bei Ovid, in der europäischen Literatur”, AU 29, 1986, 22–39. 62.  C. Neumeister, “Orpheus und Eurydike. Eine Vergil-Parodie Ovids (Ov. Met. X 1-XI 66 und Verg. Georg. IV 457–527)”, WJA 12, 1986, 169–81. 63.  J. D. Ellsworth, “Ovid’s Odyssey, Met. 13, 623–14, 608”, Mnemosyne 41, 1988, 333–40. 64.  F. Graf, “Ovide, les Métamorphoses et la veracité du mythe”, in C. Calame (ed.), Métamorphoses du mythe en Grèce antique, Genève 1988, 57–70.

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65.  J. B. Solodow, The World of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Chapel Hill 1988. Reviews: P. V. Cova, Paideia 44, 1989, 273–5; D. P. Fowler, G&R 36, 1989, 105–7; K. Galinsky, AJPh 110–13, 1989, 515–18; A. Keith, Phoenix 43, 1989, 273–6; S. Lundström, Gnomon 61, 1989, 255–8; D. V. McCaffrey, CW 83, 1989, 69; S. Viarre, RPh 63, 1989, 323–4; F.  Graf, MH 47, 1990, 257; D.  Lateiner, CPh 85, 1990, 232–5; C. Martindale, CompLit 42, 1990, 258–60; W. S. M. Nicoll, CR 40, 1990, 271–2; P.  Frassinetti, Athenaeum 79, 1991, 314–15; K.  McCabe, EMC 36, 1992, 84–9; A. Pérez Vega, M. J. García Navarro, Emerita 60, 1992, 173–6; B. Rochette, LEC 60, 1992, 94–5. 66.  J. B. Solodow, “Persistence of Vergilian memories”, LCM 14, 1989, 119–21. 67.  M. von Albrecht, “Virgilio e le Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in M. Gigante (ed.), Virgilio e gli Augustei, Napoli 1990, 203–19. 68.  B. W. Boyd, “‘Non hortamine longo’: an Ovidian ‘Correction’ of Virgil”, AJPh 111, 1990, 82–5. 69.  M. Dippel, Die Darstellung des trojanischen Krieges in Ovids Metamorphosen (XII,1-XIII,622), Frankfurt am Main-Bern-New York-Paris 1990 (Europäische Hochschulschriften, Reihe XV, 46). Reviews: D. E. Hill, CR 41, 1991 235–6; B. Rochette, LEC 59, 1991, 88; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 65, 1993, 359–60; C. M. Englhofer, GB 21, 1995, 223–5. 70.  P. Hardie, “Ovid’s Theban history: the first «anti-Aeneid»?”, CQ 40, 1990, 224–35. 71.  S. Döpp, “Vergilrezeption in der ovidischen Aeneis”, RhM 134, 1991, 326–47. 72.  G. Maggiulli, “Orfeo fra Virgilio  e Ovidio”, in G.  Papponetti (ed.), Ovidio poeta della memoria. Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi, Sulmona, 19–21 ottobre 1989, Roma 1991, 259–74. 73.  H. Junod, “Barbarus ensis (Mét. XIV, 574) ou les ambiguïtés de l’Énéide ovidienne”, EL 2, 1991, 43–75. 74.  R. Robert, “Ars regenda Amore. Séduction érotique et plaisir esthétique: de Praxitèle à Ovide”, MEFRA 104, 1992, 373–438. 75.  C. Santini, “La morte di Orfeo da Fanocle a Ovidio”, GIF 44, 1992, 173–81. 76.  W. S. Anderson, “The Suppliant’s Voice and Gesture in Vergil and Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, ICS 18, 1993, 165–77. 77.  W. S. Anderson, “Form Changed: Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in A. J. Boyle (ed.), Roman epic, London-New York 1993, 108–24. 78.  M. Helzle, “Ovid’s cosmogony: Metamorphoses 1.5–88 and the traditions of ancient poetry”, in F. Cairns, M. Heath (eds.), PLLS 7 (Roman poetry and prose, Greek rhetoric and poetry), Leeds 1993, 123–34. 79.  G. Tissol, “Ovid’s Little Aeneid and the Thematic Integrity of the Metamorphoses”, Helios 20, 1993, 69–79.

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80.  P. Esposito, La narrazione inverosimile. Aspetti dell’epica ovidiana, Napoli 1994 (Università degli Studi di Salerno. Quaderni del Dipartimento di Scienze dell’Antichità 15). Reviews: N. Scivoletto, GIF 47, 1995, 299–313; F. Zoccali, BStudLat 25, 1995, 226–7; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 70, 1998, 254–6. 81.  M. Hoefmans, “Myth into Reality: the Metamorphosis of Daedalus and Icarus (Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII, 183–235)”, AC 63, 1994, 137–60. 82.  J. F. Miller, “The Memories of Ovid’s Pythagoras”, Mnemosyne 47, 1994, 473–87. 83.  R. A. Smith, “Epic Recall and the finale of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, MH 51, 1994, 45–53. 84.  S. Mack, “Teaching Ovid’s Orpheus to beginners”, CJ 90, 1994–5, 279–85. 85.  M. von Albrecht, “Orfeo en Virgilio y Ovidio”, Myrtia 10, 1995, 17–33. 86.  G. Baldo, Dall’«Eneide» alle «Metamorfosi»: il codice epico di Ovidio, Padova 1995 (Studi testi documenti 7). Reviews: R. Tabacco, BStudLat 26, 1996, 626–9; P. Cutolo, Orpheus 18, 1997, 627–9; C. Franco, Lexis 15, 1997, 270. 87.  B. C. A. Morison, “Two notes on Ovid., Met. XIV, 196 and 211”, Latomus 54, 1995, 106–9. 88.  A. Perutelli, “Il mito di Orfeo tra Virgilio e Ovidio”, Lexis 13, 1995, 199–212 (= Atti del convegno internazionale «Intertestualità: il “ dialogo” fra testi nelle letterature classiche» (Cagliari, 24–26 novembre 1994)). 89.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Due note sul mito di Scilla (in Ovidio  e nella Ciris)”, A&R 40, 1995, 72–7. 90.  G. Rosati, “Form in motion: weaving the text in the Metamorphoses”, in P. Hardie, A. Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian transformations: essays on the Metamorphoses and its reception, Cambridge 1999, 241–53. 91.  S. Casali, “Altre voci nell’Eneide di Ovidio”, MD 35, 1995, 59–76 (= “Other Voices in Ovid’s Aeneid”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Readings in Classical Studies. Ovid, Oxford 2006, 144–65). 92.  J. J. O’Hara, “Vergil’s best reader? Ovidian commentary on Vergilian etymological wordplay”, CJ 91, 1995/96, 255–76. 93.  G. Baldo, “Le Metamorfosi ovvero l’impossibile parodia”, AION(filol) 18, 1996, 7–43. 94.  H. H. Huxley, “Ovid’s debt to Virgil”, Vergilius 42, 1996, 83–102. 95.  O. S. Due, “Ulysses and Aeneas in Ovid”, C&M 48, 1997, 345–58. 96.  J. F. Makowski, “Bisexual Orpheus: pederasty and parody in Ovid”, CJ 92, 1996/97, 25–38. 97.  M. W. Musgrove, “Change of perspective in Ovid, Metamorphoses 12.11–23”, AJPh 118, 1997, 267–83.

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98.  R. A. Smith, Poetic Allusion and Poetic Embrace in Ovid and Virgil, Ann Arbor 1997. Reviews: A. M. Keith, Vergilius 44, 1998, 140–51; Y. Nadeau, BMCR 1998.05.27; S. L. James, BMCR 1999.03.14; D. P. Nelis, JRS 89, 1999, 240–1; B. J. Gibson, CR 50, 2000, 602–3; S. J. Harrison, CW 94, 2001, 197–9. 99.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Du «… si numquam fallit imago» de la deuxième Bucolique au «… sensi nec mea me fallit imago» du livre III des Métamorphoses: poétique et esthétique dans la conception ovidienne de l’image-reflet”, in C. Auvray-Assayas (ed.), Images romaines. Actes de la table ronde organisée à l’Ècole normale supérieure, 24–26 octobre 1996, 221–33, Paris 1998 (Études de littérature ancienne 9). 100.  R. F. Glei, “Der interepische poetologische Diskurs: Zum Verhältnis von Metamorphosen und Aeneis”, in H. L. C. Tristram (ed.), New Methods in the Research of Epic. Neue Methoden der Epenforschung, Tübingen 1998, 85–104. 101.  S. Hinds, Allusion and Intertext: Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Cambridge 1998. Reviews: M. Gale, G&R 46, 1998, 239–40; R. Lyne, TLS 4975, 1998, 30; C. Nappa, BMCR 98.9.8; G. Conte, JRS 89, 1999, 217–20; M. Lowrie, CW 92, 1999, 384–5; P. A. Miller, CPh 94, 1999, 351–5; J. J. O’Hara, CR 49, 1999, 97–8; P. Tordeur, AC 68, 1999, 395; G. Tronchet, REA 101, 1999, 226–8; J. E. G. Zetzel, Phoenix 53, 1999, 171–3; S. Raimondi, Faventia 22, 2000, 165–7; A. Deremetz, Latomus 60, 2001, 783–4; B. Mota, Euphrosyne 30, 2002, 449–50; M. Negri, Athenaeum 90, 2002, 301–3. 102.  M. W. Musgrove, “Chronology and anachrony in Ovid’s story of Scylla (Metamorphoses 13.730–14.74)”, SyllClass 9, 1998, 95–102. 103.  J. T. Dyson, “Myrrha’s catabasis”, CJ 94, 1998/99, 163–7. 104.  B. Pavlock, “Daedalus in the Labyrinth of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, CW 92, 1998/99, 141–57. 105.  T. Baier, “Die Wandlung des epischen Erzählers: Apologe bei Homer, Vergil und Ovid”, Hermes 127, 1999, 437–54. 106.  J. T. Dyson, “Lilies and violence: Lavinia’s blush in the song of Orpheus”, CPh 94, 1999, 281–8. 107.  S. Mack, “Acis and Galatea or Metamorphosis of Tradition”, Arion 6, 1999, 51–67. 56–9: Ovid and Virgil. 108.  C. Segal, “Ovid’s Arcadia and the Characterization of Jupiter in the Metamorphoses”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 401–12. 109.  H. White, “Textual problems in the Ciris”, QUCC 62, 1999, 145–8. 110.  C. Martín Puente, “El episodio virgiliano de Aristeo y las Metamorfosis de Ovidio”, Emerita 68, 2000, 141–8. 111.  P. J. Jones, “Aversion Reversed: Ovid’s Pomona and Her Roman Models”, CW 94, 2000/02, 361–76.

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112.  A. W. Bishop, The Battle Scenes in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Ph. D.  Thesis University of Texas at Austin, 2001. 113.  L. Edmunds, Intertextuality and the Reading of Roman Poetry, Baltimore 2001. Reviews: P.  Hardie, CR 52, 2002, 296–7; D. J. Kuyat, BMCR 2002.08.37; J.  ­Fabre-Serris, Gnomon 75, 2003, 449–51; S. Goldhill, CW 96, 2003, 331–2; P. A. Miller, IJCT 9, 2003, 412–23; C. Martindale, CJ 99, 2004, 95–8; G. De Santis, Ordia prima 4, 2005, 199–203. 114.  F. Létoublon (ed.), Le mythe d’Orphée dans les Métamorphoses d’Ovide, Paris 2001. 115.  S. Papaïoannou, “Ovid, Metamorphoses 15, 418–452: Pythagoras’ Helenus on Epic Grandeur and Epic Succession”, AAntHung 51, 2001, 31–43 116.  M. C. J. Putnam, “Ovid, Virgil and Myrrha’s metamorphic exile”, Vergilius 47, 2001, 171–93. 117.  G. Schade, “Ovids Aeneis”, Hermes 129, 2001, 525–32. 118.  R. F. Thomas, Virgil and the Augustan Reception, Cambridge 2001 (=1999), 55–92. Reviews: C.  Keane, CML 21, 2001, 121–7; S. C. McGill, BMCR 2001.08.23; R. D. Brown, AHB 16, 2002, 191; S. J. Harrison, CR 52, 2002, 292–4; J. Poucet, AC 71, 2002, 321–2; J. A. Rea, CO 79, 2002, 161; C.-M. Ternes, LEC 70, 2002, 305–7; C. Walde, MH 59, 2002, 259; S. N. Byrne, CB 79, 2003, 243–58; K. Galinsky, Arion 10, 2003, 143–69; W. Kissel, Gnomon 75, 2003, 733–5; R. O. A. M. Lyne, Vergilius 49, 2003, 184–9; U. Schmitzer, Gymnasium 110, 2003, 615–18; R. D. Brown, AHB 18, 2004, 179–80; R. Martin, Latomus 64, 2005, 467–8. 119.  M. Fucecchi, “In cerca di una forma: vicende dell’epillio (e di alcuni suoi personaggi) in età augustea. Appunti su Teseo e Orfeo nelle Metamorfosi”, MD 49, 2002, 85–116. 120.  R. González Delgado, El mito de Orfeo y Eurídice en la literatura grecolatina hasta época medieval, Tesis Doctoral Univ. de Oviedo 2002. 121.  P. Hardie, “Why is rumour here?: tracking Virgilian and Ovidian fama”, Ordia prima 1, 2002, 67–80. 122.  A. Keith, “Sources and genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston-Köln 2002, 235–69. 123.  C. Nappa, “Experiens Laborum: Ovid Reads the Georgics”, Vergilius 48, 2002, 71–87. 124.  A. M. Keith, “Ovid on Vergilian War Narrative”, Vergilius 48, 2002, 105–22. 125.  B. W. Boyd, “‘When Ovid Reads Vergil…:’ A Response and Some Observations”, Vergilius 48, 2002, 123–30. 126.  F. Felgentreu, “Ovid weiss es besser: Met. 13, 730 f. und Verg. Aen. 3, 420 f.”, RhM 145, 2002, 305–13.

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127.  G. Tissol, “The House of Fame: Roman History and Augustan Politics in Metamorphoses 11–15”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-BostonKöln 2002, 305–35. 128.  J. Andrae, Vom Kosmos zum Chaos: Ovids Metamorphosen und Vergils Aeneis, Trier 2003. Reviews: R. Lämmle, MH 61, 2004, 245–6; S. Viarre, Latomus 66, 2007, 200–1; W. S. Anderson, Gnomon 77, 2005, 324–8. 129.  S. Casali, “L’errore di Anchise  e altre correzioni ovidiane all’Eneide”, in L. Landolfi, P. Monella (eds.), Ars adeo latet arte sua. Riflessioni sull’ intertestualità ovidiana, Palermo 2003, 81–101. 130.  A. Loupiac, “De Virgile à Ovide: les métamorphoses d’Orphée”, in E. Bury, M. Néraudau (eds.), Lectures d’Ovide publiées à la mémoire de Jean-Pierre Néraudau, Paris 2003, 37–50. 131.  S. Papaïoannou, “Birds, flames and epic closure in Ovid, Metamorphoses 13.600–20 and 14.568–80”, CQ 53, 2003, 620–4. 132.  M. Paschalis, “Names, Semantics and Narrative in Ovid’s Polydorus and Polyxena Episodes and their Intertexts (Euripides’ Hecuba and Virgil’s Aeneid)”, SIFC 1, 2003, 142–59. 133.  Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “La ‘Eneida’ Homérica de Ovidio”, in T. Amado et al. (eds.), Iucundi Acti Labores. Estudios en Homenaje a Dulce Estefanía Álvarez, Santiago de Compostela 2004, 309–18. 134.  C. Klodt, “Der Orpheus-Mythos in der Antike”, in C. Maurer-Zenck (ed.), Der Orpheus Mythos von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, Frankfurt 2004, 37–98 (Hamburger Jahrbuch für Musikwissenschaft 21). 135.  P. Hardie, “Approximative Similes in Ovid. Incest and Doubling”, Dictynna 1, 2004 (http://journals.openedition.org/dictynna/166). 136.  P. Martínez Astorino, “El ‘canto’ de Sileno y el ‘canto’ de Ovidio”, Argos 28, 2004, 19–30. 137.  V. E. Pagán, “Speaking Before Superiors: Orpheus in Vergil and Ovid”, in I. Sluiter, R. M. Rosen (eds.), Free Speech in Classical Antiquity, Boston 2004, 369–90. 138.  A. Deremetz, “L’histoire du genre épique dans les catabases de Virgile, d’Ovide et de Silius Italicus”, in J. P. Schwindt (ed.), La représentation du temps dans la poésie augustéenne. Zur Poetik der Zeit in augusteischer Dichtung, Heidelberg 2005, 111–21. 139.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Histoires d’inceste et de furor dans les Métamorphoses 9 et dans le chant en catalogue d’Orphée: une réponse d’Ovide au livre 4 des Géorgiques”, Dictynna 2, 2005 (http://journals.openedition.org/dictynna/125). 140.  L. M. Fratantuono, “Posse putes: Virgil’s Camilla and Ovid’s Atalanta”, in C. Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin literature and Roman history XII, Bruxelles 2005, 185–93.

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141.  K. Galinsky, “Vergil’s Aeneid and Ovid’s Metamorphoses as world literature”, in K.  Galinsky (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Augustus, Cambridge-New York 2005, 340–58. 142.  H. Jung, “Orpheus-Metamorphosen: Gestaltung und Umgestaltung eines Mythos im 19. und beginnenden 20.  Jahrhundert”, in S. Coelsch-Foisner, M. Schwarz­ bauer (eds.), Metamorphosen. Akten der Tagung der Interdisziplinären Forschungsgruppe Metamorphosen an der Universität Salzburg in Kooperation mit der Universität Mozarteum und der Internationalen Gesellschaft für Polyästhetische Erziehung (Zell an der Pram 2003), Heidelberg 2005, 119–39. 143. S. Papaioannou, Epic succession and dissension: Ovid, Metamorphoses 13.623–14.582, and the reinvention of the Aeneid, Berlin-New York 2005. Reviews: C.  Francese, BMCR 2006.3.11; W. J. Dominik, Latomus 66, 2007, 1024–6; I. Gildenhard, Vergilius 53, 2007, 191–6; G. Tissol, CR 57, 2007, 109–10; J. Wildberger, Gnomon 79, 2007, 753–5. 144.  A. Romeo, “Metamorfosi di una narrazione: l’Orfeo di Ovidio”, AAP 54, 2005, 315–42. 145.  G. Baldo, “Gesto  e personaggio nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in G.  Papponetti (ed.), Ovidio fra Roma  e Tomis. Atti del convegno internazionale di studi (Sulmona 13–15 giugno 2003), Sulmona 2006, 55–75. 146.  P. Hardie, “Virgil’s Ptolemaic relations”, JRS 96, 2006, 25–41. 147.  J.-C. Jolivet, “Nec quicquam antiquum Pico nisi nomina restat: Picus, ses statues et ses temples, dans l’Énéide et les Métamorphoses”, in J. Champeaux, M. Chassignet (eds.), «Aere perennius». En hommage à Hubert Zehnacker, Paris 2006, 489–502. 148.  B. Simons, “Orpheus bei Vergil und Ovid”, AU 49, 2006, 36–44. 149.  Z. Acél, “Der Orpheus des «Epitaphios Bionos» in den Werken von Vergil und Ovid”, AantHung 47, 2007, 349–68. 150.  A. Romeo, “Progymnasmata Ovidiana: per una lettura tematica dei canti di Orfeo nelle Metamorfosi”, AAP 56, 2007, 393–414. 151.  S. Casali, “Correcting Aeneas’s Voyage: Ovid’s Commentary on Aeneid 3”, TAPhA 137, 2007, 181–210. 152.  M. Fernandelli, “Miti, miti in miniatura, miti senza racconto. Note a quattro epilli (Mosch. Eur. 58–62, Catull. 64, 89–90, Verg. georg. IV 507–515, Ou. met. XI 751–795)”, CentoPagine 2, 2008, 12–27. 153.  R. González Delgado, El mito de Orfeo y Eurídice en la Antigüedad. Mito y Literatura, Madrid 2008. Reviews: M. M. González González, Minerva 22, 2009, 244–6; A. M. Otero de Martínez, Argos 32, 2009, 223–4; M. L. Resende, Euphrosyne 39, 2011, 451; A. Zapata, Emerita 79, 2011, 433–4. 154.  T. A. Joseph, “The metamorphoses of tanta moles: Ovid, Met. 15.765 and Tacitus, Ann. 1.11.1”, Vergilius 54, 2008, 24–36.

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155.  D. Lowe, “Personification allegory in the Aeneid and Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, Mnemosyne 61, 2008, 414–35. 156.  M. Vielberg, “Omnia mutantur, nihil interit? Vergils Katabasis und die Jenseitsvorstellungen in Ovids Metamorphosen”, in V. M. Strocka, R. von Haehling, S. Freund, M.  Vielberg (eds.), Vergil und das antike Epos. Festschrift Hans Jürgen Tschiedel, Stuttgart 2008, 321–37. 157.  Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “La odiseica Eneida de las Metamorfosis”, CFC(L) 29, 2009, 5–23. 158.  S. Casali, “Ovidian Intertextuality”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Malden, Ma-Oxford 2009, 341–54. 159.  D. Creese, “Erogenous organs: the metamorphosis of Polyphemus’ syrinx in Ovid, Metamorphoses 13.784”, CQ 59, 2009, 562–77. 160.  P. Hardie, “The word personified: fame and envy in Virgil, Ovid, Spenser”, MD 61, 2009, 100–15. 161.  R. F. Thomas, “Ovid’s Reception of Virgil”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Malden, Ma-Oxford 2009, 294–307. 162.  A. Barchiesi, P. Hardie, “The Ovidian Career Model: Ovid, Gallus, Apuleius, Boccacio”, in P. Hardie, H. Moore (eds.), Classical Literary Careers and their Reception, Cambridge 2010, 59–88. 163. C. Battistella, “Un modello epico per il primo amore di Apollo (Ov. Met. 1.441–567 e Verg. Aen. 9.590–663)”, Vergilius 56, 2010, 19–25. 164.  C. Krause, “Die Metamorphose des Polyphem oder Wie viele Wiederholungen verträgt eine Erzählung?: zur Achaemenidesepisode in Ovids Metamorphosen”, Gymnasium 117, 2010, 7–32. 165.  S. E. Lake, Literary parody in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Fordham Diss. 2010. 166.  Y. Nadeau, “Naulochus and Actium, the Fleets of Paris and Aeneas, and the Tree-felling of C. Iulius Caesar Erysichthon”, in C. Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin literature and Roman history XV, Bruxelles 2010, 219–39 (Collection Latomus 323). 167.  P. Emberger, “Iuuenis quondam, nunc femina: zur Kainis-Erzählung im augusteischen Epos (Ov. Met. 8,305; 12,169–209. 459–535; Verg. Aen. 6,448–449)”, GB 28, 2011, 44–59. 168.  F. Bessone, “Medea e la Sibilla: metafore, allusività, prefigurazione in Ovidio, Metamorfosi 7, 17–21”, RFIC 140, 2012, 360–75. 169.  U. Eigler, “The tenth book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses as Orpheus’ epyllion”, in M. Baumbach, S. Bär (eds.), Brill’s Companion to Greek and Latin Epyllion and Its Reception, Leiden-Boston 2012, 355–68. 170.  L. Fulkerson, “Pastoral appropriation and assimilation in Ovid’s Apollo and Daphne episode”, TiC 4, 2012, 29–47. 171.  B. Gladhill, “Gods, Caesars and fate in Aeneid 1 and Metamorphoses 15”, Dictynna 9, 2012 (http://journals.openedition.org/dictynna/820).

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172.  P. Hardie, Rumour and Renown: Representations of Fama in Western Literature, Cambridge 2012. Reviews: A. Augoustakis, BMCR 2013.02.13; N. Holzberg, CW 107, 2014, 281–2; D. Quint, Mnemosyne 67, 2014, 1032–4; G. D. Williams, JRS 104, 2014, 339–40. 173.  H. Jung, “Mythos Orpheus: Stationen von Wandel und Übergang”, Symbolon 18, 2012, 121–34. 174.  F. Klein, “Tradition épique et modèles hellénistiques dans le livre XIV des Métamorphoses: Ovide, le prologue des Aitia et ses (ré-)interprétations romaines”, REL 90, 2012, 203–20. 175. M. Labate, “Polifemo in Ovidio: il difficile cammino della civiltà”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 229–45. 176.  S. McCarter, “The Forging of  a God: Venus, the Shield of Aeneas, and Callimachus’s Hymn to Artemis”, TAPhA 142, 2012, 355–81. 177.  A. Romeo, Orfeo in Ovidio: la creazione di un nuovo epos, Soveria Mannelli 2012 (Studi di filologia antica e moderna 25). Reviews: S. Redaelli, AFB 3, 2013, 111–14; R. A. Smith, BMCR 2013.10.25; A. Prenner, BStudLat 44, 2014, 732–3; D. Puliga, Rhetorica 34, 2016, 219–20. 178.  J. L. Vidal Pérez, “Las Metamorfosis de Ovidio: la manera irónica de la épica augustea”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 127–39. 179.  M. E. Cairo, “El diálogo entre Júpiter y Venus en Met. 15.807–842: una lectura del fatum virgiliano”, Minerva 26, 2013, 163–79. 180.  N. Holzberg, “Ovid: Textspektrum, Interpretationsaspekte, Fortwirken”, AU 56, 2013, 1–11. 181.  M. Janka, “Dreiecksbeziehungen zwischen Texten: Vergils komplexe Odysseerezeption als Scharnier zwischen Homer und Ovid. Innovation aus Tradition”, in M. Baumbach, W. Polleichtner (eds.), Innovation aus Tradition. Literaturwissenschaftliche Perspektiven der Vergilforschung, Trier 2013, 59–95 (Bochumer Altertumswissenschaftliches Colloquium 93). 182.  R. M. Lucifora, “Aristeo, un Enea ante litteram?: «pastori» per aspera ad astra”, Kleos 24, 2013, 217–39. 183.  M. von Albrecht, “Orpheus bei Vergil und Ovid: der Dichter als Liebender”, Gymnasium 121, 2014, 535–54. 184.  A. Río Torres-Murciano, “Mauors in lingua: hombres de acción y hombres de palabras en la épica romana”, CFC(L) 34, 2014, 195–223. It is not easy to organise such heterogeneous material. In order to examine Virgil’s influence in met. we will analyse the bibliographic contributions according to themes and works, to some extent from larger to smaller, from the most generic to the most

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detailed; examining Virgil’s works as a whole, and considered individually, longer and shorter episodes etc. Galinsky (141) places both met. and the Aeneid on the universal literary scene: both stand out among Augustan poetry. They have evolved into world literature, capable of being evoked in subsequent literary, artistic and musical productions. As with all pieces of world literature, these poems, although products of their own culture and specific time, are capable of transcending their contexts. Galinsky includes a specific generic comparison between the attitudes of both poets. Also covering a broad spectrum is Andrae’s contribution (128). The author tries to make a painstaking exploration of Virgil and Ovid’s troubled relationship. In met., Ovid repeatedly confronts the Aeneid’s text and themes: this confrontation has been responded to in various ways, since Ovid constantly takes it upon himself to remind us of his predecessor. In short, Andrae tries to analyse Ovid’s reading of Virgil, yet the differences between the two works seem obvious from the start: Virgil’s poem exalts ‘Augustan Kosmos’, and from that ideal order Ovid plunges his poem into the opposite extreme, Chaos, thereby openly challenging Virgil. The chapter by Barchiesi and Hardie (162) is extremely thorough, reviewing Ovid’s entire literary career, shadowed by Virgil’s constant presence. Whether through affinity or denial, the Virgilian model is always present, and Ovid’s literary output is the first episode in the long history of the reception of Virgil’s oeuvre. The authors confront the different poetics of the two bards: one grows up under the protection of Augustus, while the other is  a poet whose invention and humour are fed by  a detachment from Augustus’ political objectives, and who does not forget in formal terms that he is an elegiac poet. In an erudite contribution, Barbara W.  Boyd (125) presents three propositions for the study of the relationship between Virgil and Ovid: a) Ovid was influenced by Virgil; b)  the legacy of that influence (topics, themes, diction, versification) is determined to some extent by how Ovid reads Virgil; and c) we have much to learn from Virgil and Ovid’s poetry by juxtaposing their works and trying to make sense of their intertextual relationships. Her article summarises, and adds previous positions on, Nisus and Euryalus, the exile of Aeneas and the exile of Ovid etc. One of the most frequent topics is the analysis of the history of the Trojan War and its consequences, including Aeneas’ trip to Italy and the influence that Virgil could have had on Ovid. The first work in this area is that of Ellsworth (48). While acknowledging Aeneid as a source, the article focuses on the Iliad, as well as other authors such as Euripides, highlighting the difficulties in linking the mythological with the ‘historical’. Ellsworth (59) later returns to the subject of the so-called ‘Ovid’s Aeneid’. He tries to justify the presence of the stories of Galatea / Acis / Polyphemus, Scylla / Glaucus / Circe, and Picus / Canens / Circe, arguing that they are more integrated into the narrative than has usually been the case. Galatea / Acis / Polyphemus has more to do with Ulysses than with Aeneas, but also with the latter through Achaemenides (Aen. 3.618–38); Scylla / Glaucus / Circe are linked (thematic affinity) with the episode of Dido and Aeneas; Picus / Canens / Circe is an expansion of elements and characters present in the Aeneid. Ellsworth stresses (63) these arguments

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again, although with more interest in Homer. Von Albrecht (67) also deals with this topic, infra. Dippel (69) dedicates an entire monograph to the subject, discussing how Ovid addresses the Trojan War in met. The poet takes a critical view of the notions of ‘war’ and ‘heroism’, not only in Homer’s Iliad, but also in the recently published Aeneid by Virgil. Ovid deflates the epic content of the Trojan War and challenges the values supported by tradition (Homer and Virgil). For his study, Dippel follows the model of Otis (Ovid as an Epic Poet, Cambridge 1966, 84–5). The author sees a deliberate policy of taking war out of the realm of history and placing it within myth. He concludes that Ovid reacts against his predecessors (Homer and Virgil), in that Ovid was not sympathetic to many of the earlier traditions: Ovid as a representative of art pour l’art. Siegmar Döpp (71) also addresses how in met. 13.399–14.608 Ovid, unlike Virgil, emphasises what can be linked to basic human life situations. His reception of Virgil oscillates between jocular and serious, mocking distance and inner sympathy. Ovid introduces a kaleidoscope of individual destinies into his myths, as opposed to Virgil, who characterises the course of Roman national history under the idea of ending the civil war. The met.’s author sees in epic poetry the appropriate means to represent the multiplicity of psychic processes that were revealed in the stories of transformation, as historically significant res gestae. Junod (73) considers that Ovid rewrites the Aeneid to be inserted into his carmen perpetuum, the basis for other stories, with an Aeneas who has lost all heroic value, yet who continues to serve as an example of Augustus’ moral courage. Turnus perishes not subject to the blows of Aeneas, but rather as the victim of anonymous violence, a ‘barbarian sword’. The so-called ‘little Aeneid’ of met. is also the subject of Garth Tissol (79), mainly based on the prophetic books 3 and 6. For Tissol, Ovid subsumes his plot and characters to illustrate the universal prevalence of turning into his own poem. Esposito (80) dedicates the first chapter of his monograph to Achaemenides in Virgil and Ovid, proposing it as an unequivocal example of intertextual play. Virgil’s narrative in book 3 of of the Aeneid is, undoubtedly, the model for Ovid in met. 14: this relation is clearly reflected in a series of deliberate verbal allusions. He dedicates a large part of this chapter to the ‘unmasking’ of epic conventions, suggesting an analysis of met. 14.205–9 as a structure which goes beyond Virgil and looks at the Odyssey. In his fourth chapter, Stephen Hinds (101) considers Ovid’s account of the Aeneid story in met. 13 and 14. Usually scholars have seen the poet’s deviations and modifications from Virgil’s tale as tacit recognition of the latter’s superiority. But Ovid expands on Virgil’s minor episodes to avoid comparisons with his predecessor. However, according to Hinds, Ovid also makes the changes in order to reveal an ‘Ovidian’ story in the Aeneid, in that the previous reference is used for his own purposes. We also see the subject of the Ovidian Aeneid in Baier (105), above all with an interpretation of met. 14.154–4. The author makes clear how, in terms of narrative technique and content, Ovid remains within the boundaries of Homer and Virgil. However, the poet transforms the authoritarian narrative behaviour of Ulysses in Book 10 of the Odyssey into the more personal narrative behaviour of Macareus and

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Achaemenides in Ovid, making his conduct anything but heroic compared to the Aeneid (Macareus and Picus). In addition, Schade (117) addresses the topic of Ovid’s Aeneid. He points out the possible intertextuality between met. and the Aeneid in the respective representation of Achaemenides (Aen. 3) and in book 14 of met. The author emphasises that Ovid’s set of books would not exist without the Aeneid. Thomas (118) also addresses the theme of the Aeneid and Virgil’s presence in Ovid, not only in met. but also in Tristia. Thomas contends that certain allusions in her. 7 and in met. 14 diverge from the character of Aeneas and defend some of his victims. It would be impossible for readers not to remember the Aeneid in Ovid’s ‘littel Aeneid’, but the poet’s intertextuality does not focus on repeating what is already in Virgil’s text. Neither Dido nor Turnus pronounce a word in Ovid, not because of the brevity of the story, but because the narrator of met. speaks for both of them, and participates in the point of view of both. The Ovidian narrator affirms the position of Virgil, and of the Virgilian Turnus and Juno, subverting Aeneas, but not the Aeneid. He concludes that Ovid draws attention to ambiguous aspects of Virgil’s poem by compromising its ideology. He highlights the difficulty of writing about Aeneas after the Aeneid’s publication without the reader seeing the relationship between the two, and without seeing a certain degree of compromise between the two texts. He returns to the subject with more examples in (161). One of the most comprehensive studies into the presence of, and confrontation with, Virgil in the topic of Aeneas is that of Papaioannou (143). For the author, the part of met. that deals with the adventures of Aeneas naturally invites comparison with Virgil’s Aeneid. Modern critics have often discussed the texts side by side: a) some see Ovid as deliberately avoiding direct competition with the already canonical treatment; b) others see a more controversial rewriting of Virgil’s text in terms that are not heroic, but Hellenistic or Neoteric; c) others see Ovid as essentially playful and parodic, with a glint of anti-Augustan malice in his eyes. Papaioannou breaks away from Stephen Hinds (23) by arguing that Ovid tries to incorporate and replace the model. The poet is presenting Virgil as a hesitant precursor to met., and this author’s book is about the implications of such an observation. She evaluates the structure and theme of each episode in the group, and tracks the recurrence of prominent motifs throughout met. Ovid, according to the author, is trying to take over Virgil’s ‘epic throne’. The author studies the Virgilian implications of the myth of Orion’s daughters (met. 13.681–99), comparing Virgil’s Sibyll figure with Ovid’s, more humanized than supernatural. Papaioannou approaches the episode of Achaemenides (met. 14.154–222) as Ovid’s commentary on how Virgil reads Homer, arguing that the story of Macareus (met. 14.223–440) addresses Ovid’s major concern with establishing himself as Virgil’s direct epic successor. She also compares the metamorphoses of Diomedes’ men into swans (Aen. 11.271–4) to met. 14.484–509, and addresses Ovid’s (met. 14.527–65) reworking of the metamorphosis of the Trojan fleet in the Aeneid (9.77–122). By the same author, but a few years earlier (131), is Papaioannou’s study about epic closure in met. In his ‘little Aeneid’, Ovid replicates Virgilian motives, combined

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with sources also coming from Virgil. For the author, this reinforces the unity of met. 12.1–14.580, from whence she highlights the importance of thematic repetition to achieve fluid narrative progression in Ovid’s epic. Álvarez and Iglesias (133 and 157) analyse the intertextual relationship that Ovid establishes with Virgil based on the three composition techniques used by the met.’s author, according to G. K. Galinsky. They highlight the third one, that is two forms of amplification: the addition of passages absent in the Aeneid, coming from other sources; and the inclusion of Ovid’s original episodes. This technique is the most important, because Ovid, a reader of Homer, also uses Virgil’s reading of the Odyssey; it is especially exemplified in the two love triangles starring Circe. In this way, using both his own and Virgil’s reading, Ovid creates an original composition. Also remarkable is how, for both authors, Machareus is an ‘Ovid’ freed from the Greek model and with the capacity for invention. He creates a narrator, the servant of Circe, thus becoming the creator of someone who is, in turn, able to create; that is, his text suggests the mimesis of his own narrative. As for Galinsky’s three techniques, the reductions show most clearly that Ovid does not want to compete with Virgil, and therefore omit descriptions with clearly epic roots. Finally, the idea of complementarity predominates in the episodes with no thematic precedent in Virgil. In his article, Klein (174) studies the influence of the Aitia of Callimachus, especially the prologue, and its adaptation in Latin literature. Specifically, his mention of βαζιλ[η and ἥρωας in Call., Aitia fr. 1, 1–6 Pf., expresses the themes that Callimachus would have refused to write about. This is how Virgil imitates Callimachus in ecl. 6, and then in Aen. 8.41–4, saying the opposite using the same words. Ovid in turn, in met. 14, takes up these same topics, but in an even more similar way to Callimachus. Klein views it as a progressive deconstruction of epic components: for example, the appearance of Macareus, defined as a hero who demands to halt the weariness caused by the taedia longa laborum, a motif (labores) that is typical of traditional epic; and the horrida bella that Virgil prepares to write about in book 7 of Aen., which in Ovid evolve into arma negata (met. 14.527–8), etc. Another of the great themes in the Virgil-Ovid comparison, besides the Trojan War, is the appearance of Orpheus. Some study this topic in ancient literature in general terms, others through details in the development of the story. Létoublon’s work (114) is more general:  a collection of articles that go beyond the title of the works, as they do not focus only on Ovid and met. His book’s aim, if not informative, is to make the work accessible to a wider public, with somewhat generalised content: “1. Le personnage d’Orphée: un mythe sans substance? 2. Orphée avant Ovide 3. Orphée dans la composition des Métamorphoses. 4. Les thèmes centraux du mythe d’Orphée.” This is also the case, for example, with Klodt (134), who provides an overview of classical literature, including Virgil and Ovid. Anderson (55) focuses on Ovid’s parodic means of treating the myth of Orpheus versus Virgil’s rhetorical approach. He presents the innovations of the myth in Virgil (his relationship with Aristaeus, the attempted rape and the snake, the cause of Eurydice’s death), in a tragic vision that brings him closer to Dido and Turnus. In parallel columns he expresses the different objectives of both, concluding that

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Ovid transforms Virgil’s dramatic failure into a character more appropriate to such a different poem: a melodramatic bard. In this ironic treatment, Orpheus fails both as a poet and as a lover (Makowski describes him as “consistently sceptical”, 96, 25 n. 1). The article by Neumeister (62) also examines this subject; he makes another comparison between Virgil and Ovid, to further emphasise the pity / irony opposition of both. The episode of Orpheus (met. 10.1–11.66) is seen as a parody of Verg. georg. 4.457–527: an Ovid who distances himself from Virgil and the values of Augustus. The set of these previous positions was brought together by Maggiulli (72). Mack (84) qualifies Ovid’s use of the story of Orpheus and Eurydice (met. 10 and 11) as a humorous way of playing with the Virgilian text (georg. 4.453–527). Michael von Albrecht (67) reviews with precision the usual places in georg. 4, Orpheus, and Ovid’s Aeneid, and the transformation of the ships into nymphs in Aen. 9. The author demonstrates how Ovid wants to create his own new text, rather than adapt that of Virgil. Different types of poetics lead Ovid towards other models for narrative art: Homer and Apollonius, and to a lesser extent Virgil, with whom he maintains a high-level distance dialogue, as a challenge rather than as a model. For this reason Ovid, as an elegiac poet, abandons gravitas and persists in projecting human feelings onto the epic tale, especially amorous sentiments. Von Albrecht (85) also carries out a general analysis of the Orpheus character’s depiction in Georgics and met., based on two publications. The first is Eduard Norden, “Orpheus und Eurydice. Ein nachträgliches Gedenkblatt für Virgil” (Sitzungsberichte der Preußischen Aka­ demie der Wissenschaften, philosophisch-historische Klasse 22, 1934, 626–83), which places a lower worth on Orpheus in Ovid. In the second, Charles Segal, Orpheus. The Myth of the Poet (Baltimore-London 1989), the characterisation of Orpheus’ history is presented as ‘the myth of the poet’. The idea that Ovid’s pentads culminate in death is stressed: Arachne in 5, Orpheus in 10, Ovid and his death / immortality in 15, hence the author concludes that the theme of ‘Orpheus’ success and failure’ is thematised from the start. Moreover, the author shows that the traditionally lower value of the Ovidian tale, as opposed to the Virgilian, can be raised with a detailed reflection of the different premises and objectives of each poet. Santini (75) analyses the differences between the story of Orpheus in Virgil and in Ovid. Some divergences can be explained by the interdependent relation between Ovid and Phanocles, or even between Ovid and another currently lost poem. For example, the Virgilian Orpheus tells his own love story, while the Ovidian one sings about the loves of the gods, about amor puerorum. The author justifies the presence of amor puerorum as being due to structural requirements, in order to determine the framework of a catalogue of παιδικά, or perhaps as an allusive and parodic reference to Orphic doctrine, which pursues chastity. Perutelli (88) also emphasises the theme of Orpheus, and his presence in Virgil and Ovid. He compares the circular form of Virgil’s narrative structure in book 4 of georg. with Ovid’s very different approach in met. 10 and 11. The latter respects above all the continuity of the story and favours the pleasure of telling, leaving aside the tragic tone. Makowski (96) explains how Ovid exploits his Virgilian model (georg. 4) for parody and comic effect in met. 10. Pointing out that Orpheus’ bisexuality is a motif

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that underlies much of the diction, imagery and use of literary reminiscence, the author considers the narration from met. 9.666 to 11.66 as the homoerotic or bisexual sequence of met. Ovid’s purpose in plundering his Virgilian origin in search of parodic effect and humour is to undermine the characterisation of Virgil’s Orpheus by satirising him as effeminate, since his antecedent’s homosexual vision is very slight. That which Virgil hides Ovid makes explicit, but he treats everything with such elaboration that the reader is either amused or embarrassed. Ovid sustains his intertextual game with Virgil to the end, maintaining his parody until the very moment of Orpheus’ death, which brings out a very fulgurating Virgilian apostrophe (met. 11.44–7, cf. georg. 4.465–7, repetition of te). In addition, Dyson (106) addresses the subject of Orpheus. Lavinia blushes in Aen. 12.64–71, an act specified with  a simile that combines erotic and violent motifs. This is adapted by Ovid in the song of Orpheus (met. 10.147–739), where it serves as  a defining and unifying motif for other cases (Atalanta-Hippomenes 560–704; Hyacinthus 160–219; Adonis 708–39), as well as in other parts of the poem (e.g. Pygmalion met. 3.292–4; Narcissus 3.418–24 and 480–5; Persephone 5.398– 401). Following on from Catherine C. Rhorer (“Red and White in Ovid’s Metamorphoses: The Mulberry Tree in the Tale of Pyramus and Thisbe”, Ramus 9, 1980, 79–88), Dyson highlights Ovid’s constant preoccupation with the confrontation between innocence (white) and passion (red). Georgics also appears as a point of comparison with met. in other cases, not only relating to Orpheus. Jones (111) focuses on analysing Latin sources, especially Verg. georg. and Livy’s account of the rape of the Sabine women. The description of Pomona’s activities (pruning, grafting, irrigation) is based on georg.; in the Virgilian text, the lexicon suggests violence, and has military overtones. The story of Vertumnus and Pomona substitutes the rape of the Sabines in Ovid’s series of legends about Rome. Livy’s account  assists in evaluating the tone of conclusion of the PomonaVertumnus episode. Fucecchi (119) presents the theme of Orpheus (and Theseus) from the point of view of the epyllion: Ovid reworks all the known texts within this classification, by modifying their literary structure and sometimes their characters’ personalities. It becomes evident that Ovid’s Theseus is based on Catullus, among others, and his Orpheus on Virgil. The parallel but contrasting relationship between Aristaeus and Orpheus in Virgil’s work converts, in met. (in the absence of Aristaeus), into a relationship that allows Orpheus to free himself from the label of lover condemned to unhappiness. He highlights the way in which Ovid ‘corrects’ the structure of Virgil’s story: a) the main narrator, and not Proteus (who is present in book 11, but not in the story of Orpheus), relates the myth of the singer; b) this myth is now a frame and not an insert, containing a group of unhappy love stories; c) Aristaeus is not named by Ovid, so Eurydice’s death is only  a legendary motif, which does not receive  a pathetic expansion or reverse the story told with moral meaning. The second part of González Delgado (120)’s Ph. D. thesis, which covers a broad spectrum, is dedicated to Latin literature from its beginnings (pp. 207–65), to Virgil, Ovid and Seneca; the latter two basically follow Virgil’s version. The author offers an

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intertextual analysis of the Latin versions, especially of the infernal torments. The popular elements of the myth are analysed: the male opponent, the snake and death, the imposition of a test, the looking back, the failure of the hero, a new ending, the death of the hero, etc. The author is more interested in the development of the myth over time. The thesis appears later as a book (153). Not only focused on Orpheus, Nappa (123) presents an examination of how Ovid reads two passages from georg. (Deucalion, Orpheus and Eurydice). Ovid’s use sheds light both on questions of interpretation of Virgil’s epic, and on how the poet positions himself in relation to his predecessors. Ovid does not respect the limits of genre; in Nappa’s analysis, the poet is freed from the old burdens of imitation and inferiority, and allows us to see the intertextual relationship between the works of these two poets as dynamic. Another article looking at this topic is by Loupiac (130): he interprets, not exhaustively, the appearance of Orpheus as  a mere anti-Augustan-type of hidden political code. The chapter by Pagán (137) is also about Orpheus. She argues that the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, preoccupied with voice, song and poetry, is an embodiment of the dangers one faces when speaking before superiors: the speaker must adjust his language appropriately to suit the circumstances, and his manner of speaking is influenced by the unequal power relationship between the speaker and the recipient. The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice provides an opportunity to explore these issues, even in terms of freedom of expression. The stories at the end of georg. and the beginning of met. 10 are fundamentally similar, except for one bold difference: Ovid includes Orpheus’ plea to the gods of the Underworld (met. 10.17–39), and takes the myth one step further, questioning the poet’s position vis-à-vis his superiors and the way that position is articulated. We see in met. 10.17–39 how Ovid makes tangible the problem faced by any poet: how to speak before superiors. The general effect of this speech leads Pagán to speculate that Ovid has something more in mind than mere scholarly commitment: we can hear Ovid’s voice behind that of Orpheus; in other words, the poet is the medium for those who cannot express themselves. Another way of evaluating the differences between Virgilian Orpheus and Ovid’s character is Fabre-Serris’ suggestion (139). In book 4 of georg. Virgil, who conceives the figure of Orpheus as referencing the elegiac poet Gallus, proposes observing how the harmful effects of passion are illustrated in the Thracian musician’s loves and poetry. Virgil especially focuses on the antagonism between pietas and furor; the latter word was pronounced by Eurydice herself (georg. 4.494). Furthermore, the author’s intention is to challenge the choice made by Latin elegiac poets to put love at the forefront of their lives and their poetic practice. Ovid, in his catalogue of Orpheus (met. 10), responds to this questioning of Gallus’ poetics by drawing up a complex narrative set in which the different treatments of incest lead to  a re-evaluation of the pietas / furor opposition. According to Fabre-Serris, the Ovidian version of the Orpheus story is a response, at various points, to that of Virgil. Unlike his predecessor, Ovid offers two examples of Orpheus’ songs. The first one, aimed at the infernal deities, is argumen­tative: for Orpheus, it is about convincing ‘telling the truth’ (vera

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loqui, met. 10.20). The second responds to a programme outlined from the first verses: the choice to sing about love, from two different perspectives. On the one hand, evoking the children beloved of the gods – pueros… dilectos superis, met. 10.152–3; on the other hand, to evoke the girls who have succumbed to forbidden passions and who have been punished – inconcesisque puellas / ignibus attonitas meruisse libidine poenam, met. 10.153–4. Between these two songs is the episode of Eurydice’s second death. The reaction attributed to the latter, at the moment when her husband turns around, clearly indicates the desire to oppose Virgil’s interpretation: the Eurydice of met. has no words of reproach for her lover (met. 10.60–1). The peculiarity of Orpheus’ song, according to Fabre-Serris, serves to defend the art of poetry. The grouping into catalogues generally invites one to read the stories together, but the way they are told changes everything. However, this implies a new evaluation of the relationship between furor and pietas, of which georg. has highlighted the irreconcilable antagonism. According to Virgil, love is the reason for behaviour dominated by furor. The stories collected by Orpheus do not dispute this conception of amor-furor that goes back to Gallus, but they do question all too negative a judgment on the resulting behaviour. Romeo’s contribution (144) treats the figure of Orpheus in met. books 10 and 11 as a renewal of the Virgilian model, in response to changing public tastes. Later on (150) she returns to the subject by presenting an analysis of Ovid’s treatment of the Orpheus motif and the chants attributed to it. The author concludes that the alleviation granted by these songs, and the presentation of their contents in met., is Ovidian inventio. Lastly, Romeo dedicates an entire monograph to this topic (177). She considers Orpheus in the met. as a touchstone for the creation not only of a new epic, but also of a new epic fashion subsequent to Virgil. She is keen to distinguish met.’s Orpheus from that of Virgil and his antecedents, and views Ovid’s adaptation of Virgil as a departure from his predecessor. Simons’ chapter (148) analyses the episode of Orpheus generically and shows  a comparison between Virgil, the great classical poet of the Augustus period, and Ovid, a poet who continues the tradition but is associated with the Alexandrian ideal of a poeta doctus. Although he suggests the dependence of Ovid’s Orpheus on Virgil’s georg. as something already known, in terms of narrative structure and use of vocabulary, the article by Acél (149) points out that Ovid also depends on many elements scattered throughout the Eclogues. However, the author’s main interest is to demonstrate the dependence of both on the Epitaphios Bionos. The article by Fernandelli (152), while focused on tracing the development of the epyllion in Moschus, Catullus, Virgil and Ovid, is about Ovid’s rewriting of the Aristaeus epyllion: how he disaggregates the original structure, and how he completes the untreated or neglected passages of the myth in georg. The chapter by Jung (142) is separate from the connections explained above. Rather than comparing the two, he starts by studying how myth has been shaped and transformed in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Jung returns to the same theme in (173) to note that the person and destiny of Orpheus, in relation to Eurydice, is set

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only a few decades before the Christian era in Virgil and Ovid. The author is more interested in the role of Orpheus and the Orphics in history. Especially on pp. 359–63, Eigler (169) compares Ovidian compositional technique with Virgil’s art, using  a metapoetically emblematic example. In the latter, the Orpheus story is part of the frame of Aristaeus’ tale. In Ovid’s version, the Orpheus story constitutes an entire section on its own within the main narrative. In  a well-documented article, von Albrecht (183) also deals with the subject of Orpheus. He starts from the veneration of Orpheus in Greek antiquity, his appearance in Apollonius Rhodius, and then in Virgil, and in Ovid’s met. In the poem, the myth of Orpheus occupies an important position, with Ovid establishing other poetic and anthropological accents, distinct from Virgil. Von Albrecht studies the intentions of both poets and their respective interpretations of the figure of Orpheus and his fate; the generalised depreciation of Ovid’s presentation with respect to Virgil; and the literary techniques Ovid uses in his story. As for other mythological developments and other characters, different examples can also be cited. McCarter (176) addresses the study of Aeneas and Venus, influenced by Calli­ machus’ hymn to Artemis. This provides an intertext for following the development of both in Virgil’s Aeneid and Ovid’s met., the latter being the fulfilment of Jupiter’s promises that will lead to the deification of Aeneas (met. 14.584–91). Once again Ovid accomplishes his poetic strategy of including what Virgil leaves out. The article by Nicoll (50) starts from the story of Apollo and Daphne within the context of the poem’s opening, and emphasises that the outset is structurally reminiscent of the Aeneid, and as  a recusatio comparable to the beginning of am. Fulkerson (170), however, deals with the Apollo and Daphne tale from the point of view of the genres involved. A story of epic and elegiac elements, as well as bucolic, in this sense the episode has a special relationship with Virgil’s tenth eclogue, which in turn is a precursor to the blending of different genres, as practised in the end by Ovid. Suerbaum (51) compares Diana’s tales about Camilla (Verg. Aen. 11.535–86) and Venus’ accounts of Hippomenes and Atalanta (Ovid, met. 10.560–707), from the point of view of objectivity / subjectivity. Diana’s speech represents a different stadium of the subjective narrative. Ovid follows the same process: Venus and  a subjective narration, especially when the narrator is involved in the action, a first-person account which contrasts with the subjectivity of Virgil’s story. Lee Fratantuono (140) draws a comparison between Camilla in the Aeneid and Atalanta in met. The second is clearly inspired by the first, and she is evidently the same type of character from primitive folklore: woman-hunter, who lives far from marital and family traditions, dressed in animal skins, and whose interventions in the world of men end in her death. Classen (52) adds the influence of another story: a comparison of Ovid’s representation of Byblis with Dido in Virgil, Aen. 4.1–73. The poetic individuality shown by Ovid in contrast to Virgil becomes clear, as the former uses the elegiac character of metamorphosis: the power of love versus the power of destiny. Both, moreover, are characterised by the same adjective: infelix.

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Lausberg (53) only touches on Virgil in passing; she is more interested in the Greek precedents of the Myrrha episode (met. 10.515–18) in a series of Hellenistic epigrams, as part of Ovid’s attempt to enrich and vary the epic through fusion with motifs and forms from other literary genres. In doing so, Ovid develops various approaches also found within Virgil’s epic tradition and Homer’s commentaries. Robert (74) briefly considers the Pygmalion episode, which he believes to be an allegory of poetic creation, a tale wherein the poet echoes the artistic debates that exist in his time. He compares met. 10.283–6 with Verg. Aen. 4.847–8; Pygmalion creates a work of art that exalts pleasure. In this way, Ovid opposes the aesthetic principles that prevailed in the Augustan period, defending “l’art pour l’art” at  a time when artistic works are celebrated solely for their ideological value. Dyson (103) also deals with the Myrrha episode: her visit to Cinyras’ bedroom (met. 10.298–502) is, ironically, inspired by Aeneas’ visit to Anchises in the Underworld in Virgil Aen. 6. Thus met. 10.300 procul hinc natae, procul este parentes, and Aen. 6.258 procul, o procul este, profani. Pietas (met. 10.320–4) also appears, although not necessarily linked to Aeneas. Myrrha (met. 10.369–75) is compared with the simile of Virgil’s Fall of Troy (Aen. 2.626–38). The falling city is like a dying soldier, and also like a raped woman, an analogy at least as old as the Iliad, and so on with other references. Book 6 of the Aeneid was the most revered part of one of Antiquity’s most venerable works. To involve this book in a story of incest would be an affront to Ovid’s literary ‘father’ no less shocking than Myrrha’s act. But in the vertiginous world of met., nothing, not even the Aeneid, is sacred. Putnam’s (116) article is also about Myrrha: he states that Ovid places special emphasis on Myrrha’s exile in met. 10, attributing this to  a change in the narrator’s tone. This powerful representation is reinforced by the allusion to Virgil, Aen. 10.474–5 and 12.930–6. Ovid also places the imitation of the Myrrha story in the same verse and book number of Aen. He claims that we could even see Cinyras through the lens of Pallas preparing to do battle against Turnus. Putnam emphasises this echo of Aeneid, and adds a new dimension to his story below, when Myrrha asks for her metamorphosis (met. 10.483–5); he remembers the end of Aen.12.930–6. A final instruction about Ovid’s own life may be of interest: exile as a concern in met. might reflect the fact that Ovid revised the work after his relegatio was pronounced or even completed. In his monograph about hunting and love, venatio / amor, Davis (56) dedicates several pages (151–6) to the topic, this time considered in terms of its presence in Virgil. In his carefully structured use of the venatio motif as a foil to the erotic experience, Ovid is not unique among his poetic contemporaries. In particular, Virgil’s Aeneis had already pointed the way to the semantic potentialities of the supposed “disjunction” between love and hunting. Several important narrative episodes in Aeneis (especially in books 1–4) exploit the underlying tension that results when motifs are juxtaposed. The most conspicuous example occurs in the much-discussed scene in book 4 between Aeneas and Dido. Knox (60) is cited here insofar as he records Virgilian elements in met.: for example, Ovid’s dependence on Virgil’s description of the storm at Aen. 1.81–123 for his own

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flood narrative (met. 1.262–312); the author finds a reaction to Virgil’s loftiness in Ovid’s casual and modern style. The author also quotes Virgil’s sixth eclogue, with the song by Silenus: this is based on a cosmogony that continues a catalogue of love myths, a precedent for the met.’s poetic programme (Knox [60] 10–14), among others. Met. is, in this way, the culmination of a literary tradition. This quote from the sixth eclogue is also the starting point for Helzle (78), identified as a primary model for met. as a whole. The article by Kraft (61) is  a mere comparison with didactic interest between the character of Fama in Virgil and Ovid, and in European literature. This subject is dealt with in greater depth by Hardie (121), whose article analyses the structures and function of Fama in Virgil’s and Ovid’s founding texts, and examines selected episodes of its post-antiquity history in Shakespeare and Milton. In Virgil, Fama, the only widespread personification in the Aeneid, is characterised as  a chthonic version of Jupiter’s lightning (Aen. 4.173–97). In Ovid, the personification of Fama through the description of his house (met. 12.39–63) has the function of serving as a prologue to the epic content of the last four books of met.; after all, Fama the κλέος, is consubstantial to the epic. Ovid’s Fama is the last of the four main personifications in the poem (Invidia, Fames and Somnus): his descriptions within the stories of Aglauros, Erysichthon and Alcyone are well motivated, but the same is not true of Fama. In Ovid, the character only serves to ensure that the arrival of the Greeks at Troy is not unexpected, which for Hardie is unexpectedly anticlimactic; as if it didn’t have to be introduced, considering the endorsement brought from Virgil. Hardie also analyses where it appears, and compares georg. 3.16 and met. 12.39, 43. In Ovid, more than rumour, Fama is an embodiment of the political power of the written and spoken word, and of the challenge to authority in both the literary and extra-literary worlds. Hardie carries out an expansion of these ideas (172), from etymological research, up to later poets such as Petrarch, Chaucer, Milton and Pope. The chapter by Garth Tissol (127) examines Fama and its versal structural function. Fama dominates the last pentad of met., where references to Virgil are continuous. Unlike Virgil, who integrates fatum as a structural element of his poem, Ovid reduces it to a presence at certain events. Ovid acknowledges Virgil’s historical vision, without allowing that view to structure his own poem. Instead, he appropriates Virgil’s language and gives the reader more room for interpretation, for example in his representation of Aeneas’ journey, a story that Ovid could not retell. Additionally, when Ovid incorporates Romulus’ apotheosis into the narrative of book 14, readers will likely see their own thoughts turn to Augustus’ identification of himself as the new Romulus. Like Romulus, Augustus finally gains  a place among the divi; the former’s apotheosis in Ovid therefore invites his readers, at least provisionally, to define the relationship between this figure from the remote past and his contemporary incarnation. In this way Ovid presents  a recontextualisation of Virgilian elements on a large scale. Hardie (160) returns to the topic of Fama, which is linked to Allecto in Virgil, and which is one of the five personifications which Ovid uses, Invidia, Fames, Somnus + Morpheus, and Fama (met. 2.760–805; 8.782–822; 11.583–673; 12.39–65), to introduce this subject in connection to the English poet Spenser.

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Another highly specific topic is addressed by Solodow (65): the well-known dependence of met. 1.199–205 (Lycaon) on Aen. 1.148–53. He takes a more general view (66) of the persistence of Virgilian language in the memory, and the influence of Aen. 1.87–153 on Ovid met. 11.493. Solodow states that in Ovid, the transformation of a Virgilian episode is intended to be a challenge to its predecessor, which he finds in Ovid’s carefree and modern style of thinking towards Virgilian superiority. Boyd (68) examines this subject as well as the storm, while Solodow, mentioned above, adds Ovid’s dependence on Virgil’s description of the tempest (Aen. 1.81–123) for his own flood narrative (met. 1.262–312). Boyd continues the comparison by pointing out an unobserved detail of Ovid’s reaction to Virgil in the storm episode: Ovid is not predictably linear; he is less interested in parallelism than in the evocation of his model. Hardie (70) deals with the tragic story of Cadmus and Thebes (met. 3.1–4.603) and concludes that the episode is constructed with constant reference to Aeneid in three areas of comparison: 1) the legend of the foundation; 2) the tension between man within the city and the natural world outside the walls; 3) the repeated intervention of a vengeful god as a means of structuring the narrative. Rosati (90) argues that the Minyeid episode re-elaborates the themes of Clymene’s song in book 4 of Virgil’s Georgics: the song is considered a model for Ovid’s met. The opposition of the Minyads to the cult of Bacchus introduced in met. 4.37–41, and the competition between Arachne and Minerva in 6.17–23 and 53–60, are connected by the description of wool-spinning and weaving. In these scenes, the literal sense is superimposed with metaphorical concepts associated with poetic composition. Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (89) studies the presence of Scylla in met., as a daughter of Nisus (8.6–151) and as a monstrum (13.730–14.74). The author points out some Ovidian echoes (14.60 ff.) in Ciris 77–82, and the use of similar narrative models, concluding that Ciris must have been written shortly after the appearance of met. The article by Musgrove (102) also examines Scylla, but presenting a chronological game. Ovid assumes the roles of both precursor and successor to Homer and Virgil, by making evident the contrast between the moment of his narration (after both the Odyssey and the Aeneid were written) and the time setting of the stories he has told (prior to the Ulysses and Aeneas stories). The author also presents the Scylla story in met. 13 and 14, and the stories that stem thence, as an example of Ovid’s tendency to digress from his so-called ‘main stories’. Musgrove (97) presents another specific episode. Ovid, playing with his readers’ knowledge of the Aeneid, introduces a voice that competes with the latter’s version of the fall of Troy, anticipated by Calchas’ interpretation of the snake and birds omen in Aulis, which originates in Homer. Now another intertext from Aen. 2 allows a view of the passage from both sides of the confrontation: Trojan and Greek, since Ovid chooses the two models, Homer (pro-Greek) and Virgil. The topic of Daedalus and the labyrinth also appears as an object of comparison between Virgil and Ovid. Hoefmans’ article (81), which refers to the possible influence of Lucretius on met. 8.183–235 (Daedalus and Icarus), also points out the allusion to Aen. 6.18–19, in an ironic manner.

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The study by Pavlock (104) explains the same topic by mentioning Aen. 6.14–33. Virgil incorporates his story of Daedalus in the middle of his poem; this position, mediating between old and new, past and future, lends itself to reflection not only on heroic ethics, but also on the poetics of the Aeneid. Virgil makes the labyrinth emblematic: he anticipates both the hero’s encounter with his past in his journey through the twisted paths of the Underworld, and the poet’s review of Rome’s own history. Ovid responds to Virgil’s ecphrasis by expanding the meaning of the labyrinth for his own poem, and by perceiving a more problematic aspect in Daedalus’ invention of wings: as a violation of limits. He transforms Daedalus into an unholy character whose greatest work cannot match the skill of Ovid’s labyrinthine creation. The labyrinth is thus presented as a metaphor of met.’s design in contrast to Virgil’s maze. The latter also makes a surprising etymological move by deriving the word ‘labyrinth’ from the noun labor, thus associating the structure with work and struggle, concepts closely linked to his hero and the definitive foundation of Rome. Ovid disassociates his maze from the Virgilian hero’s hard work. His etymological game connecting the verb labor with the labyrinth perfectly characterises the form of his own poem, its fluid movement from story to story, and its intelligent, though tenuous, transitions from one book to another. The subject of Arcadia is introduced by Segal (108): Ovid presents  a version distinct from the one elaborated in Virgil’s Eclogues (1.216–19); a typical subversion of the gentler Utopia. Jupiter’s discourse at the beginning of met. presents, in fact, the opposite of a pastoral Arcadia. Ovid’s variant reaches the Myth of the Ages (see also Stratenwerth 46), where the poet suppresses Virgil’s optimism about the improvement of the human race in future aurea saecula, and continues with other episodes of met. Influenced by Virgil’s wording, these tales reveal the anti-Augustanism of Ovid: the flood, Phaethon’s episode etc. The Aristaeus episode is recalled by Martín Puente (110): he concludes that, in different ways and forms, Ovid recreates motifs, characters and scenes from the episode of Aristaeus’ entry into the river Peneus, and the welcome given to him by his mother and the nymphs in the Georgics (4.315 ff.) in several passages of met. The author particularly highlights the cases of Theseus with Achelous (met. 8.547–73), the fate of Macareus and his companions fleeing from the banks of Circe (met. 14.248–85), and the legend of Actaeon (met. 3.138–252), as well as in several other passages of met., namely 4.32–273; 1.1–4; 1.569–76. Lucifora’s article (182) looks at Aristaeus: although more interested in Virgil, in a collateral way and from his appearance in the met., the author sees Aristaeus in the role of a shepherd described allegorically as a politician: his immersion in the ocean, as much as that of Aeneas in the waters of the Tiber, prefigures his imminent astral immortality. Papaïoannou (115) tries to establish a comparison between Virgil’s Helenus and Ovid’s version of the character. Helenus is positioned at the end of Pythagoras’ speech, which is the preamble to the last truly ‘historical’ section of Ovid’s epic, culminating with the apotheosis of Julius Caesar and the praise of Augustus. The placement humorously assumes the general concept of the predestined world conquest

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of Rome. Pythagoras and Helenus complement each other in met. 15: Pythagoras, the philosopher-adviser to Numa, who is himself the pioneer king and lawmaker of Rome, throws himself into the light of the Virgilian Helenus, also a prophet and adviser to Aeneas, the founder of the Roman nation. However, Ovid’s Pythagoras speech is full of inaccurate information and chronological fallacies, just as the Vergilian Helenus in Ovid’s text is a confused individual who has chosen to live in the deceptive satisfaction of an acronymic and static world, and he is asked to reveal information about the unknown. In this way, Ovid undermines the standardised literary motif of the epic prophecies about Rome’s conquest of the world. Another specific episode is that of Picus, which Jolivet (147) examines. He compares Picus’ presences, his statues and his temples in the Aeneid and met: material of which the statues are made, cedar or marble, the frame of the narration, Picus’ emblems, and the actors in the story etc. The Roman religious dimension, in the foreground in Virgil (Aen. 7.187–91), is more diffuse in Ovid (met. 14.308–415). For Jolivet, the two representations of the statue and the temple reflect two distinct aesthetics: one Latin and the other Hellenistic. Griffin’s article (57) also considers the presence of Virgil in the PolyphemusGalatea-Acis episode, where he points out Ovid’s various debts to the Eclogues (2; 7). For example, Virgil provided models for the lists of comparisons made by Polyphemus to illustrate Galatea’s positive and negative qualities. Mack (107) studies the insertion of the Acis and Galatea episode into the great narrative of the ‘Little Aeneid’ (pp. 56–9). Over the course of this set of stories-within-stories (‘intricate Chinese box of narratives’, p. 56), Ovid manages to rewrite and combine both Aeneis 3 (where Aeneas tells the story of Achaemenides) and Aeneis 7 (where Virgil describes the arrival of the Trojans in Latium and their meeting with the local king). Moreover, they incorporate a new version of the Polyphemus story from the Odyssey. Creese (159) also considers the presence of Polyphemus, although he focuses more on the Greek models, and less on Virgil. Polyphemus in love presents as much a parody of pastoral love, as superiority towards his main literary models. Polyphemus is also the focus of Krause’s article (164). Her analysis of met. 14.158– 220, Achaemenides’ story, emphasises that Ovid uses Homer and Virgil as his source text, although terms such as imitatio and aemulatio do not adequately describe his intertextual method and his poetics. The poet also invites the reader to understand the intertextual game, such as it is. Ovid’s poetics gives voice to his characters, so that these figures, together with the voices of the narrator, form the poetic and narrative space. In the same vein as Creese and also looking at Polyphemus, Labate (175) compares the two apparitions of this character, in met. 13.740 ff. and 14.167 ff. In book 13 the figure is the young shepherd in love, along the lines of the Hellenistic-bucolic tradition. In book 14 Polyphemus appears as a monster, within the narrative of Aeneas’ journey. In the first case, Ovid refers to bucolic and elegiac Greek and Roman poets, and in the second one mainly to Homer and Virgil. In this way, the poet manages to integrate different literary traditions.

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Nadeau (166) includes Virgil’s episode (Aen. 6.179–82), where the poet describes the trees felled during Misenus’ funeral, and the construction of Aeneas’ fleet, (Aen. 7.321). He also addresses, implicitly, the construction of Portus Iulius under Augustus, with the connection from Lakes Avernus and Lucrinus to the sea. The katabasis begins here in book 6, allowing Virgil to intertwine this motif with the discovery of the golden branch and the beginning of a new era for Rome. This would, additionally, nurture the grain trade, leaving the prophecy of the harpy Celaeno without foundation (Aen. 3.25–257). These elements are treated with distance and humour by Ovid in the story of Erysichthon’s hunger, and of Augustus’ thirst for power (met. 8.739 ff.). Janka (181) also examines the literary triangle of the Cyclops’ appearance in Hom. Od. 9.105–566, Verg. Aen. 3.570–683 and Ov. met. 13 and 14, which reveals intertextual relations between the three poets. Moreover, this character becomes an example of how Virgil reads and interprets Homer, and how Ovid, in turn, reads and makes his own interpretation of Homer and Virgil. The construction of Apollo in Ovid, met. 1.441 ff. is the topic of Battistella (163), from an intertextual perspective compared to Aen. 9.590–663. Here the first aristeia of Ascanius against Remulus Numanus offers  a plausible precedent for Apollo’s appearance in the episode of met. The relation between these two texts is centred on generic opposition (elegiac vs. epic). Emberger (167) studies the episode of Caeneus. Virgil informs us that the cha­ racter has reached the Underworld, where she returns to her feminine condition (Aen. 6.447–9). Ovid (met. 12.168–535) relates that, during the battle between the Lapiths and the Centaurs, the girl transformed into Caeneus was pelted with stones and logs to finish her off, and then she became a bird. Furthermore, Emberger concludes that Ovid’s details could be due to the fact that he considered the metamorphosis as a simile of Octavius’ transformation into Augustus. For the theme of Aeginetan plague, see also Heerink (41). The comparisons between Virgil and Ovid are not only based on comparing episodes of varying lengths, but also according to literary genre and compositive elements. Baldo’s comparison takes as its starting point the external appearance of the epic genre (58). According to him, Ovid seeks to afford met. the epic tradition’s guarantee, despite the essential difference that separates him from Virgil: the latter builds a new moral universe in the Aeneid, while the former, with detachment and humour, considers the mythical material as a mine from which he can extract chunks. However, precisely because of this, Ovid’s approach to the Homeric text is very precise: as proof, met. 12.15–18, in which he again takes up Il. 2.311–23. The author also analyses other connections that confirm this interpretation: Nestor’s performance as an ‘epic fable’, an ‘Iliadic time’. Compare met. 14.156 ff. and Aen. 3.570–691, both of which evoke the content of Od. 9–10. Ovid uses Virgil and Homer, including lexical elements, as if to amuse himself by correcting them. Regarding other passages, met. 4.167–89 is compared to Od. 8.266–369, and met. 3.259–309 (Semele, pregnant with Bacchus) to Il. 14.293–351.

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Baldo’s monograph (86) is much more detailed, with an important methodological introduction and critical discussion about the relations between Aeneid and met. He reviews the Ovidian Aeneid: eneadic sequence met. 13.623–14.580; battle scene met. 4.610–5.241; Homeric presence in met.; similarities with Virgil; epic Ovid, between parody and stereotype, between chasing and fleeing the structural conventions of high epic, and in particular the sublime and pathos-filled aspects of the Virgilian epic. The book clarifies the concept of ‘parody’ in order to point out the complex character of Ovid’s literary lusus between epic and elegiac code: to make the epic elegiac, and to make the elegy epic. It is the author’s way of integrating and interpreting the Aeneis. Baldo (93) continues with the theme of parody, and emphasises that Ovid does not always intend to subvert the model systematically, in line with his previous contributions. The article by Glei (100) also examines the question of genre. The author identifies three areas in which poetic discourse is implicit within the epic: language, content (conception of the hero, innovative attention to the treatment of female characters), and structure (scope, number of books, narrative technique, etc.). The discovery of this discourse, of decisive importance for epic studies, is applied by Glei to Ovid. Secondarily to all this, the author tries to solve the question of Ovid’s anti-Augustan attitude. Glei interprets met. as confronting the Aeneid in some aspects, such as Ovid’s response to Virgil’s epic. He points out the contrast between the Aeneid’s complex but ordered architecture, and Ovid’s chaotic and amorphous narrative continuum. The author links the opposition between the historical / theological approach, in which Augustus’ realm is the zenith, and the antitheological orientation, in which the emperor’s reign is simply an episode in a world that is subject to continuous change. In this point, Ovid is anti-Augustan; the poet’s gods are more in line with Homer’s portrait of them, in contrast with the transcendent gods in the Aeneid, who appear re-anthropomorphised. He then discusses the dispute between Athena and Arachne, and the ‘little Aeneis’ of met. All these topics are analysed in language, content and structure. Although only based on ecl. 6, Martínez Astorino’s study (136) could be included in this section: Virgil’s sixth eclogue is studied in order to clarify three points: 1) the value of the carmen of Silenus contained in the poem; 2) the internal continuitas of the song; 3) the influence of both points on the composition of Ovid’s met. The carmen indicates the Apollonian origin and ‘original’ meaning of all poetry, based on the stories’ ability to link to each other in a continuity that will influence met. thematically and structurally. Thus met. can be read as a carmen perpetuum of the history of man up until Rome, not as a succession of Alexandrian stories. Like ecl. 6, these poems, which tell of the history of the universe, are heirs to the Hesiodic tradition: in this way, Ovid signs himself up to this custom through Virgil. Casali’s well-prepared chapter (158) also deals with the comparison of genres when considering the intertextuality between Virgil and Ovid, for example based on different styles: Verg. ecl. 6, the song of Silenus, is crucial for the poetic programme of met. Sometimes intertextuality can help to illuminate more ‘political’ aspects of Ovid’s work. This is especially the case with the poet’s intertextual relationship

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with the Augustan epic par excellence, Virgil’s Aeneid, and throughout Ovid’s work: Her. 7, Dido’s letter to Aeneas, and the so-called ‘Little Aeneid’ of met. 13.623–14.608. Here Ovid is the interpreter of the poem and therefore of Augustus’ political position. It is not always so; Casali presents Ovid as an exegete of Virgil’s work in the line of Servius. See 129 and 151. The chapter by Vidal (178) is a study of the ways of dealing with the epic genre: while both the Aeneid and met. are Augustan epics, the differences between them are enormous. Virgil’s epic is traditional and Homeric essentially, and his challenge is to modify the traditional hero; in met. the challenge is only artistic, and the main objective is to achieve an entertaining work full of wit, including facts that are not appropriate to the epic. Thus Ovid’s work could be described as ironic compared to Aeneid’s dramatic style. Holzberg (180) also deals in a general way with the question of genres, and not only with epic. Ovid wants to create a poetic work systematically, in which certain themes will vary as much as possible, expanded and addressed from the different perspectives opened up by the chosen poetic form. Virgil designs the incremental appearance of Bucolica, Georgica and Aeneis, while Ovid covers his work with a network of allusions to Greek and Latin works (including Virgil), and with mixed genres. As a hypotext, the Augustan discourse remains omnipresent. The chapter by Casali (129) takes a very intriguing line, within the theme of Aeneas in Ovid: the author places the poet as the first exponent or witness of the Virgilian exegetical tradition, when he interprets six episodes of Aen. 3, in met. 13: Polydorus (Aen. 3.19–68, met. 13.628–30); Auster (Aen. 3.60–72, met. 13.630–1); Anchises (Aen. 3.102–9, met. 13.705–8); Anius on Delos (Aen. 3.78–86, met. 13.632–9); the daughters of Anius (met. 13.644–74); and the Harpies (Aen. 3.192–269, met. 13.709–10). Casali himself returns to the theme of the exegetical tradition in (151), which takes him up to Servius. The author therefore concentrates on the idea that Ovid appears as Virgil’s interpreter, and even seriously considers the possibility of including him in the history of Virgil’s ancient exegesis in a quite literal sense. The catabasis appears as a typical element of the epic genre, rather than of relations between Virgil and Ovid. In addition to the critical examination of previous theses on this subject, and the figure of the Sybill in Virgil’s Aeneis, Silius’ Punica, Ennius’ Annales, Naevius’ Bellum Poenicum and Ovid’s met., Deremetz (138), among other things, explores the extent to which the treatment of time can be fixed in the narrative of the respective author. In other words, from whence one temporarily departs: for this, see met. 14.144–6 and 152–3. On the Sybill in Aen. 6 as a model for the Ovidian passages dedicated to Medea, especially the monologue in met. 7 (also Med. Fr. 2 and Her. 12), see Bessone (168). Staying with the same subject, but covering a wider spectrum, and with a discussion about the Underworld in order to establish an intellectual-intertextual game with the Aeneid, Vielberg (156) examines three text sections whose position in the work also confirms the pentadic structure of met.: the abduction of Proserpina (books 5–6), which refers to the Eleusinian Mysteries; the inclusion of Orphic teachings in the narrative of Orpheus in the Underworld (books 10–11); and the doctrine of

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the migration of souls in Pythagoras’ speech (book 15). As opposed to Virgil, the Trojans in Ovid are indeed responsible for the fall of their city (e.g., by deception, misinterpretation, or misconduct). A typical element of the epic genre is the simile. Hardie’s article (135) points out different similes, presenting comparisons between Virgil and Ovid in various passages, for example: ecl. 1 and 10 and met. 1.694–9: the story of Syrinx, and the appearance of Argus and Mercury, disguised as rustic characters, are Virgilian imitations. In this respect he also mentions the appearance of Venus in Aen. 1.328–9, when the goddess, disguised as  a Carthaginian virgin, deceives Aeneas; for Perseus and Andromeda (met. 4.673–7) Hardie alludes to the fight between Turnus and Aeneas; and Hyacinthus (met. 10.212–13) is linked to the pathos of Virgil’s Marcellus (Aen. 6.882). Anderson (76) discusses another theme also popular in the genre: in the Aeneid, prayers and their gestures are an important and serious form of communication between humans and gods, and between men themselves (Aen. 1.92–6; 5.685–7; 2.152–7; 2.405–6; 10.595–8; 10.844–5; 12.930–2 and 938–9). By contrast with those in met., they often attract destruction or metamorphosis (met. 4.516–19; 6.639–41; 3.719–25; 1.635–8; 1.646–50; 1.729–33; 2.476–84; 2.487–8; 2.505–7; 3.192–3; 3.237–41). Anderson (77) returns to the theme of genre: this article mainly addresses the elements that met. introduces which are new, significant, entertaining and capable of challenging Virgil’s Aeneid. He also considers to what extent Ovid, the elegiac poet, changes the epic form in which he has chosen to work. Anderson concludes that met., as is well-known, is a poem that encompasses several different genres, but Ovid is primarily interested in humanity and human nature: the author uses the Theban stories from met. 3–4 to validate a human point of view. Also relevant to this genre, especially in Virgil, is the exercise of etymologizing. O’Hara (92) focuses on how Ovid also plays with instances of etymological wordplay in Virgil: the way in which words must be read / understood in order to understand /  appreciate each poet’s objectives and methods. Ovid’s wordplay is more elaborate than has been suggested: the poet reads Virgil with great care and is captivated by the variation in etymology, thus being more creative and open than his predecessor. The article by Paschalis (132) is another example of investigating the semantics and etymology of proper names. He studies the Polydorus and Polyxena episodes (met. 13.399–575) and their intertexts, namely Euripides’ Hecuba and Virgil (Aen. 3.49–57). Proper names interact dynamically with the contexts in which they appear, and connect their narrative levels. Metre and its different manifestations in epic poetry is another object of study. Huxley (94) shows Ovid’s debt to Virgil in metrics (he makes the hexameters lighter, with fewer ellipses and more dactyls, or by inventing dactyl-based adjectives, using Greek noun-endings). He points out thematic borrowings from Eclogues, Georgics and the Aeneid, but this seems to be more in a tone of disclosure than anything else. Bishop’s thesis (112) is focused on the two great battles of met.: Perseus-Phineus (met. 5.1–235), as a response to Vergil’s Aeneid (especially book 10); and the Lapiths and Centaurs (met. 12.210–535), as Ovid’s rejoinder to Homer’s Iliad.

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The contribution by Keith (122) is focused on questions of genre. She carries out an analysis of the genres of met.’s first five books. In the case of epic, the hexameter appears as a debt to Virgil, so that met. has epic pretensions from the beginning. In contrast to other scholars, Keith emphasises that the last two lines of the proem highlight this new commitment to epos. The didactic aspect is also evident from this tradition in the cosmogonic epic (Hesiod, Empedocles, Lucretius). Also, regarding the consideration of the characters, in his “Perseid”, Ovid follows Virgil’s model, whereby the central figures correspond to characters in the Aeneid: Perseus, Phineus, Andromeda, and Cepheus take up the roles of Aeneas, Turnus, Lavinia, and Latinus. In terms of the war motif, based on the battle episodes, Ovid refines these episodes by concentrating their structural and general literary modes, although always with reworkings of details. This has suggested to some scholars that the battle scene becomes parodic or burlesque. Keith (124) again addresses the theme of war narrative. She highlights Virgil’s focus on the fratricidal conflict that Allecto initiates in Aen. 7, implying that the Italic war in books 7–12 can be read as an analysis not only of the Homeric conventions of epic war, but also of the civil wars of the last generation of the Republic, and even as  a conflict between family members. Ovid evidences his reading of Virgil in his treatment of the Perseus’ conflict with Phineus, which takes place in the palace of the latter’s father-in-law Cepheus; he assembles this from the end of book 4 to met. 5.251. She again focuses on Ovid’s tendency to complicate things by concentrating allusions to different Virgilian scenes or characters in a single passage, for example Ovid’s Perseus, modelled on Hercules, Aeneas and Odysseus. Lake’s Dissertation (165) also examines the myth of Perseus in met., transformed by Ovid using parody. The poet adapts his sources for this episode, creating a version that is intended primarily as a critique of the way Augustus uses the myth’s figures, and Perseus in particular, in his imagery. This tale provides the best insight into Ovid’s criticism of using myth as political propaganda: he turns the tale into a satire of Virgil’s Aeneis. Perseus’ heroism is questioned, his divine descent is doubted, and the episode concludes with a parody of an epic battle, specifically directed at Virgil’s epic. The abundant satire of the Aeneis is also addressed to Aeneas himself, who is even more important than Perseus in Augustus’ images and propaganda. Furthermore, this is the only variant of the Perseus myth in which Turnus is descended from the Inachids, and from Perseus himself in particular: proof that Ovid could have chosen Perseus as the hero of his parody of the Aeneis. The article by Gladhill (171) connects the beginning of the Aeneis with the end of met. He presents an analysis of the poetics of the reception by Ovid of Jupiter’s prophecy in Aen. 1, and discusses the implications of the poet’s relationship with Virgil in this regard. At the end of met. Ovid is interested in exploring the role of Virgil’s prophetic elements in the epic, from a perspective that channels all the ways in which Virgil used fate, prophecy, and divination in the face of the ironic representation of an about-to-end Augustan present. Ovid models the revelation of Caesarian Rome in met. 15.745–842 on Aen. 1.227–96,  a passage that fuses the fata with mythical deification (Aeneas) and historical deification (Caesar). Ovid includes what Virgil excludes (Caesar’s assassination and Augustus’ rise to power), and extends to the

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themes of deification and succession. In Ovid’s met. the fata have reached their tempora, as a prophetic future slips into an uncertain present, questioning the entire narrative apparatus of prophetic poetry. Cairo’s article (179) continues with this line of comparison: she considers the interpretation of the dialogue between Venus and Jupiter from the first book, in which the god reveals to his daughter the fate of Aeneas and the Romans, central to the notion of fatum in the Aeneid. Ovid presents, in the context of the death and subsequent apotheosis of Julius Caesar in met. 15,  a version of this passage in which  a novel characterisation of fatum and its relationship with the other divinities is proposed. The passage in met. 15 is studied as key to the interpretation of the Virgilian fatum. The author notes that Ovid creates a new version of the Jupiter / Venus dialogue, which, instead of including in the context of Aeneas’ travels, he transfers from mythical time to historical time. The article by Río Torres-Murciano (184), as the title explains, presents a comparison between the so-called ‘men of action’ and ‘men of words’ in Roman epic. As far as Virgil and Ovid are concerned, this contrast is based mainly on the ambiguities that can destabilise  a clear distinction between the two types, as Virgil warned in the debate between Drances and Turnus (Aen. 11.336 ff.), and also emphasised by Ovid in the judgement of arms (met. 13.1 ff.). The contrast is also manifested in the confrontation between Ulysses and Aiax, where Ovid seems to conclude a relationship of causality: Ulysses’ eloquence has caused Achilles’ weapons to be assigned to him, and not to Aiax. Smith’s article (83) examines the final part of met., dealing with how the epic elements are updated and adapted by Ovid to the reality of his time. The end of met. (15.745–879) includes numerous references to the Iliad and the Aeneis, but the dialogue of Jupiter and Venus evokes images of the Aeneid and brings a conflict of mythical vs. historical epic, of ancient vs. modern epic. For example, when Jupiter calms Venus’ concerns about the death of her descendant, Jupiter assures her that the end of Caesar’s earthly life has been decreed by fate, and that a destiny in line with his divine ascendancy awaits him. The parallel between met. 15.807–14 and Aen. 1.254–60 is clear, but taken for a parody. Virgil adopted the period of the Bronze Age from Homer as a setting for his epic; and, despite his prophecies about the age to come, the Aeneid remains confined to that period. However, met. explicitly comes up to the time of Ovid. According to Lowe (155), however, Virgil and Ovid seem closer in terms of allegory, an element frequently used in epic. He presents an analysis of innovations introduced by the two poets, which for the author have much to do with the popularisation in Rome of stoic readings of allegorical texts during the 1st c. bce. To this end, Lowe studies the case of the Furies, which move from the state of supernatural beings to that of personified abstractions. Both Ovid and Virgil make concrete and ontologically ambiguous fictional abstractions. Morison (87) offers an exegetic note: regarding Ovid met. 14.196, he sees echoes of Verg. Aen. 3.627; and for met. 14.210–12, the author detects traces of Aen. 3.630–3, through word games and parodic intention.

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Due (95) presents the relationships between Ulysses and Aeneas, and Penelope and Dido. Starting from the presentation of the two epic female characters in Heroides, Ovid presents a true narrative and stylistic autonomy in the personalities of Ulysses and Aeneas that leads him to humour. Thus the episode of Ulysses, Achaemenides and Machareus, is not parody, but the comedy that you can assign to the things you love and admire. Humour also can be found in Ovid’s Aeneas, using the predecents of the character in the Aeneid: Virgil’s specific touristic interest, for example (the works in Carthage and the visit to Evander), reinforced by Ovid. Smith’s book (98) aims to apply the hermeneutic theory of Martin Buber. It contains  a large number of well-known intertextualities: links between the stories of Polydorus in Aen. 2 and the Heliads in met. 2; between met. 10.475 ‘pendenti nitidum vagina deripit ensem’ (from the Cinyras and Myrrha episode) and Aen. 10.475 vaginaque cava fulgentem deripit ensem (when Pallas is fighting); and the possible connection between Ovid’s ensis and Aeneas’ ensis, used by Dido to commit suicide (Aen. 4.646–64). Smith points out that sometimes the link can be banal: simply an awareness of the literary tradition. As for met., Smith acknowledges that Ovid loved Virgil’s works, hence so many underlying references, so that he is not simply attacking or unnecessarily parodying Virgil every time he refers to one of his texts. Those references are a necessary part of reading intertextually. The aforementioned work by Edmunds (113) is dedicated to analysing books 13 and 14 of met., but with a reading that uses the three levels of Gennette’s narration: poet to reader, character to character, and narrative within a character’s narrative, in other words sub-narrative. The most extreme cases of intertextuality seem to occur when one character is telling another what was narrated to him, i. e. sub-narrative. As an example of the application of his theory on intertextuality, he offers the daughters of Anius episode in met. 13.644–74. One specific example of the variation between Virgil and Ovid is Fabre-Serris’ proposal (99): ‘iste ego sum! sensi; nec me mea fallit imago’ of met. 3.463 and ‘iudice te metuam, si numquam fallit imago’ of Verg. ecl. 2.27. The variation Ovid suggests is studied here from a dual point of view: on the one hand, from poetics; and on the other, from the viewpoint of Ovidian conceptions of the origin and effects of artistic production. Another specific case is presented by Felgentreu (126): met. 13.730–1 and Aen. 3.420–1. For the author, even though Ovid seemingly improves the verse metrically and technically, the poet has not understood the position ἀπο κοινοῦ of latus. Baldo (145) studies the function of gestures in the definition of Ovid’s characters in comparison with Virgil’s model, while Hardie (146) deals with the issue of incest. This is a main and explicit theme of the erotic content of Ovid’s met., notably the brother-sister incest of Byblis and Caunus in book 9, and the parent-child incest of Myrrha and Cinyras in book 10.  In Virgil, on the other hand, although a plot alluding to sibling love runs through the episode of Dido and Aeneas (comparison of Dido and Aeneas with Diana and Apollo at Aen. 1.498–502 and 4.143–50), and with the moon and the sun (Aen. 6.453–4), Aeneas’ departure from Carthage sets out the journey to a future foundation based on exogamy, even though Italy itself is not free

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from the dangers of incest and fratricide. However, Ovid’s explicit myths of incest in met. 9.455–663 and 10.312–502 depart from Virgil’s more allusive narrative. Joseph’s article (154) deals with the adaptation of Virgil’s phrase (Aen. 1.33) tanta molis erat Romanam condere gentem (tanta mole at Aen. 8.693) by Ovid (met. 15.765) and Tacitus (Ann. 1.11.1). Each of the subsequent uses implies a critique of Augustus’ regime, while in the specific case of Ovid, who at other points repeats the expression in an approximate way, the use of the juncture is presented for a more targeted purpose, being situated in a precise place and time. For the poet, the change to Caesarism can be seen as a step backwards in human progress. Casali (91) presents Ovid as Virgil’s literary critic, by comparing Aen. 2.721–804 and met. 13.623–7 (Aeneas’ departure from Troy); Aen. 3.424 ff. and met. 13.730–4 (Scylla as  a poetic fiction); Aen. 4.373–4 and met. 14.78–81 (Dido’s story from different voices); and Aen. 7.411–13 and met. 14.572–80 (unlike Virgil, Ovid says that Aeneas destroyed Ardea). Casali suggests that Ovid’s reading can be seen as anti-Augustan. Graf (64) tries to study, from the point of view of the myths’ veracity, how Ovid draws on etiological stories collaterally with Virgil, so that the explanations can seem relevant. Ovid presents the narrator as a character who is willing to believe in the veracity of these tales, a reflection of the paradoxical state of myth in Ovid’s time, but also a reaction to Virgil’s claim of founding Roman realities through fictional narratives. For Virgil’s relation with the Procne-Philomela-Tereus episode, also see supra Ciappi (21). Paschalis (54) takes advantage of the use of the verb evolat by Virgil at Aen. 7.387 and 9.477. For the author, this verb has a strongly dramatic and affective connotation, as well as from a textual point of view. The verb is always in the third person singular and always at the beginning of the verse. Since Virgil’s usage has influenced epic poetry, the author advises, for literary reasons, to keep the reading evolat in Ciris 214 and in Ovid, met. 6.249. The article by White (109) is of a textual nature, referring to Ciris in the mention of Pachynus. c. Other Authors 185.  J. W. Allison, “Propertius 4.7.94”, AJPh 101, 1980, 170–3. 186.  J. C. Yardley, “Propertius 4.7.94: a reply”, AJPh 102, 1981, 326. 187.  P. E. Knox, Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the tradition of elegy, Cambridge MA 1982. 188.  G. M. Paul, “Urbs capta: Sketch of an Ancient Literary Motif ”, Phoenix 36, 1982, 144–55. 189.  J. C. Yardley, “Propertius 4.7.94 yet again”, AJPh 104, 1983, 281–2. 190.  A. Taliercio, “Alcuni aspetti dell’etiologia in età augustea”, RCCM 27, 1985, 13–21.

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191.  F. della Corte, “Gli Empedoclea e Ovidio”, Maia 37, 1985, 3–12 192.  F. Bellandi, “Flumina nectaris ibant: (età dell’oro, frugalitas e cuccagna nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio)”, SicGymn 45, 1992, 29–42. 193.  A. Griffin, “Ovid’s Universal Flood”, Hermathena 152, 1992, 39–58. 194.  P. Hardie, The Epic Successors of Virgil: A Study in the Dynamics of Tradition, Cambridge 1993. Reviews: J.  Farrell, BMCR 1993.01.08; D.  Fowler, G&R 40, 1993, 229–31; G. Devallet, REL 71, 1993, 304–5; W. S. Anderson, CW 89, 1996, 71; W. J. Dominik, Hermathena 158, 1995, 99–101; F. Spaltenstein, Latomus 56, 1997, 168–71. 195.  M. Hoefmans, “Myth into Reality: the Metamorphosis of Daedalus and Icarus (Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII, 183–235)”, AC 63, 1994, 137–60. 196.  K. S. Myers, Ovid’s Causes: Cosmogony and Aetiology in the Metamorphoses, Ann Arbor 1994. Reviews: D. F. Kennedy, G&R 42, 1995, 227; S. M. Wheeler, BMCR 1995.03.31; S. J. Harrison, CR 46, 1996, 24–5; M. W. Musgrove, AJPh 117, 1996, 338–41; W. S. Anderson, CW 90, 1997, 61; J. Loehr, IJCT 4, 1998, 629–31. 197.  J. Fabre-Serris, “Jeux de modèles dans l’alexandrinisme romain: les hommages à Gallus dans la Bucolique X et l’Élégie I, 20 de Properce et ses échos ovidiens”, REL 73, 1995, 124–37. 198.  R. J. Tarrant, “Greek and Roman in Seneca’s tragedies”, HSCPh 97, 1995, 215–30. 199.  G. Maggiulli, “La cena di Baucis: presupposti per una metamorfosi”, Helikon 35/38, 1995/98, 371–83. 200.  T. D. Papanghelis, “De tergore partem exiguam: the case for a programmatic metaphor in Ovid, Met. 8. 649–50”, Philologus 140, 1996, 277–84 201.  G. Rosati, “Il bel ritroso e il rifiuto d’amore: un modello callimacheo nelle Metamorfosi”, in G. Papponetti (ed.), Metamorfosi. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi: Sulmona, 20–22 novembre 1994, Sulmona 1997, 167–80. 202.  G. Tissol, The Face of Nature. Wit, Narrative, and Cosmic Origins in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Princeton 1997 (revised version of Narrative style in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the influence of Callimachus, Ph. D. Th. Univ. of California, Berkeley 1988). Reviews: B. W. Boyd, Vergilius 44, 1998, 151–8; J.  Filée, LEC 66, 1998, 173; N. Holzberg, CR 48, 1998, 313–15; L. Morgan, JRS 88, 1998, 195–6; K. S. Myers, CJ 93, 1998, 452–4; S. Spence, CO 75, 1998, 151; S. Casali, RFIC 127, 1999, 348–53; A. Gosling, Scholia 8, 1999, 126–30; A. Loupiac, Latomus 58, 1999, 685; M. Helzle, CRCL 27, 2000, 332–6; C. E. Newlands, CW 93, 2000, 110–11; J. B. Solodow, BMCR 2000.01.26; L. Spahlinger, Gnomon 72, 2000, 261–3. 203.  S. H. Lindheim, “I am dressed, therefore I am? Vertumnus in Propertius 4.2 and in Metamorphoses 14.622–771”, Ramus 27, 1998, 27–38.

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204.  B. Pavlock, “Daedalus in the Labyrinth of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, CW 92, 1998/99, 141–57. 205.  Y. Nadeau, “The death of Aeneas – Vergil’s vision (and Ovid’s): an insight into the politics of Vergil’s poetry”, Latomus 59, 2000, 289–316. 206.  P. Hardie, “The Historian in Ovid: The ‘Roman History’ of Met. 14–15”, in D. S. Levene, D. P. Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002, 191–210. 207.  S. Kyriakidis, “The Alban Kings in the Metamorphoses. An Ovidian Catalogue and its Historiographical Models”, in D. S. Levene, D. P. Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002, 211–29. 208.  V. Chinnici, “Fit lapis et servat serpentis imagine saxum (Ov. Met. 12, 23). Ovidio tra Omero e Cicerone”, in L. Landolfi, P. Monella (eds.), Ars adeo latet arte sua. Riflessioni sull’ intertestualità ovidiana, Palermo 2003, 81–101. 209.  P. Hardie, “Approximative Similes in Ovid. Incest and Doubling”, Dictynna 1, 2004 (http://journals.openedition.org/dictynna/166). 210. Y. Syed, “Ovid’s Use of the Hymnic Genre in the Metamorphoses”, in A. Barchiesi, J. Rüpke, S. Stephens (eds.), Rituals in Ink. A Conference on Religion and Literary Production in Ancient Rome held at Standford University in February 2002, Stuttgart 2004, 99–113 (Postdamer altertumswissenchaftliche Beiträge 10). 211.  G. Baldo, “Pathos ed elegia nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in C.  Santini, F. Santucci (eds.), Properzio nel genere elegiaco: modelli, motivi, riflessi storici, Atti del convegno internazionale Assisi, 27–29 maggio 2004, Assisi 2005, 325–58. 212.  E. Pianezzola, “La tempesta e l’assedio: Ovidio, Metamorfosi XI 410–582”, Paideia 60, 2005, 255–67. 213. K. Waldner, “Griechische und römische Aitiologie in Ovids Metamor­ phosen”, in A. Bierl, R. Lämmle, K. Wesselmann (eds.), Literatur und Religion. Wege zu einer mythisch-rituellen Poetik bei den Griechen, Berlin-New York 2007, II, 203–37. 214.  M. Korenjak, “Von den Metamorphosen zum Brief an Augustus: Ovids ‘horazische Periode’”, in M. Janka, U. Schmitzer, H. Seng (eds.), Ovid: Werk – Kultur – Wirkung, Darmstadt 2007, 239–56. 215.  Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “El amor, soporte de la metamorfosis en la poética ovidiana”, in T. Arcos Pereira, J. Fernández López, F. Moya del Baño (eds.), Pectora mulcet. Estudios de retórica y oratoria latinas, Calahorra 2009, I, 261–75. 216.  S. J. Heyworth, “Propertius and Ovid”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Malden, Ma-Oxford 2009, 265–78. 217.  K. F. B. Fletcher, “Ovidian «correction» of the biblical flood?”, CPh 105, 2010, 209–13. 218.  A. Vildeau, La poétique d’Ovide, de l’ élégie à l’ épopée des Métamorphoses: essai sur un style dans l’ histoire, Paris 2010.

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219. F. Moya del Baño, “Y Propercio, un eslabón en la senda del mito”, in Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 89–111. 220.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Nei cieli di Icaro e Fetonte, tra antico e moderno (Ovidio, Seneca, Dante, poeti del ‘500, D’Annunzio”, in S. Audano, G. Cipriani (eds), Aspetti della Fortuna dell’antico nella Cultura europea. Atti dell’Ottava Giornata di Studi, Foggia 2012, 103–27. We shall try to structure this section by author, bearing in mind that cross-references may be frequent. Horace Landolfi (9) makes  a very brief allusion to Hor. carm. 3.27.69–76, where Venus calms Europa by revealing her destiny; he points out that in met. the story lacks a real conclusion (pp. 517–8). The aforementioned work by Hoefmans (195) also addresses the allusion to Hor. carm. 1.3.37–40 in met. 8.186–9: although Icarus is not ‘guilty’, he is, as Ovid says (met. 8.224), caeli cupidine tractus. The phrase is programmatic for the theme of hybris, and is a clear allusion to the passage in Horace mentioned. In this ode (1.3) Horace places Daedalus between Prometheus and Hercules. Although Syed (210) is more interested in comparing book 1 of met. with the Homeric hymns – the author examines the use of the hymn genre to show how boundaries are blurred between hymn, eulogy, and epic poetry – neverthless she situates Horace carm. 4.2 as an antedecent of Ovid, due to the mixture of hymn and eulogy. Korenjak (214), while addressing other works by Ovid, links the sphragis of Horace’s first three books (carm. 3.30) with that of met.’s ending. Degl’Innocenti Pierini (220) explores the appearance of the Daedalus and Icarus myths in Horace (carm. 1.3; 2.20; 4.2) and their reflection in met. They clearly constitute the fundamental archetype of the fortune of the two mythical tales in European literature. In addition, Todini (13) dedicates a chapter of his book to analysing how Ars poetica and met. can ‘coexist’, from the point of view that assumes met.’s transgression with respect to the first verses of Ars. While Horace warns about the risk of a copy that is mimetically inadequate by using hybrid language, Ovid, on the other hand, makes the meditative use of this language and its infinite narrative resources his unifying formal principle, an instrument that allows him to develop a narrative technique of change, whether used for comic, dramatic or any other purpose.

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Propertius Allison (185) relates Propertius 4.7.94 with CIL VI.2.9693 and with met. 11.674 ff., especially 706–7 (Alcyone / Morpheus), in concrete terms ossa / ossibus or almost synonyms tangam / teram, with the addition that both verbs appear in the same position of the verse, even though the roles are reversed. In both poets, the emotions of love and loss are central. The article was replicated by J. C. Yardley (186 and 189) in his reference to CIL and his interpretation. From Propertius and the elegiacs in general, Ovid cultivates medicina amoris and incurable love, and translates them to met.: thus Knox (60), pp. 10–17, 111–25. Myers (196), 95–132, returns to Propertius in discussing the history of Pomona and Vertumnus, and she rescues the historical literary background to both. The author includes a detailed discussion of the relationship of this story to Propertius 4.2, situating the episode in the neoteric amatory tradition, which is also discussed in (239). For this same theme and the problem of identity and costume, see Lindheim (203), although her main interest is Propertius and his poetics. She considers the statue’s ability to assume and shift identities with a simple change of costume, reflecting the poet’s desire to challenge the traditional generic boundaries of love elegy. Ovid dresses the artwork first in Roman themes, then in love themes, so that self-representation gives rise to identity; the poet challenges Propertius’ claims that representation creates gender. On the influence of Propertius 4.2, see also Álvarez Morán and Iglesias Montiel (219), especially for the myth of Vertumnus, where Ovid’s intention is to show us his ability to “metamorphose” elegy into epic. Fabre-Serris (197) also touches on Ovid and Propertius’ relationship. Based on Virgil’s Eclogues 2 and 10 and his reference to Gallus, with the debate of love’s suffering in between, Propertius 1.20 and Ovid in met. are on Gallus’ side. But the perspective adopted in met. is very different from that of Virgil or Propertius: no longer paying tribute to Gallus by advising or warning him, in met. Ovid is, instead, like the author of Amores through the mediation of Propertius’ text. The poet’s analysis of passion is, in fact, in line with Platonic analyses of love: the feeling is a search for One under the aspect / appearance of the Other. Thus Narcissus and Hermaphroditus (many of whose elements are Propertian) are two fundamental figures in the erotic poetics of met.: the first symbolises the love of One, the second the rejection of the Other. Papanghelis (200) brings up the Philemon and Baucis episode based on a programmatic reference. Starting from met. 8.649–50, he compares the use of exiguus to scenes in other examples of traditional epic where a host offers meat to one or more guest. In this case exiguus is opposed to forms such as διηνεκής or perpetuus. The author also suggests that the phrase de tergore partem exiguam, should be interpreted as a “self comment” (p. 281) through which the poet takes an ironic distance from traditional epic models. The use of exiguus in this sense takes on a literary meaning, as seen in Prop. 3.9.35–6, 4.1.59–60. Rosati (201) believes that, for Ovid’s episode of Acontius and Cidippe, the text of Callimachus is the hypotext, especially based on met. 3.440–5. He notices that Ovid, in met. 3.440–5, complements Prop. 1.18.19–20: vos eritis testes, si quos habet arbor

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amores / fagus et Arcadio pinus amica deo. “E attraverso Properzio il richiamo rinvia al modello callimacheo, a quell’Aconzio e Cidippe che costituisce l’archetipo di questa scena ma, io credo, anche l’ipotesto dell’intero episodio di Narciso” (p. 180). In a short chapter based on the narrative elegies of Propertius, especially Prop. 4.4 (Tarpeia), Tissol (202, 143–53), points out that the elegiac poet anticipates the style of met. By making Propertius assume the narrative condensation, ellipsis, cultivation of surprise etc. coming from Callimachus, and expanding the heroine’s discourse, he offers a model for Ovid’s narrative, and gives the example of Scylla’s story in book 8. The subject of Daedalus also relates to Propertius. Pavlock (204), who highlights that Daedalus appears in classical literature in different ways (Horace in Odes 1.3; 2.20; 4.2, uses the flight of Daedalus and Icarus as an image of artistic hybris), indicates that Ovid’s description of Daedalus and his labyrinth in met. 8 (he compares the labyrinth with the river Maeander) is in deliberate contrast with the representations of the river Maeander in Propertius 2.34, which may have been his model. Propertius, using terms like mollis, favours the less elevated style of elegy. With the river simile, he shows his capacity for incorporating into met. the light, playful mode of elegiac poetry, without losing the power and grandeur of epic. Another of Hardie’s themes (194) is the influence of Propertius on the episodes of Philomela (met. 6.451–4) and Adonis (met. 10.515–18). Prop. 1.2 is relevant for Ovid’s treatment of the themes of art and nature, illusion and reality. Philomela’s artificial embellishments, and the greater value of her natural beauty, are compared to the topic of simulated and unadorned beauty in Propertius 1.2, including textual parallels. In the case of Adonis, again echoes are found of the natura / cultus  opposition in Propertius 1.2, a contrast repeated throughout Ovid’s poem. The chapter by Waldner (213), who is interested in the representation of the natural aitia, leads him to comparisons with others authors who have also practised it. This is the case of Ovid’s connection with Propertius, especially 4.1.64; he combines the Greek aitia with the city of Rome’s topography. The author analyses the history of Apollo and Daphne (met. 1.416–567) from this point of view, among others. In  a similar vein, see also Taliercio (190), who adds Virgil into the comparison. The most detailed review of the relationship between Propertius and Ovid is that of Heyworth (216). Although more logically focused on Ovid’s erotic work, he introduces met. based on Propertius 4. Verbal similarities emphasise the reworking of Propertius’ topics, hence the erotic narrative that runs from Deucalion and Pyrrha in met. 1 to Vertumnus and Pomona in met. 14. Both are marked by the use of the concepts mollis and durus, developed by Propertius as markers of the elegy and epic, as in met.1.400–2 and 14.757–8. Heyworth points out other similarities, such as those linking the beginning of book 8: met. 8.25–9 and its model in Prop. 2.1.5–10; met. 14.643–56 and Prop. 4.2.21–42 (Vertumnus) etc. Also very illustrative of Propertius’ influence on the Ovid of met. is the chapter by Moya del Baño (219). This highlights how, in many cases, Propertius departs from common versions of myths, and uses them to elevate Cynthia and himself to the world of heroes and gods. Propertius is, moreover, the first to introduce several myths into Latin literature for the first time (Endymion, Andromeda and Hypermestra together,

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Hypsipyle, Achilles and Briseis and Protesilaus). Moya del Baño analyses some of them and indicates how they influenced Ovid. Elegiac poets in general Based on neoteric tradition, Knox (187) presents  a monograph that tries to trace Ovid’s debts in met. to previous neoteric and elegiac poetry. This incursion of Ovid into a superior genre, the epic, at first led many critics to search unsuccessfully for a unifying theme and structure. This study, which includes a detailed analysis of books 1 and 15, attempts a different approach, focusing on the problems of diction and poetic style. This leads Knox to look towards the elegiac tradition, through which he reaches the neoteric. The purpose is to place met. in the tradition of Roman neoteric poetry, of which Ovid and the other elegiacs were heirs. Thus he observes poetic vocabulary with Ovidian diction in met., bringing a sophisticated informality that is typical of the neoteric and elegiac tradition. Along these lines, a combination of lexicon leads Ovid to established poetic vocabulary, to the formation of words, and to the use of the sermo plebeius. In the mixed diction of the poem, Ovid admits a large number of words and phrases that are generally not found in the elevated style of epic. The author also finds a tendency towards eclecticism in vocabulary. This same eclecticism is also seen in the treatment of Ovid’s metric style, and in the composition of individual stories that evoke the familiar motifs of elegy. Ovid does not construct his poem as an epic, but as a deductum carmen conceived on a large scale. A characteristic feature of Latin elegy is the colloquial tone adopted by the poet; Ovid continues to cultivate this tone in his elegies. In the objective narrative of met., the establishment of such a dialogue is impossible, but Ovid points to the same effect through the use of parentheses. Ovid’s interest in mixing elements of epic and elegy is also evident in his metric technique: the avoidance of the trochaic caesura in the fourth foot is a standard feature of Latin verse. However, a progressive relaxation of the restrictions against violating ‘Herman’s bridge’ is evident in Propertius’ poetry, a trend continued in Ovid’s elegies. The appa­ rent explanation is the deliberate cultivation by Ovid, and before him by Propertius, of a greater coincidence of accent and ictus on the fourth foot. The same interest is evident in the frequency of the secondary accent and ictus coinciding in the fourth foot. In conclusion, met. is approached as the last product of the neoteric tradition, as received, transformed and adapted by Ovid from the elegiacs. In terms of the elegiacs in general, Baldo (211) analyses the episode of Biblis in met. 9, and that of Vertumnus and Pomona in met. 14, and he shows how Ovid adapts the elegiac code to the narrative necessities of epic. Although he includes narrative elements linked to epic, Pianezzola (212) carries out a stylistic analysis of the Ovidian episode of Ceyx and Alcyone in their elegiac elements. In his detailed study of Ovidian elegy and epic, Vildeau (218) addresses, above all, the stylistic implications of Ovid’s response to power. The book consists of two parts: the first of these is as much a history of Roman elegy and its poems, as a study of Ovid, and identifies certain distinctive characteristics of the genres that reappear in met.

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The article by Papanghelis (200) (vid. supra on Propertius) also brings up literary uses as signposts of the exiguus literary genre in Tibullus 1.1.21–2, 1.1.33–4, 1.20.19–20. Other authors, including prose writers Della Corte (191) defends the influence attributed to the Empedoclea of Sallust on Pythagoras’ speech in met. To justify the 250 instances of metamorphosis in his poem, Ovid uses the theories of Empedocles, probably according to Sallust’s Empedoclea, which becomes an intermediary model for Ovid. The article by Paul (188) deals with the literary motif of a city’s capture by tracking its components and how they reach Ovid, whom he only touches on tangentially. These motifs are also constructed by historians, such as Livy or Caesar, or in treatises on rhetoric. Griffin’s article (193), on the Flood, discusses Ovid’s knowledge of the biblical account of the inundation from ararat (met. 1.294). In the story there is a trace of Ovid’s humour: the survivor is ploughing the sea where he recently ploughed the soil, and Griffin wonders whether there might also be an allusive reference to Mount Ararat, although this does not seem likely. Griffin alludes here to the use of ploughing in a metaphorical way, as in Verg. Aen. 2.780 and 3.495, Ov. am. 2.10.33 and trist. 1.2.76, moreover always at the end of a verse. Fletcher (217) dedicates an article to the same topic: on the possibility that ararat in met. 1.294 is an allusion to the history of the Hebrew flood in the Septuagint and the implications of Ovid’s familiarity with history. Only Noah’s appearance would have been more recognisable. In Maggiulli’s view (199), the episode of met. 8.620–724, with a Phrygian setting, reproduces Roman food uses found in Cato. Maggiulli also reviews elements present in Hor. serm. 2. In a chapter dedicated more to Ennius than to the prose writers prior to Ovid, Hardie (206) points out some differences between Ovid and Livy in the conception of the story, especially in met. 15 (a microcosm of all the Annales of Ennius), starting with Livy’s praefatio. If Ovid has in mind Livy’s use of the common medical image (civil war / plague), in met. 15 he uses it in an un-Livian manner. The Roman historian never replaced his preface’s pessimism,  a reflection of the early years of Augustus’ career, with a panegyric of the regime. Ovid rejoices, at least, in an alternative way of conceiving history as ‘Heilsgeschichte’. Ovid’s correction of Sallust and Livy’s historical trajectory of rise and fall is in line with the movement in the later met. books:  a final ascending sequence of met., as man reveals his capacity to approach the divine. Kyriakidis (207) is interested in catalogues, and although he connects Ovid’s Alban Kings catalogue at met. 14.609–21 with Aeneid 6.760–72, the list is longer and has  a more analytical appearance. Ovid’s catalogue is mainly closer to Livy’s, and largely to Dionysius of Halicamassus’ list. In the same vein, Ovid particularly emphasises his closeness to Livy’s list, not only by order of succession, but by the way the names are presented.

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For Livy’s influence on the Vertumnus and Pomona episode, see also Jones (111) supra. In the first part of his article (192), Bellandi discusses the influence of Cicero’s Aratea on the Myth of Ages, for example the use of the term proles in met. 1.114; 125. For the links between Cicero, Somnium Scipionis, and met., see Nadeau (205): she attempts to answer the question of why Virgil chooses not to give an explicit account of his hero’s death. In doing so, she relies on book 6 of Cicero’s De re publica, in particular the Somnium Scipionis. This raises further questions about the narrative development of met.’s ending, where the author finds parallels between Aeneid / Somnium and Ovid’s epic: the Milky Way, as the abode of the divine, is prominent in both. Aeneas / Augustus’ ascension to the stars is yet to come in the Aeneid / Somnium complex, but it has already occurred in met. The civil war against Antony has not yet happened either, as was predicted to Aeneas at the end of the Aeneid; that war has already been fought, under the guise of the battle against the Giants, when Augustus / Jupiter makes his appearance in the action of met. 1. The same is true with other elements of met., above all, the episode of Lycaon (esp. met. 1.200): according to Nadeau, this refers to a plot against the life of Augustus. She relates it to the words si impias propinquorum manus effugeris (Cic, rep. 6.12) by repeating the conjunction “manus impia”. In other words, by referring to a plot against Augustus’ life in terms reminiscent of Somnium Scipionis and the katabasis of Aeneid 6, Ovid shows that he understands the affinity and intertextuality of those texts. Chinnici (208) studies Homer’s influence on the first verses of met. 12, which he also compares to Cicero’s version of those verses in de div. 2.63–4. In addition, he notes how Ovid uses Cicero to thematically integrate the Homeric text. d. ‘Ovid and Ovid’ 221.  J. T. Davis, “Risit Amor: Aspects of Literary Burlesque in Ovid’s Amores”, ANRW II 31.4, 1981, 2460–506. 222.  M. Paschalis, “Parody of Homer in Ovid. Met. I,178–180”, Dodone 10, 1981, 9–22. 223. J.  M. Frécaut, “L’épisode de Pasiphaé dans l’Art d’aimer d’Ovide (I,289–326)”, in R.  Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 17–30 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 224.  A. G. Nikolaidis, “The figure of Medea in the works of Ovid”, in Πανελλήνιο Συμπόσιο Λατινικών Σπουδών. Θέμα: Λογοτεχνία και πολιτική στα χρόνια του Αυγούστου, Γιάννενα, 5–6 Νοέμβριου, Iannina 1982, 105–23. 225.  J. M. Frécaut, “Une scène ovidienne en marge de l’Odyssée. Ulysse et Calypso (Art d’aimer II,123–124)”, in H. Zehnacker, G.  Hentz (eds.), Hommages à Robert Schilling, Paris 1983, 287–95. 226.  B. Németh, “Caelestia sacra. Zur Frage des ovidischen Selbstbewusstseins”, ACD 19, 1983, 67–74.

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227.  C. E. Murgia, “Imitation and authenticity in Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.477 and Heroides 15”, AJPh 106, 1985, 456–74. 228.  G. Baldo, “Il codice epico nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, MD 16, 1986, 109–31. 229. C. E. Murgia, “The date of Ovid’s Ars Amatoria 3”, AJPh 107, 1986, 74–94. 230.  S. Hinds, The Metamorphosis of Persephone, Cambridge 1987, 99–134. Reviews: M. von Albrecht, AJPh 109, 1988, 461–3; W. S. M. Nicoll, CR 38, 1988, 245–7; W. Anderson, Gnomon 61, 1989, 356–8; J. Fabre, REL 66, 1988, 312; D. F. Kennedy, JRS 79, 1989, 209–10; B. R. Nagle, CW 82, 1989, 449–50; R. A. Tucker, CB 64, 1989, 102; S. Viarre, AC 58, 1989, 339–40; B. Rochette, LEC 58, 1990, 402–3; R. F. Thomas, CPh 85, 1990, 77–80; D. Porte, RPh 65, 1991, 71–2. 231.  F. Bömer, “Über das zeitliche Verhältnis zwischen den Fasten und den Metamorphosen Ovids”, Gymnasium 95, 1988, 207–21. 232.  C. E. Newlands, “Ovid’s Ravenous Raven”, CJ 86, 1991, 244–55. 233.  K. S. Myers, Ovid’s Causes: Cosmogony and Aetiology in the Metamorphoses, Ann Arbor 1994. Reviews: D. F. Kennedy, G&R 42, 1995, 227; S. M. Wheeler, BMCR 1995.03.31; S. J. Harrison, CR 46, 1996, 24–5; M. W. Musgrove, AJPh 117, 1996, 338–41; W. S. Anderson, CW 90, 1997, 61; J. Loehr, IJCT 4, 1998, 629–31. 234.  S. Hinds, Allusion and Intertext: Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Cambridge 1998. Reviews: M. Gale, G&R 46, 1998, 239–40; R. Lyne, TLS 4975, 1998, 30; C. Nappa, BMCR 98.9.8; G. Conte, JRS 89, 1999, 217–20; M. Lowrie, CW 92, 1999, 384–5; P. A. Miller, CPh 94, 1999, 351–5; J. J. O’Hara, CR 49, 1999, 97–8; P. Tordeur, AC 68, 1999, 395; G. Tronchet, REA 101, 1999, 226–8; J. E. G. Zetzel, Phoenix 53, 1999, 171–3; S. Raimondi, Faventia 22, 2000, 165–7; A.  Deremetz, Latomus 60, 2001, 783–4; B.  Mota, Euphrosyne 30, 2002, 449–50; M.  Negri, Athenaeum 90, 2002, 301–3. 235. S. Viarre, “Doublets mythologiques chez Ovide: de l’Art d’aimer aux Métamorphoses”, in D. Porte, J.-P. Néraudau (eds.), Res sacrae. Hommages à Henri LeBonniec, Bruxelles 1988, 441–8. 236.  M. C. Bolton, The Characterization of Medea, Dido, Ariadne and Deianira in Ovid’s Heroides and Metamorphoses, Hamilton (Ca) 1989. 237.  M. Janan, “The Labyrinth and the Mirror. Incest and Influence in Metamorphoses 9”, Arethusa 24, 1991, 239–56, 238.  S. Hinds, “Medea in Ovid: scenes from the life of an intertextual heroine”, MD 30, 1993, 9–47. 239.  K. S. Myers, “Ultimus ardor. Pomona and Vertumnus in Ovid’s Met. 14.623– 771”, CJ 89, 1993/94, 225–50.

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240.  M. Hoefmans, “Myth into Reality: the Metamorphosis of Daedalus and Icarus (Ovid, Metamorphoses, VIII, 183–235)”, AC 63, 1994, 137–60. 241.  S. M. Wheeler, “Ovid’s use of Lucretius in Metamorphoses 1.67–8”, CQ 45, 1995, 200–3. 242.  W. R. Johnson, “The rapes of Callisto”, CJ 92, 1996, 9–24. 243.  A. Barchiesi, “Endgames: Ovid’s Metamorphoses 15 and Fasti 6”, in D. H. Roberts, F. M. Dunn, D. P. Fowler (eds.), Classical closure: reading the end in Greek and Latin literature, Princeton (N. J.) 1997, 181–208. 244.  J. Den Boeft, “Ovidius’ Metamorphosen: na de Ars amatoria een epos amatorium?”, Lampas 30, 1997, 20–32. 245.  O. S. Due, “Ulysses and Aeneas in Ovid”, C&M 48, 1997, 345–58. 246.  L. Landolfi, “Le molte Arianne di Ovidio: intertestualità e intratestualità in Her. 10; Ars 1, 525–564; Met. 8, 172–182; Fast. 3, 459–516”, QUCC 57, 1997, 139–72. 247.  S. Marruzzino, “Per amore di Deianira (Ov. Epist. 9, 139–142)”, Orpheus 18, 1997, 459–73. 248.  R. Roncali, “Ovidio, il mito di Dedalo e il tiranno”, QS 23, 1997, 45–58. 249.  A. Brazouski, “«Indicium» in the works of Ovid”, SyllClass 9, 1998, 86–94. 250.  R. Faber, “Daedalus, Icarus, and the fall of Perdix: continuity and allusion in Metamorphoses 8. 183–259”, Hermes 126, 1998, 80–9. 251.  J. Farrell, “Reading and writing the Heroides”, HSCPh 98, 1998, 307–38. 252.  M. R. Salzman, “Deification in the Fasti and the Metamorphoses”, in C. Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin literature and Roman history IX, Bruxelles 1998, 313–46. 253.  S. Hinds, “After Exile: Time and Teleology from Metamorphoses to Ibis”, in P. Hardie, A. Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations. Essays on Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambrigde 1999, 48–67. 254.  B. Pavlock, “Daedalus in the Labyrinth of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, CW 92, 1998/99, 141–57. 255.  R. Häussler, “Rund ums Dreieck: Ovid über Mars, Venus und Vulcanus”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, I, 205–36. 256.  G. Danesi Marioni, “La «gioia» del trionfo: nota testuale a Consolatio ad Liuiam 279 e Ovidio, Met. 1.560”, Prometheus 25, 1999, 181–4. 257.  D. C. Feeney, “Mea tempora: patterning of time in the Metamorphoses”, in P. Hardie, A. Barchiesi, S. Hinds (eds.), Ovidian Transformations. Essays on Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its Reception, Cambridge 1999, 13–30. 258.  M. Scaffai, “Mirra in Ovidio, tra elegia  e tragedia (Met. 10, 298 sgg.)”, InvLuc 21, 1999, 371–87. 259.  H.-P. Schönbeck, “Erfüllung und Fluch des Künstlertums: Pygmalion und Daedalus bei Ovid”, Philologus 143, 1999, 300–16.

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260.  K. Zarzycka-Stanczak, «Idem aliter»: przybliżenia owidiańskie, Lublin 1999. Review: L. Castagna, Aevum 75, 2001, 194–6. 261.  S. Raval, “A lover’s discourse: Byblis in Metamorphoses 9”, Arethusa 34, 2001, 285–311. 262.  Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “Cruce de géneros en las Metamorfosis: Medea entre épica y tragedia”, in A. López, A. Pociña (eds.), Medeas. Versiones de un mito desde Grecia hasta hoy, Granada 2002, I, 411–45. 263.  A. Keith, “Sources and genres in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 1–5”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston-Köln 2002, 235–69. 264.  S. Daams, Epische und elegische Erzählung bei Ovid: Ars amatoria und Metamorphosen, München 2003. 265.  M. Bate, “Tempestuous poetry: storms in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Heroides and Tristia”, Mnemosyne 57, 2004, 295–310. 266.  M. Korenjak, “Vom primus amor zur fama perennis: Amores 1 in den Metamorphosen”, WJA 28, 2004, 85–90. 267.  J. B. DeBrohun, “Centaurs in love and war: Cyllarus and Hylonome in Ovid’s Metamorphoses 12.393–428”, AJPh 125, 2004, 417–52. 268.  E. Merli, “Esculapio e Chirone in fasti e metamorfosi: tradizione mitologica e definizione del genere letterario”, Hermes 132, 2004, 459–71. 269.  I. Frings, Das Spiel mit eigenen Texten. Wiederholung und Selbstzitat bei Ovid, München 2005 (Zetemata 124). Reviews: S. Adam, AAHG 60, 2007, 189–91; F. Grewing, Gymnasium 114, 2007, 272–4; O. Poltera, MH 64, 2007, 245; P. Tordeur AC 76, 2007, 330–1; J. Burbidge, BMCR 2008.09.31; S. Clément-Tarantino, BAGB 2008, 218–23; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 80, 2008, 357–8; M. Öhrman, CR 59, 2009, 298–9. 270.  G. Tissol, “Maimed books and maimed authors: Tristia 1. 7 and the fate of the Metamorphoses”, in W. W. Batstone, G. Tissol (eds.), Defining genre and gender in Latin literature. Essays presented to William S. Anderson on his seventy-fifth birthday, New York 2005, 97–112. 271.  S. J. Huskey, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses in Tristia I, 1”, in C.  Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin literature and Roman history XIII, Bruxelles 2006, 335–57. 272.  S. Kyriakidis, “From the Metamorphoses to the Fasti: catalogues of proper names”, in J.  Booth, R.  Maltby (eds.), What’s in  a name? The significance of proper names in classical Latin literature, Swansea 2006, 101–19. 273.  S. Kyriakidis, Catalogues of proper names in Latin epic poetry: Lucretius, Virgil, Ovid, Newcastle 2007. Review: C. Francese, BMCR 2009.01.08. 274.  M. Korenjak, “Metamorphoses: Amores 1, die Metamorphosen und Ovids Lebenswerk”, in I. Tar, P.  Mayer (eds.), Klassizismus und Modernität. Beiträge der internationalen Konferenz in Szeged (11.–13. September 2003), Szeged 2007, 135–44.

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275.  T. Gärtner, “Untersuchungen zum Io-Mythos in der lateinischen Dichtung”, Prometheus 34, 2008, 257–74. 276.  E. Tola, “Ovide-Actéon: les risques métamorphiques du regard des Métamorphoses aux Tristes”, Euphrosyne 36, 2008, 37–48. 277.  S. Casali, “Ovidian Intertextuality”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Malden, Ma-Oxford 2009, 341–54. 278.  V. K. Vaïopoulos, “Hypermestra as seen by Ovid in Epist. 14”, Eikasmos 20, 2009, 199–222. 279.  C. Battistella, “Momenti intertestuali nell’Ibis”, SIFC 8, 2010, 179–202. 280.  R. Heinze, Il racconto elegiaco di Ovidio. Trad. italiana di Corrado Travan; con una premessa di Franco Serpa; ed. a cura di Simona Ravalico, Trieste 2010. Reviews: J. A. Bellido Díaz, ExClass 14, 2010, 375–8; B. Larosa, BMCR 2010.10.43; S. Viarre, REL 89, 2011, 371; D. Ghira, Maia 64, 2012, 410–12; A. Arena, Latomus 72, 2013, 1149–51. 281.  C. Battistella, “Genere  e intertestualità in Ovidio: qualche riflessione su Met. 13.771–5; Her. 14.45–50; Ibis 153–8”, Dictynna 8, 2011.(http://journals. openedition.org/dictynna/685). 282.  J. Fabre-Serris, “L’histoire de Méléagre vue par Ovide ou De quoi le tison des Parques est-il l’emblème?”, EL 3–4, 2011, 149–65. 283.  K. Fletcher, “A handbook for the translation of Greek myth into Latin: Parthenius, Gallus, and the Erotica pathemata”, in S. McElduff, E. Sciarrino, Complicating the History of Western Translation. The Ancient Mediterranean in Perspective, Manchester, UK & Kinderhook (NY) USA 2011, 12–24 284.  J. D. Hejduk, “Death by elegy: Ovid’s Cephalus and Procris”, TAPhA 141, 2011, 285–314. 285.  C. Battistella, “La verità delle Muse: un dittico ovidiano (met. 5.250–664 e fast. 5.1–110)”, MusHelv 69, 2012, 96–102. 286.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Nei cieli di Icaro e Fetonte, tra antico e moderno (Ovidio, Seneca, Dante, poeti del ‘500, D’Annunzio”, in S. Audano, G. Cipriani (eds), Aspetti della Fortuna dell’antico nella Cultura europea. Atti dell’Ottava Giornata di Studi, Foggia 2012, 103–27. 287.  G. Williams, “Medea in Metamorphoses 7: magic, moreness and the maius opus”, Ramus 41, 2012, 49–70. 288.  J. Farrell, “Complementarity and Contradiction in Ovidian Mythography”, in S. M. Trzaskoma, R. S. Smith (eds.), Writing Myth: Mythography in the Ancient World, Leuven-Paris-Walpole, MA, 2013, 223–251 289.  M. Frisch, “Ariadne: eine Frau zwischen Heros und Gott”, AU 56, 2013, 26–37. 290. S. Kyriakidis, “The poet’s afterlife: Ovid between epic and elegy”, in T. D.  Papanghelis, S. J. Harrison, S. Frangoulidis (eds.), Generic Interfaces in Latin

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literature. Encounters, Interactions and Transformations, Berlin-Boston 2013, 351–66 (Trends in Classics – Supplementary Volumes 20). 291.  U. Schmitzer, “Inspice maius opus: Ovidio a proposito delle sue Metamorfosi”, Paideia 68, 2013, 605–37. 292.  U. Schmitzer, “Strategien der Selbstkanonisierung bei Ovid”, in U. Schmit­ zer (ed.), Enzyklopädie der Philologie. Themen und Methoden der Klassischen Philologie heute, Göttingen 2013, 51–83 (Vertumnus 11). 293.  W. Scholl, Der Daphnis-Mythos und seine Entwicklung. Von den Anfängen bis zu Vergils vierter Ekloge, Hildesheim-Zürich-New York 2014 (Spudasmata 157). Reviews: U.  Reinhardt, AAHG 67, 2014, 112–15; A.  Encuentra, CFC(L) 35, 2015, 380–3; G. Scafoglio, BMCR 2015.09.30; W. Schubert, MH 72, 2015, 233–4; H. Bannert, WS 129, 2016, 347–8; F. Overduin, Mnemosyne 70, 2017 1073–6. The most reasonable way to approach this section is to organise it according to the referenced works about Ovid. However, we must start with  a substantial and comprehensive monograph, possibly unique of its kind, about self-references: the book by Frings (269). Ovid is probably the classical author who makes most frequent use of self-quotes, or imitation of his own previous work. The book is structured in three main parts: an introductory section (10–64); a section on self-imitation within individual Ovidian works (65–100); and a third, which deals with self-citation of one Ovidian work in another (101–262). This third part, probably the most appropriate to this section, is in turn subdivided into several sections: first, a study of self-imitation among the various works on erotic or elegiac themes (101–63); second, the analysis of the intertextualities of these elegiac works in met. (163–210); and third, she considers how the exile poetry uses allusion to both the earlier erotic elegies and met. itself (210–62). A smaller work in this respect, and worth mentioning if only to include all aspects, is Murgia’s article (229). He establishes the following chronology of similar poetic imitations: ars 1–2 (1st ed.), rem. (1st ed.), am. (2nd ed.), met. 1–7, ars 3 (with the 2nd ed. of ars 1–2), rem. (2nd ed.). About chronology see also Bömer (231), for Fasti and met. The article by Schmitzer (291) tends towards the entire picture: he attempts to study all the occasions when Ovid expresses his taste for poetic self-reflection in his verses. The author considers the poet’s efforts to define his own work as a unified whole regardless of the themes, genres and the moment of composition. All this is studied in Amores, Fasti, met. and the poetry of exile. A further step in these reflections can be found in (292). Amores Davis (221), considering Ovid’s treatment of elegy, makes an analysis using a meticulous comparison of this work with his version of “The Courtship of Polyphemus” (met. 13.750–869), an episode in which literary burlesque is generally acknowledged.

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Paschalis (222) quotes Ovid. met. 1.178–80, where the portrait of Jupiter parodies Il. 1.528 ff. and recalls an initial Homeric caricature of Ovid himself, in am. 3.1.31–2. In the above-mentioned work by Knox (187), he points out that the story of Apollo and Daphne is particularly important as the episode that marks the transition from cosmogony to mythological narrative. Moreover, this is in an intentional reminiscence of Amores 1.1, where Cupid again usurps the role of Apollo, who is portrayed as the victimised lover of elegy. Ovid’s presentation of this story indicates strongly that the themes that interested him as elegy dominate the subsequent tales. The above-cited work by Papanghelis (200) (vid. supra on Propertius) also mentions literary uses as signposts of the exiguus literary genre in Ov. am. 3.1.39–40, fast. 2.3–4 and 4.526. The work by Baldo (228), also quoted above, links the episode of the loves of Mars and Venus in met. 4.167–89 and am. 2.577–8, based especially on Hom. Od. 8.266–369. Janan’s article (237) is very suggestive: in the section “Byblis: the Master’s Mirror” (pp. 245–8), he devises a comparison between the lover of Amores and Byblis’ own feelings. Ovidian elegy shapes his experience and emphasises the sexual and literary self-love of the whole episode. Ovid holds up the mirror of his own works as the model of Byblis’ love, and here too, models from Heroides and Ars amatoria appear. Brazouski (249) studies the term indicium in Amores, Ars amatoria, Fasti, met. and Tristia. In the author’s opinion, Ovid reflects, consciously or unconsciously, on the growing importance of complainants, and the consequent hatred and fear of them during Augustus’ reign. The indicium, in the legal sense of ‘giving information against another’, was part of the Roman judicial system. The Lex Iulia de Maiestate of 18 bce encouraged the reporting of treasonous activities against the person and / or power of the emperor and his family, which led to the appearance of those who were later called delatores. The author reports that Augustus suppressed several conspiracies through indicium. Keith’s also-cited chapter (263) is mentioned here because of its contributions to the mixing of genres in the Phaethon episode. For the author, the conclusion of the Phaethon episode in book 2 offers a set of elegiac reflections by way of a re-elaboration of elements of Amores within the epic action, since Phaethon’s death transforms the tone and content of the episode from epic to elegiac. This is also the line expressed in the book by Daams (264). A further example of the relations between literary genres is the article by Korenjak (214). Ovid seeks to create these links between his works through numerous references. Thus, in the line of Knox (187), he traces the links between met. 1.2 (nam vos mutastis), a verse with which the narrator transfers the responsibility of his new literary plans, and the meter of the hexameter, to the gods; and am. 1.1, where Cupid steals an epic foot from Ovid, which he makes elegiac. The author also points out that the introduction to the story of Apollo and Daphne, which functions as a kind of second beginning to the work, also links Ovid to the god of love in am. Furthermore, he adds the link between the sphragis of am 1.15.42 and the end of met.: vivam. These same ideas are essentially repeated in (266) and (274).

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Battistella (281) examines met. 13.771–5, epist. 14.45–50 and Ibis 153–8, attempting to show, in the case of met., how the generic possibilities of the text and its semantic nuances can be better explained through the recognition of intra- and intertextual moments. She thus studies the appearance of altera iam rapuit (13.775) as an elegiac-type procedure already present in am. 2.19.19 quae nostros rapuisti nuper ocellos. Heroides Myers (239), especially in third section of her article, sets out a considerable number of thematic similarities between the beginnings and endings of Fasti and met. Gärtner’s article (275), especially in its intial part, deals with the myth of Io as first seen in epist. 14.85–108. Ovid is interested in the psychological reaction of the character; later this is amplified by the increased presence of characters in met. 1.588–746, where  a mature poet shows his linguistic mastery of this ‘Kumulationsprodukt’ (p. 267). Gärtner’s rejection of the seclusion of verse 638, as advocated by Tarrant on the basis of the parallel with epist. 14.92, is key to the author’s analysis (198). Gärtner suggests junctures from other passages (am. 1.3.21, epist. 14.101–6) to admit this verse, since it is also found in the entire handwritten transmission. In his thesis, Lake (164) also examines the parodic treatment of Perseus as it appears in Ovid’s other works, especially Heroides and Ars. The myth is often used in parodic contexts, and in situations that question the credibility of the poets. Additionally, this story appears several times in poems that criticise the use of myth in Augustan imagery. Perseus’ mother, Danae, is one of Ovid’s favourite examples of an impudent woman, the antithesis of the Augustan ideal. Nikolaidis (224) presents us with a comparative study of epist. 12 and met. 7.1–99, and the Greek versions of the myth in the hands of Euripides and Apollonius. Murgia (227) deals with the authenticity of verse 1.477 (vitta coercebat positos sine lege capillos). He defends, against Tarrant, its authenticity by its relationship with epist. 4.77, met. 1.476 ff. and met. 2.411 ff. Bolton (236) presents  a monograph that studies the characterisation of Medea, Dido, Ariadne and Deianira, first presented in Heroides, and later appearing in met. Ovid adapts the mythological details of his heroines to create completely new representations, which vary from Heroides to met. due to the demands of the respective genres and the desired emphasis. The chapter by Álvarez and Iglesias (262) is also about Medea: their analysis starts with Greek authors (such as Hesiod, Pindar and Apollonius), focusing on Medea’s appearance in met., the versions she assumes from her Greek precedents, and the magic scene, that is, all the ‘epic’ elements. The authors make an original attempt to ‘rescue’ Ovid’s tragedy Medea from met. 7.609–42. Although only to justify the authenticity of epist. 12, Hinds (238) raises a series of critical considerations about Knox’s interpretation of this letter. He claims Ovidian authorship of the epistle based on the intertextuality of Medea’s character, through external and internal comparisons with Ovid’s production. Due (245) uses the appearances of Penelope and Dido in Heroides as a starting point for the analysis of Ulysses and Aeneas in met. The female gaze used by Penelope offers

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an interesting interpretation, where the wife’s anxiety and the impatient woman’s desire can be read. Dido’s presentation is less successful, because Ovid has trouble distinguishing himself from Virgil. The article by Landolfi (246), which analyses the appearance of Ariadne in epist. 10, ars 1.525–64, met. 8.172–82 and fast. 3.459–516, is an intertextual and intratextual study aimed at understanding the different vision with which Ovid observes the same character, in relation to his model in Catullus’ poem 64. In all four cases, Ovid has rewritten the story of Theseus’ betrayal. The physiognomy of the heroine can vary, not simply due to taste for variation, but rather because of interest in confronting the female ethos. This is unpredictable in manifestations of love and anger, and above all, because of the norms that regulate the literary genre in which the figure of Ariadne is located. Of a textual nature, the article by Marruzzino (247) defends certain readings in epist. 9, among them accubuit v. 141, instead of occubuit, as in met. 12.45. Although Farrell’s article (251) seems to focus more on the analysis of female letter-writing (Heroides), as texts supposedly produced by women penning missives about their own desire, he compares these with ‘deceptive’ letters written by men (ars 1.437–58), with the purpose of ‘deceiving’ the object of their own desire. But there is more: despite the rhetorical character of these poems, the heroines of the letters seem to be speaking from the heart. Furthermore, if the lack of  a narrative framework in Heroides obscures this fact, it may become visible again if we examine a parallel passage: the heroic epistle that is embedded in met. 9, where Ovid tells the story of Byblis. Here we have a narrative framework from which to investigate the issue of sincerity, and even to re-analyse the Heroides by studying the passage. From this point of view, the analysis of Byblis’ passion in met. 9 could illuminate the study of Heroides. Scaffai’s article (258) relates Myrrha’s story in met. 10.298 ff. with Heroides, especially with epist. 4 (Phaedra). He points out that the extreme ambiguity of the story and the use of ambiguous language, rich in double meanings, brings it closer to tragic dialogues. Zarzycka-Stanczak’s book (260) is an approach to Ovid, his corpus eroticum and met. 15. Interested in the theme of intertextuality, especially in the Ovid-Virgil line, the author discusses the relations between met. and Aeneis, and especially also the relations between Heroides and met. In the end, she raises the possibility that the cause of the relegatio is met. and not Ars. Raval (261) presents the story of Byblis, who is in love with her brother Caunus, in met. 9.468–665, relating it to Heroides and Ars. The heroine’s monologues and love affairs are inspired by both works, as well as by Latin elegy in general. Ovid’s contribution is to stage the intervention of a female desire subject, which transgresses her gender condition. Although the allusion is very brief, it is also worth mentioning the article by Vaïopoulos (278): Hypermestra includes, in verses 85–108, the story of Io, reflecting an essay on the evolution of Ovid’s poetics towards the myth and aetiological poetry of met.

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Williams’ article (287) examines Medea in epist. 12 and met. 7. The Medea of Heroides is situated as the starting point of Ovid’s ‘Medeas’, including his tragedy Medea. Elegy does not seem to be the most suitable means to exploit all the subject’s possibilities. Epist. 12 concludes by looking for  a wider development: nescioquid certe mens mea maius agit, thus giving  a metapoetic meaning to the last distiches (epist. 12.209–12). For Williams, tracking Medea’s life story in met. 7 highlights the aspects that put her out of Ovid’s control in met., a situation which is only resolved when she leaves the poem. Frisch’s (289) work on Ariadne presents a series of lessons on the myth (epist. 10; fast. 3.459–516; ars 1.525–64 and 3.35–6; met. 8.169–82) and is more of  a school type: worksheets with the edited text, illustrations,  a map and  a list of additional required vocabulary. Ars amatoria Frécaut (223) reflects on the function and meaning of ars 2.123–4, and its relation to the Ovidian concept of love in met. From the same author (225), we see the appearance of Pasiphae in ars 1.289–326 and met. Viarre (235) outlines a comparative study of two subjects examined in ars and re­considered in met.: the legend of Daedalus and Icarus (ars 2.21–96 and met. 8.183–261) and the story of Cephalus and Procris (ars 3.685–746 and met. 7.661–865), with a view to Ovid’s epic and elegiac treatment of the myths. For Daedalus in Ars and met., see also Roncali (248). Faber’s article (250) is another examination of this same double story of Ars and met. The author warns of the moralising tone absent in ars 2.21–96 and present in met.: Daedalus suffers the loss of his son as punishment for his own ungodly behaviour, by transgressing the restrictions on human invention and ignoring the power of the gods. The subsequent episode reinforces the description of Daedalus as a contemptor divum: the death of Icarus becomes his sanction for the attempted murder of Perdix. The author also points out the differences in length of the elegiac model’s speech and simile, as opposed to the development in met.: the father’s advice is reduced from fourteen lines (ars 2.51–64) to five (met. 8.203–8), while the simile is extended from one (ars 2.66) to three (met. 8.213–16). The reference to Ars Amatoria by Pavlock (254) could not be left out, although it is more dedicated to Horace (104) and Propertius (204). Ovid resorts to his own earlier version (ars 2.22 ff.), repeating several lines of the previous passage to the letter. However, the poet changes his perspective, for example in his description of the island of Calymne: silvisque umbrosa (ars 2.81) to fecundaque melle (met. 8.222), with a double etymological play from κάλυμμα. He adds the alteration in considering Daedalus: the praeceptor of Ars shows Daedalus in a positive light, whereas in met. the character of Daedalus’ wings is sharpened as a hubristic violation of the kingdom that belongs to the gods. The author adjoins another series of comparisons in this respect. Although referencing the possible influence of Lucretius on met. 8.186–9, ­Hoef­mans (240) also points out the repetition of the theme in ars 2.37–42.

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Wheeler’s article (241), while focussed on Lucretius, refers in passing to the fact that the words haec super inposuit liquidum et gravitate carentem / aethera (met. 1.67–8) are a self-reference to ars 2.469 ff. Den Boeft (244) compares met., as an epic poem whose main, but not only, theme, is love, with Ars. He debates the genre of met., addressing the question of to what extent Ovid’s elegiac poetry left its mark on the epic poem. Häussler’s article (255) considers the story of Venus and Mars, and Vulcan, in different works by Ovid, especially ars 2.561–600 and met. 4.167–89, focusing on the context of the literary genre’s story. Schönbeck (259) brings up the comparison of Daedalus and Icarus in Ars and met., but he also adds an interpretation of the Pygmalion story (met. 10.243–97). The ruin of Daedalus comes linked to his own skill; Pygmalion, however, succeeds because he resorts to an inspiring divine power, instead of trusting and progressing further with his own possibilities. The book by Daams (264) focuses on the myths of Venus and Mars, and of Cephalus and Procris. She tries to answer the question of whether epic and elegiac narratives can be clearly distinguished, starting with Ars amatoria, and examines the linguistic style and content, as well as the intertextual elements. Ars is also the subject of comparison in DeBrohun’s above-mentioned work (267), this time for the connection between the two centaurs in love (Cyllarus and Hylonome) in met. 12.393–428 and ars 3.133–98. Hejduk (284) examines how Ovid manipulates the elegiac trio of love, art and sickness (wound / cure), exemplified with the story of Cephalus and Procris in ars 3.685–746 and met. 7.490–8.5. The centre of much of this triangle of art, love, and medicine is Apollo, the god of poetry and healing (rem. 76, 251–2). She studies how Apollo is reflected in the stories of Cephalus and Procris, located at the end of ars (3.685–746) and in the centre of met. (7.490–8.5). Such love, especially in its manifestation as erotic poetry, can be lethal, and victims can only survive by becoming works of art. Finally, she demonstrates how Apollo’s loves in met. have significant similarities to Cephalus’ narrative, especially in the deaths and artistic transformations of his love objects, and relates this to Ovid as an elegiac hero in his own life. Fletcher (283) studies the myth of Byblis based on the Ἐρωτικὰ Παθήματα of Parthenius. Ovid used this story on three occasions: ars 1.283–4, where Ovid’s account most closely resembles Parthenius; Ibis 355–6, in which Byblis is in the group of mythical figures who transgressed proper familial boundaries; and met. 9, where Ovid expands on Byblis’ incestuous love and focuses on her composition of a letter to her brother. In addition, the already-cited book by Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (286) addresses the relationships between the myths of Icarus and Phaethon in Ars and met. The story of Daedalus and Icarus has didactic implications in itself, insofar as one element, Icarus, loses his life for not respecting his father’s prudent advice. Daedalus, meanwhile, pays for the loss of his son, having hoped with his invention to overcome the limits imposed on man by the gods. In the opening of the second book of Ars, the mythological excursus is inspired, artificially, by the challenge of imposing the modus

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on Love’s free flight: the need to respect the measure arises, then, from the story itself. Numerous symbolic interpretations of the myth of Icarus have been attempted, particularly in Ars, since in this work the poet himself is presented as  a magister, illustrating the art of love, as an artifex. Icarus falls into the sea (ars 2.83–4, 91–6 and met. 8.223–5, 229–35), but a basic ambiguity arises from the two examples describing the young man’s demise: he appears to be the victim of reckless imprudence in Ars, but also a bold experimenter of flying in met. The comparison with Phaethon here is compelling: an ambitious young man, who proudly asked his father if he could drive the chariot of the Sun, and who, through his inexperience, later risked involving the entire cosmos in a catastrophic conflagration. It becomes evident that the myth of Phaethon lends itself to more demanding symbolic interpretations than that of Icarus: the exemplum can be used as a paradigm of the incapable and irresponsible monarch. He rules by governing the state and is the chariot of the Sun, and is therefore attached to the symbolism of power in Rome. These links do not escape ancient readers. Moreover, Ovid himself uses all this symbolism in an autobiographical function in the exile poems, thus in trist. 1.1.79–80, 87–90 and, above all, 3.4. In his meticulous monograph, Scholl (293) refers very briefly to the appearances of Daphnis (of whose history he distinguishes up to seven versions): in Ovid ars 1.732, where he is used as an example to illustrate the pallor of lovers; and in met. 4.276–8, where it is highlighted that he was turned into a rock. Tristia Degl’Innocenti Pierini (7, 31–5) cites in “Appendice I, per il testo di met. 12,543” a passage from trist. 3.11.33–6, to replace restringere, from met. 12.543, with rescindere. Németh (226) mentions trist. 4.10.19 in relation to the needs that Prometheus formulates for man in book 1 of met., where Ovid expresses his ideal life: an existence dedicated to contemplation and the search for truth. In a study of the indication of time, Feeney (257) analyses the mention of mea … tempora in met. 1.4. After he examines writings on chronology by Nepos, Atticus and Varro, among others, the author contends that Ovid rejects conventional time structures so that canonical chronological schemes are put under pressure in met., since Ovid wants to create space for uncertainty. mea … tempora in met. 1.4 means not ‘our times’ but emphatically ‘my times’, as seen when Ovid adapts these words in trist. 2.560, telling Augustus that his met. was written in tua tempora. This also means that the teleology of the Aeneis for Augustus is seriously compromised by Ovid. Although also including some examples of Heroides, the most numerous examples that Bate (265) raises are from Tristia. He tries to study the appearance of the storm as a literary topic in different works by Ovid: the flood in met. 1; Ceyx and Alcyone in met. 11; Hero and Leander in epist. 18–19; and the three storm poems of the first book of Tristia (1.2, 1.4, 1.11). The verbal and thematic connections between the passages are highlighted, as well as the problems posed by their appearance in different literary genres, and even the symbolic capacity of the storm to represent psychic conflicts in Alcyone, Leander and Ovid in exile himself.

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The article by Tissol (270), rather than intertextual motifs, examines the famous trist. 1.7, where Ovid asks a friend to look after his writing, especially met. Ovid is defending his own literary reputation here, and claiming its canonical place. In some ways the chapter by Huskey (271) is linked to Tissol’s previous article, insofar as Huskey analyses the appearances of Ovid’s literary production in trist. 1.1, and of his references to met. and to different myths. Kyriakidis (290) offers a detailed analysis of trist. 1.7, based on Ovid’s preoccupation with destiny in met. Tola’s article (276) establishes a comparison between the end of Tristia 2 and the Actaeon episode narrated in met. 3.138–252. Actaeon was punished for seeing Diana naked; the poet’s misfortune was also a visual fault that brought him the punishment of exile: crimen in illo / non scelus invenies; quod enim scelus error habebat?, as Ovid says in met. 3.141–2; immo ita, si scitis, si me meus abstulit error, as the poet recounts in trist. 1.2.99. Fasti Landolfi (9), in his extensive article, also examines how Ovid treats the myth of Europa in met. 2.846–75 and in fast. 5.605–20. In met. the end of Europa’s story is not recounted; Ovid relates its continuation in fast. (pp. 505–6). As Heinze had already indicated (“Ovids elegische Erzählung”, in Vom Geist des Römertums, Stuttgart 1960 = in Sitz. Ber. Akad. Leipzig, phil.-hist. Kl. 71, 1919, 350–1 n. 79), when Ovid repeats the myth in both works, he changes the tone of the narration. In met. the tone is epic, while in fast. the mood is more sentimental (p. 507). In fast. Ovid returns to a story that has already been told, highlighting Europa as the protagonist of the adventures narrated. In this version, Ovid is closer to Moschus and Horace (p. 518). Hinds (230) makes a comparison of Persephone in fast. 4 and met. 5., based on the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Newlands (232) considers the relationship between episodes of fast. 2.243–66 and met. 2.542–632, to see how they enlighten each other. Ovid uses the myth of the raven to play with Apollo’s typical role as a poetic mentor in an etiological, not an epic, poem. The poet chooses his words for their dual or multiple meanings and places them carefully so that, by mutual reference, they can suggest another level of meaning; in Fasti this helps to make a programmatic statement. Both myths of the raven occur in the second book of their respective poems; both are preceded by the account of Callisto’s rape and subsequent catasterisms (Fasti 2.153–92: met. 2.401–507). The comparison with met. thus serves to highlight the elegiac tendencies of the myth of the raven in Fasti. Plus, of course, this may well have been exactly what Ovid wanted at this time, when he was reaffirming the elegiac scope of this poem. Myers (233) also traces the possible relationships between Fasti and met., especially in etiological phraseology, etymological games, structural elements, the slowed-down time at the end of met., historical time, and religious themes of Fasti etc. Fast. 4.417–620 and met. 5.341–661 are also studied by Hinds (234), whose book we have already pointed out for other topics. His research here aims to re-examine the question of the differences in literary genre between the two narratives.

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Johnson (242) compares Ovid’s versions of the rape of Callisto in met. 2.409–530 and fast. 2.153–92, looking at the implications and meanings of the act in terms of patriarchy. Barchiesi (243) proposes  a comparison between the endings (closings) of met. and Fasti; the latter is the most notorious incomplete poem of all the classical texts. Barchiesi considers the breaking up to June 30 as a premeditated gesture. Furthermore, he adds that in two great projects, the Fasti and met., the ending offers the reader a political analogy; the closing strategies in met. are parodic. Salzman (252) compares the deifications that occur in met. and Fasti: the tone is clearly positive in Fasti, without lacking humour, as opposed to being openly ambiguous and ironic in met. Merli (268) poses  a comparison between met. 2.643–8, 649–54 (Ocyrrhoe’s prophecy) and fast. 6.759–62, 5.397–414, with similarities and differences, especially due to the distinct poetic genres. Kyriakidis (272) studies the appearance of catalogues of proper names (see also 176) in met. and Fasti, as preparation for a more extensive book on the same subject by different authors (273). Kyriakidis concludes that the catalogues of met. are less traditional than those of Fasti, where the poet often returns to more traditional models, through which he can oppose the very structure and essence of met. An accumulation of names indicates  a fast rhythm with little individual emphasis, while a wider spacing of them allows more insistence on each. Ovid uses the names to emphasise transience and mortality. Although he is discussing Ovid’s intertextuality in general, Casali (277) includes some examples from Fasti and met.: e.g. met. 14.812–15 and fast. 2.483–9 regarding Romulus’ apotheosis. He erroneously ascribes ll. 812–15 to book 15. Fabre-Serris (282) devotes his article to the development of the Meleager myth, and its thematic and lexical appearance in Fasti and met. The author analyses the narrative technique of the episodes featuring Meleagro in met. 8, and the developments contained therein of elements present, or simply suggested, in Fasti. Battistella (285) analyses the relationship between met. 5.250–664 and fast. 5.1–110, the disagreement of the Muses in Fasti regarding the etymology of the name of the month ‘May’, and the challenge of the Muses to the Pierides, who dared to compete with them in met. The ambiguity of the ‘truth of poetry’ is underlined. As an appendix to this section, the Italian translation (280) of Heinze’s famous book Ovids elegische Erzählung (Leipzig 1919) is mentioned here, as a starting point for the relations between Fasti (elegy) and met. (epic)  according to the narrative categories of δεινόν, which contemplates a solemn and balanced style, characteristic of hexametric poetry; and ἐλεινόν, which, conversely, provides a pathetic and familiar tone. Farrell (288), furthermore, incluides  a comparison of the list of Alban kings in met. 14.609–22 and in fast. 4.31–56 (232–9), and also refers to the presence of Arcadian mythology in these two poems.

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Others Hinds (253) continues the research of his previous work (21); this time he looks at “the Ovid of the elegies from exile as the first extant reader…to interpret and reprocess the Metamorphoses” (p. 48). He examines the references to the epic in Tristia and concludes that both met. and the Fasti can be read “as a kind of attempt to organize time”. The second part of the article is devoted to Ibis, its chronology, and the idea that it can be contemplated as a reorientation of his poetic career. The author suggests that in this work, Ovid perverts the temporal and teleological schemes of his previous works. Focusing on the relations between the beginning of Ibis and fast. 1.8.1–20, Battistella (281) also mentions the original Chaos as it appears at the beginning of met. (279) Fletcher (283) also studies the presence of Byblis in Ibis 355–6, where Ovid adopts a moralising tone. Vid. supra. For a link between the episode of Phaethon and Pont. 4.8.55–6, see also Robert (74), art and poetry; art and divinity, arte and creation of divnity. The article by Danesi Marioni (256) is of a textual nature and defends, on the basis of a comparison with the text of met. 1.560, that in the pseudo-Ovidian Consolatio ad Liviam 279, the reading laetisque should not be changed to lentisque.

VIII. Reception and Pervivence in Antiquity 1. Iconography 1.  I. Baldassarre, “Piramo  e Tisbe: dal mito all’immagine”, in L’art décoratif à Rome à la fin de la république et au debut du principat. Table Ronde organisée par l’École française de Rome (Rome, 10–11 mai 1979), Roma 1981, 337–47 (Collection de l’École Française de Rome 55). 2.  E. W. Leach, “Metamorphoses of the Actaeon myth in Campanian painting”, MDAI(R) 88, 1981, 307–27. 3.  *N. V. Vulikh, “Poéma Ovidiya ‘Metamorfozy’ i rimsko-italiiskaya stennaya zhivopis” (“Ovids Metamorphosen und die römisch-italische Wandmalerei”), Philologus 129, 1985, 99–108. 4.  J. Arce, “El mosaico de ‘Las metamorfosis’ de Carranque (Toledo)”, MDAI(M) 27, 1986, 365–74. 5.  H. V. Bender, The Literary Parallels for the Odyssean Groups in the Program of Sculpture at Sperlonga. Diss. Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey-Brunswick, 1987. 6.  P. E. Knox, “Pyramus and Thisbe in Cyprus”, HSPh 92, 1989, 315–28 (= P. E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Reading in Classical Studies. Ovid, Oxford 2006, 320–33). 7.  B. Andreae, Praetorium speluncae. Tiberius und Ovid in Sperlonga. MainzStuttgart 1994 (Abhandlungen der Geistes- und Sozialwissenschaftlichen Klasse / ​ Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur 12). Reviews: D. Willers, MH 52, 1995, 188; J. B. Hall, CR 46, 1996, 389–90; J. A. Higginbotham, AJA 100, 1996, 443; N.  Himmelmann, Gymnasium 103, 1996, 32–41; T. Lorenz, AAHG 49, 1996, 112–17; F. Baratte, AC 67, 1998, 557–9; P. Gros, Gnomon 70, 1998, 74–7; A. Malissard, Latomus 57, 1998, 963–5. 8.  D. Vaquerizo Gil, “El Hypnos de Almedinilla (Córdoba): aproximación formal e iconográfica”, MDAI(M) 35, 1994, 359–79. 9.  C. Zimmerman, The Pastoral Narcissus. A Study of the First Idyll of Theocritus, Lanham 1994. Review: N. Hopkinson, CR 45, 1995, 433. 10.  H. Hofmann, “Odysseus: Von Homer bis zu James Joyce”, in H. Hofmann (ed.), Antike Mythen in der europäischen Tradition, Tübingen 1999, 27–67. 11.  M. Nardelli, “Raffigurazioni mitologiche nella decorazione parietale dell’area vesuviana: Diana e Atteone”, Antenor 2, 2000, 53–88. 12.  B. Andreae, “Drei letzte Fragen zum ikonologischen Programm von Sperlonga”, in G. Brands et alii (eds.), Rom und die Provinzen. Gedenkschrift für Hanns Gabelmann, Mainz 2001, 35–42. 13.  A. Stramaglia, “Piramo e Tisbe prima di Ovidio? PMich inv. 3793 e la narrativa d’intrattenimento alla fine dell’età tolemaica”, ZPE 134, 2001, 81–106.

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14.  *A. Ya. Kakovkin, “Coptic Monuments Depicting a Heroine of Ovid’s Meta­ morphoses” (Russ.), Vestnik drevnej istorii (= Journal of Ancient History) 2003, 169–77. 15.  G. Sauron, “La peinture pompéienne et la poésie augustéenne”, REL 82, 2004, 144–66. 16.  H. Guiraud, “Entre la mer et le feu du soleil: Ovide, Met., VIII, 203”, Pallas 72, 2006, 369–76. 17.  I. Colpo, G. L. Grassigli, F.  Minotti, “Le ragioni di una scelta. Discutendo attorno alle immagini di Narciso  a Pompei”, Eidola 4, 2007, 73–118 (it contains three papers: I. Colpo, “Il mondo degli specchi e delle illusioni: immagini del canto di Narciso”, 173–9; F. Minotti, “Narciso senza narcisismo. Il mito di Narciso a Pompei”, 79–99; G. L. Grassigli, “Destrutturando Narciso. L’eco delle immagini”, 99–113; plus references: 114–18). 18.  J. Hodske, Mythologische Bildthemen in den Häusern Pompejis, Ruhpolding 2007. Reviews: L. Balensiefen, Thetis 15, 2008, 236–9; K. Lorenz, AJA 112, 2008, 777–8; M. E. Micheli, ArchClass 9, 2008, 481–4; P. C. Nadig, Gymnasium 115, 2008, 513–15; I. Bragantini, RA 1, 2009, 137–8; M. Hinterhöller, AAHG 63, 2010, 79–89. 19.  E. Simon, “Ovid und Pompeji”, Thetis 13–14, 2007, 149–54. 20.  I. Colpo, “‘Ambienti ovidiani’ nelle case vesuviane? Riflessioni preliminari”, Eidola 5, 2008, 65–81. 21.  F. Ghedini, “MetaMarS: mito, arte, società nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio: un progetto di ricerca”, Eidola 5, 2008, 47–64. 22.  F. Ghedini, “Ovidio e la cultura figurativa coeva: Apollo e Dafne”, in R. Bussi, S. Settis (eds.), Tracce dei luoghi, trace della storia. Scritti in onore di F. Cosimo Panini, Modena-Roma 2008, 357–77. 23.  M. Gindhart, “– Nárkissos – Narcissus – Narziss: Reflexionen und Brechungen eines Mythos”, in D. Klein, L. Käppel (eds.), Das diskursive Erbe Europas. Antike und Antikerezeption, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 2008, 25–62 (Kulturgeschichtliche Beiträge zum Mittelalter und der frühen Neuzeit 2). 24.  I. Colpo, “Temi ovidiani nel repertorio glittico. Dedalo e le ali di Icaro”, in G. Sena Chiesa, E. Gagetti (eds.), Aquileia e la glittica di età ellenistica e romana. Atti del Convegno “Il fulgore delle gemme” (Aquileia, 19–20 giugno 2008), Trieste 2009, 183–94. 25.  F. Ghedini, “Temi ovidiani nel repertorio glittico. Il ruolo di Eros nel mito di Apollo e Dafne”, in G. Sena Chiesa, E. Gagetti (eds.), Aquileia e la glittica di età ellenenistica e romana. Atti del Convegno “Il fulgore delle gemme” (Aquileia, 19–20 giugno 2008), Trieste 2009, 171–82. 26.  M. Salvadori, “Captaeque erat urbis imago. Il tema della Centauromachia fra Ovidio e la tradizione iconografica”, in G. Sena Chiesa, E. Gagetti (eds.), Aquileia e la glittica di età ellenistica e romana. Atti del Convegno “Il fulgore delle gemme” (Aquileia, 19–20 giugno 2008), Trieste 2009, 195–204.

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27.  G. Salvo, “Ovidio e la cultura figurativa di età augustea: il mito di Niobe tra arte e letteratura”, Eidola 6, 2009, 89–112. 28.  F. Ghedini, “Ovidio  e la cultura figurativa coeva. Polifemo  e Galatea”, in I. Bragantini (ed.), Atti del X congresso internazionale dell’A IPMA (Association Internationale pour la Peinture Murale Antique): Napoli 17–21 settembre 2007, Napoli 2010, I, 267–76 (Quaderni di AION 18). 29.  I. Colpo, M.  Salvadori, “Ovidio  e la pittura della prima età imperiale”, in I. Bragantini (ed.), Atti del X congresso internazionale dell’A IPMA (Association Internationale pour la Peinture Murale Antique): Napoli 17–21 settembre 2007, Napoli 2010, I, 277–88 (Quaderni di AION 18). 30.  I. Colpo, “Tutte le Arianne di Ovidio”, Eidola 8, 2011, 65–77. 31.  F. Ghedini, “Ninfe braccate: il mito di Syrinx nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Colpo (ed.), Tra protostoria e storia. Studi in onore di Loredana Capuis, Roma 2011, 465–72 (Antenor Quaderni 20). 32.  F. Ghedini, “Ovidio e il Progetto MArS”, Eidola 8, 2011, 11–13. 33.  F. Ghedini, “Le Metamorfosi tra testo e immagini”, Eidola 8, 2011, 179–98. 34.  F. Ghedini, I. Colpo, G. Salvo, “Echi di iconografie ovidiane nel repertorio musivo medio e tardo imperiale”, in O. Brandt, P. Pergola (eds.), Marmoribus vestita. Miscellanea in onore di Federico Guidobaldi, Città del Vaticano 2011, 624–31. 35.  M. Salvadori, M. Baggio, “Lo svelamento di Marte e Venere: tra repertorio iconografico e narrazione ovidiana”, Eidola 8, 2011, 79–95. 36.  S. Santoro, “L’instabilità dell’essere e l’irrappresentabile metamorfosi”, Eidola 8, 2011, 29–44. 37.  E. Simon, “Feuer, Wasser, Luft und Erde”, in A.  Heil, M.  Korn, J.  Sauer (eds.), “Noctes Sinenses”. Festschrift für Fritz-Heiner Mutschler zum 65. Geburtstag, Heidelberg 2011, 129–32 (Kalliope 11). 38.  F. Slavazzi, “Ovidio nelle residenze di Augusto  e della sua corte”, Eidola 8, 2011, 143–55. 39.  I. Colpo, F.  Ghedini (eds.), Il gran poema delle passioni  e delle meraviglie. Ovidio e il repertorio letterario e figurativo fra antico e riscoperta dell’antico. Atti del Convegno (Padova, 15–17 settembre 2011), Padova 2012. 40.  Mª. J. Pena, M. Oller, “Hipólito y Orestes en el santuario de Diana en Nemi: contaminaciones mitográficas antiguas y modernas: análisis crítico de las fuentes literarias”, Latomus 71, 2012, 338–72. 41.  G. Rosati, “Gli amori degli dei nelle Metamorfosi”, in Mª. C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª. Iglesias Montiel (eds.), Y el mito se hizo poesía, Madrid 2012, 197–209. Scholars interested in the relationship between Ovid and the plastic arts can start by reading the general considerations (21, 32) with which Francesca Ghedini presents her project MArS (‘Mito, Arte e Società nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio’). In this project

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historians of art, society and politics of the Augustan period take met. as a hugely important work of reference and evidence. Also complementary to these pages is the article (33) in which Ghedini herself offers a summary of the state of this project, as well as of their methods and future lines of investigation. It is well known that the iconographic repercussions of Ovid’s work were intense, which, in turn, evidences his popularity. For his presence in Italian mural painting, see Vulikh (3). Giulia Salvo (27) reviews the presence of the Niobe myth in posthomeric literature (97–9), and  – from the 5th c. bce  – in plastic arts (99–103). Then she compares the forms of iconographic representation in the Augustan era with the Ovidian version, leaving the reader to determine possible interdependencies (see esp. 105–8). Javier Arce (4) analyses the presence of met. in a Spanish 4th-c. ce mosaic. María José Pena and Marta Oller (40) are only tangentially interested in Ovid’s work, since their objective is to recover the written documentary sources of  a bas-relief from the Temple of Diana in Nemi. For this purpose they review (348–51), among other passages, Ovid’s representation of the Hippolitus episode (met. 15.479–546; fast. 3.261–76). In his iconographic analysis of the Hypnos-villa in Almedinilla (Córdoba), Desiderio Vaquerizo (8) takes into account Ovid’s description of the house of Somnus in met. 11.592–615. Bernard Andreae (12) studies possible Ovidian influences (Ulysses and Diomedes in Book 13) on the Sperlonga sculptures (a more general in-depth study, in 7; a previous approach, in Bender, 5; some remarks also in Hofmann, 10, 35). In her broad-ranging study of the presence of the Diana-Actaeon episode in the Vesuvian area, Marina Nardelli (11, esp. 67–8, 76–7) finds dependence on the Ovidian narrative, a connection already pointed out by Eleanor W. Leach (2). Fabrizio Slavazzi (38) examines possible ‘reciprocal influences’ between Ovid’s poetry and the iconographic representations found in the private residences of Maecenas, Sallustius, Augustus, Livia and Tiberius. Ida Baldassarre’s study (1) is dedicated to the presence of the Pyramus and Thisbe episode in five paintings from Pompeii. These are her main conclusions: “Il gruppo di pitture esaminate ci offre una interessante testimonianza della nascita  e della diffusione di una iconografia, che non ha altri precedenti se non il testo letterario […] dal quale dipende e che sembra illustrare” (343–4). “Una volta fissata però l’iconografia, la sua trasmissione funziona a circuito chiuso, senza che si faccia più ricorso alla fonte letteraria, che pure era accessibile, per possibili variazioni; le varianti avvengono per semplificazione o arricchimento dello schema iconografico iniziale e mai partendo da una rilettura del testo” (345). Antonio Stramaglia (13) also studies the probable influence of Ovid’s version of this myth into three iconographic works of 3rd-5th c. ce. A comparative study between Ovid’s version of this myth and the one represented in a 2nd-3rd-c. ce mosaic from Cyprus is available in Knox (6). Also devoted to Pyramus and Thisbe (along with other myths such as that of Cyparissus) is the article by Gilles Sauron (15), who studies the presence of these episodes in some paintings of Pompeii and defends that, though in a complex way, “la poésie augustéenne a inspiré le public qui commandait la peinture décorative dès les dernières années du premier principat” (157). Marion Gindhart (23, 34–8, 57–62) explores the presence of Narcissus’ myth in pictorial representations of the Empire and in Ausonius, Epigrammata 109

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(ed. Kay). Erika Simon (37) studies the presence of Ovid’s version of Phaethon’s myth in a 3rd–4th-c. sarcophagus from Villa Borghese. In chapter 3 of Miller and Newlands’ handbook (below, ‘Latin literature: General’, 17, 36–54), Peter Knox reviews “Ovidian Myths on Pompeian Walls”, which he considers “our best evidence for the reception of Ovid among the public” in the decades after his death (36). The importance of this presence can be measured by this statistic: approximately 41 % of the several hundreds of representations of mythological scenes recently catalogued (by Hodske, 18) from the frescoed walls of Pompeii correspond to episodes in met. In many of these cases, a conscious and direct dependence on Ovid’s poem cannot be proven (this precaution already appeared in the brief article by Erika Simon, 19, who only sees Ovid in the background of some images that she analyses). For this reason, Knox dedicates his work to analysing “a few secure examples that can only be derived from Ovid”, which therefore “provide a context for assessing the broader impact of Ovid’s myths in the frescoes of Pompeii” (37). Moreover, Knox’s work offers useful access to other works on the iconographic presence of myth in the ancient era. The works by Isabella Colpo, Gian Luca Grassigli and Fabio Minotti (17) examine the rich presence of the Narcissus myth in Pompeian painting, and its cultural and ideological implications. Ovid’s poetic tale is  a constant reference in these pages, since the authors observe relations of dependence (which had already been pointed out sometime earlier by Zimmerman 9, 14). Isabella Colpo also published another study (20) on possible Ovidian allusions in representations found in the Vesuvian area of the myths of Polyphemus and Galatea (on this topic, see also Ghedini, 28), Perseus and Andromeda (on the same topic see the paper by Colpo and Salvadori, 29, where the influence on contemporary landscape paintings is also addressed), and Daedalus and Icarus (a study by the same author of the references between the Ovidian version of this myth and engraved representations from the same era, in 24; on the same myth, see also the paper by Hélène Guiraud, 16). Colpo also makes a study (30) of the Ariadne myth as it appears in Ovid and in iconographic works both contemporary and later than Ovid. A similar study, focused on Narcissus as well as on the episodes of Achilles at Scyros, and Apollo and Daphne, is in Ghedini, Colpo, and Salvo (34); other comparable works, but focused on the role of Eros in the Apollo-Daphne episode, are in Ghedini (25, and see also 22); on the episode of the Centauromachy, in Salvadori (26); on the episode of Pan and Syrinx (met. 1.689–712), in Ghedini (31). In his wider study on the loves of the gods, Gianpiero Rosati (41, 207–9) considers met. as “matrice letteraria” of the iconographic representation of myths, very frequent in the public sphere and also in private. Among them, the one which appears most often is the motif of persecution and flight, which could be interpreted as a symbol of the power of the dominus within the sphere of the private home. Sara Santoro’s article (36) offers a contrasting viewpoint; she questions whether Ovid’s text functioned as a source or model for the iconographic representations, and points out (see esp. 35–9) the challenges in imitation presented by this text, as much for its generic indefinability, as for its insistence on instability and changeability.

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A recent collective publication, edited by Isabella Colpo and Francesca Ghedini (39), deserves  a special mention in this section. This work consists of conference proceedings, bringing together 45 contributions about various aspects of iconographic survival (and more) of the met. up until our time, since the contents of this poem “costituiscono uno dei più stimolanti documenti della forza evocativa del verso” (Ghedini in the “Presentazione”, 7). Among these contributions are studies on many of the more familiar myths featured in the poem and their figurative presence from Ovid’s time onwards (for these early stages, see especially the section titled “Ovidio tra testo e immagini”, 11–291). As can be read in the English abstract of the article by Kakovkin (14, 177), there “[t]he author analyses some monuments featuring nymph Daphne and created by Coptic sculptors, weavers and engravers in the 4th–9th centuries”. For the book edited by Colpo, Ghedini, and Salvo, see ‘Latin literature: General’ (14). For the article by Monica Salvadori and Monica Baggio (35), see ‘Ancient Greek writers – Epic – Homer’. For Niall Rudd’s chapter on “Daedalus and Icarus in Art”, see ‘Latin literature: General’. 2. Latin literature a. General The survival and reception of Ovid’s work in the first centuries ce constitute an increasingly rich field of study. We start with the Latin-speaking sphere, and studies with a general focus. 1.  H. Hofmann, “Ovids Metamorphosen in der Forschung der letzten 30 Jahre (1950–1979)”, ANRW II 31.4, 1981, 2161–273. 2.  E. Cizek, “Ovide et le goût littéraire de l’époque impériale”, BAGB 1983, 277–83. 3.  A. Ronconi, “Fortuna di Ovidio”, A&R 29, 1984, 1–16. 4.  C. Martindale (ed.), Ovid Renewed. Ovidian Influences on Literature and Art from the Middle Ages to the Twentieth Century, Cambridge 1988. Reviews: W. S. Anderson, CW 83, 1989, 56; H. K. Riikonen, Arctos 23, 1989, 255–6; R. Stoneman, CR 40, 1990, 156; D. Delabastita, LEC 40, 1992, 321–7. 5.  L. Nicastri, “Ovidio e i posteri”, in I. Gallo, L. Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 7–25 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli studi di Salerno. Sez. Atti Convegni Miscellanee 43). 6.  K. Galinsky, “Was Ovid a Silver Latin Poet?”, ICS 14, 1989, 69–89 (republ. in Spanish as “¿Fue Ovidio un poeta latino de la Edad de Plata?”, Auster 14, 2009, 11–32). 7.  W. S. Anderson (ed.), Ovid: The Classical Heritage, New York 1995 (repr. 2014). Review: L. T. Pearcy, CW 91, 1998, 64–5. 8.  S. Casali, “Apollo, Ovid and the foreknowledge of criticism (Ars 2.493–512)”, CJ 93, 1997–98, 19–27.

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9.  S. Casali, “Ovidio e la preconoscenza della critica: qualche generalizzazione a partire da Heroides 14”, Philologus 142, 1998, 93–113. 10.  M. Dewar, “Siquid habent ueri uatum praesagia: Ovid in the 1st-5th Centuries A. D.”, in B. W. Boyd (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden-Boston 2002, 383–412. 11.  G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002. 12.  A. M. Keith, S. J. Rupp, “After Ovid: Classical, Medieval, and Early Modern Receptions of the Metamorphoses”, in A. M. Keith, S. J. Rupp (eds.), Metamorphosis: The Changing Face of Ovid in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Toronto 2007, 15–32. 13.  G. Mazzoli, “Le Metamorfosi tra Ovidio  e Apuleio”, Athenaeum 95, 2007, 7–20. 14.  I. Colpo, F. Ghedini, G. Salvo (eds.), Metamorfosi: miti d’amore e di vendetta nel mondo romano. Padova, Centro di Ateneo per i Musei (CAM), 29 settembre  – 1 dicembre 2012, Padova 2012. 15.  P. Hardie, Rumour and Renown. Representations of Fama in Western Literature, Cambridge-New York 2012 (Cambridge Classical Studies). Reviews: A. Augoustakis, BMCR 2013.02.13; N. Holzberg, CW 107, 2014, 281–2; D. Quint, Mnemosyne 67, 2014, 1032–4; G. D. Williams, JRS 104, 2014, 339–40. 16. N. Holzberg, “Ovid: Textspektrum, Interpretationsaspekte, Fortwirken”, AU 56, 2013, 1–11. 17.  J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands (eds.), A Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester (New Sussex) 2014. For works previous to the period examined here, see Hofmann 1, 2217–21 and 2254–5. Although lacking chronological orientation, the ‘Introduction’ by Charles Martindale (4, 1–20) is an indispensable starting point for any study on Ovid’s reception. For the poet’s literary stance before his present and future public, see Nicastri (5) and, despite not being specifically focused on met., the articles by Sergio Casali (8, 9), with his interesting theory of Ovid’s ‘foreknowledge of criticism’. With the characteristics of a preliminary work, the article by Alessandro Ronconi (3) reviews Ovid’s Fortleben in the first centuries. He starts by recalling the poet’s scarce school presence, in quotes by grammarians, rhetoricians and erudite writers of the second century, and continues evoking the well-known critical theorists such as both Senecas or Quintilian. On the other hand, Ovid was extremely popular, especially his love poetry, as the epigraphic and iconographic evidence shows. Ronconi mentions some imitations of Ovid in minor and fragmentary texts, but he hardly develops his presence in the great epic and tragic poets of the 1st century. Finally, he deals briefly with his limited presence in Christian writers. Eugen Cizek (2) asserts that Ovid’s relative non-conformism allowed him to overcome the dominant aesthetic and become, after Virgil, the main model of the

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imperial era. In an article about the general poetic condition of Ovid (6), Karl Galinsky dedicates his first pages (70–8) to showing that Ovid was an authentically Augustan poet, rather than a Silver Latin one. In the second and third parts of the work (78–88) he studies in detail, through the motifs of the sea storm and the nekya, how the Neronian and Flavian poets adapted the met., and he highlights the existence of a relative distancing. William Anderson collects in his monograph (7) works by various authors who have studied the survival of Ovid from his time until ours. Specifically, in the Introduction he outlines a brief overview of this survival, focusing attention on Ovid’s presence from his own times up to the 2nd c. (xii-xv), and then to the end of Antiquity (xvi–xviii). But Anderson himself devotes  a first chapter (1–10) to “First-Century Criticism on Ovid: The Senecas and Quintilian”. In these pages he considers the Elder Seneca’s rhetorical criticism on Ovid, which he illustrates through different testimonies from Seneca’s work. He then moves on to Seneca the Younger, who showed a close acquaintance with Ovid’s work (particularly met.) but also kept  a critical distance for ethical reasons. Anderson finally reminds us of the ambivalent judgement of Quintilian, who praised Ovid’s talent but criticised his rhetorical lascivia. A similar introductory tone is taken in the chapter with which Alison Keith and Stephen Rupp start their monograph on survival of met. down to the modern era (12, esp. 15–28). In this chapter they consider the work’s survival, from Ovid’s poem to Ausonius, taking into account the authors of the 1st and 2nd c. (both Senecas, Quintilian, Persius, Martial, Statius, Apuleius), the plastic arts and the commentaries on the poem. Though it is, strictly speaking, a catalogue for an exhibition, the book edited by Colpo, Ghedini and Salvo (14) contains a number of chapters dealing with Ovid’s influence on our culture up to the present. It pays special attention to iconography and the different ways of reception of myth. Michael Dewar (10) carries out, in accordance with the type of book to which the chapter belongs, a wide-ranging review of the presence of Ovid’s work in Latin literature from the 1st to 5th centuries. He focuses especially on the survival of Ovid’s ars and ingenium in authors such as Seneca, Statius and Claudian, but also on the negative criticism of these qualities made by others such as Persius, Seneca the Elder and Quintilian. The important studies by Niall Rudd on the survival of the Daedalus-Icarus episode use the same panoramic perspective: “Daedalus and Icarus (i): from Rome to the End of the Middle Ages” and “Daedalus and Icarus. (ii) From the Renaissance to the Present Day” (4, 21–35 and 37–53). In addition, a catalogue of iconographic testimonies of “Daedalus and Icarus in Art” (247–53) is a useful appendix. Giancarlo Mazzoli (13) also carries out  a complete study, although perhaps more focused on secondary literature than on the texts themselves, on the Fortleben of the Ovidian concept of ‘metamorphosis’ and on some of its examples up to the work by Apuleius, starting with the work of Ovid himself (Fasti and exile poems). A brief paragraph on “Der Einfluss Ovids in der Antike” can be found in Holzberg (16, 8). Some publications which have treated the subject with  a global outlook are

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especially useful. The first is vol. 85.3 of Arethusa (2002), which contains these studies edited under the supervision of Garth Tissol and Stephen Wheeler (11; we will comment on them in their relevant places): S. Wheeler, “Introduction: Toward a Literary History of Ovid’s Reception in Antiquity”, 341–7; R. J. Tarrant, “Chaos in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its Neronian influence”, 349–60; S. Wheeler, “Lucan’s reception of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, 361–80; A. M. Keith, “Ovidian personae in Statius’s Thebaid”, 381–402; M.  Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, 403–15; C. Williams, “Ovid, Martial, and Poetic Immortality: Traces of Amores 1.15 in the Epigrams”, 417–33; G. Tissol, “Ovid and the Exilic Journey of Rutilius Namatianus”, 435–46 (“Bibliography”, 447–61). In his “Introduction”, Wheeler considers it necessary to venture further than studies which document Ovid’s presence in the work of a certain author. He believes it is important to address the issue of how Ovidian work is assimilated until the Middle Ages: in other words, he puts more emphasis on Ovid’s reception – in literature or other artistic manifestations – than on mere Nach- or Fortleben. The second publication of this type is the handbook edited by John Miller and Carole Newlands (17). This thematically and chronologically ambitious book is an essential point of reference for any study of Ovid’s afterlife. In terms of what affects the reception of Ovid in Antiquity, these sections are important: the introduction by the editors (1–7), with interesting considerations about Ovid’s reception, and reception studies in general; and chapters 3–7, which will be dealt with below. Chapter 2, by Andrew Feldherr (“Modeling Reception in Metamorphoses: Ovid’s Epic Cyclops”, 22–35) contains interesting theoretical observations about Ovid’s concept of fama: his literary self-consciousness and sense of – and hope for – survival (for fama, see Hardie’s recent monograph 15, esp. chapters 5 and 6). b. Carmina Latina Epigraphica  1.  F. Bömer, “Der Klassiker Ovid. Bemerkungen zu CE 1109”, AAntHung  30, 1982/84, 275–81. 2.  P. Cugusi, “Carmina Latina epigraphica e tradizione letteraria”, Epigraphica 44, 1982, 65–107. 3.  A. Ronconi, “Fortuna di Ovidio”, A&R 29, 1984, 1–16. 4.  J. Carbonell Manils, “A propósito de un nuevo carmen Latinum epigraphicum de Carthago Noua”, Faventia 20, 1998, 129–41. Alessandro Ronconi (3, 3) addresses the more than 700 quotes from Ovid in the CLE, only exceeded by Virgil. Bömer (1) carries out a detailed verse-by-verse analysis of the long epigram 1109, from the Flavian period, emphasising the heavy debt this composition owes to Ovid’s work, and especially to met. Paolo Cugusi (2, 72–103) analyses the allusions to – and reminiscences of – various poets, Ovid included, in CLE (89–98); the reception of Ovid the author stands out as immediate and highly relevant. Joan Carbonell (4) carries out a complete study of

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a new epigraphic discovery in Carthago Nova: the obvious parallel of the epigraphic text with passages from Ovid, and especially met., is precisely what serves the author as a terminus post quem in order to date the document. c. 1st and 2nd Centuries I will start my review with general works about Ovid’s reception in these centuries, and then I will follow an alphabetical order for the different authors or literary works. General Works on 1st-2nd Centuries ce 1.  P. Hardie, “Ovid and Early Imperial Literature”, in P. Hardie (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Ovid, Cambridge 2002, 34–45. 2.  C. McNelis, “Ovidian Strategy in Early Imperial Literature”, in P. E. Knox (ed.), A Companion to Ovid, Maden (MA) 2009, 397–410. 3.  A. Keith, “Poetae Ovidiani: Ovid’s Metamorphoses in Imperial Roman Epic”, in J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands (eds.), A Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester (New Sussex) 2014, 70–85. Philip Hardie (1) carries out a panoramic review of the literary evolution between the Augustan and post-Augustan periods, and particularly of Ovid as a watershed. He analyses the implications of this shift, such as rhetoricism, textuality and self-reflexivity, the passion for the spectacular, and the presence of violence, paradox and wit etc. He considers the general reception of these characteristics of Ovidian poetry by theoreticians, and poets and prose writers, of the first two centuries ce. In the wake of Hardie’s reevaluation of Ovid, Charles McNelis (2) considers Martial’s reworking of Ars amatoria; he then studies how Seneca uses met. in the Apocolocyntosis as  a foundational text for the imperial ideas of time, history, and apotheosis; finally, he analyses the ways in which Statius, starting from Ovid’s Achilles for his own depiction in the Achilleid, sets the met. against Virgilian epic norms. Alison Keith (3) charts the enthusiastic reception of met. by Manilius, Lucan, Valerius Flaccus, Statius and Silius Italicus: this early imperial Roman epic is understood “as the earliest example of large-scale negotiation of the Aeneid through the lens of the Metamorphoses” (70). Appendix Vergiliana 1.  P. E. Knox, “Scylla’s Nurse”, Mnemosyne 43, 1990, 158–9.  2.  S. Wheeler, “Into new bodies: the incipit of Ovid’s Metamorphoses as intertext in imperial Latin literature”, MD 61, 2008, 146–60. 3.  A. Egea Carrasco, “Realismo y parodia en el Moretum pseudovirgiliano”, in J. F. González, J. de la Villa Polo (eds.), XII Congreso Español de Estudios Clásicos, Madrid 2010, II, 865–72.

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The brief mention by Peter Knox (1) does not suggest a direct relation, but does point to a probable common source (perhaps Parthenius) for the figure of Scylla’s nurse in Ciris and Ovid (met. 8.81–2 talia dicenti curarum maxima nutrix / nox). Stephen Wheeler (2) considers how the Ovidian incipit was polemically imitated by Manilius (3.1–4) and, from both Manilius and Ovid, by the author of the Aetna (6–8; tangentially Wheeler also mentions met.’s presence in Stat. silv. 2.7.78) “as evidence for the reception of Ovid’s masterwork” (149). Adolfo Egea (3) studies the relationship between the Moretum and the episode of Philemon and Baucis in our poem and Callimachus’ Hecale. Apuleius 1.  M. Scotti, “Il proemio delle Metamorfosi tra Ovidio ed Apuleio”, GIF 34, 1982, 43–65. 2.  M. Bandini, “Il modello della metamorfosi ovidiana nel romanzo di Apuleio”, Maia 38, 1986, 27–32. 3.  J. K. Krabbe, The Metamorphoses of Apuleius, New York 1989. Reviews: J. K. Dowden, CR 41, 1991, 490–1; J. Tatum, CO 68, 1991, 152. 4.  G. Mazzoli, “Apuleio: metamorfosi, conversione  e loro logiche”, in Storia, Letteratura e arte a Roma nel secondo secolo dopo Cristo. Atti del convegno (Mantova, 8–10 ottobre 1992), Firenze 1995, 193–211. 5.  L. Graverini, “Sulle ali del vento: evoluzione di un’immagine tra Ovidio ed Apuleio”, Prometheus 25, 1999, 243–6. 6.  H. Müller-Reineke, Liebesbeziehungen in Ovids Metamorphosen und ihr Einfluss auf den Roman des Apuleius, Göttingen-London 2000 (Göttingen 19981). Reviews: V.  Hunink, BMCR 1999.05.02; Mª C.  Álvarez Morán, Gnomon 74, 2002, 211–15; M. Lobe, Gymnasium 109, 2002, 170–2. 7.  A. Magnani, “Sensum tantum retinebam humanum: Ovidio, Apuleio e la metamorfosi”, Vichiana 4, 2003, 3–37. 8.  R. M. Lucifora, “Il racconto della metamorfosi dall’epica (di Ovidio) al romanzo (di Apuleio)”, in R.  Pretagostini, E.  Dettori (eds.), La cultura ellenistica. L’opera letteraria e l’esegesi antica. Atti del Convegno COFIN 2001, Università di Roma “Tor Vergata”, 22–24 settembre 2003, Roma 2004, 213–30. 9.  L. Graverini, “A Booklike self. Ovid and Apuleius”, Hermathena 177–178, 2004/05, 225–50. 10.  A. Kirichenko, “Lectores in fabula: Apuleius’ Metamorphoses between pleasure and instruction”, Prometheus 33, 2007, 254–76. 11.  G. Mazzoli, “Le Metamorfosi tra Ovidio  e Apuleio”, Athenaeum 95, 2007, 7–20. 12.  R. Tordoff, “A note on Echo in Apuleius, Metamorphoses 5.25”, CQ 58, 2008, 711–2.

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13.  M. Fucecchi, “Encountering the Fantastic: Expectations, Forms of Communication, Reactions”, in P. Hardie (ed.), Paradox and the Marvellous in Augustan Literature and Culture, Oxford-New York 2009, 213–30. 14.  T. Gärtner, “Die lykischen Bauern bei Ovid und eine Strukturimitation dieser Geschichte bei Apuleius”, Maia 61, 2009, 568–70. 15.  H. Vial, “In noua mutatas formas corpora, figuras in alias imagines conuersas: l’influence d’Ovide dans l’écriture apuléenne de la métamorphose”, in R. Poignault (ed.), Présence du roman grec et latin. Actes du colloque tenu à Clermont-Ferrand (23–25 novembre 2006), Clermont-Ferrand 2011, 121–45 (Caesarodunum 40–41 bis). 16.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovid and the Novel”, in M. P. Futre Pinheiro, S. J. Harrison (eds.),  Fictional Traces. Receptions of the Ancient Novel, Groningen 2012, 3–19, I (Ancient Narrative Supplementum 14.1). 17.  A. M. Keith, S. J. Rupp, “After Ovid: Classical, Medieval, and Early Modern Receptions of the Metamorphoses”, in A. M. Keith, S. J. Rupp (eds.), Metamorphosis: The Changing Face of Ovid in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Toronto 2007, 15–32. 18.  N. Fick, “La postérité des mythes grecs: Actéon chez Ovide et Apulée”, Pallas 81, 2009, 169–78. 19.  L. Nicolini, “Falsi miti e fabulae vere: Apuleio, met. 6, 29 e un insegnamento ovidiano”, MD 69, 2012, 217–22. 20.  L. Nicolini, “Uno sguardo ecfrastico sulla realtà: modi dell’influenza ovidiana in Apuleio”, in M. Carmignani, L. Graverini, B. T. Lee (eds.), Collected Studies on the Roman Novel. Ensayos sobre la novela romana, Córdoba (Arg.) 2013, 157–78 (Ordia Prima. Studia 7). 21.  S. Harrison, “Ovid in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses”, in J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands (eds.), A Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester (New Sussex) 2014, 86–99. A brief critical review of the recent panorama of studies about the relationship between both Metamorphoses can be found in Lara Nicolini (20, 157–9). She then dedicates interesting pages (159–62) to considering the depth, and the organic and pervasive character, of the Ovidian influence, which is therefore less obvious or ‘visible’ than other classical authors’, esp. Virgil. Stephen Harrison (21) points out the “clear affinities between the two authors [sc. Ovid and Apuleius], their interests, and their modes of operation” (86), and concludes (97): “Ovid’s epic Metamorphoses was a key model for Apuleius’ homonymous novel, which used both its material and its techniques”. Of particular interest for our purposes is the section titled “The Two Metamorphoses” (90–7). Mariateresa Scotti (1) makes a detailed analysis of the expressions in both Ovid’s and Apuleius’ incipits and examines their links, but also their programmatical differences (namely a different concept – or rather function – of ‘metamorphosis’). Although within a general chapter on the presence of met. in the first centuries

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of our era, Alison Keith and Stephen Rupp pay special attention (17, 22–6) to the relationship between Ovid and Apuleius. Michele Bandini (2) focuses on Apuleius’ metamorphosis episodes of Pamphile (3.21) and Lucius (3.24), which he compares, respectively, with Ovidian metamorphosis into  a bird (in the case of Pamphile) and that of Ocyroe into  a mare (met. 2.633–75) (in the case of Lucius). Moreover, he emphasises the differences with Lucian’s model. Judith Krabbe devotes considerable pages (3, 37–81) to the Ovidian presence in the novel of Apuleius, but also to the differences between them (“l’unico studio organico sui rapporti tra i due autori”, Nicolini 20, 157). Giancarlo Mazzoli (4) also compares the metamorphoses in Ovid and Apuleius, pointing out as  a main differentiating characteristic the latter’s reversibility. Mazzoli dedicates another article (11), as we saw in the general studies, to  a panoramic review of the Fortleben of the Ovidian ‘metamorphosis’ concept, and of some examples up to Apuleius’ work. Adriano Magnani’s article (7) focuses mainly on the differences between both writers, comparing the episodes of Io, Callisto and Actaeon in Ovid (met. 1.568–747, 2.411–95, 3.155–255), with those of Lucius and Actaeon in Apuleius (met. 3.24–5 and 2.4). Michael von Albrecht (16) studies the relationship between Ovid and the novel, first examining his reception in Petronius (6–10) and Apuleius (3–6), then considering Ovid’s potential use of previous novels. For his comparison, he chooses the episode of Actaeon, but rules out Ovid’s influence on Apuleius. Also devoted to the common myth of Actaeon, the paper by Nicole Fick (18) examines how Apuleius, in the most idealistic line of Platonism, makes of him a symbol of ‘une mystique de la Beauté’. Maria Rosa Lucifora (8) compares some aspects  – especially visual  – of metamorphosis in Ovid, Apuleius and Ps-Lucian, and contrasts them with precedents in Hellenistic and Roman poetry. The article by Luca Graverini (5) examines the image of Europa riding the bull with her garments billowing in the wind. This image was introduced into the Latin language by Ovid (met. 2.833–75, fast. 5.603–18; referred to Daphne in met. 1.527–9), probably inspired by Moschus (129–30). The influence of Ovid’s lexicon in these passages on two of Apuleius (met. 10.31.2, 4.35.4) is analysed. Graverini also points out the similarities in content between Ovid’s Europa episode and Apuleius’ Psyche. In addition, the author dedicates another article (9) to the relation between Ovid and Apuleius, but in this case rather to the influence of Tristia. However, in 242–3 he discusses the presentation that Ovid makes of himself as a book, at the epilogue of met., connecting it with the proem of Apuleius’ romance. The dissertation by Hendrik Müller-Reineke, initially published in 1998 and then, in a “2., verbesserte Auflage”, in 2000, devotes its fifth chapter (6, 157–208) to “Der Einfluss Ovids auf die Metamorphosen des Apuleius” (namely the influence of the amatory topics). The previous chapters are dedicated, not always successfully (cf. BMCR 1999 Hunink), to marking out love themes in met. Alexander Kirichenko (10) makes  a detailed reading of certain sections in Apuleius’ novel (esp. prologue and closure), and towards the end of his study focuses

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on comparing with met.: “I suggest that the structure of Apuleius’ novel, as I have presented it, is intertextually linked to a famous Latin poem, which also progresses from Greece to Rome, consists of multiple intermingled fictions, and, on top of everything else, is related to it thematically and shares its title – namely Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (272); “What I would like to concentrate on here is just one peculiar feature of Ovid’s poem, namely the tension, similar to the one we have seen in Apuleius, between the chaotic and variegated fictional world characteristic of most of the narrative and an attempt to impose on it an ideological unifying principle, introduced, just as in Apuleius, in the last book of the work” (272–3); “Another common feature […] is that the ideological foundation introduces a moralistic attitude to the multiple fictions that constitute the main body of both narratives” (274; and, for similarities between Isiac religion and Pythagoreanism, 274–6). Robert Tordoff’s note (12) enriches the reading of the expression deam eamque in Apul. met. 5.25 when related to Ov. met. 3.501 (vale, ‘vale’). Furthermore, both, in turn, are linked to the rationalist refutation of the acoustic phenomenon of the echo by Lucretius (4.572–94, and esp. 580–1, 586–9). The chapter by Marco Fucecchi (13) starts by connecting Apul. met. 2.1.1–5 and Ov. met. 15.259–420, since in both texts, as opposed to what happens e.g. in Virgil’s Aeneid, the occurrence of the marvellous is already present in the narrator’s expectations. Thomas Gärtner’s note (14) lays bare the parallels in the content, but also in the narrative structure, which exist between Ovid’s Lycian peasants (met. 6.370–81) and Apuleius’ innkeeper (met. 1.8–9), all of whom metamorphosed into frogs. Hélène Vial’s chapter (15) also addresses the proems of both works and the concept of ‘metamorphosis’, understood not only in their individual and collective  – even global  – modalities, but also as textual transformations. From this perspective, she examines the means, motivations and effects of Ovid’s presence in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses, also paying attention to the shared figure of the first-person narrator, and to the affirmation of literary hybridity. Lara Nicolini (19) is the first to make a connection between Apuleius’ expression (met. 6.29.1) Asino vectore virgo regia fugiens captivitatem and Ovid’s reference to Europa as regia virgo in met. 2.868–9 (ausa est quoque regia virgo / nescia, quem premeret, tergo considere tauri). She draws interesting conclusions about the process of verification and literary validation of myth as practised by both authors. Nicolini also dedicates another article, already mentioned (20), to the debt between both Metamorphoses: in this instance, she focuses on Apuleius’ imitation of the motive for ecphrasis as used by Ovid, and in light of certain conventions of contemporary rhetoric.

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Calpurnius Siculus 1.  M. Fucecchi, “Ovidio e la nuova bucolica di Calpurnio: osservazioni e proposte”, in L. Landolfi, R. Oddo (eds.), ‘Fer propius tua lumina’. Giochi intertestuali nella poesia di Calpurnio Siculo. Incontri sulla poesia latina di età imperiale (II), Bologna 2009, 41–65 (Testi e manuali per l’insegnamento universitario del latino 106). 2. P. Esposito, “Interaction between Bucolics and Georgics: the fifth eclogue of Calpurnius Siculus”, TiC 4, 2012, 48–72. In  a wide-ranging study assessing Ovid’s entire oeuvre, Marco Fucecchi (1) goes beyond already-noted debts of Calpurnius as regards phraseological echoes, representation of the landscape, and – particularly – versificatory technique. He recognises in Calpurnius “una simile attitudine ‘ricapitolativa’”, in reference to the game of genres as practised by Ovid and to his “dialogo a tutto campo con la tradizione” (42). The study examines this common approach through three sections in which texts and characters are compared. Although the article is focused on studying the Virgilian debt of Calpurnius’ fifth eclogue, Paolo Esposito (2) considers the combined influence of other authors such as Tibullus and Ovid (e.g. Calp. 5.27–8 tepidos tunc hostia cultros / imbuat  – Ov. met. 15.735 ictaque coniectos incalfacit hostia cultros). Carmen De bello Actiaco –  M. N. Iulietto, P. Tempone, “Due nuovi contributi intertestuali per lo studio del carme De bello Actiaco (PHerc 817)”, Paideia 67, 2012, 165–85. Maria Nicole Iulietto relates, not to Lucan’s aesthetic but Ovid’s, the ‘baroque’ and macabre elements that are present in columns V and VI of PHerc 817, which contains the so-called Carmen de bello Actiaco, opting for an Augustan date (“classica”) and not later (“argentea”) of the poem. Columella –  É. Prioux, “Columelle et le genus floridum: images programmatiques et parodie dans le livre X du De re rustica”, Dictynna 10, 2013, sine pag. Évelyne Prioux analyses the poetic characteristics of book X of Columella and his aspiration to a genus floridum, and shows the intertextual games which he establishes, mainly with Virgil’s buc. and georg. and Ovid’s met. and Fasti.

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Florus –  S. Wheeler, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Universal History”, in D. S. Levene, D.  Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002, 163–90. Stephen Wheeler (169–70) addresses – and rejects – the possibility that Florus was inspired by met. 1.4 for his use of the word deduximus in 1.47.3. Germanicus –  S. Hinds, The Metamorphosis of Persephone. Ovid and the self-conscious Muse, Cambridge 1987. Reviews: M. von Albrecht, AJPh 109, 1988, 461–3; W. S. M. Nicoll, CR 38, 1988, 245–7; W. Anderson, Gnomon 61, 1989, 356–8; J. Fabre, REL 66, 1988, 312; D. F. Kennedy, JRS 79, 1989, 209–10; B. R. Nagle, CW 82, 1989, 449–50; R. A. Tucker, CB 64, 1989, 102; S. Viarre, AC 58, 1989, 339–40; B.  Rochette, LEC 58, 1990, 402–3; R. F. Thomas, CPh 85, 1990, 77–80; D. Porte, RPh 65, 1991, 71–2. In pp. 6–16 of Stephen Hinds’ book you can find an intertextual analysis of the episode of the birth of Hippocrene’s fountain in Ovid, in his model Aratus, and – regarding, in turn, both sources – in Germanicus. Hosidius Geta 1.  S. C. McGill, “Tragic Vergil: Rewriting Vergil as  a Tragedy in the Cento Medea”, CW 95, 2001/02, 143–61. 2.  G. Tronchet, “Hosidius le tragique et ses modèles ovidiens”, in I. Jouteur (ed.), La théâtralité de l’œuvre ovidienne, Paris 2009, 89–137. Scott McGill (1) focuses on Hosidius Geta’s innovation, namely composing a tragedy out of a cento, and how he achieves this sort of ‘acrobatic intertextuality’ in order to accommodate Virgil to tragedy: by imitating two tragic non-Virgilian authors such as Ovid (met. 7.1–424; epist. 12; and, we must suppose, the lost Medea) and Seneca. Gilles Tronchet’s work (2) is in the same vein; however, as regards Ovid, he gives up on the speculation about the lost Medea. He adds, as against McGill, the epist. 6: “[L]a pièce d’Hosidius manifeste une curieuse familiarité avec l’univers poétique ovidien. Mais cette impression trouve à s’expliquer sans qu’il soit nécessaire de postuler une influence de la Médée perdue. L’allure de certains vers, l’agencement du propos dans certains développements, ressemble à des passages d’Ovide, en des oeuvres qui nous sont encore accessibles, où il avait traité les aventures de Jason et Médée: les

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Héroïdes VI et XII, lettres d’Hypsipyle puis de Médée au chef des Argonautes, ainsi que le début du livre VII dans les Métamorphoses” (91). Juvenal 1.  S. H. Braund, “Juvenal 8. 58–59”, CQ 31, 1981, 221–3. 2.  S. Lorenz, “Dignae Ioue irae: Ovids Deucalion und Pyrrha in Juvenals erster Satire”, Latomus 63, 2004, 892–904. 3.  K. Ehrhardt, “Cannibalizing Ovid: Allusion, Storytelling and Deception in Juvenal 15”, CJ 109, 2013/14, 481–99. Susan Braund (1) tries to unravel the sense of Iuv. 8.58–9, and for this she uses the parallel of met. 7.262–3. Sven Lorenz (2) focuses on the reference to Deucalion and Pyrrha in Iuv. 1.81–6 and its intertextual connection – albeit as an example of ‘mock epic’  – with met. 1.313–415, going  a step further to consider the relations between satire and epic in general. Kristen Ehrhardt (3) makes a metaliterary reading of Juvenal’s satire 15 (482): “Although many readings seem to stop here, this particular African incident [i. e. the scene of Egyptian cannibalism] occupies only about a third of the entire satire; to read the poem solely in light of this initial episode is to miss the broader theme of narrative deceit in the guise of literary cannibalism that runs throughout the poem”. Needless to say, Ovid’s met. occupies an outstanding position among Juvenal’s literary referents. The peculiar use of these allusions by the satirist makes them lose their gravitas, because “intertextuality becomes a vehicle for authorial deception. […] Juvenal’s repeated allusions to perverted feasts in Ovid are themselves a variety of cannibalism, in this case a literary one in which satire gorges on and surpasses epic itself ” (483). “By concluding with the figure of Pythagoras, Juvenal combines the themes of distorted feasts and false narrators with an ongoing engagement with the Metamorphoses that pushes the limits of satiric intertextuality” (485). Lucan 1.  J. Ciechanowicz, “Das Problem der Apostrophe IX,980–986 in der Pharsalia von Marcus Annaeus Lucanus”, Eos 70, 1982, 265–75. 2.  G. A. Jacobsen, Waking Visions in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses” and Lucan’s “Bellum civile”, Ph. D. Thesis Ohio State Univ. Columbus 1982. 3.  P. Esposito, “Tra una battaglia e l’altra. Tracce ovidiane nella Pharsalia”, Vichiana 16, 1987, 48–70. 4.  S. Hinds, “Generalising about Ovid”, in A. J. Boyle (ed.), The Imperial Muse. Ramus Essays on Roman Literature of the Empire. To Juvenal Through Ovid, Victoria (Austr.) 1988, 4–31 (repr. in E. Knox (ed.), Oxford Readings in Ovid, Oxford 2006, 15–50).

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5.  M. Paterni, “I colori dell’alba: nota a Lucan. Phars. II 719–721”, Maia 40, 1988, 75–7. 6.  D. C. Feeney, The Gods in Epic. Poets and Critics of the Classical Tradition, Oxford 1991. Reviews: M. Dewar, CR 42, 1992, 61–3; J. H. Gaisser, BMCR 1992.02.08; F. Graf, MH 49, 1992, 269; P. Hardie, JRS 82, 1992, 252–6; B. Rochette, LEC 60, 1992, 368; M. West, TLS 4645, 1992, 12; C. R. Beye, CW 86, 1993, 176; W. Dominik, Prudentia 25, 1993, 78–81; J. J. O’Hara, Vergilius 36, 1993, 87–96; B. Pavlock, CPh 88, 1993, 251–4; M.  Putnam, NECN 20, 1993, 35–6; P.  Toohey, Phoenix 47, 1993, 270–2; A. Ward, CO 70, 1993, 73–4; T. Yamashita, JCS 41, 1993, 110–13. 7.  E. Batinski, “Cato and the Battle with the Serpents”, SyllClass 3, 1992, 71–8. 8.  E. Fantham, “Lucan’s Medusa Excursus: Its Design and Purpose”, MD 29, 1992, 95–119. 9.  P. Esposito, La narrazione inverosimile. Aspetti dell’epica ovidiana, Napoli 1994 (Università degli Studi di Salerno. Quaderni del Dipartimento di Scienze dell’Antichità 15). Reviews: N. Scivoletto, GIF 47, 1995, 299–313; F. Zoccali, BStudLat 25, 1995, 226–7; P. E. Knox, Gnomon 70, 1998, 254–6. 10.  P. Esposito, “Lucano e Ovidio”, in I. Gallo, L. Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 57–76 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli studi di Salerno. Sez. Atti Convegni Miscellanee 43). 11.  R. Siciliano, “Lucano e Ovidio: piccolo contributo allo studio sui rapporti”, Maia 50, 1998, 309–15. 12.  C. Saylor, “Lucan and models of the introduction”, Mnemosyne 52, 1999, 545–53. 13.  K. O. Eldred, “Poetry in Motion: The Snakes of Lucan”, Helios 27, 2000, 63–74. 14.  R. J. Tarrant, “Chaos in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its Neronian influence”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 349–60. 15. S. Wheeler, “Lucan’s reception of Ovid’s Metamorphoses”, in G.  Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 361–80. 16.  M. Fucecchi, “La protesta e la rabbia del Sole: un’ipotesi su Ovidio lettore di Omero nella scena finale dell’episodio di Fetonte (Met. 2.381–400), con un’appendice su Lucano, Iliacon fr. 7 Mor. (= 6 C.)”, Sileno 28/29, 2002/03, 3–27. 17.  M. Malamud, “Pompey’s Head and Cato’s Snakes”, CPh 98, 2003, 31–44. 18.  I. Jouteur, “Au miroir de Méduse”, Euphrosyne 33, 2005, 365–77. 19.  S. Papaïoannou, “Epic Transformation in the Second Degree: The Decapita­tion of Medusa in Lucan, BC 9.619–889”, in C. Walde (ed.), Lucan im 21. Jahr­hundert, München-Leipzig 2005, 216–36.

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20.  J. Dangel, “Lucain et Méduse: les monstres dans l’épopée latine”, in E. Karamalengou, E. D. Makrygianni (eds.), Ἀντιφίλησις. Studies on Classical, Byzantine and Modern Greek Literature and Culture. In Honour of John-Theophanes A. Papademetriou, Stuttgart 2009, 531–50. 21.  J. Nagyillés, “Ovid-Allusionen bei Lucan”, ACD 42, 2006, 95–115. 22.  A. M. Keith, “Ovid in Lucan: the Poetics of Instability”, in P. Asso (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Lucan, Leiden-Boston 2011, 111–32. 23.  P. Esposito, “Prima e dopo Lucano: dai modelli della Pharsalia alla Pharsalia come modello”, in M. Citroni (ed.), Letteratura e civitas. Transizioni dalla Repubblica all’Impero. In ricordo di Emanuele Narducci, Pisa 2012, 313–26 (Testi  e studi di cultura classica 53). 24. W. Hübner, “Die Metamorphose der Korallen bei Ovid”, in J.  Althoff, S. Föllinger, G. Wöhrle (eds.), Antike Naturwissenschaft und ihre Rezeption 23, Trier 2013, 115–37. 25.  D. Nelis, “Empedoclean epic: how far can you go?”, Dictynna 11, 2014, sine pag. For  a general view of Lucan’s models (among which, met.), see Denis Feeney (6, ­250–312). One of the scholars who has dedicated the most time and energy to the presence of Ovid in Lucan’s poem is Paolo Esposito. He devotes to the subject the three chapters which form the second half of his monograph (9): (2.1) “Le battaglie in Ovidio e in Lucano” (87–106); (2.2) “Tra una battaglia  e l’altra” (107–33); (2.3) “Ovidio nei Commenta Bernensia” (135–45). In the first of these chapters (in fact, a reelaboration of 10), Esposito examines the similarities and differences between the two poets in the descriptions of battle scenes (Ov. met. 5 and 12, and Luc. 3, 4 and 6). In the second one (the reelaboration of an earlier article: 3) he makes an analogous comparison, comprehensive and detailed, but this time departing from some texts which occupy the spaces between battles in Lucan. Here the author finds  a clear example of Ovid’s pervasive presence (not only met.), but also of Lucan’s authorial independence. The third one is an interesting study as regards the indirect textual tradition of Ovid’s met. Esposito collects all the references to Ovid in these texts, one by one. These references only concern met., and are proof of the exegetical use of Ovid during the 9th–10th centuries, and probably already in the 4th century (see 144 n. 18). In a more recent article, dedicated as much to Lucan’s models as his imitators, Esposito (23) suggests that the episode of the soldiers driven by thirst in Lucan (4.324–36) could be modelled on the Ovidian narration of the plague of Aegina (met. 7.554–7). In a solid and excellently documented study (in note 16, 366–7, a very complete bibliography lists by passage the influence of met. on Lucan’s poem), Stephen Wheeler (15) asserts that the presence of met. in Lucan is greater than has been traditionally thought. He considers that Lucan makes a dark cosmological reading (chaos, flood, Phaethon, and the speech of Pythagoras) of met., and that he is also interested in

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the poem’s representation of pain and suffering. His interpretation is therefore that Lucan’s Bellum civile manifests itself, in a certain way, as a continuation and revision – in a negative tone – of the culmination of Ovid’s Metamorphoses: the deification of the Caesars. In other words, Lucan demonstrates how the Metamorphoses anticipates his own poem. Jerzy Ciechanowicz (1) interprets, based on comparisons with other passages, the apostrophe of Pharsalia 9.980–6 as addressed not to Julius Caesar, but to Nero. In this way, he justifies the allusion to the rivalry between poets, and dedicates some final considerations (274–5) to providing  a commentary on this apostrophe as a paraphrasing of the end of met. (15.861–79). The same Book 9 of the Pharsalia is taken by János Nagyillés as a base for his study (21), in which he compares some passages with models of Ovid’s work, among which some correspond to met. (8.494–6; 14.560–1; 13.518–19). Garrett Jacobsen focuses the third and last chapter of his brief Ph.D. thesis (2, 100–27) on the comparative study of “Ovid and Lucan: Waking Visions and Structure”. His starting point is this (101): “In Ovid and Lucan the use of waking visions corresponds to thematic necessity; the visions act as focal points for plot and theme. […] A comparative analysis of the waking visions in the two epics will reveal a similarity of artistic treatment and purpose: the emphasis with similar language of the pictorial nature of these visions and their origins in the mind of each character; and the use of these visions to articulate structure, theme, and characterization”. Stephen Hinds devotes some attention (4, 26–9) to the possible debt of Lucan’s invocation to Nero (1.45–58) vis-à-vis the Ovidian Phaethon. In  a note dedicated to interpreting the exact sense of the expression albaque nondum / lux rubet (Luc. 2.720–1), Marco Paterni (5) defends that its meaning is et alba lux nondum rubet, using as proof the probable Ovidian model of met. 15.188–95. Together with met. 6.46–9, this assertion allows him to claim that the chromatic succession of dawn is expressed by the terms albus > rubere > candidus. Raimondo Siciliano (11) offers, and briefly comments on, a list of Ovidian phraseological echoes in Lucan, of which some – the minority – share the narrative context of their model. The article by Charles Saylor (12) is dedicated to showing that in the general configuration of the opening of Lucan’s Pharsalia, well-known openings of the works by Lucretius, Virgil (Aen.), Horace (carm. 1.2) and, for our purpose, met. 1.168–292 come into play. Richard Tarrant (14) studies the reception of Ovid’s ‘expanded notion of chaos’, physical and moral, both by Seneca’s Thyestes, as compared to Tereus’ episode (met. 6.424–674), and in the opening of Lucan’s poem (1.67, 72–80), where this dark reading foreshadows the breakdown of human institutions in civil war. Marco Fucecchi reserves the appendix for an article about Ovid’s Homeric sources (16, 21–7), which develops the hypothesis of a possible combined imitation of Homer and Ovid in the fragment of Lucan’s Iliacon (fr. 7 Mor. = 6 C.). Elaine Fantham (8) explores Lucan’s use of the Ovidian Medusa myth. Martha Malamud (17) starts from Ovid’s use of the Medusa figure (met. 4.695–803) in

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contexts of violence and civil war, and also as an emblem of a peculiar sort of artistic production, “two themes that will preoccupy Lucan […]. As  a figure that presides over the boundaries between original and imitation, victor and victim, self and other, living and dead, and life and art, the Gorgon’s head is an emblem not just of civil war, but of Lucan’s own artistic production, Civil War” (32). Both works, together with others which address the survival of Ovid in a collateral way, are examined by Sophia Papaïoannou (19). She emphasises the idea of Ovid’s strong influence on Lucan, which she tries to show by analysing the same episodes of Perseus, and of Cato and the snakes (BC 9; on the Ovidian background of this latter episode, see also Batinski 7, Eldred 13, and Dangel, 20, who only mentions Ovid briefly in passing, on p. 543). As she takes it, “the poet of the Pharsalia distinctly echoes the Ovidian language as he embraces Ovid’s propensity for emphasizing the spectacular and a broader skepticism on the ideology of epic heroism” (222). In the same year, Isabelle Jouteur also published an article on the same Medusa character, and the comparison between both episodes (18), although Jouteur focuses more on the characteristics which convert the Gorgon into “porte-parole de préoccupations esthétiques pour le premier [i. e. Ovid], et politiques pour le second [i. e. Lucan]” (367; she does not appear to be aware of Malamud’s study, which stresses the same quality in Lucan). Damien Nelis (25, esp. §§ 25–7) attempts to identify Empedoclean elements in Lucan’s epic, through comparison with Ovid’s. Alison Keith argues that Lucan draws “on Ovidian subjects, themes, and poetic techniques to trace fissures in the optimistic Virgilian epic paradigm. Lucan’s Bellum Civile enjoys pride of place in this dual reception of Virgil and Ovid as the first example of large-scale negotiation of the Aeneid through the lens of the Metamorphoses” (22, 111–2). From this dual perspective, she examines various passages of Lucan, as well as some rhetorical techniques and witticisms taken by Lucan from Ovid. Wolfgang Hübner (24) analyses Perseus’ battles against the marine monster and Phineus (met. 4.604–5.249), paying special attention to the metamorphosis of the corals (met. 4.740–52), while at the same time comparing the Ovidian episode with its reflections in Manilius (5) and Lucan (9). Manilius 1.  L. Baldini Moscadi, “Per un’interpretazione di Manil. 1, 926: una reminiscenza ovidiana”, SIFC 53, 1981, 233–45. 2.  V. Cristóbal, “Perseo y Andrómeda: Versiones antiguas y modernas”, CFC 23, 1989, 51–96. 3.  L. Baldini Moscadi, “Il mito adombrato o l’età dell’oro ritrovata (Manilio, Astr. 5,270–292)”, Prometheus 17, 1991, 173–85. 4.  C. Salemme, Introduzione agli Astronomica di Manilio, Napoli 1983 (20002; Bollettino di Studi Latini 39). Reviews of the 1983 edition: A.  Le Bœuffle, REL 61, 1983, 394–5; P. della Morte, BStudLat 14, 1984, 138–40; J.  Soubiran, REA 86, 1984, 372–3; S. Cos-

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tanza, Orpheus 6, 1985, 182–6; A.  Ramírez de Verger, Emerita 54, 1986, 358–9; C. Harrauer, WS 100, 1987, 335; C. Santini, Latomus 46, 1987, 631–2. Reviews of the second edition: F.  Corsaro, Orpheus 22, 2001, 401–3; B.  Bak­ houche, RPh 76, 2002, 178–9; C. Bonnet, LEC 70, 2002, 202–3; E. Calderón Dorda, Emerita 70, 2002, 179–81; F.  Comparelli, RCCM 44, 2002, 171–4; P.-J. Dehon, AC 71, 2002, 335; L. Landolfi, BStudLat 32, 2002, 688–90; J. Soubiran, REL 80, 2002, 370; J.-H. Abry, Latomus 62, 2003, 728–9; J.-Y. Guillaumin, REA 106, 2004, 318–19; S. Rocca, Maia 56, 2004, 194–5. 5.  L. Baldini Moscadi, “La Medea maniliana: Manilio interprete di Ovidio”, Prometheus 19, 1993, 225–9. 6.  L. Landolfi, “Andromeda: intreccio di modelli  e punti di vista in Manilio”, GIF 45, 1993, 171–94. 7.  E. Flores, “Il poeta Manilio, ultimo degli Augustei,  e Ovidio”, in I. Gallo, L. Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 27–38 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli studi di Salerno. Sez. Atti Convegni Miscellanee 43). 8.  S. Wheeler, “Into new bodies: the incipit of Ovid’s Metamorphoses as intertext in imperial Latin literature”, MD 61, 2008, 146–60. 9.  L. Fratantuono, “Andromeda, Perseus, and the end of the Astronomica”, Maia 64, 2012, 305–15. 10. W. Hübner, “Die Metamorphose der Korallen bei Ovid”, in J.  Althoff, S. Föllinger, G. Wöhrle (eds.), Antike Naturwissenschaft und ihre Rezeption 23, Trier 2013, 115–37. Some general considerations about the relation between the poetic journeys of Manilius and Ovid can be found in chapter IV.4 (“Mito ed evoluzione poetica in Manilio”) of Carmelo Salemme’s book (4, 99–106). Salemme points out that Manilius evolves, throughout the proems to each of his books, from the pre-Ovidian vates figure, pursuing the transmission of a scientific veritas, towards a posture more typical of an Alexandrian poëta (Book 5). The poetic evolution of Ovid was quite the opposite, but the evolution itself – from one position to another – brings together the two poets, making the paths of both writers compatible. Loretta Baldini Moscadi (1) reviews various explanations of the controversial last verse of Manilius’ laus Augusti, in turn the last of his first book (1.926). She takes this as referring to Julius Caesar, exactly because of Ovid’s corresponding laus Augusti (met. 15.818–31 and 858–60). In a later article (3), the same author draws attention to the more pessimistic tone of Manilius in his representation of the Golden Age (5.270–92), as compared with Virgil, Horace, Propertius and Ovid. While Baldini Moscadi does not rule out in principle that, rather than recreating the Myth of the Ages, Manilius could be making a typically rhetorical and conventional denunciation of luxury, in the end she admits the presence of the Golden Age motif through comparison with the contemporary treatment of Germanicus (96–137). Finally, the same

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author has another article (5) in which she identifies mythological and phraseological doubts of Manilius towards Ovid in his treatment of Medea’s character (met. 5.34–5, 465–8, and esp. 3.9–13). In his review of the documentation of Perseus and Andromeda’s myth in Greek, Latin and Spanish literature, Vicente Cristóbal addresses (2, 64–6) its presence in Manilius and compares this, among other texts, with the Ovidian treatment (met. 4.610–5.249). Luciano Landolfi (6) focuses on Manilius’ Andromeda (5.540–618) in comparison with Ovid’s (met. 4.670–764), and tries to go beyond the elegiac-epic contrast with which both had been compared. Landolfi believes that Manilius tries to clear out Ovid’s verbose rhetoric from the episode, as well as moving the focus of attention from Perseus to the pugnandi causa, i. e. Andromeda, with the structural implications this brings for the narrative. Manilius, on the other hand, turns for his character to other heroines abandoned, or victims of religious superstition, like Catullus’ Ariadne, or Ovid’s (epist. 10), or Lucretius’ Iphigeneia. The same episode of Andromeda is used by Enrico Flores (7, 34) to illustrate the differences in poetic imprint between Manilius and Ovid. His article, however, is mostly dedicated to studying the affinity between the two poets, from the relation between Manilius’ proem (1.6 and 13–14) and Ovid’s Pythagoras (met. 15.146–9), with its programmatic and even political implications, to some phraseological echoes which show the debt of Manilius to Ovid. Flores even gives an example of what he interprets as an imitation of Manilius by Ovid: according to the chronology he proposes, in Pont. 4.4.41 (inde domum repetes toto comitante senatu), written at the end of 13 ce, Ovid would be taking up Manil. 4.59–60 (totiens praedicta cavere / vulnera non potuit: toto spectante senatu), “probabilmente della fine dell’11” (33). Stephen Wheeler (8) considers how the Ovidian incipit was polemically imitated by Manilius (3.1–4) and, from both Manilius and Ovid, by the author of the Aetna (6–8; tangentially he also mentions its presence in Stat. silv. 2.7.78) “as evidence for the reception of Ovid’s masterwork” (149). Lee Fratantuono’s article (9) revolves around the Perseus-Andromeda episode: he focuses on aspects of the originality of Manilius’ work as regards his models, especially Ovid. For him “Manilius’ epic is nothing less than an attempt to start a new tradition in Latin hexameter composition, the birth of a Stoic poetic cycle to rival the Epicurean works of Virgil and Ovid” (306); “The Astronomica, then, is a new didactic epic for a new political and historical era, a De rerum natura, if one will, for the principate” (313). For the chapter by Wolfgang Hübner (10), see ‘Lucan’. Martial 1.  J. P. Sullivan, Martial: the unexpected classic, Cambridge 1991. Reviews: D.  Fowler, G&R 39, 1992, 232–4; J.  Gérard, REL 70, 1992, 314–15; C. Segal, TLS 4656, 1992, 5–6; L. Ascher, CW 86, 1993, 522; K. M. Coleman, JRS 83, 1993, 221–2; R. Colton, CO 70, 1993, 76; D. Estefanía, Emerita 61, 1993, 392–3; M.  Dondin-Payre, AC 62, 1993, 483–4; E.  Fantham, Phoenix 47, 1993, 359–62;

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J. Gaisser, BMCR 1993.01.20; P. Howell, CR 43, 1993, 275–8; W. R. Johnson, CJ 88, 1993, 87–90; M. C. de Castro-Maia de Sousa Pimentel, Euphrosyne 23, 1995, 491–8; H. Perdicoyianni, LEC 65, 1997, 88. 2.  G. Maselli, “Transparenza bloccante: suggestioni interestuali in Marziale 4, 22”, Aufidus 24, 1994, 49–54. 3.  M. Ruiz Sánchez, “Figuras del deseo: arte de la variación en Marcial y en Ovidio”, CFC(L) 14, 1998, 93–113. 4.  H. Szelest, “Ovid und Martial”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65.  Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, II, 861–4. 5.  C. Williams, “Ovid, Martial, and Poetic Immortality: Traces of Amores 1.15 in the Epigrams”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 417–33. 6.  R. Moreno Soldevila, “Water, Desire, and the Elusive Nature of Martial IV 22”, ExClass 7, 2003, 149–63. 7.  S. Hinds, “Martial’s Ovid / Ovid’s Martial”, JRS 97, 2007, 113–54. 8.  G. Rosati, “Ovid in Flavian Occasional Poetry (Martial and Statius)”, in J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands (eds.), A Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester (New Sussex) 2014, 55–69. For Martial’s complex borrowing from Ovid in metapoetic contexts, see the brief but interesting observations by John Sullivan (1, 105–7). The article by Marcos Ruiz (3) investigates the relation between the appearance (explicit or implicit) of the metamorphosis motif, and the topic of desire, in Martial’s ‘epideictic’ epigrams, and offers (107–13)  a comparison between Mart. 4.22 (esp. ll. 3–8) and Ov. met. 4.354–8 (Salmacis and Hermaphroditus). The comparison of these same texts (in fact, already suggested by Friedlaender in 1886) is the focus of articles by Giorgio Maselli (1), and Rosa Moreno (6), who explains the symbolism of Martial’s epigram within the frame of Book 4 and adds other elegiac contexts of Ovid. The note by Hanna Szelest (4) illustrates, using different types of examples, “welch grossen Einfluss Ovids Sprache und Metrik auf die Epigramme des Dichters aus Bilbilis ausgeübt haben” (864). Craig Williams’ chapter (5) does not deal properly with met., but alludes to its closing lines, while trailing the topic of poetic immortality in Martial’s epigrams. Stephen Hinds’ long article (7) offers a thorough analysis of some 40 epigrams and their Ovidian background. It is divided into three sections: 1) Martial’s Ars amatoria; 2) Martial’s Tristia; and 3) Martial’s Metamorphoses. In this last section (136–54, with the sub-sections “Deflating Epic Myth”, “Material Miniatures”, and “Ovid’s Liber Spectaculorum”) he deals mainly with the aesthetics of myth in the Roman arena, and offers a way of reading Martial through Ovid, but also Ovid through Martial. Rosati (8) investigates the presence of Ovid’s poems – met. included – in Flavian occasional poetry, namely the epigrams of Martial and the Silvae of Statius.

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Petronius 1.  A. Perutelli, “Enotea, la capanna  e il rito magico. L’intreccio dei modelli in Petron. 135–136”, MD 17, 1986, 125–43. 2.  H. M. Currie, “Petronius and Ovid”, en C.  Deroux (ed.), Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History V, Bruxelles 1989, 317–35. 3.  G. Sommariva, “Il barbiere di Mida (Petr. Satyr. fr. 28 Ernout)”, FAM 1, 1991, 107–17. 4.  B. Baldwin, “Petronius and Ovid”, Eranos 90, 1992, 63. 5.  J. Nagore, “La parodia de Ovidio en Petronio, Sat., c. 126”, AFC 15, 1997, 167–79. 6.  R. Dimundo, “L’episodio di Circe e Polieno alla luce dei modelli epico-elegiaci (Petr. 126)”, Euphrosyne 26, 1998, 49–79. 7.  J. Fabre-Serris, Mythologie et littérature à Rome. La réécriture des mythes aux I ers siècles avant et après J.-C., Lausanne 1998. Reviews: F. Cupaiolo, BStudLat 29, 1999, 223–4; A. Deremetz, REL 77, 1999, 332–3; R. Le Mer, Archives de sciences sociales des religions 108, 1999, 72–3; B. Powell, BMCR 1999.09.06; F. Prescendi, MH 56, 1999, 255; P. Desy, AC 69, 2000, 344–5; P. Fedeli, Aufidus 14.42, 2000, 133–4; M. Fox, JRS 90, 2000, 236–7; N. Méthy, RBPh 78, 2000, 204–6; B. Rochette, Kernos 13, 2000, 310–13. 8.  A. Setaioli, “La poesia in Petr. Sat. 135.8”, Prometheus 36, 2010, 241–56. 9.  M. Carmignani, “Eumolpus poeta: Ovidio y la ultima manus en Sat. 118”, Prometheus 37, 2011, 169–78. 10.  C. Mazzilli, “Dedalo  e Pigmalione: la parodia dell’ékphrasis nel Satyricon”, Argos 34, 2011, 31–53. 11.  M. von Albrecht, “Ovid and the Novel”, in M. P. Futre Pinheiro, S. J. Harrison (eds.),  Fictional Traces. Receptions of the Ancient Novel, Groningen 2012, I, 3–19 (Ancient Narrative Supplementum 14.1). 12.  M. Carmignani, “Ille quidem totam gemebundus obambulat Aetnen: el Cíclope ovidiano como inspiración paródica en Petronio, Sat. 100.3–5”, Emerita 80, 2012, 355–70. 13. P. Habermehl, “Die Magie des Wortes: Thema und Variationen in den poetischen Einlagen Petron, Sat. 134–135”, Gymnasium 121, 2014, 355–73. Michael von Albrecht (11) studies the relationship between Ovid and the novel, and shows (6–10)  a case of obvious reception in Petronius: both writers are united by their common aim of parodying epic. He also reads (10–14) Petronius’ character of Oenothea (135.7–15) in the light of both Ovid’s Philemon and Baucis, and Callimachus’ Hecale. These obvious models had already been examined in the previous article by Alessandro Perutelli (1), as well as – en passant – in the chapter by Harry MacL.

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Currie (2, 328–9). Aldo Setaioli (8, esp. 251–4) is primarily interested in offering a thorough textual analysis of the fragment. Peter Habermehl (13) also studies the poetic interludes contained in Petr. 134–5, with its main themes of ‘hospitality’ and ‘magic’, as ‘subversive homage’ to Callimachus and Ovid. Harry MacL. Currie offers pages (2) full of interesting general considerations about characteristics and attitudes common to Ovid and Petronius. He asserts that both share an interest in – as well as an ability for – the material details of the world (viz. colour). He also notes in both a “similarity in aesthetic outlook” (323), and points out their shared facility for the portrait, as well as their interest in psychology and physiognomy. “Mocking, iconoclastic on occasion, detached, observant, witty, enormously literate and cultivated, refined, sensitive to beauty, intelligent with a great range of awareness, sensual and strongly erotic – these are a few of the terms which could be with justice applied to both” (334). In an extremely brief note with the same title (4), Barry Baldwin points out that the words duris haerentia mora rubetis, from verse 3 of the epigram Anth. Lat. 694 R 2 (48 M), are a literal imitation of met. 1.105, which backs up Currie’s thesis that the Ovidian poem was a major and direct influence on the Satyricon. The object of Grazia Sommariva’s study (3) is also a fragment, in this case a poetic fragment already attributed to Petronius by Scaliger (fr. 28 Ernout = Anth. Lat. 464–79 R 2 . = 462–77 Shackleton Bailey). Among the elements which reflect its learned nature, this scholar analyses how concisely Petronius remakes the Ovidian episode of King Midas in Book 11. Though the presence of met. is pervasive in Jacqueline Fabre-Serris’ book (6), the author devotes particularly the second chapter of the second part, “Devenirs de l’héritage troyen” (149–68), to analysing the reception of the Trojan saga, as consolidated in the canonical versions of the Aeneid and met., in Baebius’ Ilias Latina, Nero’s Troica, Seneca’s Troades and Agamemnon, and Petronius’ romance. Marcos Carmignani (9) focuses especially on the ars poetica of Eumolpus in Petr. 118, just before the recitation of Bellum Civile, and specifically in the expression tamquam, si placet, hic impetus, etiam si nondum recepit ultimam manum. Carmignani connects Eumolpus’ impetus (“improvisación”) with Ovid’s Tristia. Through the well-known passage 1.7.27–30, the reference to the ultima manus would be useful for Eumolpus, alluding ex silentio to the Aeneid and the Metamorphoses with the “cruel ironía del auctor absconditus” (177), to insinuate that the subsequent Bellum Civile is his masterpiece. In another, later article (12), this scholar examines Petronius’ parody of the Homeric cyclops (100.3–5), using the intermediation of Ovid’s hypotext. Specifically, he considers that Petronius’ expression tremebundisque manibus (100.5) is an allusion to met. 14.188: Ille quidem totam gemebundus obambulat Aetnen, and that it is “la pista que nos deja Petronio para comprender que la reacción de Encolpio carece absolutamente de decorum” (368). Claudia Mazzilli (10) focuses on the ironic use of ecphrasis by Petronius, and analyses the description of Circe (126.13–18) as regards the hypotext of Pygmalion (met. 10.238–97). Rosalba Dimundo (6, 72–5) suggests the source of Daphne (met. 1.495–502), while Josefina Nagore (5) points out certain passages of Ovid’s elegiac work as the model of Chrysis’ entire speech.

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Pliny the Elder 1.  H. Zehnacker, “Pline l’Ancien lecteur d’Ovide et de Sénèque (N. H. XXXIII,​ 1–3)”, in H. Zehnacker, G. Hentz (eds.), Hommages à Robert Schilling, Paris 1983, 437–46. 2.  F. Borca, “Metamorfosi palustri: nota a Ov. Met. 15.356–58 e Plin. NH 8.81”, Lexis 16, 1998, 223–9. 3.  O. Nikitinski, “Überlegungen zum Verhältnis des älteren Plinius zu Ovid”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, II, 815–41. The general conclusion of the chapter by Oleg Nikitinski is (3, 824): “Es scheint, dass Plinius ausser Halieutica und De medicamine faciei nur Fasten und Metamorphosen – sehr sporadisch  – benutzt (die meisten möglichen Parallelen aus Metamorphosen stammen aus dem XV. Buch)”. Hubert Zehnacker (1) maintains that Pliny’s expression (33.1) mirantes dehiscere aliquando aut intremescere illam [sc. tellurem] is inspired by met. 2.272–8 and 301–3, and that slightly further on (33.3, e.g. quam innocens, quam beata, immo vero etiam delicata esset vita, si nihil aliunde quam supra terras concupisceret, breviterque, nisi quod secum est!) Pliny is also inspired, although maintaining a certain independence, by Ovid’s descriptions of the Golden Age, particularly that of Book 1, although Pliny distances himself especially by means of his rationalist focus: “Pour stigmatiser les vices de son temps et tracer en quelques mots les perspectives d’une vie plus saine et plus heureuse, Pline s’est souvenu d’un ensemble de textes poétiques sur l’âge d’or, parmi lesquels les Métamorphoses d’Ovide tiennent la première place” (445). Federico Borca (2) compares a passage of Ovid (met. 15.356–8) with another from Pliny (8.81) to illustrate one aspect of the representation of the swamp’s place in Roman culture: “l’acquitrino come spazio di raccordo e comunicazione tra la dimensione mondana e quella ultramondana, come luogo di passaggio per l’‘altrove’” (223). Priapea –  E. Magnelli, “Capri  e porci: Priap. 65  e i suoi modelli ellenistico-romani”, Dictynna 11, 2014, sine pag. Enrico Magnelli analyses some Hellenistic sources of carmen 65 of Priapea. He adds the reference to met. 15.111–15, where the bloody sacrifice of a pig and a goat is mentioned, although in the final text “tra i due animali ivi menzionati, l’avido ed astuto dio degli orti abbia diretto le sue mire non sul capro bensì sul più appetitoso suino. Ancora una volta, i Carmina Priapea si divertono a reinterpretare il patrimonio letterario del passato in modo scherzosamente irriverente” (§ 6).

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Quintilian 1.  A. G. Elliott, “Ovid and the critics: Seneca, Quintilian, and “seriousness””, Helios 12, 1985, 9–20. 2.  U. Todini, “Ovidio ‘lascivo’ in Quintiliano”, in I. Gallo, L.  Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 77–119 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli studi di Salerno. Sez. Atti Convegni Miscellanee 43). 3.  L. Morgan, “Child’s Play: Ovid and His Critics”, JRS 93, 2003, 66–91. For other studies dealing with antique criticism on Ovid, see ‘Reception and Pervivence in Antiquity – Latin Literature – General’. Here we collect other studies which focus on the adverse opinion that, in the wake of both Senecas, Quintilian published about Ovid. This has maintained its influence, at least until the second half of the 20th century. Alison Elliott (1) starts from the judgements of Seneca the Elder and Quintilian, and then records their influence on other critics during the Middle Ages, the Renaissance and the modern era. Next, she reflects on the shortcomings of the opinions of the critics themselves, namely Seneca and Quintilian, which seem not to have been questioned (18): “Ovid’s challenge to generic expectations resulted in the critical isolation of his poem [i. e. met.]”. On the same topic, Umberto Todini (2) offers  a detailed study of the 20 or so passages of Quintilian’s work which are linked to Ovid. He analyses the critical opinion of the magister, which, according to Todini, is responsible “in larga misura della quasi millenaria sfortuna critica del poeta” (119). Quintilian’s adverse opinion is initially based on the “incontinenza di stile”, and he applies it by means of words such as lascivus, lascivire, ludere, iocus… This negative judgement is largely due to those of both Senecas and, in conclusion, to Ovid’s systematic transgression of the principles put forward by Horace for epos in his Ars poetica. Finally, Llewelyn Morgan (3, esp. 69–73 and 89–91) goes into further depth along the same lines as Elliott, and broadens the repertoire of criticism directed at Ovid’s work, particularly met. He explores the excessive dependence of this criticism on the principle of decorum, which is the main limitation of Seneca the Elder and Quintilian’s opinions, and shows how Ovid subverts, by emphasising childishness, traditional epic values such as masculinity, authority and adulthood. Seneca Philosopher 1.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Seneca emulo di Ovidio nella rappresentazione del diluvio universale (Nat. Quaest. 3,27,13 sgg.)”, A&R 29, 1984, 143–61. 2.  C. P. Segal, “Senecan Baroque: The Death of Hippolytus in Seneca, Ovid, and Euripides”, TAPhA 114, 1984, 311–25. 3.  J. T. Gahan, “Imitation in Seneca, Phaedra 1000–1115”, Hermes 116, 1988, 122–4.

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4.  R. Jakobi, Der Einfluss Ovids auf den Tragiker Seneca, Berlin-New York 1988 (Untersuchungen zur antiken Literatur und Geschichte 28). Reviews: H. Zehnacker, REL 66, 1988, 313–14; J. Delz, MH 46, 1989, 257–8; R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, A&R 35, 1990, 117–20; E. Fantham, Gnomon 62, 1990, 271–3; R. Mayer, CR 40, 1990, 276–7; B. Rochette, AC 59, 1990, 372–5; F. Stok, GIF 62, 1990, 163–5; F.  Decreus, Latomus 50, 1991, 712–16; P.  Venini, Athena­ eum 69, 1991, 319–20. 5.  F. M. Dunn, “A prose hexameter in Seneca? (Consolatio ad Marciam 26.7)”, AJPh 110, 1989, 488–91. 6.  P. Esposito, “Una citazione ovidiana in Seneca”, Vichiana 18, 1989, 52–62. 7.  F. Stok, “Modelli delle Troades di Seneca: Ovidio”, QCTC 6–7, 1988/89, 225–41. 8.  A. De Vivo, “Parole oscure, oscure caverne (Ov. met. I 388, Sen. nat. V 14, 1)”, Vichiana 18, 1989, 297–305. 9.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, Tra Ovidio e Seneca, Bologna 1990 (Edizioni e Saggi Universitari di Filologia Classica 44). Reviews: G.  Nuzzo, BStudLat 21, 1991, 58–62; A.  Borgo, Orpheus 13, 1992, 413–15; L.  Castagna, Prometheus 18, 1992, 92–4; C. D. N. Costa, CR 42, 1992, 196–7; P. Esposito, Vichiana 3, 1992, 270–4; G. Garbarino, CCC 13, 1992, 357–8; E. Mignogna, Maia 44, 1992, 215–16; M. L. Ricci, InvLuc 13/14, 1991/92, 315–17; F. Stok, GIF 44, 1992, 150–1; D. Weber, WS 105, 1992, 271–2; P.-J. Dehon, Latomus 52, 1993, 931–2; G. Focardi, Sileno 19, 1993, 596; M. Tartari Chersoni, RFIC 121, 1993, 226–8. 10.  A. Borgo, “Presenza ovidiana in Seneca. Un difficile rapporto tra poesia  e filosofia”, in A. De Vivo, L. Spina (eds.), ‘Come dice il poeta…’. Percorsi greci e latini di parole poetiche, Napoli 1992, 131–8. 11.  R. Nickel, “Vergleichendes Interpretieren”, AU 36, 1993, 37–53. 12.  G. Mader, “The Ovidian allusion at Seneca, Troades 1048”, Mnemosyne 48, 1995, 86–9. 13.  S. A. Cecchin, “Medea in Ovidio fra elegia ed epos”, in R. Uglione (ed.), Atti delle giornate di studio su Medea (Torino 23–24 ottobre 1995), Torino 1997, 69–89. 14.  M. Ciappi, “Contaminazioni fra tradizioni letterarie affini di ascendenza tragica nel racconto ovidiano del mito di Procne e Filomela (met. VI 587–666)”, Maia 50, 1998, 433–63. 15.  A. De Vivo, “Seneca scienziato  e Ovidio”, in I. Gallo, L.  Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 39–56 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli studi di Salerno. Sez. Atti Convegni Miscellanee 43; repr. in A.  De Vivo, Frammenti di discorsi ovidiani, Napoli 2011, 138–54). 16.  R. Roncali, “Ovidio, il mito di Dedalo e il tiranno”, QS 46, 1997, 45–58.

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17.  J. M. Bañales Leoz, “Ovidio en la prosa de Séneca”, in J. L. Vidal, A.  Alvar Ezquerra (eds.), IX congreso español de estudios clásicos: Madrid, 27 al 30 de septiembre de 1995, Madrid 1998, V, 43–7. 18.  J. Fabre-Serris, Mythologie et littérature à Rome. La réécriture des mythes aux I ers siècles avant et après J.-C., Lausanne 1998. Reviews: uid. supra ‘Petronius’. 19.  J. Dangel, “Orphée sous le regard de Virgile, Ovide et Sénèque: trois arts poétiques”, REL 77, 1999, 87–117. 20.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Dedalo, Catone e un’eco ovidiana (met. VIII 185 s) in Seneca (prov. 2,10)”, Maia 54, 2002, 19–26. 21.  R. J. Tarrant, “Chaos in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and its Neronian influence”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 349–60. 22.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Finale di tragedia: il destino di Ippolito dalla Grecia a Roma”, SIFC 4 ser. 1, 2003, 160–82. 23.  A. Schiesaro, The Passions in Play. Thyestes and the Dynamics of Senecan Drama, Cambridge 2003. Reviews: F. R. Chaumartin, REL 81, 2003, 398–9; J.-P. Aygon, REA 106, 2004, 660–2; P. J. Davis, NECJ 31, 2004, 344–6; G. W. M. Harrison, BMCR 2004.07.37; G. D. Williams, Hermathena 176, 2004, 104–8; E. Wilson, TLS 5272, 2004, 4–6; W. M. Calder, CW 98, 2005, 470–1; R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, Gnomon 77, 2005, 505–10; S. M. Goldberg, Phoenix 59, 2005, 396–8; M. Leigh, JRS 95, 2005, 291–2; J. A. Smith, CR 55, 2005, 540–1; P. Hardie, RFIC 134, 2006, 357–61; J.-A. Shelton, Vergilius 52, 2006, 216–21. 24.  M. Janka, “Senecas Phaedra: Des Dramas Kern und sein episch-elegischer Rahmen”, in J. Fugmann et al. (eds.), Theater, Theaterpraxis, Theaterkritik im kaiserzeitlichen Rom. Kolloquium anlässlich des 70.  Geburtstages von Prof. Dr. Peter Lebrecht Schmidt, 24./25. Juli 2003, München 2004, 25–57. 25.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Gli sparsa miracula di Ovidio (Met. 2.193) e Seneca (Epist. 90.43)”, Prometheus 31, 2005, 59–64. 26.  R. R. Marchese, Figli benefattori, figli straordinari. Rappresentazioni senecane dell’“essere figlio”, Palermo 2005. Reviews: M. Armisen-Marchetti, REL 84, 2006, 389–91; N. Baglivi, BStudLat 36, 2006, 291–2; F. Ficca, Vichiana 8, 2006, 318–28; S. Stucchi, Aevum 80, 2006, 281–3; F.-R. Chaumartin, Latomus 67, 2008, 249–50; R. Fenga, Maia 60, 2008, 147–55; B. Ranieri, Aufidus 25.73, 2011, 120–3. 27.  R. Roncali, “La voce della metamorfosi”, Phaos 5, 2005, 75–82. 28.  P. Parroni, “La fine di Ippolito in Euripide, Ovidio  e Seneca  e il problema dell’ambientazione dei due Ippoliti Euripidei”, Myrtia 21, 2006, 65–73. 29.  R. Tarrant, “Seeing Seneca Whole?”, in K. Volk, G. D. Williams (eds.), Seeing

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Seneca Whole. Perspectives on Philosophy, Poetry, and Politics, Leiden-Boston 2006, 1–17. 30.  I. Gildenhard, A. Zissos, “Barbarian variations: Tereus, Procne and Philomela in Ovid (Met. 6.412–674) and Beyond”, Dictynna 4, 2007, sine pag. 31.  C. Torre, “Tra Ovidio e Seneca: la traccia dell’epos di Pitagora nel programma filosofico delle Naturales quaestiones”, in A. Costazza (ed.), La poesia filosofica. Milano, 7–9 marzo 2007, Milano 2007, 45–61 (Quaderni di Acme 98). 32.  A. De Vivo, “Il volo di Fetonte da Ovidio a Seneca”, GIF 61, 2009, 123–37 (repr. in A. De Vivo, Frammenti di discorsi ovidiani, Napoli 2011, 62–76). 33.  S. Hinds, “Seneca’s Ovidian loci”, SIFC 9, 2011, 5–63. 34.  A. La Penna, “Il regno dell’Erinni: un’eco significativa di Ovidio nell’Octavia”, Maia 63, 2011, 88–9. 35.  A. Basile, “Il mito di Atteone tra Ovidio e Seneca tragico”, Vichiana 14, 2012, 222–34. 36.  F. R. Berno, “Non solo acqua: elementi per un diluvio universale nel terzo libro delle Naturales quaestiones”, in M. Beretta, F. Citti, L. Pasetti (eds.), Seneca e le scienze naturali, Firenze 2012, 49–68 (Biblioteca di Nuncius 68). 37.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Medea tra terra, ‘acque’ e cielo: sul prologo della Medea di Seneca”, in L. Landolfi (ed.), ‘Ibo, ibo qua praerupta protendit iuga / meus Cithaeron’. Paesaggi, luci  e ombre nei prologhi tragici senecani. Incontri sulla poesia latina di età imperiale (IV), Bologna 2012, 31–50 (Testi e manuali per l’insegnamento universitario del latino. Nuova serie 122). 38.  L. Landolfi, “Orografia di delitti: Seneca, Edipo  e il monte maledetto: per un’interpretazione del «prologo» delle Phoenissae”, in L.  Landolfi (ed.), ‘Ibo, ibo qua praerupta protendit iuga / meus Cithaeron’. Paesaggi, luci  e ombre nei prologhi tragici senecani. Incontri sulla poesia latina di età imperiale (IV), Bologna 2012, 51–69 (Testi e manuali per l’insegnamento universitario del latino. Nuova serie 122). 39.  O. Mignacca, “Modelli augustei per le personificazioni infernali in Seneca tragico: spunti di riflessione”, in G.  Moretti, A.  Bonandini (eds.), Persona ficta: la personificazione allegorica nella cultura antica fra letteratura, retorica  e iconografia, Trento 2012, 283–99 (Labirinti 147). 40.  P. Parroni, “Il linguaggio “drammatico” di Seneca scienziato”, in M. Beretta, F. Citti, L. Pasetti (eds.), Seneca e le scienze naturali, Firenze 2012, 19–29 (Biblioteca di Nuncius 68). 41.  L. Walsh, “The metamorphoses of Seneca’s Medea”, Ramus 41, 2012, 71–93. 42.  D. Curley, Tragedy in Ovid. Theater, Metatheater, and the Transformation of a Genre, Cambridge 2013. Reviews: N. Holzberg, Gymnasium 121, 2014, 613–14; G. Silva, Euphrosyne 43, 2015, 395–6; J. B. DeBrohun, CR 67, 2017, 416–18.

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For Seneca’s criticism of Ovid, see ‘Reception and Pervivence in Antiquity – Latin Literature – General’, ‘Quintilian’ and ‘Seneca Rhetor’. For the tragic Seneca see also ‘Sources and Models – Ancient Greek Authors – Tragedy’. A brief general overview of Seneca’s indebtedness to Virgil, Ovid, and Horace can be found in Tarrant (29, esp. 1–5). A general work about the tragic Seneca is the monograph of Rainer Jakobi (4). This builds on his previous Ph.D. thesis (Bonn 1986), in which he makes an exhaustive analysis of the diverse modalities of ‘Imitationtechnik’ (a list of them is on 202–8), wherein the younger Seneca continually mentions Ovid’s poems in each of his tragedies. Among these stands out met. (passages listed in 220–8), and Jakobi adds new passages and information to the information available in previous studies and commentaries. Stephen Hinds (33) makes a very rich and detailed study, organised according to Seneca’s themes and sagas. Hinds attempts to go beyond Jakobi’s selection and pick out other, less obvious details of Seneca’s Ovidianism (9): “I shall be alert not just to strongly signalled allusions but also to a kind of background Ovidianism (if I may so term it) discernible within the seemingly indiscriminate intertextuality of a Senecan topos. The aim will be to complement the expected purple passages with some larger (if less tidy) impressions of the dramatic, rhetorical and conceptual space which Ovid and his poetry occupy in Seneca’s tragic imagination”. It is not coincidence, therefore, that  a student of Hinds, Dan Curley, has also recently published  a monograph with very interesting observations on the tragic Seneca’s debt to Ovid (42, 225–33),  a carefully crafted reworking of his previous Ph. D. thesis (Metatheater: heroines and ephebes in Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’, Univ. of Washington 1999: see also ‘Literary genres’). Charles Segal (1) compares Seneca’s description of Hippolytus’ death with those of Euripides in the homonym play, and of Ovid (met. 15.497–529). But the comparison rather emphasises the differences of Seneca’s ‘baroque’ style with the classicicm of the previous versions. John Gahan (3) makes  a brief analysis of Seneca’s dependence (imitatio) on the description of Hippolytus’ death (Phaedr. 1000–115) from the Ovidian model in Book 15. Gahan also examines Seneca’s effort to outdo Ovid (aemulatio) “through a distinct succinctness in reference to the latter’s verbosity or a deliberate elaborateness in contrast with Ovid’s precision” (124). Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (22) focuses on this same episode, and on the macrostructural differences in the lýsis or katastrophé of the Euripidean and Senecan versions. Specifically, she centres her attention on elements which appear in the Ovidian text (which seem to indicate Seneca’s debt to Ovid), but which can also be seen in the description of Caricles’ death in the novel by Achilles Tatius (1.7.1–14.3). This leads her to suggest  a common source in  a Greek tragedy, now lost (170–1). Pierini’s hypothesis is strengthened, she claims, by also observing certain elements, common to Seneca and Achilles Tatius, which do not appear in Ovid. Markus Janka also dedicates the third part of his article (24, 36–56) to analysing the epic and elegiac elements in Seneca’s Phaedra, in light of both Euripides’ Hippo­

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lytus and Ovid’s met. and amatory poems, emphasising the original elements of the Senecan drama. For Parroni’s (28) comparison of the character and location of Hippolytus in Euripides, Ovid and Seneca, see ‘Ancient Greek authors – Tragedy’. Fabio Stok (7) focuses on the debt of Seneca’s Troades to met. 13; however, he attempts to go beyond the importing of emblematic writing style or textual echoes, and addresses an imitatio “che potrebbe essere definita macrotestuale anziché microtestuale, e che riguarda la struttura narrativa e la dinamica scenica della rappresentazione senecana”. The hypothesis of his study is that “la narrazione ovidiana […] sia stata costantemente tenuta presente da Seneca, quale modello per singole soluzioni sceniche delle Troades, o anche quale spunto per proprie originali innovazioni rispetto al modello euripideo” (“Ovidio funziona quale una sorta di filtro fra Euripide e Seneca”) (226). For Fabre-Serris’ study (18) on the Ovidian background of Seneca’s Troades and Agamemnon, see ‘Petronius’. Gottfried Mader (12) proposes “to read Tr 1048 [sc. terra decrescet pelagusque crescet] as a pointed rejoinder to Met 1 345 [sc. surgit humus, crescunt loca decrescentibus undis] and its contextual implications: reversing the thrust of the original, Seneca’s adaptation suggests not restoration of order but the imminent and irrevocable dissolution of order” (my additions). The study by Sergio Cecchin only addresses Seneca’s work tangentially (13, 87–9). His interest focuses on the importance of magic as regards his main models (Euripides and Apollonius). The magic ceases to be instrumental, and “si espande  e si sviluppa in modo tale da segnare definitivamente il personaggio di Medea  e da costituire un ineliminabile precedente per le successive versioni di Seneca e di Valerio Flacco” (89). Also dealing with Seneca’s characterisation of Medea is Lisl Walsh’s article (41): “Rather than focusing on Seneca’s departures from the tragic legacy of Euripides (however important they are for an informed reading of the play), I would like to focus on Seneca’s Medea as a potentially Ovidian character. Specifically, I would like to posit that the Senecan Medea reads more like a dramatisation of Medea’s experience within the ellipsed Corinthian episode of Ovid’s Metamorphoses (7.394–97). Seneca’s Medea (more so than Euripides’ Medea) identifies with a specifically transformative project, and, one might initially suspect, supplies  a neat explication of the transformation missing from Medea’s narrative in the Metamorphoses. What we find, however, is that, in dramatising her process of metamorphosis, Seneca irreparably alters our relationship with the transformed Medea” (71). The dense article by Maurizio Ciappi collects multiple reminiscences (14, 4­ 59–61) – some not pointed out in earlier studies – of the Ovidian episode of Tereus-Procne-​ Philomela in Seneca’s Thyestes. For Tarrant’s (21) connection between the Ovidian Tereus episode (met. 6.424–674), and Seneca’s Thyestes through Ovid’s ‘expanded notion of chaos’, see ‘Lucan’. Ingo Gildenhard and Andrew Zissos (30) also devote their attention to comparing both passages: they focus on shared negative elements, such as cruelty, bloodshed, crime and revenge, although Alessandro Schiesaro (23, esp. 70–138) had already emphasized this aspect.

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Renata Roncali (16, 52–4) makes a thorough comparative analysis of the DaedalusIcarus myth in met. 8.183–235 and ars 2.21–96. Furthermore, she examines its remaking by Seneca (Oed. 890–910), also in political code (like the myth – analogous in political terms  – of Phaethon), as an example of the risks of failing to take the medium iter. Anna Basile (35) analyses the presence of Ovid’s Actaeon episode in met. 3 (cf. epist. 20.103–4 and trist. 2.104), as rooted in the Calimachean version of the myth, and in Seneca’s Phoenissae (13–15) and Oedipus (751–63). She tries to explain the oddity of Actaeon appearing in Phoen. through the fact that both Oedipus and Actaeon have links to Mount Cithaeron, their involuntary ‘guilt’, and their vain efforts to escape. Luciano Landolfi’s work (38) examines the relevant presence of Mount Cithaeron in the prologue of Phoenissae, focusing on its description as a dark ‘luogo di sangue’, and points out as models Euripides’ Bacchae, Catullus (63.3 and 32), and the location of Ino’s disgrace (met. 4.512–42). Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini focuses on the prologue of Seneca’s Medea, where, along with Euripidean models, she proposes (37, 38–9) interpreting the invocation to the Sun in ll. 27–36 as reminiscent of the Ovidian Phaethon (met. 2.298–9). Oriana Mignacca (39) studies how Seneca uses allegorical personification in passages with infernal settings. In terms of our purposes, she analyses (289–97) the debt of Herc. f. 95–9 and Thy. 1–121 to Juno’s underworld excursion, determined to punish Ino and Athamas (met. 4.447–511). A comparison, in poetic code, of the Orpheus character in Virgil, Ovid and Seneca’s Hercules furens, can be found in Dangel (19). Renata Roncali (27) presents an example of the critical sharpness of Seneca the reader: in his Apocolocyntosis (4.3), the poet shows his recognition – before anyone else  – of the (ultima)  vox as an essential element of change  – as the sphragis of  a metamorphosis – in Ovid’s work. To illustrate her point, the scholar offers a selection of Ovidian passages where this can be confirmed, as well as some parallels in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses. Finally, Antonio La Penna’s brief note (34) suggests reading l. 913 of Octavia (regnat mundo tristis Erinys) as a reworking of met. 1.241 (… qua terra patet, fera regnat Erinys; cf. 11.15), also combined with epist. 6.45 (tristis Erinys). Now we will look at studies referring to Seneca’s prose works (for a basic review of these passages, see Bañales 17). In a note not without imprecision (5), Francis Dunn makes a correct connection between the Senecan expression Nos quoque felices animae et aeterna sortitae (Marc. 26.7) and met. 15.456–8, along with Verg. Aen. 6.669. Paolo Esposito (6) proposes  a rereading of Ovid’s description of the Iron Age (met. 1.144–8), from the quotation and rectification made by Seneca in De ira 2.9 (cf. ben. 5.16.3). The fact that Seneca recurs to this passage in Ovid, specifically to allude to unpardonable nefas of the civil war, allows Esposito to assert that Ovid’s intention was to refer to the same political misfortune. Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (1, and see also 9, 177–210) studies the technique of quote-imitation used by Seneca in the Naturales Quaestiones, as regards the Ovidian episode of the flood (after Virgil, Ovid – and especially met. – is the most cited and

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imitated author in this work of Seneca). Francesca R. Berno (36) analyses the theory of elemental interchangeability in Sen. nat. 3.9–10 and the cataclysmic world dissolution pictured in 3.27–30. She relates them to Seneca’s censuring of the Ovidian flood description in Book 1 and, at the same time, his positive, constructive evocation of Ovid’s Pythagoras (Book 15) for expositing the physical theory. Arturo De Vivo (8) affirms that the expression caecis suspensa latebris used by Seneca (nat. 5.14.1), and edited as a literal quote of Ovid (met. 1.388 caecis obscura latebris), is not as such, with a memory error on Seneca’s part, but an allusion. De Vivo links obscura-suspensa with Aetna 96–8, a text whose relative dating with regards to Seneca is still uncertain, but which De Vivo considers to be later than the Naturales Quaestiones. He believes that the change is intended to adapt Ovid’s expression to the new context in which Seneca uses it. An analysis of another quote with variation is carried out by Antonella Borgo (10), specifically ben. 4.14.1, where Seneca changes to quae, quia non licuit, non dedit, illa dedit, what in Ovid appears as (am. 3.4.4) quae, quia non liceat, non facit, illa facit. In this article, the scholar reviews – through different prose passages of Seneca, almost always linked to met. – the “grave contraddizione” of the Cordoban (138): “il compiacimento dell’uomo di cultura per la fantasia ed il gusto del poeta di Sulmona, la disapprovazione del filosofo per […] la sfrenatezza fantastica ed espressiva, che finiva con l’indurre il lettore all’errore morale”. In the wake of his previous work, but also that of Antonella Borgo, Arturo De Vivo (15) analyses the passages of Naturales Quaestiones in which Seneca references met. (18 of the 19 total mentions of Ovid) – above all, passages from two episodes: the creation of the world and Pythagoras’s speech. De Vivo also observes here the ambivalence of the philosopher’s posture regarding Ovid, whose poetic abilities he admires sincerely, but whom he continually faults in rhetorical-aesthetic terms, as well as ethical. The comparative chapter by Chiara Torre (31) focuses on the presence of the “epos di Pitagora” in the third book of the Naturales Quaestiones, although this scholar does not quote the works recently mentioned. In a later study (32), Arturo De Vivo starts by pointing out references from Ovid’s Phaethon episode in the prose work of Seneca (for a previous treatment, see Rosa Rita Marchese 26, 69–93). In some cases, these references are merely instrumental, used to illustrate the argument that is being made at that moment (e.g. criticising luxury). Then the work focuses on the long mention which Seneca makes from this episode in De providentia 5.10–11, here “interessato alla figura di Fetonte nelle sue potenzialità allegoriche e simboliche” (127): that is, as a symbol of the risks posed by the ‘lofty ideals of virtus’ (for a connection from this character to Emperor Gaius, see “Caligola come Fetonte”, in Degl’Innocenti Pierini 9, 251–70). As  a second example of his defence of the didactic value of “vergleichendes Inter­pretieren”, Rainer Nickel (11, 40–2) offers  a comparison between Ovid’s Icarus-Daedalus episode (met. 8.183–259) and Seneca’s (epist. 90.14–19). The latter uses the Daedalus character, prototype of the homo faber, for the natura-artes contrast. The same epist. 90 of Seneca is Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini’s object of study (25); however she compares the reference to the sparsa miracula (90.43) with the Ovidian

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model of met. 2.193. According to the scholar, it is more a case of ‘antithetical’ homage, to the extent that the Ovidian Phaethon is defined as ignarus or trepidus. Seneca, however, hints at the primeval man, who contemplates the sky with a tranquil spirit, free from the errors, and horrors, of contemporary man. Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (20) also defends the variant et licet armis for ibimus illac in met. 8.186, based on a political interpretation which equates Daedalus-Ovid with Minos-Augustus. Moreover, she also compares Sen. prov. 2.10, where Cato refers to legionibus, classibus and Caesarianus miles: in her opinion, this points to Seneca reading et licet armis in the Ovidian passage. Some references on the importance of Ovid in the ‘dramatic style’ of Seneca’s prose writings are to be found in Parroni (40). Seneca Rhetor 1.  D. López-Cañete, “El ingenio de Ovidio”, Myrtia 27, 2012, 111–46. 2.  I. Peirano, “Non subripiendi causa sed palam mutuandi: Intertextuality and Literary Deviancy between Law, Rhetoric, and Literature in Roman Imperial Culture”, AJPh 134, 2013, 83–100. For Seneca’s criticism on Ovid, see ‘Reception and Pervivence in Antiquity – Latin Literature – General’, ‘Quintilian’ and ‘Seneca Philosopher’. Daniel López-Cañete (1) makes a long lexical-semantic analysis of Seneca’s portrait of Ovid in contr. 2.2.8. Irene Peirano (2) starts off with the well-known story told by Seneca in suas. 3.3 about Ovid using the Virgilian expression plena deo, in order to focus on the real object of her article: studying the use of legal terminology in literary criticism. She examines the possible conclusions that could be drawn from this terminology, namely the connection between literary and legal judgement regarding the process of imitation (that is, as opposed to literary theft): “how legal imagery actively structures and informs the representation of imitative practices as alternatively breaches of contract, theft, acts of open acknowledgment, and recognition” (85). Silius 1. E. Burck, “Die Endphase der Schlacht am Metaurus bei Silius Italicus (Punica 15,759–16,22)”, WS 16, 1982, 260–73. 2.  M. Billerbeck, “Die Unterweltsbeschreibung in den Punica des Silius Italicus”, Hermes 111, 1983, 326–38. 3.  D. C. Feeney, The Gods in Epic. Poets and Critics of the Classical Tradition, Oxford 1991. Reviews: uid. supra ‘Lucan’.

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4.  P. Asso, “Passione eziologica nei Punica di Silio Italico: Trasimeno, Sagunto, Ercole e i Fabii”, Vichiana 1, 1999, 75–87. 5.  A. Deremetz, “La Sibylle dans la tradition épique à Rome: Virgile, Ovide et Silius Italicus”, in M. Bouquet, F. Morzadec (eds.), La Sibylle: parole et représentation, Rennes 2004, 75–83. 6.  M. Wilson, “Ovidian Silius”, Arethusa 37, 2004, 225–49. 7.  A. Deremetz, “L’histoire du genre épique dans les catabases de Virgile, d’Ovide et de Silius Italicus”, in J. P. Schwindt (ed.), La représentation du temps dans la poésie augustéenne = Zur Poetik der Zeit in augusteischer Dichtung, Heidelberg 2005, 111–21 (Bibliothek der klassischen Altertumswissenschaften. Neue Folge 2, Reihe 116). 8.  M. A. Vinchesi, “L’episodio del serpente libico nel 4 libro dei Punica di Silio Italico e il gusto del sensazionale nell’epica flavia”, in L. Castagna, C. Riboldi (eds.), Amicitiae templa serena. Studi in onore di Giuseppe Aricò, Milano 2008, II, 1585–606. 9.  M. Korn, “Die Falernus-Episode in den Punica des Silius Italicus (7.162–211)”, in A.  Heil, M.  Korn, J.  Sauer (eds.), Noctes Sinenses. Festschrift für Fritz-Heiner Mutschler zum 65. Geburtstag, Heidelberg 2011, 74–8 (Kalliope 11). For  a general survey of Silius’ models (and among them, met.), see Denis Feeney (3, 250–312). Erich Burck (1) emphasises that, in his description of the battle of Metaurus (15.759–16.22), Silius reuses and adapts elements from Virgil (Aen. 1 and 12), and from Ovid’s Callisto (Book 2), as well as from Livy (Books 26–27), for the characterisation of Hasdrubal. Margarethe Billerbeck (2) studies the description of the underworld in Silius (13.523–612), based on the obvious Virgilian model, but with occasional additions from poets such as Seneca, Statius or, for our purposes, Ovid’s descriptions of the underworld and hell (met. 4.439–40, 10.1–85, 12.59). According to Billerbeck, these additions (especially Seneca’s Herc. f.) help to increase the degree of horror in the description. Paolo Asso (4) studies various aitia in Silius and reaches this conclusion (86): “Nonostante l’identità strutturale dei Punica con l’Eneide, come narratore di particolari curiosi Silio è piú vicino all’Ovidio delle Metamorfosi, e soprattutto dei Fasti, che non all’Eneide di Virgilio”.  Alain Deremetz (5) makes  a comparative study of the Sibyl character and its distinctive characteristics in Virgil, Ovid (met. 14.101–53), and Silius, but finds in its (meta-)poetic nature an element common to all (82): “Notre Sibylle est donc un personnage qui joue un double rôle, celui de prophétesse des destins du héros au niveau de l’action racontée et celui d’un modèle poétique qui illustre le rapport de l’auteur à son œuvre”. Some – though few – more notes about the topic, can be found in another almost contemporaneous work (7). Marcus Wilson (6) addresses “Silius’ somewhat atypical method of allusion. Compared with other writers of Latin epic, he tends to eschew signposting his

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intertexts by the technique of “quotation”, that is, by repeating complete phrases or other word collocations from earlier poems. He prefers to signal the intertextual connection by alternative means, in particular, by coincidence of situation and detail rather than wording and, occasionally, by more explicit hints” (226). He divides these Ovidian details in Silius into four types: “when Silius rewrites a scene or story that was itself specifically portrayed or narrated by Ovid” (227–8); “where Silius invents a sustained episode out of one or more passages that he found in Ovid’s words, but where the specific subject of the story itself has no Ovidian parallel” (228–9); “where the material is mythological or aetiological or amatory or involves transformation in a way reminiscent of the Metamorphoses, but has no actual Ovidian antecedent” (229); “a scene or episode that does not appear to have been principally inspired by Ovid, will nevertheless echo a passage or passages from Ovid with which it has some situational affinity” (229–30). This literary technique is illustrated by means of a comparative study of different episodes in Silius and Ovid (for our purpose, the Tyrrhenian sailors in Book 3, Pyramus and Thisbe in 4, Cephalus and Procris in 7, Daedalus and Icarus and Philemon and Baucis in 8, Orpheus’ death and Alcyone’s dream in 11, the poem’s end …). Maria Assunta Vinchesi (8) studies Silius’ episode of Atilius Regulus (4.118–550), and in particular that of the huge Libyan snake (140–293), and emphasises above all the debt to Statius’ Thebaid (Book 5), but through the mediation of Ovid’s reference to the snake of Mars killed by Cadmus (met. 3.28–98). In his brief note, Matthias Korn (9, 75–6) focuses attention on the color Ovidianus of the Falernus episode in Silius, on his debt primarily to the episode of Philemon and Baucis, and secondarily to those of the Tyrrhenian sailors and Minyas’ daughters. Statius 1.  D. C. Feeney, The Gods in Epic. Poets and Critics of the Classical Tradition, Oxford 1991. Reviews: uid. supra ‘Lucan’. 2.  R. Iglesias Montiel, “Estacio y sus modelos épicos”, in Actas del III Coloquio de Estudiantes de Filología Clásica. Poesía Épica Griega y Latina, 10, 11 y 12 de julio, Madrid 1991, 53–86. 3.  F. Delarue, “Le palais du Sommeil: d’Ovide à Stace”, Lalies 10, 1992, 405–10. 4.  G. Rosati, “Momenti  e forme della fortuna antica di Ovidio: l’Achilleide di Stazio”, in M. Picone, B. Zimmermann (eds.), Ovidius redivivus. Von Ovid zu Dante, Stuttgart 1994, 43–62. 5.  S. Hinds, Allusion and Intertext. Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Cambridge 1998. Reviews: M.  Gale, G&R 46, 1998, 239–40; R.  Lyne, TLS 4975, 1998, 30; C. Nappa, BMCR 98.9.8; G. Conte, JRS 89, 1999, 217–20; M. Lowrie, CW 92, 1999, 384–5; P. A. Miller, CPh 94, 1999, 351–5; J. J. O’Hara, CR 49, 1999, 97–8; P. Tordeur,

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AC 68, 1999, 395; G. Tronchet, REA 101, 1999, 226–8; J. E. G. Zetzel, Phoenix 53, 1999, 171–3; S. Raimondi, Faventia 22, 2000, 165–7; A.  Deremetz, Latomus 60, 2001, 783–4; B.  Mota, Euphrosyne 30, 2002, 449–50; M.  Negri, Athenaeum 90, 2002, 301–3. 6.  A. M. Keith, “Ovidian personae in Statius’s Thebaid”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 381–402. 7.  H. Lovatt, “Statius’ Ekphrastic Games: Thebaid 6.531–47”, Ramus 31, 2002, 73–90. 8.  F. Morzadec, “Métamorphoses du paysage d’Ovide à Stace. Le “paysage ovidien” dans la Silve II, 3”, in E. Bury (ed.), Lectures d’Ovide. Publiées à la mémoire de JeanPierre Néraudau, Paris 2003, 89–105. 9.  C. Newlands, “Statius and Ovid: Transforming the Landscape”, TAPhA 134, 2004, 133–55. 10.  A. M. Keith, “Ovid’s Theban Narrative in Statius’ Thebaid”, Hermathena 177/78, 2004/05, 181–208. 11.  P. Hardie, “Statius’ Ovidian poetics and the tree of Atedius Melior (Silvae 2.3)”, in R. R. Nauta, H.-J. van Dam, J. J. L. Smolenaars (eds.), Flavian poetry, Leiden 2006, 207–21. 12.  A. M. Keith, “Imperial building projects and architectural ecphrases in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Statius’ Thebaid”, Mouseion 7, 2007, 1–26. 13.  R. Parkes, “Hercules and the Centaurs: Reading Statius with Vergil and Ovid”, CPh 104, 2009, 476–94. 14.  R. Parkes, “Who’s the Father? Biological and Literary Inheritance in Statius’ Thebaid”, Phoenix 63, 2009, 24–37. 15.  R. Parkes, “Dealing with Ghosts: Literary Assertion in Statius’ Thebaid”, Ramus 39, 2010, 14–23. 16.  C. Criado, “Teologías y teodiceas épicas. Estacio y la perspectiva ovidiana”, Emerita 79, 2011, 251–75. 17.  H. Baumann, “Der ewige Gärtner. Statius’ Silve 2,3 als Geburtstagsgeschenk zwischen Intertextualität und Gartenbaukunst”, A&A 59, 2013, 89–111. 18.  C. Chinn, “Statius’ Ovidian Achilles”, Phoenix 67, 2013, 320–42. 19.  D. Kozák, “Si forte reponis Achillem: Achilles in the Ars poetica, the Metamorphoses, and the Achilleid”, MD 72, 2014, 207–21. 20.  G. Rosati, “Ovid in Flavian Occasional Poetry (Martial and Statius)”, in J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands (eds.), A Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester (New Sussex) 2014, 55–69. For  a general survey of Statius’ models (and among them, met.), see Denis Feeney (1, 337–91) and Rosa Iglesias (2). See also Criado (16, 256 n. 8) and Chinn (18, 320 n. 1) for recent bibliography on Statius, partially dealing with this connection.

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Rosa Iglesias (2, 59–60, and 63–70) addresses the debt of Statius’ Thebaid to met. in terms of structure and narrative technique, and the dependence of the Tisiphone and Allecto characters, paying special attention to the comparison between Statius’ description of the palace of Sleep (Theb. 10.84–145) and Ovid (met. 11.592–649). The study by Fernand Delarue (3) also focuses on the latter episode: above all, he examines the aspects of aemulatio by Statius. Alison Keith (6) shows to what degree Statius’ techniques of characterisation in the Thebaid are indebted to Ovid, particularly in the Theban saga (Books 3 and 4), but also in the Calydonian boar hunt (8). From this evidence, she concludes that Statius illustrates thus the tragic repetition of the past in the episode of Seven Against Thebes. In a later article (10), this scholar recalls that Statius makes it clear, at the very outset of the Thebaid (1.4–17), that he is going to leave aside those episodes of the Theban saga that form the core of the Ovidian narrative (met. 2.836–4.603). Throughout her article, Keith emphasises different literary debts which link both epic poems, e.g. Oedipus’ self-blinding as inspired in the Ovidian Tiresias (185): “The implication that the blind Ovidian seer informs Statius’ blind Oedipus confirms the Flavian epic’s literary descent from Ovid’s Theban history and offers ironic comment on the conspicuous absence of Oedipus (and indeed the House of Labdacus) from Ovid’s ‘Thebaid’”. In another article (12, 1), the same scholar addresses “Statius’ descriptions of built forms, interior decoration, and spatial usage in the Thebaid in relation both to the architectural settings of the Metamorphoses (and their reception of Augustus’ building projects) and to the contemporary architectural programs of the Flavian emperors”. Carole Newlands (9) suggests that in the Thebaid Statius presents Ovid’s landscape (especially that of the Theban saga in Book 3), properly a locus amoenus, as a paradise lost: that is to say, “Statius’ poem of civil war will depict the dissolution of the Ovidian paradise” (134). Helen Lovatt (7, 78–80) looks at the presence of Ovid’s fight between Centaurs and Lapiths in the ecphrasis of the prize bowl won by Amphiaraus (Theb. 6.535–8). Ruth Parkes (13) considers the connection between Statius’ Thebaid, Virgil’s Aeneid and Ovid’s met. as regards the character of Hercules (478–88) and the Centauromachy (488–92) (as for the latter, “Statius draws upon the Aeneid and the Metamorphoses in his allusions to the fight and, in the process, manipulates our reading of these texts”, 478). This same scholar devotes another article (14) to examining “the complexities of Parthenopaeus’ parentage as explored by Statius’ Thebaid” (24). She proposes several “characters who are, or might be held to be, his parents” (namely the Ovidian Hippomenes, Meleager, and the two Atalantas, as well as the ‘Gallan’ or elegiac Milanion), and hence suggests “that the Thebaid’s use of multiple ancestry issues can serve as a figure for Statius’ own relationship with his poetic predecessors” (“As there is no clear biological sire, so there is no clear poetic father-figure”, 35). Another article by Parkes examines the topic of literary self-consciousness (15). Regarding the portrayal of ghosts in Stat. Theb. 4.553–645, this study examines whether the episode “can be read as a meditation on the poem’s place in the literary

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tradition. It views the scene as a commentary on the epic’s artistic practices, wherein Statius both acknowledges his predecessors, especially Ovid and Seneca, and asserts his own literary contribution through the appearance of the ambushers depicted earlier in the poem” (14). Cecilia Criado (16) focuses on the character of Jupiter in the Thebaid, and his relation to fatum. Specifically, Criado starts from the traditional question of “si la series malorum (Ou., Met. IV 564 y Stat., Theb. I 17) que atenaza la historia mítica de la estirpe de Cadmo se debe a la causalidad divina o a la humana” (252). After a detailed examination of philosophical and literary studies of the Thebaid, Criado draws attention (270) to the similarities between the Statian Jupiter, the Ovidian rector Olympi / deum and the Senecan civitatis rector, against the traditional interpretation, which related him to Stoic Providence. In  a chapter dedicated to the Ovidian presence in Statius’ Achilleid, Gianpiero Rosati (4, 53–9) examines the crucial importance of met. as a model of ambiguity (sexual, but also of the characters’ own identities) as shown especially in the episode of Achilles at Scyros. Additionally, he devotes the final pages (59–62) to considering the profound debt of Statius to Ovid in assigning “esistenza letteraria” to his characters (62): “È questo, mi sembra, il punto più avanzato del rapporto fra i due poeti, il segno di quanto profondamente Stazio abbia inteso e appreso la lezione di Ovidio. E il fatto che, nell’applicare il suo metodo, in quella pratica tutta ovidiana, autoriflessiva, di rinviare ad altri testi, sia anzitutto lui, Ovidio […], l’oggetto del richiamo, è forse l’omaggio più esplicito che Stazio rende al suo modello”. Stephen Hinds (5, 135–44) also devotes attention to Ovid’s presence in Statius’ Achilleid. Christopher Chinn (18) compares Ovid’s Centauromachy, relating it not to the Thebaid, but to the Achilleid. Chinn asserts that Statius makes his Achilles character similar to Ovid’s Cyllarus and also to Hylonome (met. 12.393–428), which in turn “implies various kinds of hybridity in the portrayal of Achilles in the Achilleid” (321). He considers that Statius also draws attention to the Ovidian models of Catullus 64 (“Links to Ovid via Catullus”, 334–7) and Lucretius 5.882–9 (“Links to Ovid via Lucretius”, 337–40). The Achilles character in met. and in Statius’ Achilleid is also the focus of Dániel Kozák’s article (19). He compares both texts starting from the well-known judgement of Hor. ars 120–2. The evolutions of both characters do not agree with Horace’s features, and this makes Kozák interpret a sort of intertextual dialogue with Horace. Françoise Morzadec (8) studies the influence of landscape in different passages of met. as also applied to silv. 2.3, dedicated to Atedius Melior, who becomes “une sorte de modèle réduit  a la maniere d’Ovide” (105). This same silva is also the object of study in the chapter by Philip Hardie (11), who sees therein a combination of Ovidian passages from met. (listed at 209 n. 7), and Horatian (see 218–21) models. Helge Baumann (17) interprets this same composition as a type of “Erinnerungslandschaft” (“Der Baum fungiert in der Silve 2,3 also als metapoetisches Symbol für die Wahrung von memoria”, 105) starting from the Ovidian background and that of Verg. Aen. 8. Gianpiero Rosati (20) investigates the presence of Ovid’s poems – met. included – in Flavian occasional poetry, namely the epigrams of Martial and the Silvae of Statius.

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Tacitus 1.  W. Heilmann, “Die Eigenart der Taciteischen Vorstellung von der Urzeit in ann. 3.26“, Gymnasium 107, 2000, 409–24. 2.  J. Luque Moreno, “Mentis inops”, Myrtia 25, 2010, 53–75. Willibald Heilmann (1) studies the excursus on the ‘Urzeit’ that Tacitus (ann. 3.26) writes in continuation of, and in connection with, his criticism of the lex Papia Poppaea about marriage (9 ce). Heilmann devotes attention to Tacitus’ surprising ‘Geschichtskonzeption’ (410): “Erstaunlich ist, dass Tacitus bis auf die Urzeit zurückgeht und die spätere Zeit als Abkehr von der Urzeit dagegenstellt”. In his study, Heilmann compares similar representations of the Golden Age that “Tacitus sicher oder mit grosser Wahrscheinlichkeit kannte”, such as Ov. met. 1.89–93 and 128–31 (see esp. 413–9), and Sen. epist. 90.4–6 and 36–40. He marks out their points of contact, and also their differences (417–8): “Als Tacitus seine Vorstellung von der Urzeit ann. 3,26 niederschrieb, hatte er offenbar philosophische Traditionen im Kopf, wie sie etwa in Senecas 90. Brief, 36–40 fassbar sind. Zugleich wirkten poetische, letztlich auf Hesiod zurückgehende Gestaltungen wie in Ovids Metamorphosen auf seine Darstellung ein. Dabei formulierte er eine eigenständige Auffassung”. Against these conceptions, Heilmann analyses (419–24) that of Sallust, in whose work those concepts important to Tacitus can be seen recurrently: modestia, pudor, aequalitas and dominatio. However, according to Heilmann, clear differences exist between the two historians: “Sallust verhält sich in all diesen Punkten anders. Nirgendwo wird bei ihm, soweit wir sehen, die Vorstellung einer reinen Urzeit näher ausgeführt. Allgemein-Menschliches wird durchweg kurz oder beläufig einbezogen oder als Ausgangspunkt einer historischen Darlegung knapp umrissen, es wird aber nicht als Grundlage der Erörterung in Einzelheiten entfaltet” (420); “Man kann erkennen, wie Tacitus bei allen Anregungen, die er durch Sallust erhält, eigene Wege geht, die letztlich darin begründet sind, dass seiner Geschichtsschreibung andere politische Erfahrungen zugrunde liegen” (410). Jesús Luque (2) studies the presence of the expression mentis inops, probably coined by Ovid, in later authors, and especially in Tacitus’ work (ann. 14.10). Valerius Flaccus 1.  D. C. Feeney, The Gods in Epic. Poets and Critics of the Classical Tradition, Oxford 1991. Reviews: uid. supra ‘Lucan’. 2.  S. A. Cecchin, “Medea in Ovidio fra elegia ed epos”, in R. Uglione (ed.), Atti delle giornate di studio su Medea (Torino 23–24 ottobre 1995), Torino 1997, 69–89. 3.  T. L. Wright, Valerius Flaccus and the poetics of imitation, Ph. D. thesis, Univ. of Virginia 1998.

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4.  O. Fuà, “Ipotesti di una Centauromachia (Val. Fl. 1, 140–148)”, Sandalion 21/22, 1998/99, 47–55. 5.  F. Bessone, “Valerius Flaccus und die Medeen des Ovid”, in U. Eigler, E. Lefèvre (eds.), Ratis omnia vincet. Neue Untersuchungen zu den Argonautica des Valerius Flaccus, München 1998, 141–71 (Zetemata 98). 6.  U. Auhagen, “Medea zwischen Ratio und Ratlosigkeit. Monologe bei Valerius Flaccus und Ovid (met. 7,11–71)”, in F.  Spaltenstein (ed.), Untersuchungen zu den Argonautica des Valerius Flaccus. Ratis omnia vincet III, München 2004, 91–103 (Zetemata 120). 7.  T. Gärtner, “Untersuchungen zum Io-Mythos in der lateinischen Dichtung”, Prometheus 34, 2008, 257–74. 8.  P. J. Davis, “Remembering Ovid: The Io Episode in Valerius Flaccus’ Argonautica”, Antichthon 43, 2009, 1–11. 9.  F. Delarue, “Le Jupiter de Valérius Flaccus: virgilien ou ovidien?”, REL 91, 2013, 157–69. 10.  A. Río Torres-Murciano, “Spes lusa (Val. Fl. 3.555): Hilas como anti-Julo”, CFC(L) 33, 2013, 35–55. As in the cases of Silius and Statius, the studies into the influence of Ovid on Valerius Flaccus become a clarification – a sort of restriction – of the presence, evident and pervasive, of Virgil and  – in this case  – Apollonius Rhodius and Homer (on the subject, see Wright 3). For  a general survey of Valerius’ models (and among them, met.), see Denis Feeney (1, 337–91). For the work by Cecchin (2) on the influence of Ovid’s Medea on Valerius Flaccus’ character, see ‘Seneca Philosopher’. On the same topic, see also Bessone (5) and Auhagen (6). Oscar Fuà (4) points out Ovid’s Centauromachy as hypotext for Valerius Flaccus’ brief ecphrasis (1.140–8). In terms of the imitation method, “intento del nostro poeta è quello di fare avvertire ai lettori l’ipotesto non come qualcosa che venga semplicemente imitato e trascritto, bensì come qualcosa che fornisca alla sua scrittura spunti per raggiungere effetti di originalità” (51), an originality which is obviously based largely on the processes of selection and condensation. Thomas Gärtner starts (7, 257–67) by studying the two Ovidian treatments (epist. 14.85–108 and met. 1.588–746) of the myth of Io, and then (267–74) addresses the similarities and differences between the episode of met. and Orpheus’ song in Book 4 of Valerius Flaccus. Another article focused on the episode of Io is Peter Davis’ (8): he draws attention to the mission of ‘mise-en-abîme’ of this “apparently irrelevant digression”, which actually functions as a prefiguration to the fundamental Medea story in Books 5–8. Davis starts from the premise “that Valerius does allude to Metamorphoses 1 is clear” (1; “The Ovidian connection is plain”, 2), which he illustrates through his technical, structural and even stylistic (syntactical and lexical) similarities. However, he also points out the differences in treatment

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between them, all against the background of the (ps-)Aeschylean Prometheus Bound. The focus of the study by Fernand Delarue (9) is to break down the thesis that, after Lucan’s experiment, Valerius Flaccus brought about the return of Virgilian gods to epic. After his detailed analysis of Valerius’ Jupiter figure, Delarue asserts that he is much closer to Ovid’s fickle Jupiter, than to the just ruler of the universe portrayed by Virgil. Antonio Río Torres-Murciano (10) analyses the form followed by Valerius Flaccus to address the history of Hylas, in agreement with the model of Apollonius. According to him (39–42), Valerius introduces into the traditional version of the episode a Virgilian image of Juno, hostile to Hercules, and indirectly suggests to the reader the identification of Hylas as a copy of Iulus in the Aeneid. However, this expectation is frustrated by the hunting disaster and death of the boy, a death which Valerius depicts with touches of the Ovidian Narcissus (42–4). Valerius Maximus 1.  C. Santini, “La storia di Cipus in Valerio Massimo e Ovidio”, in S. Boldrini (ed.), Filologia e forme letterarie. Studi offerti a Francesco della Corte, Urbino 1987, III, 291–8. 2.  J.-Y. Guillaumin, “Les cornes de Cipus”, in F.  Galtier, Y.  Perrin (eds.), Ars pictoris, ars scriptoris: peinture, littérature, histoire. Mélanges offerts à Jean-Michel Croisille, Clermont-Ferrand 2008, 163–71. Carlo Santini (1) compares the story of Genucius Cipus in Valerius Maximus (5.6.3) and Ovid (met. 15.565–621). Both narrations are built on the central concept of imperium domi – imperium militiae, from whence come oppositions such as rex / exul, or hostis / civis; the religious implications of the tale are also analysed. Focused on the same episode, although without quoting the previous work, Jean-Yves Guillaumin’s chapter (2) draws attention to the fact that, unlike Valerius Maximus, Ovid does not focus on the Cipus’ characteristics of political pietas, but on his regal aspirations. d. Late Antiquity  Here too I will start my review with a general work about Ovid’s reception in Late Antiquity, and then I will follow an alphabetical order for the different authors or literary works. General –  I. Fielding, “A Poet between Two Worlds. Ovid in Late Antiquity”, in J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands (eds.), A Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester (New Sussex) 2014, 100–13.

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Though he scarcely deals with met. itself, Ian Fielding reexamines Fränkel’s wellknown definition of Ovid as ‘a poet between two worlds’. He uses this phrase to investigate the poet’s influence in the 4th to 6th centuries, and how he was received by Christian authors. An observation of general interest for our purpose, especially being recent, is from “Further Reading” (110): “There is currently no one volume dedicated to examining Ovid’s presence in late antique Latin literature”. The same scholar has recently published a new book on Ovid’s reception in the poems of Ausonius, Paulinus of Nola, Rutilius Namatianus, Dracontius, Boethius, Maximianus, and Venantius Fortunatus: Transformations of Ovid in Late Antiquity, Cambridge 2017. Ambrose 1.  *T. Gacia, “Analiza hymnu Agnes beata virginis św. Ambrożego” (“Analyse de l’hymne Agnes beata virginis de saint Ambroise”), VoxP 36–37, 1999, 259–70. 2.  L. Gosserez, “La création de l’homme ou le phénix (Ovide, Mét., XV, 405; Ambroise, Exc., II, 59)”, in H. Casanova-Robin (ed.), Ovide, figures de l’ hybride: illustrations littéraires et figurées de l’esthétiques ovidienne à travers les âges, Paris 2009, 307–19 (Colloques, congrès et conférences sur la Renaissance 64). Gacia (1) considers Ambrose’s Hymn to Agnes, comparing some passages in Euripides, Virgil and, for our purpose, Ovid’s description of Polyxena’s death (met. 13.477–80). Laurence Gosserez (2, esp. 316–19) takes Ambrose’s reference to Phoenix, when dealing with resurrection in De excessu fratris Satyri (2.59), as an example of how the Bishop of Milan reuses Ovidian literary material for his Christian message. Arnobius –  H. Le Bonniec, “Échos ovidiens dans l’Adversus nationes d’Arnobe”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 139–51 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). Henri Le Bonniec studies the presence of met. (without mentioning Ovid explicitly) in Arnobius’ Adversus nationes. Arnobius’ use of all the mythical apparatus provided by met. is, as expected, polemical and critical (139): “[met.] pouvait fournir des armes au fougueux polémiste qui tournait en dérision les cultes païens”. Le Bonniec considers the Ovidian influence by studying the vocabulary and phrases used by Arnobius, as well as by analysing some mythical episodes. Ausonius 1.  F. K. Polymerakis, “D. M. Ausonii Cupido cruciatus: μίμηση και πρωτοτυπία”, in D. E. Koutroumpas (ed.), Imitatio in litteris Latinis. Acta quinti Symposii studiorum Latinorum totius Graeciae (Athenis V–VII Novembris 1993), Athina 1996, 345–63 (summary in English at p. 363).

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2.  C. Di Giovine, “Ausonio e i modelli greci. Note a Epit. 1–3 Green”, ­BStudLat 28, 1998, 461–6. 3.  A. M. Keith, S. J. Rupp, “After Ovid: Classical, Medieval, and Early Modern Receptions of the Metamorphoses”, in A. M. Keith, S. J. Rupp (eds.), Metamorphosis: The Changing Face of Ovid in Medieval and Early Modern Europe, Toronto 2007, 15–32. 4.  M. Gindhart, “– Nárkissos – Narcissus – Narziss: Reflexionen und Brechungen eines Mythos”, in D.  Klein, L.  Käppel (eds.), Das diskursive Erbe Europas. Antike und Antikerezeption, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 2008, 25–62 (Kulturgeschichtliche Beiträge zum Mittelalter und der frühen Neuzeit 2). 5.  M. M. McGowan, “What distinguishes Ovid’s Pythagoras from the Pythagoras of Ausonius and Martianus Capella?”, Anabases 19, 2014, 189–204. Some considerations concerning the relationship between Ovid and Ausonius can be found in the more broadly-focused chapter by Alison Keith and Stephen Rupp (3, 26–8). Fotis Polymerakis (1) studies Ausonius’ debt to Virgil’s Aeneid, Ovid’s met. and Statius’ Thebaid in his Cupido cruciatus. Carlo Di Giovine’s brief note (2) aims to add certain Greek and Latin sources to the Greek ones already pointed out for Aus. epit. 1–3. For our purposes, Di Giovine focuses attention on met. 13.398 (and hence Hyacinthus’ episode too) as a source for the references to weeping in Ausonius’ epit. 3 (l. 2 illacrimans; l. 6 gemitu). The article by Matthew McGowan (5, 189) “examines the reception of Ovid’s representation of the figure of Pythagoras in the works of Ausonius and Martianus Capella”. He chooses both authors because of their influence on the representation of Pythagoras in late-antique and medieval literature and art. After an analysis of the character’s presence in these three authors, he concludes that, in spite of certain commonalities regarding Pythagoras’ image as an ethical sage, mathematician, and divinely-inspired polymath, “only Ovid is interested in Pythagoras’ status as a political exile”, since “[t]he political aspect of Pythagoras’ life-story is of no consequence in Ausonius and Martianus Capella or, for that matter, anywhere else in the post-Ovidian tradition” (204). For Marion Gindhart’s paper (4), see ‘Reception and Pervivence in Antiquity – Iconography’. For Ian Fielding’s recent work (2017) on the reception of Ovid in this poet, see above ‘General’. Boethius –  J.-M. Claassen, “Literary Anamnesis: Boethius Remembers Ovid”, Helios 34, 2007, 1–35. Jo-Marie Claassen states (1–2): “[I]t is my intention here to consider possible Ovidian influence in the manner in which Boethius treats the topic of amor. Specifically I try

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to answer the question as to what degree Boethius’ concept of amor in various key poems agrees with, or opposes, Ovid’s”. Though the amatory and exile poems are of obvious interest, Claassen pays due attention to some episodes from met., namely those of Orpheus and Phaethon. For Ian Fielding’s recent work on the reception of Ovid in this poet, see above ‘General’. Cento Narcissus –  M. Okáčová, “Ut imago poesis: A Pastiche of Virgil and Ovid in the Cento Narcissus”, SPFB(klas) 14, 2009, 177–89. Marie Okáčová (esp. 183–4) studies the debt of the anonymous Virgilian cento Narcissus of the Anthologia Salmasiana (Anth. Lat. 9 R) to the Ovidian episode (183): “The version of the Narcissus story followed by the anonymous author of the cento seems to be the famous epyllion by Ovid (Met. 3.339–510) rather than any peculiar Greek treatment”. Charisius –  F. Giordano, “Problemi di tradizione indiretta: le citazioni ovidiane in Carisio”, in S. Cerasuolo (ed.), Mathesis e philia. Studi in onore di Marcello Gigante, Napoli 1995, 285–91. Fausto Giordano evaluates nine quotes from Ovidian texts used by Charisius, four of which are from met. (1.13; 3.79, 522; 4.494). His conclusion is that these quotes have little ecdotic value. Claudian 1.  P. Galand, “Les «fleurs» de l’ecphrasis: autour du rapt de Proserpine (Ovide, Claudien, Politien)”, Latomus 46, 1987, 87–122. 2.  M. von Albrecht, “Proserpina’s Tapestry in Claudian’s De raptu: Tradition and Design”, ICS 14, 1989, 383–90. 3.  J.-L. Charlet, “Un exemple de la lecture d’Ovide par Claudien: l’Épithalame pour les noces d’Honorius et Marie”, in I. Gallo, L. Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 121–31 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli studi di Salerno. Sez. Atti Convegni Miscellanee 43). 4.  S. Wheeler, “The Underworld Opening of Claudian’s De Raptu Proserpinae”, TAPhA 125, 1995, 113–34. 5.  *M. Cytowska, “Piesn o bajecznym ptaku feniksie (“A song about the mythological bird, the phoenix”)”, in I. Lewandosky, K. Liman (eds.), Literis vivere. Księga Pamiątkowa Ofiarowana Profesorowi Andrzejowi Wójcikowi, Poznań 1996, 127–33.

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6.  C. Moro, “Proserpina non abita più qui: il lago Pergus e la metamorfosi di Ciane nell’interpretazione di Claudiano”, AVM 71, 2003, 129–44. 7.  G. Rosati, “La strategia del ragno, ovvero la rivincita di Aracne. Fortuna tardo-antica (Sidonio Apollinare, Claudiano) di un mito ovidiano”, in L.  Casarsa, L.  Cristante, M.  Fernandelli (eds.), Culture Europee  e tradizione latina. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi. Cividale del Friuli, Fondazione Niccolò Canussio, 16–17 novembre 2001, Trieste 2003, 119–41 (Polymnia. Studi di Filologia classica 1; also published in Dictynna 1, 2004, 63–82). 8.  S.-C. K. Tsai, “Hellish love: genre in Claudian’s De raptu Proserpinae”, Helios 34, 2007, 37–68. Most of the studies  – though they are few  – which address Ovid’s influence on Claudian are focused, as will be seen, on the poem De raptu Proserpinae. For the presence of Ovid’s exile poetry in Claudian, see B. Mulligan, “An Allusion to Ovid in Claudian’s Carmina Minora 22.56”, CPh 100, 2005, 277–80 (esp. 277 nn. 2–3). Perrine Galand (1) compares the descriptive technique used in four scenes of the locus amoenus where Proserpina picks flowers before being raped: Ovid (met. 5.385–95, fast. 4.427–45), Claudian (rapt. 2.88–141) and Politian (rust. 173–216). Her analysis shows as much the “‘extension horizontale’ (Modifications de la structure descriptive)” as the “‘verticale’ (Symbolique – Intertextualité)” of the ecphrasis technique. Michael von Albrecht (2) studies distinct aspects of the poetic technique in Proserpina’s tapestry, and relates them to those of Ovid’s Arachne. He then studies Claudian’s imitation of Virgil, Ovid’s Orpheus and Golden Age narratives (388–9), and Statius. Gianpiero Rosati (7) focuses specifically on comparing Ovid’s Arachne (met. 6.1–145), Claudian’s rapt. 3.155 and Sidonius Apollinaris’ carm. 15. According to Rosati, both late-antique poets are fully aware of the traditional metapoetic interpretation of Arachne (poet-spider)’s labour, as well as of how Ovid renders the relationship between artist and power. The latter was  a problematic aspect which Sidonius had to avoid in his poem, being an epithalamium, and therefore seek in Arachne’s character other qualities more appropriate to eulogising feminine virtues, such as patience and fastidiousness in the domestic sphere. Sidonius does, on the other hand, exploit the metapoetic potential of the character. Claudian also capitalises on the metapoetic possibilities, but at the same time exploits how this myth can be used to criticise the relation with power. The destruction of the peplos which young Proserpina was weaving before her rape, bearing a representation of the cosmic order, is Claudian’s vengeance on the Ovidian model: Arachne’s final victory. Stephen Wheeler (4) looks to offer a new interpretation of Claudian’s De raptu Proserpinae as  a conciliation attempt between the martial epic and “the Hesiodic cosmological / erotic strain represented by Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (121). Thus he considers some affinities, but especially the differences, between Claudian’s and Ovid’s narratives (esp. 116–23).

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Costantino Moro (6) focuses on Claudian’s mention of Lake Pergus (2.112), which links the late-antiquity work strongly to Ovid (met. 5.386). However, Moro points out that, to show his independence from the model, Claudian situates the rape away from the lake, on the slopes of Mount Etna. The writer designs thus a geography based on literary fiction, and in which, moreover, a light error in reading of the model may have had its influence. Other details of independence from Ovid are the bright and pure quality of the place in Claudian’s description, as opposed to its darkness in Ovid’s, and the role played by the nymph Cyane. Kevin Tsai (8) sees in the character of Proserpina a unifier of genres (“Framing the rape by epithalamial displacement of epic strife, De raptu’s artful presentation of the myth revises and unifies generic discourses through the mediation of Proserpina, who serves both as a character in a timeless story and as a symbol of Claudian’s poetic program”, 61). Throughout the article he analyses how the reconfiguration of literary genres which took place in the 4th c. is presented in this poem, and so Ovid’s met. is, unsurprisingly, a constant reference. More specifically, among the passages selected by Tsai to illustrate his hypothesis, in section 3 (47–53) he considers “how Claudian constructs his poetic program from Virgil’s Aeneid while imitating the erotic politics of Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (38). Jean-Louis Charlet (3) studies Ovid’s possible influence on the Epithalamium of Honorius and Maria: in both metrical technique and phraseological similarities, he diminishes considerably the degree of influence proposed by Annette H. Eaton in her 1943 thesis. Even so, Charlet considers that Ovid’s presence is “indubitable et quantitativement significative” (131), albeit reduced, as regards met., to five definite passages, plus another two or three possible ones. In conclusion, he states that “[l]a présence d’Ovide, et surtout des Métamorphoses, s’explique par des affinités esthétiques: Claudien est un poète alexandrin dans les deux sens du terme” (131). A comparative study of Lactantius’ De ave Phoenice, Claud. carm. min. 1 and met. 15.391–407 can be found in Cytowska (5). Dracontius 1.  J. Bouquet, “L’imitation d’Ovide chez Dracontius”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 177–87 (Caesarodunum 17 bis; English version repr. in W. S. Anderson (ed.), Ovid: The Classical Heritage, New York 1995 [repr. 2014], 11–22). 2.  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. 3.  R. Simons, Dracontius und der Mythos. Christliche Weltsicht und pagane Kultur in der ausgehenden Spätantike, München-Leipzig 2005 (Beiträge zur Altertums­ kunde 186). Review: O. Overwien, Sehepunkte 7.1, 2007, sine pag.

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4.  H. Kaufmann, “Intertextualität in Dracontius’ Medea (Romul. 10)”, MusHelv 63, 2006, 104–14. 5.  A. M. Wasyl, “Le metamorfosi di Medea in Ovidio, Metamorphoses VII,  e Draconzio, Romulea X”, Eos 94, 2007, 81–99. A general study of Dracontius and his use, and ‘updating’, of classical mythology, is that of Roswitha Simons (3),  a reelaboration of her dissertation (Hamburg 2004). Although references to met. are constant throughout the book, there is no specific comparison between the works of both authors. Particularly interesting for our purpose are chapters II (“Dracontius’ Weltanschauung in seiner religiösen Dichtung”, 23–66), III (“Paganer Mythos und pagane Götter in den Laudes Dei”, 67–154), and IV (“Medea (Rom. 10)”, 155–220). Michael Roberts (2) studies the repercussion of Ovid’s account of creation (Book 1) on the recreation of the biblical version by 4th to 6th-c. Christian writers such as Cl. Marius Victorius, the Metrum in Genesin, Dracontius, Orientius, Prosper, Paulinus of Nola, and Venantius Fortunatus. Jean Bouquet (1) demonstrates that Dracontius was familiar with all Ovid’s works. Although he used mostly met., the 5th-c. poet also referred to fast. and Pont. for his Satisfactio, as he felt an affinity for Ovid the exile while he was imprisoned. Helen Kaufmann (4) and Anna Maria Wasyl (5) compare the characterisations of Medea in Ovid (met. 7.7–424) and Dracontius (Romul. 10). Wasyl chooses both texts, even though she states that “non sembra che Draconzio richiamasse l’episodio ovidiano in modo diretto” (82), since her study is about two versions which offer a complete image of the character in her metamorphic evolution from Medea amans in Colchis to Medea furens in Greece: “per indagare come i nostri autori realizzino questa loro idea comune di raccontare la vicenda di Medea nella sua totalità, ‘dall’inizio alla fine’” (82). As a common characteristic which stands out in both texts, Wasyl points to the selective criteria which both poets use to manipulate the traditional elements of myth  – increasing, reducing and even omitting, according to their narrative necessities. Since the criteria of both do not coincide, the article is dedicated to separate studies of the treatment in Ovid (83–90), and in Dracontius (90–8), although obviously the latter is based on the Ovidian background, focusing on Dracontius’ innovations (e.g. Medea’s killing of her children when Jason is already dead). Kaufmann focuses specifically on the relative intertextual distancing of Dracontius from his Greek and Roman models, which she attributes less to the incapacity of the late-antique poet, and more to the limited capacity of reception by the Vandal public for which his composition was partly destined. For Ian Fielding’s recent work on the reception of Ovid in this poet, see above ‘General’.

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Hieronymus –  S. M. Wheeler, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Universal History”, in D. S. Levene, D.  Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002, 163–90. For Wheeler’s chapter, see ‘Sulpicius Severus’. Juvencus –  F. Bordone, “Un Fetonte cristiano? L’ascesa al cielo di Elia in Paolino di Nola (carm. 6, 77–78) tra memoria ovidiana  e nuove connotazioni simboliche”, BStudLat 36, 2006, 497–515. For references to Juvencus in Bordone’s article, see ‘Paulinus of Nola’. Lactantius 1.  *D. Z. Nikitas, “Οβιδιανές επιδράσεις στο ποίημα του Λακταντίου ‘De ave Phoenice’”, EEThess(philol) 1, 1991, 135–63. 2.  *M. Cytowska, “Piesn o bajecznym ptaku feniksie (“A song about the mythological bird, the phoenix”)”, in I. Lewandosky, K. Liman (eds.), «Literis vivere». Księga Pamiątkowa Ofiarowana Profesorowi Andrzejowi Wójcikowi, Poznań 1996, 127–33. 3.  É. Delbey, “L’élégie De aue Phoenice: une poétique nouvelle de la métamorphose pour une esthétique du decus chez Lactance”, REL 76, 1998, 216–25. Évrard Delbey (3) asserts that Lactantius uses the Ovidian reference to the pietas of the Phoenix bird (met. 15.391–407) to present it in Christian code as unum et novum decus fidei, i. e. as a moral example (the link between the texts had already been the object of study by Nikitas 1, and Cytowska 2). Marius Victori(n)us –  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. For Roberts’ study, see ‘Dracontius’.

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Martianus Capella –  M. M. McGowan, “What distinguishes Ovid’s Pythagoras from the Pythagoras of Ausonius and Martianus Capella?”, Anabases 19, 2014, 189–204. For McGowan’s study, see ‘Ausonius’. Orientius –  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. For Roberts’ study, see ‘Dracontius’. Orosius –  S. M. Wheeler, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Universal History”, in D. S. Levene, D.  Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002, 163–90. For Wheeler’s chapter, see ‘Sulpicius Severus’. Paulinus of Nola 1.  L. Nicastri, “Paolino di Nola lettore di Ovidio”, in W.  Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, BernFrankfurt am Main 1999, II, 865–910 (= L. Nicastri, Classici nel tempo. Sondaggi sulla ricezione di Properzio, Orazio, Ovidio, Salerno 2003, 155–223). 2.  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. 3.  F. Bordone, “Un Fetonte cristiano? L’ascesa al cielo di Elia in Paolino di Nola (carm. 6, 77–78) tra memoria ovidiana  e nuove connotazioni simboliche”, BStudLat 36, 2006, 497–515. Luciano Nicastri (1) analyses the ways in which Paulinus uses his literary sources, among them classical authors, one of whom is Ovid. In addition, he reflects on the condition of Paulinus as a poet of the ‘Christian metamorphosis’, which particularly links him with Ovid. Fabrizio Bordone (3) studies Paulinus’ Laus sancti Iohannis (carm. 6) and specifically (506–15) the debt of Paulinus in ll. 77–8 (also that of Juvencus 3.267) to the Ovidian Phaethon, although this symbolic character is taken from Seneca’s revision.

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For Roberts’ study (2), see ‘Dracontius’. For Ian Fielding’s recent work on the reception of Ovid in this poet, see above ‘General’. Pentadius –  M. Mañas Núñez, “Aproximación al De Narcisso de Pentadio”, Fortunatae 6, 1994, 293–306. Manuel Mañas analyses the Ovidian influence on both the elegy and the epigram De Narcisso by Pentadius. Mañas comes to the debatable conclusion that Pentadius would have exceeded Ovid in verbal virtuosity. Prosper of Aquitaine –  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. For Roberts’ study, see ‘Dracontius’. Prudentius 1.  W. Evenepoel, “La présence d’Ovide dans l’oeuvre de Prudence”, in R. Chevalier (ed.), Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982, 165–76 (Caesarodunum 17 bis). 2.  L. Rivero García, La poesía de Prudencio, Huelva-Cáceres 1996. Reviews: R. Ficarra, BStudLat 27, 1997, 671–2; F. J. Udaondo Puerto, Helmantica 48, 1997, 468–9; J.-L. Charlet, Latomus 57, 1998, 922–3; A. A. R. Bastiaensen, Mnemosyne 52, 1999, 500–3; R. Florio, Faventia 22, 2000, 155–8. 3.  F. Comparelli, “La statua di sale”, Scholia 1, 1999, 75–95. 4.  J. Schwind, “Sobrietas und König Pentheus: kreative Ovid-Rezeption in Pru­ dentius’ Psychomachia”, in S. Harwardt, J.  Schwind (eds.), Corona coronaria: Fest­ schrift für Hans-Otto Kröner zum 75. Geburtstag, Hildesheim 2005, 321–31. 5.  Á. Urbán, “Ovidio en Prudencio: cuncta fluunt (Ovid. Met. 15,178 y Prud., Ham. 34)”, in M. Rodríguez Pantoja (ed.), Las raíces clásicas de Andalucía. Actas del IV congreso andaluz de estudios clásicos, Córdoba 2006, I, 435–41. An initial general look at the – relatively scarce – Ovidian presence in Prudentius’ poems, can be found in Evenepoel (1), while another, more up-to-date view is in Rivero (2, 202). Fabrizio Comparelli (3) considers the sources of the metamorphosis of Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt (ham. 730–67), and among them names (89–92) the model of the Ovidian Niobe (met. 6.261–5 and 301–10).

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Johannes Schwind (4) affirms and argues that, in spite of the evident echoes of Virgil, the main model for Sobrietas’ speech in Prudentius (psych. 344–406) is the speech of Pentheus in Ovid (met. 3). Ángel Urbán (5) starts by recalling the (few) examples of Ovidian presence in Prudentius’s Hamartigenia, and he in turn suggests (439–40) that the expression ham. 34 ex quo cuncta fluunt originates from met. 15.178 cuncta fluunt. Pseudo-Hilarius –  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. For Roberts’ study, see ‘Dracontius’. Reposianus –  M. T. Rodriquez, “Come lavorava Reposiano”, Vichiana 9, 1980, 119–31. Maria Teresa Rodriquez makes  a literary analysis of Concubitus Martis et Veneris by Reposianus, of his Baroque style and insistence on phonic, verbal metric, and chromatic elements, in accordance with the tastes of the era. She also examines his literary models, among whom Ovid occupies  a preeminent position, considerably higher than Virgil (see esp. 127–30). The reason for this can be summed up in this statement (129): “È con Ovidio che il mito abbandona la sua veste sacrale per essere razionalmente scrutato e divenire oggetto di un racconto favoloso”. Rutilius Namatianus 1. G. Tissol, “Ovid and the Exilic Journey of Rutilius Namatianus”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 435–46. 2.  A. Lagioia, “Le verdi chiome di Roma. Nota a Rut. Nam. I 115–116”, Maia 66, 2014, 146–56. Though not specifically dealing with met., the chapter by Garth Tissol alludes (1, 443–6) to Althea’s episode in Book 8, as mentioned by Rutilius in his De reditu suo with the mediation of trist. 1.7. Alessandro Lagioia (2) suggests an explanation of the parallel between the Ovidian Daphne, and the prosopopoeia of Rome in Rutilius (red. 1.115–6), with his reference to the crinales lauros and the virides … comas. Moreover, the author alludes to met. 1.548–9, where the construction cinguntur… in frondem crines appears, which would support the problematic senium … in virides… recinge comas of Rutilius. Lagioia

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makes a specific claim within this hypothesis: that Rutilius does not refer to rebirth of Rome, but to its metamorphosis. For Ian Fielding’s recent work on the reception of Ovid in this poet, see above ‘General’. Sedulius –  *H. Wójtowicz, “Recepcja Owidiusza u Seduliusza (“La réception d’Ovide chez Sedulius”)”, RoczHum 47, 1999, 77–88. Servius –  W. Scholl, Der Daphnis-Mythos und seine Entwicklung. Von den Anfängen bis zu Vergils vierter Ekloge, Hildesheim-Zürich-New York 2014 (Spudasmata 157). Reviews: U.  Reinhardt, AAHG 67, 2014, 112–15; A.  Encuentra, CFC(L) 35, 2015, 380–3; G. Scafoglio, BMCR 2015.09.30; W. Schubert, MH 72, 2015, 233–4; H. Bannert, WS 129, 2016, 347–8; F. Overduin, Mnemosyne 70, 2017, 1073–6. For a comparison between the versions of the Daphne myth by Ovid (met. 4.276–8) and Servius (ad ecl. 8.68), see Scholl, 107–10. Sidonius Apollinaris 1.  R. E. Colton, Some Literary Influences on Sidonius Apollinaris, Amsterdam 2000. 2.  C. Montuschi, “Sidonio Apollinare e Ovidio: esempi di riprese non solo verbali: (Sidon. carm. 2.405–35, 22.47–9)”, InvLuc 23, 2001, 161–81. 3.  G. Rosati, “La strategia del ragno, ovvero la rivincita di Aracne. Fortuna tardo-antica (Sidonio Apollinare, Claudiano) di un mito ovidiano”, in L.  Casarsa, L.  Cristante, M.  Fernandelli (eds.), Culture Europee  e tradizione latina. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi. Cividale del Friuli, Fondazione Niccolò Canussio, 16–17 novembre 2001, Trieste 2003, 119–41 (Polymnia. Studi di Filologia classica 1; also published in Dictynna 1, 2004, 63–82. 4.  S. Filosini, “Ovidio nell’epitalamio per Ruricio ed Iberia (Sidon. carm. 11)”, in R.  Poignault, A.  Stoehr-Monjou (eds.), Présence de Sidoine Apollinaire. Actes du colloque international, Université Blaise Pascal, Clermont-Ferrand, 19–20 octobre 2010, Tours 2014, 349–76 (Caesarodunum bis 54–55). In his monograph about Sidonius’ literary influences (Virgil, Horace, Propertius, Ovid, Ausonius and Rutilius Namatianus), Robert Colton (1, 136–62) selects 39  passages from met. which Sidonius might have incorporated into his poems (list available at 156–7; for Ovid’s other poems, see 163–79). For some recent bibliography on Sidonius and Ovid, see Montuschi (2, 161 n. 1).

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Claudia Montuschi (2) studies analogies between Sidonius (carm. 2.405–35) and several passages in Ovid’s met. 1, 2, 4 and 11; and Sid. carm. 22.47–9, and Ov. met. 9 and fast. 3, her aim being as follows (164): “Più che notare soltanto e semplicemente i richiami verbali e di struttura, per capire come Sidonio legge Ovidio vorrei rilevare soprattutto gli elementi che accomunano i due poeti nel modo di fare poesia  e di riutilizzare il materiale convenzionale relativo alle personificazioni degli elementi temporali”. For Rosati’s paper (3) on the re-use of Arachne’s myth by Sidonius in an epithalamium (carm. 15), see ‘Claudian’. Stefania Filosini (4) focuses on Sidonius’ other epithalamium: carm. 11, and points out “la possibilità, fin qui trascurata, di includere Ovidio tra i modelli “forti” dell’epitalamio; in altri termini, la presenza del poeta augusteo […] non è limitata esclusivamente al recupero di singole immagini o espressioni, ma agisce in profondità, giocando un ruolo importante nell’organizzazione narrativa del componimento” (349–50). More specifically, her aim is “verificare la possibilità di annoverare le Metamorfosi tra i modelli di riferimento del carme a partire dell’analisi delle modalità di recupero del mito di Fetonte” (350). She concludes that “l’originalità di Sidonio consista nel dare un’impronta nuova  a motivi  e temi tradizionali e […] egli esiga la collaborazione di un lettore dotto, in grado di seguire i percorsi di una complessa e dissimulata tramatura intertestuale, che non si esaurisce negli echi lessicali” (362). Sulpicius Severus –  S. M. Wheeler, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Universal History”, in D. S. Levene, D.  Nelis (eds.), Clio and the Poets: Augustan Poetry and the Traditions of Ancient Historiography, Leiden 2002, 163–90. Stephen Wheeler (170–1) compares, without necessarily establishing direct dependence, some common phraseological elements between the proem of met. and those of Sulp. Sev. (Chron. 1.1.1), Orosius (1.1.14), and Hieronymus (Vita Malchi 1.1). Symmachus –  P. Bruggisser, “Clin d’œil latin: Latiaris avant, chez et après Symmaque”, in J.-M. Carrié, R. Lizzi Testa (eds.), Humana sapit. Études d’Antiquité tardive offertes à Lellia Cracco Ruggini, Turnhout 2002, 97–110 (Bibliothèque de l’Antiquité tardive 3). Philippe Bruggisser looks at Symmachus’ use of the adj. Latiaris in epist. 9.88, and concludes (102) that “Il attribue ainsi dans la prose à Latiaris une acception [i. e. as a synonym of Latinus] que seule la poésie avait dévolue à sa variante Latialis”, his aim being “offrir un poétisme à un poète [sc. Ausonius]” (110). To this end he examines specifically Ovid’s use of Latialis in met. 15.481.

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Venantius Fortunatus 1.  S. Blomgren, “De locis Ovidii a Venantio Fortunato expressis”, Eranos 79, 1981, 82–5. 2. M. I. Campanale, “L’Ovidio ‘eroico’ di Venanzio Fortunato”, in I. Gallo, L. Nicastri (eds.), Aetates Ovidianae. Lettori di Ovidio dall’Antichità al Rinascimento, Napoli 1995, 133–52 (Pubblicazioni dell’Università degli Studi di Salerno. Sezione Atti Convegni Miscelanee 43). 3.  M. Roberts, “Creation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses and the Latin poets of late antiquity”, in G. Tissol, S. Wheeler (eds.), The Reception of Ovid in Antiquity, Arethusa 35.3, 2002, 403–15. 4.  S. Harwardt, “Zur Ovidrezeption in der Vita Martini des Venantius Fortunatus”, in S. Harwardt, J. Schwind (eds.), Corona coronaria: Festschrift für Hans-Otto Kröner zum 75. Geburtstag, Hildesheim 2005, 123–33. The note of Sven Blomgren (1) is an addendum to the previous lists of Ovidian echoes in the poems of Venantius Fortunatus, some of which were proposed by Blomgren himself. Maria I. Campanale (2) collects the very scarce examples of the met. in Venantius Fortunatus, since it is obvious that this author prefers ‘heroic elegy’ as represented by the Heroides. Sabine Harwardt (4) suggests reading Vita Martini beyond the scope of Sulpicius Severus or Paulinus of Périgueux, where previous studies had concentrated. As an illustration of this, the author suggests (127–33) looking at a speech in the scene of Trier’s recovery (Mart. 1.389–413) as  a ‘Kontrastfolie’ to the Ovidian Orpheus’s speech to Proserpina and Hades (met. 10.17–39). For Roberts’ study (3), see ‘Dracontius’. For Ian Fielding’s recent work on the reception of Ovid in this poet, see above ‘General’. 3. Greek Literature  The influence of Ovid (like that of other Latin authors) on later Greek literature is still questioned by scholars, especially since Paul Maas alluded to the lack of attention paid to Latin by the Greeks as “ein vielleicht unausgesprochenes, aber jedenfalls bindendes Gesetz” (ByzZ 35, 1935, 385; on the ‘Greek silence’, see Hose 1, and D’Ippolito 2, 311–7). Here we collect some general papers, followed – alphabetically – by specific studies on various authors and works.

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General 1.  M. Hose, ““The Silence of the Lambs”? On Greek Silence about Roman Literature”, in Á. Sánchez-Ostiz, J. B. Torres, R. Martínez (eds.), De Grecia a Roma y de Roma a Grecia: un camino de ida y vuelta, Pamplona 2007, 333–45. 2.  G. D’Ippolito, “Nonno di Panopoli  e i poeti latini”, in Á.  Sánchez-Ostiz, J. B. Torres, R. Martínez (eds.), De Grecia a Roma y de Roma a Grecia: un camino de ida y vuelta, Pamplona 2007, 311–31. 3.  E. Fisher, “Ovid’s Metempsychosis: The Greek East”, in J. G. Clark, F. T. Coulson, A. S. McKinley (eds.), Ovid in the Middle Ages, Cambridge-New York 2011, 26–47. 4.  J. B. Torres, “¿Ovidio en Grecia?: una hipótesis abierta”, Latomus 71, 2012, 428–43. 5.  L. A. Guichard, “Catálogos de metamorfosis de época imperial y tardoantigua”, in F. Citti, L. Pasetti, D. Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza e letteratura, Firenze 2014, 15–39. 6.  E. Magnelli, “Metamorfosi in poesia e poesia di metamorfosi in età ellenistica”, in F. Citti, L. Pasetti, D. Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza e letteratura, Firenze 2014, 41–62. Elizabeth Fisher devotes the initial pages of her work (3, 26–32) to reviewing the scholarship that addresses Ovid’s questioned influence on Greek authors, such as Triphiodorus of Egypt (3rd-4th c. ce), Quintus of Smyrna (3rd c. ce)  and  – more likely – Nonnus of Panopolis (5th c. ce). She tends to accept that Ovid did indeed have some influence on this period, even though recent scholarship seems to share the verdict of ‘Unproven influence of Latin authors’ (29). Her supposition is based on the explicit references to Ovid by early Byzantine authors such as John the Lydian, John of Antioch and Agathias of Myrina (30–1). Some general considerations about the viability of Ovid being imitated by Greek authors can also be found in José B. Torres’ article (4). The study by Luis A. Guichard (5) offers abundant material in terms of catalogues of metamorphoses, mostly in Greek, from imperial and late-antique periods (the texts are collected in an appendix in 30–8). Although it is unfeasible to establish beyond doubt the sources of these texts, Ovid’s possible influence on some of them is discussed e.g. in 25–6. References to other similar works of uncertain dating can be found in the study by Enrico Magnelli (6, 52–3).

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Achilles Tatius 1.  M. Ciappi, “Contaminazioni fra tradizioni letterarie affini di ascendenza tragica nel racconto ovidiano del mito di Procne e Filomela (met. VI 587–666)”, Maia 50, 1998, 433–63. 2.  R. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, “Spirat tragicum satis …: note al Tereus di Accio, tra filologia e storia della lingua”, Paideia 57, 2002, 84–98. 3.  F. Frontisi-Ducroux, “La violenza velata: il caso di Filomela”, Mythos 1, 2006/07, 39–47. 4.  F. Ghedini, “Ninfe braccate: il mito di Syrinx nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Colpo (ed.), Tra protostoria e storia. Studi in onore di Loredana Capuis, Roma 2011, 465–72 (Antenor Quaderni 20). Maurizio Ciappi (1, 452) considers that to Ovid’s grisly description of Tereus’ feast, and the showing of Itys’ head (met. 6.647–66), “è possibile accostare in modo signi­ficativo le parole di Achille Tazio (V 3, 7–8)”. Analysing the same passage, Rita Degl’Innocenti Pierini (2, 90–3) suggests the hypothesis that crudelia gaudia (met. 6.653), reflected in Achilles Tatius 5.3.7 (γελῶσι δὲ ἅμα καὶ φοβοῦνται) and 5.5.8 (γελῶσαι φόβῳ), might be derived from  a common Greek source, most likely Sophocles. She proposes that the phrase came to Ovid through Accius and, perhaps, also Lucretius (3.72 crudeles gaudent), although she does not believe in  a direct dependence between Ovid and Achilles Tatius (90 n. 27). The same two texts are the object of study in Françoise Frontisi-Ducroux’s article (3), although this author is not interested in the relation between them; rather, she focuses on how violence against the female body is reflected in them. Centred on the episode of Pan and Syrinx, the paper by Francesca Ghedini includes a brief study (4, 466–9) of Ovid’s influence on the works of Longus, Achilles Tatius, and Nonnus, whose versions “non si discostano molto dalla versione delle Metamorfosi, da cui desumono sia il presupposto della narrazione (…), sia la sequenza degli eventi” (469). Agathias of Myrina –  A. Alexakis, “Two verses of Ovid liberally translated by Agathias of Myrina (Metamorphoses 8.877–878 and Historiae 2.3.7)”, ByzZ 101, 2008, 609–16. Alexander Alexakis states that Agathias of Myrina imitates (Hist. 2.3.7) two verses of Ovid on the death of Erysichthon (met. 8.877–8), which shows first-hand knowledge of the Ovidian texts: “In view of what this short article suggests, it seems that Agathias might have been testing his audience, not only for their knowledge of Greek mythology, but also for their Latin” (615).

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Antoninus Liberalis 1.  J. Davidson, “Antoninus Liberalis and the Story of Prokris”, Mnemosyne 50, 1997, 165–84. 2.  S. Boehringer, “«  Iphis était une femme  » (Ovide, Mét. 9, 666–797)”, in F.  Lestringant et al. (eds.), Liber amicorum. Mélanges sur la littérature antique et moderne à la mémoire de Jean-Pierre Néraudau, Paris 2005, 83–94. 3.  E. Pellizer, “Morir d’amore a Salamina: Archeofonte e Iphis in Ovidio e Anto­ nino Liberale”, in G. Bastianini, W. Lapini, M. Tulli (eds.), Harmonia. Scritti di filo­ logia classica in onore di Angelo Casanova, Firenze 2012, II, 681–95 (Studi e saggi 109). John Davidson’s article (1) analyses the character of Procris in Antoninus Liberalis in light of all the tradition, naturally including Ovid (178–80), but without (166–7) establishing clear sources for Antoninus’ treatment. Ezio Pellizer (3) also asserts possible literary debts between the two authors, and applies the narratological analysis proposed by A.-J. Greimas to the episode of Archeophon / Iphis in Antoninus and Ovid. Sandra Boehringer (2) studies the character of Iphis in Ovid (met. 9.666–797), relating it to that of Leucippus as shown by Antoninus (17.1–6). Although Ovid changes the character’s name, he places it in the same scenario: in both cases they are girls brought up as boys, who end up changing their sex to male. Of course, while Antoninus’ Leucippus is described as a boy in a woman’s body, throughout his story Ovid constantly emphasises Iphis’ femininity, which is clearly implied in her sexual attraction towards Ianthus. Flavius Josephus –  H.-Ch. Gossmann, “Die Möglichkeit der literarischen Abhängigkeit des Josephus von Ovid”, ZRGG 41, 1989, 83–6. Hans-Christoph Gossmann asserts the possibility that Flavius Josephus might have taken from the Ovidian narrative of the flood (Book 1), due to Noah’s identification with Deucalion, the fact that the divine promise not to send a second flood was thanks to Noah’s plea. This detail does not appear in biblical sources. Lithica –  W. Appel, “Antyczna Opowieŝĉ o Koralu (“De origine mythica corallii”; abstr. in Latin in 459)”, Meander 36, 1981, 453–9. Włodzimierz Appel focuses on the Ovidian episode of the corals (met. 4.740–52) and the extensive recreation made by the anonymous author of the poem Lithica (510–609).

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Longus –  F. Ghedini, “Ninfe braccate: il mito di Syrinx nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Colpo (ed.), Tra protostoria e storia. Studi in onore di Loredana Capuis, Roma 2011, 465–72 (Antenor Quaderni 20). For Ghedini’s work, see ‘Achilles Tatius’. Lucian of Samosata 1.  V. Cristóbal, “Perseo y Andrómeda: Versiones antiguas y modernas”, CFC 23, 1989, 51–96. 2.  M. Ciappi, “La narrazione ovidiana del mito di Fetonte e le sue fonti. L’importanza della tradizione tragica”, Athenaeum 88, 2000, 117–68. 3.  P. von Möllendorff, Auf der Suche nach der verlogenen Wahrheit. Lukians Wahre Geschichten, Tübingen 2000. 4.  M. L. West, “The Flood Myth in Ovid, Lucian, and Nonnus”, in J. A. López Férez (ed.), Mitos en la literatura griega helenística e imperial, Madrid 2003, 245–59 (Estudios de Filología Griega 8). In his review of the literary presence of the Perseus and Andromeda myth, Vicente Cristóbal, along with the Ovidian treatment (met. 4.610–5.249), mentions (1, 66–8) that of Lucian (DMar 14), although without establishing the necessary links between both, and even pointing out certain differences. Peter von Möllendorff (3, 441–2) finds some influence of the Ovidian Palace of Sleep (Book 11) in Lucian’s True History. For Ciappi’s (2) and West’s (4) papers, see ‘Nonnus of Panopolis’. Musaeus –  J. B. Torres, “¿Ovidio en Grecia?: una hipótesis abierta”, Latomus 71, 2012, 428–43. José B. Torres considers Musaeus’ dependence on Ovid (which he neither takes for granted nor rejects openly) for the Hero and Leander episode. He then carries out a brief review (440–2) of other possible references up to the 6th c. ce. Nonnus of Panopolis 1.  H. Herter, “Ovidianum quintum. Das Diluvium bei Ovid und Nonnos”, ICS 6, 1981, 319–55. 2.  K. H. Eller, “Die Metamorphose bei Ovid und Nonnos. Mythische Poesie im Vergleich”, AU 25, 1982, 88–98.

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3.  P. E. Knox, “Phaethon in Ovid and Nonnus”, CQ 38, 1988, 536–51. 4.  C. Zimmerman, The Pastoral Narcissus. A Study of the First Idyll of Theocritus, Lanham 1994. Review: N. Hopkinson, CR 45, 1995, 433. 5.  M. Ciappi, “Contaminazioni fra tradizioni letterarie affini di ascendenza tragica nel racconto ovidiano del mito di Procne e Filomela (met. VI 587–666)”, Maia 50, 1998, 433–63. 6.  A. Villarrubia, “Nono de Panópolis y el mito de Acteón”, Habis 29, 1998, 249–68. 7.  M. Ciappi, “La narrazione ovidiana del mito di Fetonte e le sue fonti. L’importanza della tradizione tragica”, Athenaeum 88, 2000, 117–68. 8.  M. L. West, “The Flood Myth in Ovid, Lucian, and Nonnus”, in J. A. López Férez (ed.), Mitos en la literatura griega helenística e imperial, Madrid 2003, 245–59 (Estudios de Filología Griega 8). 9.  G. D’Ippolito, “Nonno di Panopoli e i poeti latini”, in Á. Sánchez-Ostiz, J. B. Torres, R. Martínez (eds.), De Grecia a Roma y de Roma a Grecia: un camino de ida y vuelta, Pamplona 2007, 311–31. 10.  P. Habermehl, “Die Hintergrundstrahlung eines kosmischen Mythos: Phaë­ thon in Kaiserzeit und Spätantike”, in K.-J. Hölkeskamp, S. Rebenich (eds.), Phaë­ thon. Ein Mythos in Antike und Moderne. Eine Dresdner Tagung, Stuttgart 2009, 45–59. 11.  F. Ghedini, “Ninfe braccate: il mito di Syrinx nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Colpo (ed.), Tra protostoria e storia. Studi in onore di Loredana Capuis, Roma 2011, 465–72 (Antenor Quaderni 20). 12.  P. Hardie, Rumour and Renown. Representations of Fama in Western Literature, Cambridge-New York 2012 (Cambridge Classical Studies). Reviews: A. Augoustakis, BMCR 2013.02.13; N. Holzberg, CW 107, 2014, 281–2; D. Quint, Mnemosyne 67, 2014, 1032–4; G. D. Williams, JRS 104, 2014, 339–40. 13.  P. Kuhlmann, “The motif of the rape of Europa: intertextuality and absurdity of the myth in epyllion and epic insets”, in M. Baumbach, S. Bär (eds.), Brill’s companion to Greek and Latin Epyllion and Its Reception, Leiden-Boston 2012, 473–90. 14. M. Paschalis, “Ovidian Metamorphosis and Nonnian poikilon eidos”, in K. Spanoudakis (ed.), Nonnus of Panopolis in Context. Poetry and Cultural Milieu in Late Antiquity with a Section on Nonnus and the Modern World, Berlin-Boston 2014, 97–122 (Trends in Classics – Supplementary Volumes). Hans Herter (1) starts from the premise that Nonnus’ work “gewisse Berührungen mit den Metamorphosen aufweisen” (318), leading him to offer a critical comparison of the artistic intentions of both poets, taking as an example the episode of the flood. His detailed analysis includes firstly (318–20) a revision of the scholarship about the

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links between the two poets, and also a discussion of their sources. His conclusion is that “Quellengemeinschaft ist die näherliegende und einfachere, ja oft unumgängliche Lösung unseres Problems” (347). Karl Heinz Eller (2) focuses on the concept of metamorphosis and the distinct uses made thereof by Ovid and Nonnus (89), illustrating his point with different episodes (90–8). Nonnus’ use is more restricted, to the extent that the objective of metamorphic thought (‘Verwandlungsgedanken’) is to show the specifics of the Dionysian religion. Peter Knox (3), who focuses on Phaethon’s story, argues overtly against a direct link between Ovid and Nonnus (in general, and hence also for this episode; a survey of the scholarship on the matter can be found in 536–7): “The evidence begins to suggest that Ovid and Nonnus are on parallel but not converging tracks” (543). In analysing different elements of the story, Knox cites evidence of multiple lost Hellenistic sources which, according to his thesis, were more likely to serve as intertext in the eyes of his Greek audience: “It is (…) possible that Nonnus could read Latin, even Latin poetry, but it is unlikely that he could count on an audience that would recognize and admire his dexterous re-handling of Ovidian material” (551). In the first chapter of his book (“Tracing the Narcissus Myth”, 1–22), Clayton Zimmerman reviews the distinct literary and iconographic versions of the Narcissus myth in Antiquity, logically including Ovid’s. He suggests (4, 9) that Nonnus could be using Ovid as his source. Maurizio Ciappi (5, 451) relates the grisly episode of Tereus’ feast in Ovid (met. 6.636–46) and Nonnus (44.265–9), but without establishing the necessary connections of dependency between them: “possiamo accostare alla descrizione ovidiana alcuni testi, primo fra tutti il ricordo del tremendo episodio presente in Nonno”. Ciappi dedicates another study (7) to the myth of Phaethon in Ovid (met. 1.747–2.400): though he is mainly interested in Ovid’s sources, he also pays attention to the treatment of the episode in later texts (Sulp.Max. CIL VI 33976; Lucianus DDeor 25; Philostr. Im. 1.11), and in his comparative analysis, he contrasts especially Nonnus (38.105–434; see passim, and esp. 117–21). Nevertheless, he does not take any position regarding the relationship between Ovid and Nonnus. Peter Habermehl (10, esp. 57–8) takes a similar stance on the same myth: he carries out a reading in political code of Nonnus’ version, and claims that this author found his own means of accessing the myth, based on the traditional elements which characterise it (among which Ovid’s version stands out), but with an undeniable element of innovation. Antonio Villarrubia (6) studies the myth of Actaeon in Nonnus (5.287–555). In considering its predecessors, he obviously deals (252–4) with Ovid’s versions (met. 3.138–252; Ib. 479), and in his conclusions (268) he claims explicitly that Nonnus had knowledge of the Ovidian texts (a different approach to the same episode, in Paschalis 14, 109–21). Martin West (8) makes an interesting analysis of the details which shape the flood stories in Ovid (Book 1), Lucian (Syr.D. 12–13) and Nonnus (3.204–19; 6.224–388), comparing them throughout with Mesopotamian and biblical sources. In terms of

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the possible dependence of Greek authors on Ovid, nothing is confirmed explicitly, although in the case of Nonnus a conceivable interrelation is noted (258): “Indeed, some of the details are so similar to Ovid’s account that it looks as if Nonnus has drawn on Ovid, or else both poets have drawn on a common Hellenistic source”. Gennaro D’Ippolito, who had already asserted Nonnus’ dependence on Ovid in his Studi Nonniani (1964), returns to the topic of the Greek epic poet’s relation with the Latin writer, and devotes the most extensive part of his paper to Ovid (9, 321–31). He defends this indebtedness again, claiming it is  a case of disguised imitation (“imitazione celata”) which best fits the “atteggiamento distaccato” (316) of the Greeks in those times. The Ovidian works that, according to him, were object of Nonnus’ interest are met., ars and epist. Philip Hardie also addresses, in the sixth chapter of his book (12, 178–225: “Later imperial epic”), the possible debt of Nonnus’ Typhoeus to Latin poetry in general (214–25). As far as the relation between Ovid and Nonnus is concerned, he neither affirms nor rejects it plainly (224): “As often, Nonnus’ poetic games strike the Ovidian with a beguiling sense of familiarity […]. I note two aspects in which Nonnus seems to come particularly close to Ovidian practice. Firstly, the erotics of the text […]. Secondly, there are the intricate connections between framing and framed narratives […]. Neither of these two similarities is of course of a kind specific enough to be used as conclusive evidence that Nonnus had read Ovid”. Peter Kuhlmann (13) studies the myth of Europa in Moschus (473–82), Ovid (482–5), and Nonnus (485–9), and states that “there are both intertextual allusions on the level of motifs and a narratological intertextuality” (490), but avoids proposing overtly any direct indebtedness between Ovid and Nonnus. Michael Paschalis (14) studies the differences between Ovid and Nonnus as regards the issue of transformation (“[B]oth Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Nonnus’ Dionysiaca place transformation at the heart of their poetic program but in different terms”, 121). In any case, he rejects from early on the idea that Nonnus “used Ovid’s epic as a source text”, even while admitting that “Nonnus’ familiarity with the Metamorphoses is not improbable” (97, with further references in n. 2). For Ghedini’s paper (11), see ‘Achilles Tatius’. Philostratus –  M. Ciappi, “La narrazione ovidiana del mito di Fetonte e le sue fonti. L’importanza della tradizione tragica”, Athenaeum 88, 2000, 117–68. For Ciappi’s paper, see ‘Nonnus of Panopolis’.

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Planudes 1.  V. García Yebra, “Interlingüística greco-latina en la traducción de las Metamorfosis por Planudes”, in P. Bádenas de la Peña, A. Martínez Díez, Mª. E. MartínezFresneda, E.  Rodríguez Monescillo (eds.), Athlon. Satura grammatica in honorem Francisci R. Adrados, Madrid 1987, II, 335–54. 2.  A. Dihle, “Zu den Ovid-Übersetzungen des Maximos Planudes”, in W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid: Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, II, 993–1003. 3.  E. Fisher, “Ovid’s Metamorphoses, sailing to Byzantium”, CML 27, 2007, 45–67. Valentín García Yebra (1) offers an analysis of Planudes’ means and techniques of translation applied to Books 1 and 2 of met.; Albrecht Dihle carries out  a similar task (2), with reference to met. and epist. Elizabeth Fisher (3) studies Planudes’ translation of met. within the general frame of his scholarly production. She also offers a detailed study of Planudes’ technique as a translator, through close observation of his extant autograph codex (Vat. Regin. Graec. 132). Quintus Smyrnaeus –  E. Fisher, “Ovid’s Metempsychosis: The Greek East”, in J. G. Clark, F. T. Coulson, A. S. McKinley (eds.), Ovid in the Middle Ages, Cambridge-New York 2011, 26–47. For Fisher’s study, see above ‘General’. Q. Sulpicius Maximus 1.  S. Döpp, “Das stegreifgedicht des Q.  Sulpicius Maximus”, ZPE 114, 1996, 99–114. 2.  H. Bernsdorff, “Q. Sulpicius Maximus, Apollonios von Rhodos und Ovid”, ZPE 118, 1997, 105–12. 3.  M. Ciappi, “La narrazione ovidiana del mito di Fetonte e le sue fonti. L’importanza della tradizione tragica”, Athenaeum 88, 2000, 117–68. Siegmar Döpp (1) discusses the relation between Ovid and Sulpicius Maximus. As a response to him, Hans Bernsdorff (2, esp. 105–10) defends Sulpicius’ indebtedness to Ovid in ll. 25–6 (cf. met. 2.42–3) and 12–13 (cf. met. 2.238–9). For Ciappi’s paper (3), see ‘Nonnus of Panopolis’.

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Triphiodorus –  E. Fisher, “Ovid’s Metempsychosis: The Greek East”, in J. G. Clark, F. T. Coulson, A. S. McKinley (eds.), Ovid in the Middle Ages, Cambridge-New York 2011, 26–47. For Fisher’s study, see above ‘General’.

IX. Appendix: Pervivence in Music and Plastic Arts 1.  L. Barkan, “Diana and Actaeon: The myth as Synthesis”, English Literary Renaissance 10, 1980, 317–59. 2.  T. Puttfarken, “Golden Age and Justice in Sixteenth-Century Florentine Political Thought and Imagery: Observations on Three Pictures by Jacopo Zucchi”, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 43, 1980, 130–49. 3.  E. Schrijver, “Amsterdam. Dutch Silver”, The Burlington Magazine 122, 1980, 146, 149, 151. 4.  I. M. Veldman, “Seasons, Planets and Temperaments in the Work of Maarten van Heemskerck Cosmo-Astrological Allegory in Sixteenth-Century Netherlandish Prints”, Simiolus 11, 1980, 149–76. 5.  K. Andrews, “Elsheimer’s Latona Uncovered”, The Burlington Magazine 123, 1981, 348, 350–1, 353. 6.  S. Béguin, “Two Drawings by Michel Rochetel”, Master Drawings 19, 1981, 157–60, 220–1. 7.  G. L. Hersey, “Ovid, Vico, and the central garden at Caserta”, The Journal of Garden History 1, 1981, 3–34. 8.  P. Howard (ed.), C. W. von Gluck. Orfeo, Cambridge 1981. Reviews: C. N. Smith, Journal of European Studies 12, 1982, 150–2; F. W. Sternfeld, Music & Letters 63, 1982, 295–6. 9.  *B. Guthmüller, Studien zur antiken Mythologie in der italienischen Renaissance, Weinheim 1986. Reviews: G. von Graevenitz, RomForsch 98, 1986, 454–6; A.  Gier, Arcadia 22, 1987, 209–10. 10.  H. Kugler (ed.), Ambrosius Metzger. Metamorphosis Ovidij in Meisterthöne gebracht, Berlin 1981 (Texte des späten Mittelalters und der frühen Neuzeit 31). Review: W.  Röll, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum und deutsche Literatur 115, 1986, 189–91. 11.  R. Penrose, Picasso, his life and work, Berkeley-Los Angeles 1981 (19583). 12.  T. Pignatti, “‘Spalliere’ Paintings by Paolo Veronese”, The Burlington Maga­ zine 123, 1981, 476, 478–81. 13.  Z. P. Ambrose, “Another Lament in Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen”, Bach 13.3, 1982, 20–2. 14. A. Delaforce, “The Collection of Antonio Pérez, Secretary of State to Philip II”, The Burlington Magazine 124, 1982, 742–53. 15.  I. Gaskell, “Gerrit Dou, His Patrons and the Art of Painting”, Oxford Art Journal 5, 1982, 15–23. 16.  M. Levey, “A Boucher Mythological Painting Interpreted”, The Burlington Magazine 124, 1982, 438, 442–6.

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17.  R. López Torrijos, La mitología en la pintura española del siglo XVII, Diss. Universidad Complutense, Madrid 1982, 2 vols. 18.  R. López Torrijos, La mitología en la pintura española en los siglos XVI y XVII, Madrid 1982. 19.  R. Chevallier, Colloque Présence d’Ovide, Paris 1982 (Caesarodunum XVII bis). 20.  T. Puttfarken, “Mutual Love and Golden Age: Matisse and ‘gli Amori de’ Carracci’”, The Burlington Magazine 124, 1982, 203–8. 21.  C. Robertson, “Annibal Caro as Iconographer: Sources and Method”, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 45, 1982, 160–81. 22.  J. Solomon, “Reflections of Ovid in Semele’s Mirror”, Music & Letters 63, 1982, 226–41. 23.  R. Verdi, “Poussin and the Tricks of Fortune”, The Burlington Magazine 124, 1982, 680–5. 24.  W. Hefford, “The Chicago Pygmalion and the English Metamorphoses”, Art Institute of Chicago Museum Studies 10, 1983, 92–117. 25.  J. D. Hunt, “Ovid in the Garden”, AA Files 3, 1983, 3–11 (= Garden and Grove: The Italian Renaissance Garden in the English Imagination, 1600–1750, Dent 1986, 42–58). 26.  J. M. Keen, The Perseus and Pygmalion legends in later nineteenth-century literature and art, with special reference to the influence of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Diss. University of Southampton 1983. 27.  M. Krieger, “Orpheus mit Glück: The Deceiving Gratifications of Presence”, Theatre Journal 35, 1983, 295–305. 28.  E. McGrath, “‘The Drunken Alcibiades’: Rubens’s Picture of Plato’s Symposium”, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 46, 1983, 228–35. 29.  W. E. Rex, “Sobering Reflections on  a Forgotten French Opera Libretto”, Eighteenth-Century Studies 16, 1983, 389–400. 30.  J. Solomon, “Polyphemus’s Whistle in Handel’s Acis and Galatea”, Music & Letters 64, 1983, 37–43. 31.  *J. Van Tatenhove, “Een episode uit de fabel van Erysichthon getekend door Maarten de Vos”, Oud Holland, Quarterly for Duth Art History 97, 1983, 53–8. 32.  I. Fenlon, “Monteverdi’s Mantuan Orfeo. Some new documentation”, Early Music 12, 1984, 163–72. 33.  M. Heyd, “Dali’s Metamorphosis of Narcissus Reconsidered”, Artibus et Historiae 5.10, 1984, 121–31. 34.  A. Hicks, “Semele’s Mirror and Polyphemus’s Whistle”, Music & Letters 65, 1984, 213–16. 35.  L. C. Hults, “Baldung’s Bewitched Groom Revisited: Artistic Temperament, Fantasy and the Dream of Reason”, The Sixteenth Century Journal 15, 1984, 259–79.

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36.  J. Ingamells, K. Laing, “A Hireling Shepherd in a Painting by Claude”, The Burlington Magazine 126, 1984, 758–61. 37.  T. H. Lunsingh Scheurleer, “The Philippe d’Orléans Ivory Cabinet by Pierre Gole”, The Burlington Magazine 126, 1984, 324, 332–7, 339. 38.  J. Plesters, “Tintoretto’s Paintings in the National Gallery”, National Gallery Technical Bulletin 8, 1984, 24–35. 39.  R. A. Scorza, “A ‘Modello’ by Stradanus for the ‘Sala di Penelope’ in the Palazzo Vecchio”, The Burlington Magazine 126, 1984, 432–5, 437. 40.  J. Solomon, “Handel’s Mythological Sources”, Music & Letters 65, 1984, 321–2. 41.  K. Stahlberg, “Virgil Solis und die Holzschnitte zu den Metamorphosen des Ovid”, Marginalien 95, 1984, 29–35. 42.  R. López Torrijos, La mitología en la pintura española del Siglo de Oro, Madrid 1985. 43.  T. Stolzenhain, “Metamorphosen  – Bilder zu Ovid. Gedanken über Kunstwerke zu literarischen Vorlagen”, in M. Kunze (ed.), Antikerezeption heute. Protokoll eines Kolloquiums, Stendal 1985, 115–19. 44.  O. Bätschmann, Nicolas Poussin. Landschaft mit Pyramus und Thisbe. Das Liebesunglück und die Grenzen der Malerei, Frankfurt a. M. 1987. 45.  N. Llewellyn, “Illustring Ovid”, in C. Martindale (ed.), Ovid renewed. Ovidian influences on literature and art from the Middle Ages to the twentieth century, Cambridge 1988, 151–66. 46.  B. Mundt (ed.), Die Verführung der Europa. Katalogbuch der gleichnamigen Ausstellung im Kunstgewerbemuseum, Berlin 1988. 47.  F. W. Sternfeld, “Orpheus, Ovid and Opera”, Journal of the Royal Musical Association 113, 1988, 172–202. 48.  *G. Amielle, Recherches sur les traductions françaises des Métamorphoses d’Ovide illustrées et publiées en France à la fin du XV e siècle et au XVI e siècle, Paris 1989. Review: F. Bardon, Latomus 50, 1991, 710–12. 49.  G. Amielle, “Traduction picturale et traduction littéraire des Métamorphoses d’Ovide, en France, à la Renaissance”, BAGB 3, 1989, 280–93. 50. R. Brandt, “Pictor philosophus: Nicolas Poussin, ‘Gewitterlandschaft mit Pyramus und Thisbe’”, Städel Jahrbuch 12, 1989, 243–58. 51.  A. Caubet, “Pygmalion et la statue d’ivoire”, in É. Roland, M.-T. Le Dinahet, M. Yon (eds.), Architecture et poésie dans le monde grec. Hommages à Georges Roux, Paris 1989, 247–54. 52.  G. Huber, “Le Metamorfosi di Ovidio nella grafica europea fra Quattroe Settecento”, RPL 13, 1990, 109–12. 53.  M. von Albrecht, “De Ovidio poeta memoriae et de Metamorphoseon Ovidianorum memoria”, G. Papponetti (ed.), Ovidio, poeta della memoria. Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi. Sulmona, 19–21 ottobre 1989, Roma 1991, 181–9.

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54. *B. Guthmüller, “Europa  – Kontinent und Mythos”, in A.  Buck, Der Europa-Gedanke, Tübingen 1992 (Reihe der Villa Vigoni 7). 55. G. Huber-Rebenich, “L’iconografia della mitologia antica tra Quattroe Cinquecento. Edizioni illustrate delle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, Studi Umanistici Piceni 12, 1992, 123–33. 56.  *E. Pianezzola, “Il mito e le sue forme: l’eredità delle Metamorfosi nella cultura occidentale”, in M.  Ramous (ed.),  P. Ovidio Nasone. Metamorfosi, Milano 1992, XLV–LXXVII (= E. Pianezzola, Ovidio. Modelli retorici e forma narrativa, Firenze 1999, 161–91). 57.  U. Schmitzer, “Meeresstille und Wasserrohrbruch. Über Herkunft, Funktion und Nachwirkung der Gleichnisse in Ovids Erzählung von Pyramus und Thisbe (Met. 4,55–166)”, Gymnasium 99, 1992, 519–45. 58.  P. Barolsky, “Ovidian Wit and Erotic Play in the Painted Poetry of Correggio”, Notes in the History Art 12, 1993, 19–23. 59.  M. Nykjær, “La Villa Farnesina: identificazione di un motivo ovidiano nella Sala delle Prospettive”, ARID 21, 1993, 213–18. 60.  P. Barolsky, “A Very Brief History of Art from Narcissus to Picasso”, CJ 90, 1995, 255–9. 61.  J. L. Buller, “Looking Backwards: Baroque Opera and the Ending of the Orpheus Myth”, International Journal of the Classical Tradition 1, 1995, 57–79. 62.  B. Czapla, “Salvador Dalís Metamorphose des Narziss. Anregung zu einer erneuten Ovidbetrachtung”, Arcadia 30, 1995, 186–205. 63.  *H. Walter, H.-J. Horn (eds.), Die Rezeption der Metamorphosen des Ovid in der Neuzeit. Der antike Mythos in Text und Bild. Internationales Symposion der Werner Reimers-Stiftung, Bad Homburg v.d.H. (22. bis 25. April 1991, Berlin 1995 (Ikonographische Repertorien zur Rezeption des antiken Mythos in Europa 1). Review: R. J. Hexter, IJCT 6, 1999, 75–88. 64.  *B. Guthmüller, “Tintoretto  e Ovidio. Il problema dei testi mediatori”, in P. Rossi, L. Puppi (eds.), Jacopo Tintoretto nel quarto centenario della morte. Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi (Venezia, 24–26 novembre 1994), Padova 1996, 257–62. 65.  M. Hotz, “Die Metamorphose der Daphne in Ovids Metamorphosen und Richard Strauss’ Oper Daphne”, Anregung 42, 1996, 146–60. 66.  H.-B. Guthmüller, Mito, poesia, arte. Saggi sulla tradizione ovidiana nel Rinascimento, Roma 1997 (Biblioteca del Cinquecento 69). 67.  H.-J. Horn, H. Walter (eds.), Die Allegorese des antiken Mythos, Wiesbaden 1997 (Wolfenbütteler Forschungen 75). 68.  P. Barolsky, “As in Ovid, so in Renaissance Art”, RenQ 51, 1998, 451–74. 69.  P. Barolsky, “Florentine Metamorphoses of Ovid”, Arion 6.1, 1998, 9–31. 70.  P. Barolsky, “Poussin’s Ovidian Stoicism”, Arion 6.2, 1998, 4–10.

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71.  *E. Blattner, Holzschnittfolgen zu den Metamorphosen des Ovid: Venedig 1497 und Mainz 1545, München 1998 (Beiträge zur Kunstgeschichte 72). Review: M. Thimann, JKG 4, 2000, 56–61. 72.  F. Díez Platas, J. M. Monterroso Montero, “Mitología para poderosos: Las Metamorfosis de Ovidio. Tres ediciones ilustradas del siglo XVI en la Biblioteca Xeral de Santiago”, Semata 10, 1998, 451–72. 73.  Mª C. Álvarez Morán, R. Mª Iglesias Montiel, “Filemón y Baucis”, in E. Fer­ nández de Mier, F. Piñero (eds.), Amores míticos, Madrid 1999, 117–35 (= SFulg 16, 2006, 123–37). 74.  S. Badstübner-Gröger, “Bemerkungen zum Thema der Metamorphosen des Ovid in den plastischen Bildprogrammen friderizianischer Architektur”, in K. Kali­ nowski (ed.), Studien zur barocken Gartenskulptur, Poznań 1999, 203–29. 75.  P.-J. Dehon, “L’épopée antique, un précurseur méconnu du cinéma ‘Gore’”, EMC 18, 1999, 219–45. 76.  H. Hofmann, “Odysseus: Von Homer bis zu James Joyce”, in H. Hofmann (ed.), Antike Mythen in der europäischen Tradition, Tübingen 1999, 27–67. 77.  N. Holzberg, “Apollos erste Liebe und die Folgen. Ovids Daphne-Erzählung als Programm für Werk und Wirkung”, Gymnasium 106, 1999, 317–34. 78.  G. Huber-Rebenich, Metamorphosen der Metamorphosen. Ovids Verwandlungssagen in der textbegleitenden Druckgraphik, Rudolstadt 1999. 79.  C. Kruse, “Selbsterkenntnis als Medienerkenntnis: Narziß an der Quelle von Alberti bis Caravaggio”, Marburger Jahrbuch für Kunstwissenschaft 26, 1999, 99–116. 80.  D. M. Poduska, “Classical Myth in Music: A Selective List”, The Classical World 92, 1999, 195–276. 81.  W. Schubert (ed.), Ovid. Werk und Wirkung. Festgabe für Michael von Albrecht zum 65. Geburtstag, Bern-Frankfurt am Main 1999, 2 vols. Reviews: C. R. Raschle, MH 57, 325; H. Hofmann, RPL 7, 2004, 193–6. 82.  M. Beck, B. Simons, “Ovid und Benjamin Britten”, in M. Baumbach (ed.), Tradita et inventa. Beiträge zur Rezeption der Antike, Heidelberg 2000, 531–48. 83.  F. Díez Platas, Imágenes para un texto. Guía iconográfica de las Metamorfosis de Ovidio, Santiago de Compostela 2000. 84.  D. Fowler, Roman Constructions. Reading in Postmodern Latin, Oxford 2000. Review: W. S. Anderson, BMCR 2000.11.26. 85.  U. Reinhardt, “Griechische Mythen in der Bildenden Kunst des 20. Jahrhunderts. Highlights zu Homers Odyssee und Ovids Metamorphosen”, Gymnasium 107, 2000, 25–71. 86.  *R. Granobs (eds.), Antiker Mythos in Text und Bild von Aeneas bis Vertumnus. Antikenrezeption auf Werken der Gemäldegalerie Berlin. Eine Materialsammlung für Schüler und Lehrer. Idee und Konzeption, Berlin 2001.

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Review: J. Kühne, Forum Classicum 3, 2002, 225–6. 87.  H. Friedel (ed.), Pygmalions Werkstatt. Die Erschaffung des Menschen im Atelier von der Renaissance bis zum Surrealismus, Köln 2001. 88.  L. Freedman, G. Huber-Rebenich, Wege zum Mythos, Berlin 2001 (Ikonographische Repertorien zur Rezeption des antiken Mythos in Europa 3). Review: N. Agapiou, RenQ 56, 2003, 832–3; J. Schmidt, The Sixteenth Century Journal 34, 2003, 881–2. 89.  U. Reinhardt, Ovids Metamorphosen in der modernen Kunst, Bamberg 2001. 90.  C. Distelrath, “Romeo und Julia im Film – Pyramus und Thisbe bei Ovid”, AU 45, 2002, 40–3. 91.  *L. Florman, Myth and Metamorphosis. Picasso’s Classical Prints of the 1930s, Cambridge (MA), 2002 (20012). Review: T. Jenkins, BMCR 2003.06.47. 92.  G. Huber-Rebenich, “Kontinuität und Wandel in der frühen italienischen Ovid-Illustration. Die Tradition der Holzschnitte zu Giovanni kann Bonsignoris Ovidio Metamorphoseos vulgare”, in H. Marek, A. Neuschäfer, S, Tichy (eds.), Metamorphosen. Wandlungen und Verwandlungen in Literatur, Sprache und Kunst von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart. Festschrift für Bodo Guthmüller zum 65. Geburtstag, Wiesbaden 2002, 63–79. 93.  M. Warner, Fantastic Metamorphoses, Other Worlds. Ways of Telling the Self, Oxford 2002. 94.  E. Bury (ed.), Lectures d’Ovide, publiées à la mémoire de Jean-Pierre Néraudau, Paris 2003. 95.  F. Díez Platas, “Tres maneras de ilustrar a Ovidio: una aproximación al estudio iconográfico de las Metamorfosis figuradas del XVI”, in M. C. Folgar de la Calle, A. E. Goy, J. M. López Vázquez (eds.), Memoria Artis. Studia in memoriam Mª Dolores Vila Jato, Santiago de Compostela 2003, I, 247–67. 96.  D. de Selliers (ed.), Les Métamorphoses illustrées par la peinture baroque, Paris 2003, 2 vols. (= Le Metamorfosi di Ovidio illustrate dalla pittura barocca, Firenze 2003). 97.  J. K. Newman, “Ovid’s epic, Picasso’s art”, Latomus 62, 2003, 362–72. 98.  G. Huber-Rebenich, S. Lütkemeyer, H. Walter, Ikonographisches Repertorium zu den Metamorphosen des Ovid. Die textbegleitende Druckgraphik, Berlin 2004, II Sammeldarstellungen. 99.  R. S. Kilpatrick, “Death by Fire: Ovidian and Other Inventions in Two Mythological Paintings of Dosso Dossi (1486–1534)”, MAAR 49, 2004, 127–51. 100.  J. Leonhardt, K. Krause, “Poesie und Bild: die Actaeon-Geschichte in Ovids Metamorphosen”, in R. Brandt, S. Schmidt (eds.), Mythos und Mythologie, Berlin 2004, 147–67. 101.  *R. Prochno, K. Rossbacher, “Dichtung und Malerei: das Beispiel Ikarus bei Ovid, Pieter Brueghel d. Ä., W. H. Auden, Wolf Biermann”, in S. Coelsch-Foisner,

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M.  Schwarzbauer (eds.), Metamorphosen. Akten der Tagung der Interdisziplinären Forschungsgruppe Metamorphosen an der Universität Salzburg in Kooperation mit der Universität Mozarteum und der Internationalen Gesellschaft für Polyästhetische Erziehung (Zell an der Pram, 2003), Heidelberg 2005, 97–117. Reviews: P. Nicklas, Poetica 38, 2006, 189–96; M. Schmitz-Emans, Komparatistik 2005/06, 168ss.; B. Kytzler, MLatJb 44, 2009, 309ss.; R. Unruh, Auskunft 31, 2011, 256–7. 102. W. Schubert, “Musik und Dichtung. Richard Strauss / Joseph Gregor: Daphne”, in Die Antike in der neueren Musik. Dialog der Epochen, Künste, Sprachen und Gattungen, Bern-Frankfurt a. M. 2005, 285–323 (Quellen und Studien zur Musikgeschichte von der Antike bis in die Gegenwart 42). 103.  M. Thimann, Jean Jacques Boissard, Ovids Metamorphosen 1556. Die Bild­ handschrift 79 C 7 aus dem Berliner Kupferstichkabinett, Berlin 2005 (Ikonographische Repertorien zur Rezeption des antiken Mythos in Europa 5). Reviews: P. Zitzlsperger, JKG 9, 2005, 330–3; C. Lord, RenQ 60, 2007, 593–4.  104.  J. M. Fox, “Picassos Ovids Metamorphosen”, in H. Förstl, E. Boehlke, M. Heu­ ser (eds.), Metamorphosen, Berlin 2006, 26–32. 105.  *J. Bocheński et al., Owidiusz. Twórczość. Recepcja. Legenda. Waźbińska 2006. 106.  *I. Stephan, Medea. Multimediale Karriere einer mythologischen Figur, KölnWeimar-Wien 2006. 107.  P. Barolsky, “Perugino’s Ovidian Apollo”, Notes in the History of Art 26.3, 2007, 40–1. 108.  G. O. Hutchinson, “The Monster and the Monologue: Polyphemus from Homer to Ovid”, in P. J. Finglass, C.  Collard, N. J. Richardson (eds.), Hesperos. Studies in Ancient Greek Poetry Presented to M. L. West on his Seventieth Birthday, Oxford-New York 2007, 22–39. 109.  *J. B. Perlman, “Venus, Myrrha, Cupid and / as Adonis: Metamorphoses 10 and the Artistry of Incest”, in A. M. Keith, S. Rupp (eds.), Metamorphosis: The changing face of Ovid in Medieval and Early modern Europe, Toronto 2007, 223–38 (Publications of the Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies; Essays and Studies 13). Reviews: A.  DiMatteo, RenQ 61, 2008, 1000–2; K.  Casebier, English Studies in Canada 34, 2008, 171–3; G.  Stanivukovic, Review of English Studies 11, 2008, 768–70; H. Power, Translation and Literature 18, 2009, 103–6; V.  Duché-Gavet, Réforme, Humanisme, Renaissance 70, 2010, 179–80; L. A. Reid, University of Toronto Quarterly 80, 2011, 273–5; L.  Cuppo, The Sixteenth Century Journal 41, 2010, 539–41; M. Possamat-Perez, MA 116, 2010, 184–5; G. Warren, Modern Philology 108, 2011, 228–31. 110.  M. E. Müller, M. Mecklenburg (eds.), Vergessene Texte – verstellte Blicke. Neue Perspektiven der Wickram-Forschung, Frankfurt a. M. 2007.

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111.  J. L. Vidal Pérez, Orpheus in musica: un mito para la ópera, Madrid 2007. 112.  A. Coroleu, B.  Taylor (eds.),  Latin and Vernacular in Renaissance Iberia. Ovid from the Middles Ages to the Baroque, Manchester 2008 (Cañada Blanch Monographs 8). 113.  M. Giuman, A.  Pasolini, “La pietra  e la morte. Alcune note iconografiche intorno al mito di Medusa tra antichità  e Rinascimento”, AFLC 26, 2008, 61–100. 114.  M. Saxer, “Aus der Geschichte gefiltert. Zur Gestalt der Andromeda in Salvatore Sciarrino Oper Perseo e Andromeda”, in M. Oster, W. Ernst, M. Gerards (eds.), Performativität und Performance. Geschlecht in Musik, Theater und MedienKunst, Hamburg 2008, 266–74. 115.  W. Segebrecht, “Da (f)liegt Ikarus. Der Ikarus-Mythos in Gedichten und Graphiken der Gegenwart”, in K. Herrmann, K. Geus (eds.), Dona sunt pulcherrima. Festschrift für Rudolf Rieks, Oberhaid 2008, 491–514. 116.  L. Sperti, “Temi ovidiani nella libreria Sansoviniana  a Venezia”, Eidola 8, 2011, 155–78. 117.  V. I. Stoichita, L’effet Pygmalion. Pour une anthropologie historique des simulacres, Genève 2006 (= Simulacros. El efecto Pigmalión: de Ovidio a Hitchcock, Madrid 2006; = The Pygmalion effect: from Ovid to Hitchcock, Chicago 2008). Reviews: D. Cast, BMCR 2009.04.20; J. Bleek, Sehepunkte 5, 2010, sine pag. 118.  *D. Gall, “Pygmalion bei Neil LaBute und Ovid”, in G. Lohse, M. Schier­ baum (eds.), Antike als Inszenierung. Drittes Bruno Snell-Symposion der Universität Hamburg am Europa-Kolleg, Berlin 2009, 293–310 (Beiträge zur Altertums­ kunde 265). Reviews: D. Donnet, AC 80, 2011, 678–9; E. Stehlíková, LF 134, 2011, 197–8. 119.  *H. Casanova-Robin, Ovide, figures de l’ hybride: illustrations littéraires et figurées de l’esthétiques ovidienne à travers les âges, Paris 2009. Review: M.-P. Marie, Revue de littérature comparée 338, 2011, 225. 120.  B. Simons, “Die Metamorphose des Narcissus bei Ovid und Benjamin Britten”, AU 52, 2009, 52–9. 121.  *M. von Albrecht, P. Ovidius Naso. Metamorphosen, Lateinisch / Deutsch. Mit 30 Radierungen von Pablo Picasso und einem kunsthistorischen Nachwort von Eckhard Leuschner, Leipzig 2010 (Reclam Bibliothek). Reviews: C. Hartz, AW 5, 2010, 89; N. Holzberg Latomus 70, 2011, 1122–4. 122.  F. Díez Platas, P. M. López Barja de Quiroga, “Cipo en las Metamorfosis de Ovidio y en su recepción posterior”, in C. Fornis Vaquero, J. Gallego, P. M. López Barja de Quiroga, M.  Valdés (eds.), Dialéctica histórica y compromiso social. Homenaje  a Domingo Plácido, Zaragoza 2010, I, 275–306. 123.  S. Ferrucci, Zur Rezeption des Europamythos in Italien. Von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, Bonn 2010 (Abhandlungen zur Sprache und Literatur 179).

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124.  I. Colpo, “Ninfe violate: il mito di Callisto nelle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in I. Favaretto, F. Ghedini, G. Gorini, I. Colpo (eds.), Tra protostoria e storia. Studi in onore di Loredana Capuis, Roma 2011, 473–84. 125.  F. Díez Platas, “A través de Ovidio: el viaje del río Aqueloo  a occidente”, in J. M. Cortés Copete, E.  Muñiz Grijalvo, R.  Gordillo Hervás (eds.), Grecia ante los Imperios. V Reunión de historiadores del mundo griego, Sevilla 2011, 377–92 (Spal Monografías 15). 126.  K. Heldmann, “Jupiter und Callisto”, in A. Heil, M. Korn, J. Sauer (eds.), Noctes Sinenses. Festschrift für Fritz-Heiner Mutschler zum 65. Geburtstag, Heidelberg 2011, 51–8 (Kalliope 11). 127.  P. James, Ovid’s Myth of Pygmalion on Screen. In Pursuit of the Perfect Woman, London-New York 2011 (Continuum Studies in Classical Reception). Review: R. Barrow, BMCR 2013.01.32. 128.  I. Colpo, F. Ghedini, G. Salvo (eds.), Metamorfosi. Miti d’amore e di vendetta nel mondo romano. Padova, Centro di Ateneo per i Musei (CAM), 29 settembre  – 1 dicembre 2012, Padova 2012. 129.  F. Díez Platas, “La ilustración de Ovidio en el s. XV y la recuperación de la imagen mitológica”, in Mª D.  Barral Rivadulla, E.  Fernández Castiñeiras, B.  Fer­ nández Rodríguez, J. M. Monterroso Montero (eds.), Mirando a Clío. El arte español espejo de su historia. Actas del XVIII Congreso del CEHA, Santiago de Compostela, 20–24 de septiembre de 2010, Santiago de Compostela 2012, 343–9. 130.  F. Díez Platas, “Una presencia excepcional de Ovidio en Mondoñedo: la edición de Parma de 1505”, Estudios mindonienses 28, 2012, 543–60. 131.  B. Ermacora, M. Welsch (eds.), Der Spiegel des Narziss. Vom mythologischen Halbgott zum Massenphänomen. The Mirror of Narcissus. From Mythological Demigod to Mass Phenomenon, Köln 2012. 132.  A. Göhler, Antikerezeption im literarischen Expressionismus, Berlin  2012 (Literaturwissenschaft 25). 133.  M. Marini, Fabulae Pictae. Miti  e storie nelle maioliche del Rinascimento, Firenze 2012. 134.  *P. Polzonetti, “Haydn and the Metamorphoses of Ovid”, in M.  Hunter, R. Will, Engaging Haydn. Culture, Context and Criticism, Cambridge 2012. Review: B. Mikusi, Notes 70, 457–60. 135.  H. Harich-Schwarzbauer, A.  Honold (eds.), Carmen perpetuum. Ovids Metamorphosen in der Weltliteratur, Basel 2013. 136.  *Mª C. García Fuentes, Mitos de las Metamorfosis de Ovidio en la iconografía del Museo del Prado, Madrid 2013. Review: V. Cristóbal, CFC(L) 34, 2014, 367–8. 137.  R. Matuszewski, “Der unsterbliche Geliebte des Zeus. Über die göttlichen Anfänge der menschlichen Liebe”, AW 4, 2013, 81–4.

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138.  E. Stachel, Johann Wilhelm Baur. Seine Illustrationsserie zu den Metamorphosen des Ovid, Diplomarbeit Universität Wien 2013. 139.  M. von Albrecht, Ovids Metamorphosen. Texte, Themen, Illustrationen, Heildelberg 2014. Reviews: S. Albert, Vox Latina 50.198, 2014, 622–3; M. Capponi, MH 72, 2015, 227–8; J.-M. Claassen, BMCR 2015.06.37; W. Lingenberg, Latomus 76, 2017, 211–13. 140.  A. Barchiesi, “Per una lettura delle Metamorfosi di Ovidio”, in F.  Citti, L.  Pasetti, D.  Pellacani (eds.), Metamorfosi tra scienza  e letteratura, Firenze 2014, 123–35. 141.  P. Barolsky, Ovid and the metamorphoses of modern art from Botticelli to Picasso, New Haven 2014. 142.  C. Clark, “The Librettist’s Dilemma in London: Badini’s and Haydn’s Orfeo ed Euridice”, in S. Lichtenstein (ed.), “Music’s Obedient Daughter”. The Opera Libretto from Source to Score, Amsterdam-New York 2014, 107–29. 143.  G. Huber-Rebenich, S. Lütkemeyer, H. Walter, Ikonographisches Repertorium zu den Metamorphosen des Ovid. Die textbegleitende Druckgraphik, Berlin 2014, I.1 (2 vols.: Narrative Darstellungen. Textteil and Narrative Darstellungen. Bildteil.) Reviews: E. Kepetzis, Sehepunkte 15.12, 2015, sine pag.; F. Meier, JKG 19, 2015, 33–9. 144.  J. F. Miller, C. E. Newlands, Handbook to the Reception of Ovid, Chichester 2014. 145.  S. Oade, “Poetry into Music: Ovid’s Metamorphoses and Ditterdorf ’s ‘Twelve Symphonies on Ovid’s Metamorphoses’”, IJCT 21, 2014, 245–72. 146.  M.-D. Popelard, “Écho et Narcisse: Métamorphoses picturales d’un mythe (Ovide, Poussin, Dali…)”, in G.  Declercq, S. Spriet (eds.), Fascination des images, images de la fascination, Paris 2014, 25–38. 147.  U. Reinhardt, Arachne und die Liebschaften der Götter. Eine Mythennovelle aus Ovids Metamorphoses mit ihrer literarischen und bildlichen Rezeption bis zur Gegenwart, Freiburg i. Br.-Berlin 2014 (Rombach Wissenschaften. Paradeigmata 22). Reviews: P.  Riemer, Gymnasium 123, 2016, 520–3; U.  Schmitzer, Gnomon 92, 2020, 316–20. 148.  H. Vial, “Hypothèses sur la présence de l’antiquité grecque et romaine dans l’oeuvre de Hayao Miyazaki”, in M.  Bost-Fievet, S. Provini (eds.),  L’antiquité dans l’ imaginaire contemporain. Fantasy, science-fiction, fantastique, Paris 2014, 509–23 (Rencontres 88). It is clear that met. has been one of the most influential works on plastic and visual arts, as well as on music, especially in the western world, hence this chapter. Although a large number of bibliographic references are included, I would go so far as to say that

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the extent of material is immeasurably vast, and the reader or researcher who carries on delving will discover more titles. The illustrated editions of met. and their drawings have been fundamental in the triumph of the Ovidian text in the arts, and in many case the starting point for the artists. For this reason, I will begin by looking at the works which address this theme. Gerlinde Huber (52) sets out the objectives, methods and functions of the research project on illustrated versions of met., from the incunables until 1800, managed by the Seminar of Classical Philology at the University of Mannheim, in collaboration with the Europa-Institut. The book by Ghislaine Amielle (48),  a revision of her dissertation (Université de Tours 1988), offers  a reading of the text and images in the 17 editions of the met. published in France between the end of 15th c. and the 16th c., carrying out “un incessant va-et-vient entre l’oeuvre écrite et l’oeuvre picturale, qui s’éclairent l’une l’autre” (11). In a subsequent work (49), she analyses the text and imagery of various editions and emblems from the 16th c. in France (e.g. Le Grand Olympe, Picta Poesis, Métamorfose figurée): the degree of faithfulness between the text and illustrations reflects the trends in thought of the time. In the work by Horn and Walter (67), the chapter by Francesca Cappelletti (229–52) is of interest: she studies the iconographic repertory of the various illustrated editions of met. (15th–17th c.) and traces its fortune, and how it is reutilised and adapted in books about emblems and frescoes of the Palazzo Farnese in Rome. Gerlinde Huber-Rebenich (55) looks at the xylographies in several editions of met. from Quattrocento and Cinquecento, but especially those from the Ovidio Metamorphoseos vulgare by Giovanni di Bonsignori (Venice 1497). She examines the various dependent relations which can be established between the illustrations and the Ovidian or vulgarised text, the structure and function of the images, and the consequences of transposing them to  a new context. This same author (92) contemplates the influence of Bonsignori’s xylographies in multiple 16th-c. editions of met. Through the analysis of the image of Peleus and Thetis (met. 11), she considers to what extent the later illustrations imitate the model or seek their own solutions and new composition models. Some years afterwards, Huber-Rebenich, Lütkemeyer and Walter published two catalogues of illustrations of met. In one of these (98) they deal with “Sammeldarstellung”, representations which contain different episodes and which are situated at the beginning of each book. They detect four artistically original series about which an analysis of dependency and contamination is provided. These series emerge from the illustrations of Giacomo Franco for the Italian translation by Giovanni Andrea dell’Anguillara (Venice 1584); from those of Salomon Savrij for the English translation by George Sandy (Oxford 1632); from the ones by Elisha Kirkall, Louis du Guernier, Michiel van der Gucht and R.  Smith (London 1717); and from those of Jacob Andras Fridlich, for the German translation by J. B. Sedlizki (Ausburg-Leipzig 1763). The other catalogue (143) is of editions, reprints and copies of met. illustrated with “narrative Bildtyp”. These are focused on three sets of images: the one of Bible des poëtes (Bruges 1484), that of Ovidio metamorphoseos vulgare (Venice 1497), and the series that Jörg Wickram made for the translation of met. by

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Albrecht von Halberstadt (Mainz 1545). The drawings from the latter two works have already been the focus of a study by Evamarie Blattner (71), who analyses them in depth (types of images, “narrative Elemente”, “Erzählraum”, “Erzählweise”, genesis, relations with Alberti’s theory of art…), compares them with contemporary illustrations, and emphasises their lasting effect on future art production. Anna Schreus, on the other hand, takes a different view in Müller and Mecklenburg’s work (110, 169–83) on the woodcuts of Jörg Wickram: she reflects on their originality and their function, and on the reasons for their limited influence on later editions and artists. She comments especially on the woodcuts of Narcissus and Echo (met. 3), and of Apollo and Coronis (met. 1). Wickram’s works are also the subject of the chapter by Wolfgang Neuber (185–97): he examines the representation of Lycaon’s story (met. 1) in relation to the preface of the edition by the priest Gerhard Lorich, and to the anthropophagic practices of Native Americans and the depictions of them. Fátima Díez Platas (130) describes the figurative apparatus of the 1505 Parma edition of met., currently conserved in the library of the Real Seminario Conciliar de Santa Catalina de Mondoñedo. Most of the illustrations come from a Venetian edition of 1479, with which they are compared (545–8). Then the distinctive elements are analysed (e.g. the figurative apparatus) of two Parma editions from 1505 (548–50), inferring that one of them is a “falsificación” and that “[e]l impreso conservado en Mondoñedo es uno de los ejemplares de la auténtica edición parmesana” (550). Karl Stahlberg (41) studies Bernhard Salomon’s woodcuts for the edition of met. by Jean de Tournes (Lyon 1557) and those of the edition by Sigmund Feyerabend (Frankfurt a. M. 1563). He deduces that the latter should be attributed to Virgil Solis (1514–1562) or to his studio. Ilja Veldman (4) analyses the design of three series of prints by Maarten van Heemskerck (1498–1574): The Four Seasons, The Seven Planets, and The Four Temperaments. She also attempts to pin down his literary or visual sources, to identify his original contributions to the themes, and to discover what influence these artworks had on other artists. In both the images of The four seasons and the accompanying verses, the influence of met. 2.27–30 (152) and of met. 15.199–213 (153) can be detected. The book by Michael Thimann (103) considers the 76 drawings of met. 1–4 contained in the ms. 79 C 7 of the Berliner Kupferstichkabinett and made by Jean Jacques Boissard. Thimann describes the ms., traces the history of this series of plates, emphasises the parallels and influences of other engravers and their illustrations, reproduces the 76 plates, and introduces a catalogue describing them. The article by Fátima Díez Platas and Monterroso Montero (72) begins with  a review of the transmission of met. from the 13th to the 16th c. (453–7). It continues with  a recap of the main translations of the 16th c., especially the Spanish ones (457–60); and then it focuses on the study of three illustrated translations of met., edited in 1589, 1594, and 1595, and stored in the Biblioteca Xeral de Santiago de Compostela (460–3). Lastly the authors reflect on the relation which exists between the front covers of these three editions and their patrons (463–72). Díez Platas continues her study of the volumes of met. preserved in the Biblioteca Xeral in another

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of her works (95). Here, she analyses the three different ways in which the Spanish translations by Jorge Bustamante (Antwerp 1595) and Sánchez de Viana (Valladolid 1589), and the Italian translation by Giovanni Andrea dell’Anguillara (Venice 1584), illustrate the Ovidian work. After that, in brief and concise terms, Díez Platas (129) considers the illustrations of met. and their classical references in various editions from the 15th and 16th c. (e.g. Bruges 1484, Venice 1497, Parma 1505). In the last part of her study, dedicated to the depiction of the underworld, she asserts: “La imagen del Hades que atraviesa el umbral del siglo XVI está en vías de recuperación y de entroncar de manera acertada con las imágenes del infierno antiguo” (348). Eva Stachel (138) examines the series of woodcuts made by Johann Wilhelm Baur between 1639 and 1641 in Vienna: sketches, iconography, landscape, architecture, representation of metamorphosis, relation between text and image, purpose of the illustrations… She compares Baur’s artworks with other such series in order to examine to what extent the artist was influenced by previous engravers (Jörg Wickram, Bernard Salomon, Virgil Solis and Antonio Tempesta) and to what extent he introduced innovations. The chapter, “Bücher als Leseeinheiten. Gesamtdarstellung mit Abbildung” (15–80), from the monograph by Michael von Albrecht (139), presents  a detailed study of the 15 engraved plates that illustrate the 15 books of met. in the edition Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Translated by the Most Eminent Hands, Adorn’ d with Sculptures (Amsterdam 1717). The objective of von Albrecht is to show that the images are a useful tool for understanding the met.: the structure of each book, the relationships between the books, and the poem in its complex entirety. The following works are focussed on more specific passages of met.: Fátima Díez Platas (125) goes over the iconography of the river god Achelous from Ancient Greece to the 18th c. Her study concentrates on the images which accompany the Ovidian tale (met. 8–9) in the editions from the 15th–18th c. The same author, along with López Barja de Quiroga (122), addresses the relation between the myth of Cipus (met. 15) and the historical, political and social context of the poet, and the way in which this myth was received and illustrated, especially in the editions of the 16th–19th c. Now I move on to the studies which discuss the reception of met. in general terms or in different artistic fields. Various chapters of the work edited by Chevallier (19) are of interest here. Bernadette Pasquier (307–22) deals with the illustrations of three editions which date, respectively, from 1598, 1607 and 1669, and which are kept in the Biblioteca Nazionale di Roma. The latter two seem to be reeditions of the first. Jean-Pierre Néraudau (323–43) explores the influence of met., and to a lesser extent of fast., on the decoration of the Château de Versailles. He states that here “Ovide a joué … un rôle proprement poétique qui a créé, pour le prince, un univers où pût se réaliser son idée monarchique” (331). In his chapter, Raymond Chevallier (387–439) reflects on the interaction between iconography and literature in Phaethon’s myth from Antiquity to the 19th c., and also on its reception in music (415). He often analyses the symbolism (personal, moral – present in met. 2 –, collective, political and philosophical) bestowed by writers and artists on this myth.

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Nigel Llewellyn (45) writes about the complex process faced by  a painter or sculptor when (s)he transcribes an incident from text into image, at the same time as emphasising the importance of met. as one of the main sources for visual art until the 18th c. To illustrate his argument, he examines paintings by Titian, Correggio, Veronese, Rubens, Poussin, Giordano, Watteau, Boucher and Gérôme, and Bernini’s Apollo and Daphne. In the final part of his chapter (162–6) Llewellyn looks at the theme of the rape of Europa, in order to show how painters are able to work in the spirit of Ovid, without necessarily always having to follow every word of his poetry. Michael von Albrecht (53) ponders superficially on the influence of met. and its illustrated editions on literature and the arts, specifically painting, sculpture and music, from the 11th c. onwards (186–91); and Emilio Pianezzola (56) devotes a comprehensive study to the reception of met. in western culture, both in literature and in art. The 18 essays edited by Walter und Horn (63) form part of an international symposium on the influence of Ovid from the Middle Ages onwards. Jürgen Blänsdorf (12–35) considers the scenes on Filarete’s Door of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, in whose iconography the influence of Berchorius, and not always of met., can be seen. The central focus of the work by Bodo Guthmüller (58–78) is Lodovico Dolce’s Tras­formationi and its illustrations by Rusconi. After this, Ghislaine Amielle (79–84) reflects on the crossing of images and text in the illustrated editions of met. in France during the 16th c. The volume continues with the chapter by Carmen Ravanelli Guidotti (85–97) on the transmission of Ovidian stories for a general audience, and the importance of the popular editions of vernacular works, the Ovidian images and their treatment on Italian majolica. Françoise Bardon (98–114), meanwhile, studies 16th-c. Venetian paintings based on Ovidian stories. After this comes Francesca Cappelletti’s analysis (115–28) of the use of met. in the Villa Farnese frescoes, especially in Baldassarre Peruzzi’s frieze. Some pages further on, we find the reading offered by Claudia Cieri Via (150–60) of Titian’s Death of Actaeon and its parallels with the Ovidian tale. Next Jan L. De Jong (161–72) explores instances in which artists, whether they knew the original Latin or a vernacular version of an Ovidian episode, chose to depart from it; in addition, he shows how some creators found ways of rendering the spirit of Ovid’s jokey humour, while eschewing any attempt at direct representation. Udo Reinhardt (193–213) offers a diachronic survey of the myth of Andromeda and Perseus from the ancient pictorial tradition until the realm of modern popular culture. Maria MoogGrünewald (225–38) considers the Benserade’s Metamorphosen en rondeaux, a study that presents the entire met. in emblems. And, lastly, in this section we must mention the chapter by Hermann Walter (239–51), which examines the case of  a statue depicting two young lovers, now lost but much admired in the late 18th c., identified as either Caunus and Byblis, Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, or Amor and Psyche. The work by Bodo Guthmüller (66) consists of 15 chapters, of which only seven are previously unpublished. As will be seen later on, several of them address the plastic arts. In “Pictura poesis ovidiana” (213–36; a revision of a study already published in German: 9, 101–15, 181–9) he discusses the reworking of met. in the emblematic tradition. In “Un curioso caso di censura d’immagini: Le illustrazioni ovidiane del

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1497” (237–50), Guthmüller explores in depth the censure meted out to Lucantonio Giunta’s illustrations of Ovidio Methamorphoseos vulgare in the decree of 21 February 1497, which fought against immoral images. Next we find the chapter “Immagine e testo nelle Trasformationi di Lodovico Dolce” (251–74), in which the distribution of the images in the work is analysed, and the discrepancies between the text and Rusconi’s illustations are explained. In “Tintoretto e Ovidio: Il problema dei testi mediatori” (275–89; already published previously: 64) the literary and iconographic sources of Tintoretto’s mythological paintings conserved in the Galleria Estense di Modena and in the Museo Civico di Padova are examined; and the divergences from met. through the vulgarisation of the Latin text are explained, especially with reference to the translation by Niccolò degli Agostini and its illustrations, the prose translation by Giovanni dei Bonsignori, and the university teachings of Giovanni del Virgilio. In “Iconografia e iconologia della Salla dei Giganti di Giulio Romano” (291–307; a revision of a previously published article: 9, 117–41, 189–200), the works of the three authors mentioned above (Agostini, Bonsignori and del Virgilio) also offer an explanation of the differences between the iconography of the frescoes of the Palazzo di Te and the Ovidian Gigantomachia (met. 1). Here Guthmüller also reflects on iconography and the religious, moral and political implications of the frescoes. Finally, in “Europa. Mito antico e continente” (309–41; already published in German: 54), the author deals with a multitude of texts and images in which the myth of Jupiter and Europa has been converted into an allegory of the European continent as a political-cultural union. Paul Barolsky (68) sets out to show how met. and, to a lesser degree, fast. “played an extensive and deep role in the ‘poetry’ of Renaissance painting and sculpture” (451), although he also offers brief glimpses into the influence of these works on Renaissance poetry and Baroque art. He concludes that “[w]hat Ovid bequeathed to the Renaissance was … a spirit of play, the very play of the imagination as it gave birth to the protean forms of art” (473). In another study from the same year, Barolsky (69) returns to many of the artworks commented on, and ideas expressed, in the article mentioned previously. This time, the commentary on the creations of Pollaiuolo, Signorelli, Botticelli, Piero di Cosimo and Michelangelo, and on the poetry of Lorenzo de’ Medici and Michelangelo, are used to show the splendour of the Ovidian themes, connotations and aesthetics in Lorenzo de’ Medici’s circle in Florence. Niklas Holzberg (77) dedicates the final pages of his article on the myth of Apollo and Daphne (met. 1) and its “Gegenstück” (331), i. e. the episode of Vertumnus and Pomona (met. 14), to the reception of the first story in Canzionere de Petrarca (327–8), in Bernini’s Apollo e Dafne (328–30), and in Rinuccini’s opera La Dafne (330–3). The starting point for the work by Gerlinde Huber-Rebenich (78) is the relation between text and image in the editions, translations, commentaries and emblems of met. Her study reveals the stability and continuity in the illustrations, as well as the moments of rupture when inspiration has been sought from genres other than engravings, or when totally new designs have emerged (Picasso’s etchings, 1931). Lastly, she compares outlines of illustrations with majolica works, reliefs and frescoes in the Sala delle Prospettive (Villa Farnese, Rome).

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The book edited by Schubert (81) contains various chapters dedicated to the reception of Ovid in art and music. Eckhard Leuschner’s chapter (1123–33) examines an etching by Johann Liss in which Cephalus is depicted unmasking himself after trying to seduce Procris with deceit. The artist does not seem to have been inspired by the text of met. 7, but by the text and image of Le transformationi by Ludovico Dolce (1568). Herman Jung (1135–52), after tracking the presence of Acis, Galatea and Polyphemus in ancient literature (esp. in met. 13), explores the influences of this myth on 18th-c. music, while Ludwig Finscher (1163–76), in his chapter, reflects on the creation, diffusion and quality of Dittersdorf ’s Twelve Symphonies on Ovid’s Metamorphoses. He defines these symphonies as “ein reizvoller Sonderfall der OvidRezeption” (1163). Fátima Díez Platas (83) selects 25 episodes from met. 1–14, accompanied by images of engravings, ceramics, reliefs, sculptures, frescoes, paintings… which illustrate them, extending from Ancient Greece to the 20 th c., although illustrations from 15th to 17 th c. editions predominate. Each story also has the Ovidian text translated into Spanish and an iconographic commentary on the depiction of the tale throughout time. Helmut Friedel (87) is the catalogue editor of the exhibition organised by Barbara Eschenburg in the Kunstbau (Städtische Galerie im Lenbachhaus) from 8 th September to 25th November 2001. The organiser, in her chapter (13–54), relates the myth of Pygmalion (met. 10) to the debate which emerged during the Renaissance about art as a mechanism for representing life, an idea which came back in surrealism (188). In the catalogue many works are commented on, with occasional allusions to Ovid or his epic (vid. pp. 192, 194, 200, 205, 252). The work edited by Freedman and Huber-Rebenich (88) consists of ten essays on the reception of myths in art and literature, especially in the Renaissance. Various chapters address the presence and influence of stories found in met. Luba Freedman (13–38) shows that Titian, when creating his Perseus and Andromeda (1554–6, Wallace Collection), had in mind the passage from met. 4 and its illustrated editions. In addition, Freedman states that the painter was also inspired by various visual representations from his immediate predecessors, as well as Ariosto’s account of Ruggiero rescuing Angelica from  a monstrous orc in the tenth canto of Orlando Furioso, and its illustrations. Moreover, she studies the nuances that Titian found in the fable (22–8), and the painter’s awareness of his patron’s and critics’ familiarity both with the arts of ancient Greece and Rome, and with those of their own times (31–4). The chapter by Amy Golahny (39–55) is focused on Rembrandt’s The Abduction of Europa (1632): the author shows that this artwork conforms to the print tradition, and alludes to an etching by Pieter van der Brocht as a possible prototype for the scene. Rembrandt’s canvas is compared to Ovid’s version in met. 2 and Arachne’s web (book 6; vid. esp. pp. 46–8). The painting is also linked to artistic and literary theory in the Netherlands, and to two other images that may have contributed to Rembrandt’s conception: the abduction of Europa in Pieter Lastman’s Sacrifice at Lystra (1617), and the representation of one of the three Maries from a Lamentation by Bassano. Gerlinde Huber-Rebenich (141–61) shows that in the illustrated editions and translations of met. at the end of the 16th and beginning of the 17 th c., “sich die

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Gattung der Textillustration durch ein hohes Maß an Kontinuität auszeichnet” (141): “genealogic” dependencies on engravings by Pieter van der Borcht and Antonio Tempesta are often detected, as well as composition types that are repeatedly copied and combined. Hermann Walter (163–82), helped by the tradition of illustrations in met., renamed two oils by Luca Giordano: Cephalus and Procris (met. 7; pp. 163–76), and Diana Killing Chione (met. 11; pp. 176–82), previously identified respectively as Diana and Actaeon and Diana Killing the Niobids. Udo Reinhardt (89) dedicates his work to how met. is received in modern art (plastic and graphic arts) and modern literature. The first chapter (8–28) is devoted especially to its reception in Picasso’s etchings (1931). In the following six chapters he addresses the presence in the arts of what he calls “sechs ‘großen’ Themen” (24): Apollo and Daphne (29–43), Europa and the bull (44–60), Narcissus and Echo (61–72), Dedalus and Icarus (73–102), Orpheus and Eurydice (103–27), and Pygmalion and Galatea (128–40). The last chapter (141–56) examines the myths of Actaeon, Niobe and Marsyas. The volume edited by Emmanuel Bury (94) contains various sections which are relevant to this chapter. Karinne Simonneau (385–96) offers an iconographic and iconological reading of  a desco da parto which she dates ca. 1415–1420 and which belonged to the Museum of Fine Arts of San Francisco since 1980. The desco depicts the Actaeon and Diana myth (met. 3), influenced by the poem of Boccaccio, Caccia di Diana, and by the bestiaries. Her study allows her to establish connections between this desco da parto and the rituals of birth. Next we find the chapter by Ghislaine Amielle (397–404), where various works which served as the seed for the artists’ inspiration are addressed. Among these is the illustrated Ovidio istorico, politico, morale by Francesco Bardi, which she defines as “un dictionnaire de mythologie, vulgarisée pour les artistes” (400). Hélène Himelfarb (445–58) reflects on the presence of Ovid in Versailles, and on the 21 paintings created by Jean II Cotelle for the Galerie de Trianon between 1688 and 1691: met. as a literary source “n’existe qu’à l’arrière-plan” (456) and is contaminated by the Baroque epic, and contemporary opera and ballet. Sylvie Ballestra-Puech (459–77) dedicates her chapter to the tale of Arachne. She begins by discussing its presence in the moral commentaries of the 15th–17th c., and in the literature of Spenser, Marino and John de Lyly (459–72). Later she examines its evolution in the plastic arts, specifically in the illustrations of the 16th and 17th-c. editions (which show the influence of moral readings), and in other works where we find a triumphant Arachne: Dialectic or Industry by Veronese, The Punishment of Arachne by Rubens, and The Fable of Arachne by Velázquez. The latter two artworks are compared with Titian’s The Rape of Europa (472–7). Jacek Bocheński et alii (105) edited lectures presented at  a conference held in Warsaw on 16–18 September 2004. The last two are relevant to this section: Marlena Puk comments on the reception of the Ovidian myth of Europa in European art, while Jerzy Miziołek reflects on the presence of the poet’s works (epist., met. and fast.) in Warsovian art in the 17th–18th c. The work edited by Hélène Casanova-Robin (119) also has various chapters related to art. Simone Viarre examines the depiction of the hybrid through the analysis of

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Narcissus illustrations in plastic arts. Karinne Simonneau-Minet studies the artistic reception of the hybrid in a 15th-c. panel; and Sabine Du Crest considers its reception in 17th-c. artworks, which herald a kitsch aesthetic. From the volume by Harich-Schwarzbauer and Honold (135), the chapter by Harm den Boer (129–47) is of interest. He explores the reception of Ovidian mythology, especially the gods, in Spanish Baroque, both in the paintings of Diego Velázquez (129–30) and in literature. Alexander Honold (165–206) starts by considering two Ovidian characters, Ariadne and Orpheus, and the poetic functions of thread and voice, claiming that “Ariadne und Orpheus erscheinen … als Textur und Klangereignis” (167). Then he looks at their reception in two works by Claudio Monteverdi, Lasciatemi morire and Orfeo; in the opera Ariadne auf Naxos by Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannsthal; and in the poetry of Angelo Poliziano (La favola di Orfeo), of Rainer Maria Rilke (Orpheus. Eurydike. Hermes; Sonette an Orpheus) and of Gottfried Benn (Orpheus’ Tod). Volker Mertens (207–25) reviews musical theatre pieces from 1600 to 1956 which are heirs to Ovid’s work. His study is focused on four topics which are of interest to musicians: the power and impotence of the singer (209–12), the power of love (212–14), “die besungene Verwandlung” (214–19), and “die gesungene Verwandlung” (219–24). In his chapter Matthias Bauer (293–318) comments on the trilogy consisting of L’avventura (1960), La notte (1961) and L’eclisse (1962) by the film director Michelangelo Antonioni, starting from Ovid’s ideas of love and metamorphosis. Bauer considers both the elegiac poetry and met.: he is conscious that the depiction of Eros in Antonioni’s movies is not the same as that which appears in Ovid, where love leads to a tragic destiny (303). Change and transformation are, however, very present in the Italian trilogy (317). Alessandro Barchiesi (140) analyses the modifications and innovations which Ovid made to the metamorphosis from the Greek tradition (123–35), and which influenced Bernini (128) for example. Lastly, the author dedicates a brief section to met.’s reception from the Middle Ages until the present day (129–30). He states that from the Renaissance the success of met. occurs at moments “in cui si impone un nuovo senso della corporeità e della materialità della vita” (129) and that its triumph in our era is related “con il rapporto tra natura e artificio … e con idee de ‘correzione’ della fisicità e della coscienza” (130). Paul Barolsky (141) explores some of the ways in which the stories in met. inspired artists (especially painters and sculptors) from the Renaissance to the present, and plumbs “the depths of the poetic imagination shared by poet and artists alike” (6). He presents his book as “an Ovidian history of art, which focuses on art as metamorphosis” (17). Tilo Stolzenhain (43) comments on some pictures inspired in met. from the Renaissance to 20th c. The book edited by Miller and Newlands (144) contains various chapters about the reception of met. in art and music. Paul Barolsky (202–16) comments on artistic works inspired by Ovid which feature some qualities of Ovidian artistry: transformation of previous versions of the myth, interweaving of various stories from met., artistic self-consciousness… Starting with artworks from the Renaissance period (Botticelli’s Primavera, Correggio’s Jupiter and Io, Michelangelo’s Captives), later he considers

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three artworks by Bernini (Apollo and Daphne, Pluto and Persephone, Medusa), two by Poussin (Pan and Syrinx, Birth of Bacchus) and another pair by Velázquez (Mercury and Argus, The Spinners). Jon Solomon (371–85) examines to what extent Ovidian poetry, especially met., has been relevant for opera librettists from Poliziano’s Favola di Orfeo,  a poetic drama performed on stage with music, up to the compositions of the 21st c. Jill Casid (416–35) presents nine instances of visual arts practice that engage the “hyphenating energies” of met. and explore “the hyphen as an animating and restructuring principle of affective, political and psychological reconnection, hybridation, and / or transformation through alterations in the matter of time …, bodies and worlds” (419). Finally, Martin Winkler (469–83) presents Ovid as a source of inspiration to filmmakers and understands the ars cinematographica as an Ovidian art (481). Isabella Colpo (124) mentions the presence of the Callisto myth in the opera by Francesco Cavalli (libretto by Giovanni Faustini, 1651) and in Renaissance and Baroque art, specifically in the stuccos of the Palazzo Grimani created by Giovanni da Udine, as well as in Titian and Rubens (473–5). She continues with a review of the myth in met. 2 (475–9) and with a quick exploration of its existence prior to Ovid: in Hesiod, on vases and in Pompeian paintings (479–81), ending with an evocative interpretation of a painting in the House of T. Dentatius Panthera (481–2). The work edited by Barbara Mundt (46) is dedicated to the myth of Jupiter and Europa (met. 2). It starts with a chapter written by the editor herself (9–28) in which she presents the story, its ancient sources and  a general overview of its survival in the plastic arts. Many of the chapters are focused on its reception within different fields and eras: in the Italian majolica of the Renaissance (T. Hausmann, 76–88); in sculpture and relief, both Renaissance and Baroque (V. Krahn, 89–107); in 16th and 17th-c. painting, especially Italian and Dutch painters (B. Mundt, 115–38); in the dinner services and table decoration of Baroque-era banquets (S. Bursche, 144–52); in the arts of late 19th and early 20th c. (1920s and 1930s), and in its use as a political allegory (M. Kampmeyer-Kädig, 187–99); in the sculpture and reliefs of the late 19th and 20th c. (U. Berger, 201–17); and in 20th-c. painters (K. Fußmann, 228–32). Josephine Hildebrand (36–51), in order to interpret the Europa story, contrasts it with artworks dating from1500 to 1800, in particular with The Toilet of Venus by Simon Vouet, and with various depictions of Nessus and Deianeira, of Venus, and of processions of marine divinities. Iris Lauterbach (153–65) discusses the reception of this myth and others, themed around the loves of the gods, in numerous artistic manifestations of 18th-c. France; and Petra Krutisch (166–80) explores the personnification of Europa as a continent and her / its iconography in the visual arts of the 16th–18th c. The focuses of study of the chapters by Franz Dreier (181–7) and Katharina Sykora (233–6) are more specific: he examines Weltallschale (1589), and she considers the installation by Ulrike Ottingers, “Europa und der Stier” (1986–1987). Annegret Friedrich (218–25) comments on various representations of the myth from the late Middle Ages, especially those of Ovide moralisé, compared with a drawing by Dürer (ca. 1495) inspired by Ovid’s verses. The illustrated editions were fundamental for the shift from literature to art: to address this, Barbara Mundt (108–14) offers a

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brief study of the Jupiter and Europa episode in these types of editions from 1497 to the 18th c. The fable of Europa is also the topic of Stefania Ferrucci’s monograph (123). Her study of the literary field takes in from Moschus’ epyllion to the 20th c., and obviously includes the version from met. 2. The section of pp. 82–115 forms an “Ikonografischer Anhang”, in which different artistic manifestations are analysed (reliefs, engravings, paintings…) covering from the 6th c. bce up to the 21st c. For comparisons with the text of met. and information about the engravings of its translations, vid. pp. 89–92 and 100–3. Christiane Kruse (79) structures her article in three parts: firstly, she examines the “Medientheorie” (“das Spiegelmedium”, “das Bildmedium”, “die Medien-Paradoxie”…) in the tale of Narcissus from met. 3 (100–3), then she offers an interpretation of this myth in the treatise De Pictura (1435) by Leon Battista Alberti (103–6). Lastly, through the study of various self-portraits of the 16th–17th c. (Parmigianino, Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror; Pseudo-Boltraffio, Narcissus; Caravaggio, Narcissus), she addresses the question of how painters understood the episode of Narcissus (106–13). The work edited by Ermacora and Welsch (131) came out of the exhibition at the Galerie im Taxispalais (Innsbruck), showing artworks from the 16th to the 21st c. which depict this same myth. This catalogue is written in two languages, German (on the left-hand page) and English (on the right). After the preface (6–9), the translation of the version from met. 3 is introduced (10–15), and next is “The Mirror of Narcissus. Mythology and Zeitgeist” (17–35) by Maren Welsch. This section contains information about various representations, interpretations, and adaptations of the Narcissus myth in illustrations of the editions (above all about the “fountain topos” and the “forest topos”), in painting, photography, installations, videos and their relation with today’s society. The work continues with  a chapter about the phenomenon of narcissism and psychoanalysis (37–51), then delves into the aforementioned catalogue, in which various authors analyse the artworks which make up the exhibition (86–163). After an excursus on the Medusa myth’s depiction in the repertoire of vases from Antiquity (63–72), Giuman and Pasolini (113) analyse the iconography of this monster and, to a lesser extent, that of Perseus, from the Renaissance to Neoclassicism. They try to emphasise the dynamics of continuity and discontinuity of this fable between antiquity and the 18th c. The works examined belong to various artistic fields: painting (fresco, canvas…), sculpture, illustrations from editions, decoration of weapons… In some cases they detect debts to met., whether to the text itself or to the illustrations which accompany it, although often the artist imbues the classical myth with allegorical, symbolic or ideological content. Udo Reinhardt (147) dedicates his book to the reception of the Arachne myth (met. 6) in literature and the figurative arts. The monograph consists of four parts. In the second (Teil B, esp. 78–91) the Landshut Stadtresidenz’s figurative programme, especially the topic of Arachne, is examined. Next, the reader finds  a digression (95–109) on the cycles of “Amori degli Dei” and “Amori di Giove” in various artists of the Cinquecento (e.g. Perino del Vaga, Correggio, Giulio Romano). The final part

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(Teil C, pp. 110–74) covers the analysis of engravings and illustrations of met. between 1497 and ca. 1800 (128–36), and every type of picture (painting, frescoes…) by artists ranging from Georg Pencz (1500–1550) to Thomas Carwitham (18th c.) (136–46). In addition, two sections are dedicated to the presence of Arachne in 19th-c. Classicism (e.g. in work by Peter von Cornelius, Gustave Doré, Nikolaos Gyzes; vid. 161–2), and in Modernity and Post-Modernity (vid. 173). The work by Inge Stephan (106) addresses the reception of the Medea myth (among the versions, Ov. met. 7 and epist. 12 are mentioned) in the 20th c.: in literature, in performances by Maria Callas (chapter 12), in the music of Krenek, Döhl and G ­ oebbels (chapter 13), in films, especially in Pasolini, Trier, Dassin and Stöckl (chapters 7 and 14), and in intercultural theatre productions (chapter 15). Prochno and Rossbacher (101) review the topic of Icarus in myth (met. 8), the painting by Pieter Bruegel, and the compositions of W. H. Auden and Wolf Biermann; furthermore, the authors claim that the rivalry between artists can be understood as a metamorphosis. Wulf Segebrecht (115) shows how the story of Icarus enjoyed independence and continuous reinterpretations in art and literature, where “Ikarus wurde zum Inbegriff des ewigen Menschheitstraumes vom Fliegen, des Traumes von der Überwindung der dem Menschen gesetzten Grenzen” (499). Segebrecht illustrates its presence in art, analysing an anonymous woodcut from ca. 1560; the cycle Ikarus und seine Geliebte by Christoph Meckel (1975); and the paintings Landschaft mit dem Sturz des Ikarus by Pieter Bruegel (1560); pp. 492–7, 512–13. The presence of, and reference to, ivory in various texts allows Annie Caubet (51) to delve into the metaphorical use of this material, into its connections to the Orient, and into its relation with the feminine world (when the ivory is carved) and with the masculine world (when it is not worked). The Ovidian fable of Pygmalion (met. 10) occupies  a noted place in this whole topic and Caubet briefly comments on its reception in the plastic arts and in music (249–50). Victor Stoichita (117), on the other hand, uses the Pygmalion myth to carry out a review of the art of “simulacre” in western aesthetics, and about the ways in which boundaries between image and reality are blurred, without ever losing sight of the contemporary scientific and philosophical trends. Chapters 3–7 are of interest to us. Chapter 3 (89–125) is focused on Bacchus by Sansovino, which is compared with both previous and subsequent artworks. Chapter 4 (127–71) is dedicated to the anthropological history of simulacra (especially to the theme of Helen of Troy’s double in Antiquity, the Middle Ages, and 17th-c. art galleries), to the topos of the image and animated sculpture in various madrigals by Battista Marino, and to the statue of Queen Hermione in Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale 5.2. Chapter 5 (173–236) presents the 18th c. as “l’époque du triomphe de la métaphore sculpturale, du motif de l’homme-statue et … de Pygmalion” (173). In order to support this assertion, the author reviews the icononography of this era in sculpture (e.g. pieces by Falconet), book illustrations and paintings (e.g. works by Jean Raoux, Sebastiano Ricci, Lagrenée, Girodet). Chapter 6 (237–66) analyses a series of photos which Louis Bonnard took of Jean-León Géròme, the work of Géròme himself, and the series by Edward Burne-Jones, Pygmalion and the Image, in relation to the Ovidian myth. Finally, chapter 7 (267–96) focuses on the film Vertigo by Hitchcock,

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which Stoichita presents as “une narration sur le thème du double et … un film sur la production des simulacres” (268). Now we look into the bibliographical references which examine the reception of met. in painting: Paul Barolsky (107) describes the statuesque pose of Apollo in Perugino’s Apollo and Musician (Louvre, Paris). The artist was inspired by some words which Ovid dedicated to the god during his competition with Pan: artificis status ipse fuit. Marina Warner (93) claims to show that tales of metamorphosis often emerge “in transitional places and at the confluence of traditions and civilizations” (18). The starting point of her introduction (1–28) is the Ovidian met., along with various images inspired by this epic. Of the four chapters, the first is of interest (29–74): Bosch’s triptych, The Garden of Earthly Delights, is interpreted in light of the reports of Indian myths gathered by Fray Ramón Pané in Account of the Antiquities of the Indians. Additionally, reminiscences of classical and Ovidian myths can be detected in both. Vid. especially pp. 59–61 and 70–71, where possible links are pointed out between met. and Bosch’s work. Ronald Granobs (86) selects various paintings from the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin which pertain to the Renaissance and Baroque periods. These are presented next to the Latin texts (largely fragments of met.) which inspired the painters, along with tasks for students, and lastly the solutions and the prose translation for the teacher’s use. Julia Perlman’s essay (109) examines how Michelangelo appears to have considered himself to be a rival of Ovid, on the basis of one of his masterly visual inventions: Venus and Cupid. Ross Kilpatrick (99) offers an Ovidian reading of two works by Dosso Dossi: Semele (catalogued as Diana and Callisto) and Althaea (catalogued as Circe or Melissa), both from the collection at the Borghese Gallery. For this Kilpatrick uses the evidence of ancient sculpture and Cinquecento engravings, and notes the allegorical and vernacular adaptations of Ovid from the Middle Ages to the Renaissance. Leonhardt and Krause (100) in the first pages (147–9) present us with a general vision of met. (structure, content, audience, interpretation of the work…). In the following section (149–56) they review the version of the Actaeon myth in met. 3 (narrative technique, language, style…). Then the authors enter the world of illustrated editions and translations from the 15th–16th c. (157–8), leading into an analysis of the mythological paintings of Titian, especially Diana and Actaeon and The Death of Actaeon (158–64). From all this, they deduce that “Tizian hatte Ovids Text nicht im lateinischen Original gelesen, er mußte sich auf italienische Bearbeitungen beschränken” (164). Leonard Barkan (1) offers a broad study of the Actaeon and Diana myth, which encompasses from the testimonies of the Greek vases (6th–5th c. bce) and Greek and Latin literature, up to the Middle Ages and Renaissance. His work is organised into eight sections. In the seventh (345–9), he comments on two paintings by Titian: Diana Surprised by Actaeon and The Punishment of Actaeon. In the former, Barkan points out the influence of Ovid on Titian’s version: the painter takes his setting directly from Ovid, and in the two artists “the union of art and nature is important

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in establishing the uniqueness of the experience” (346). According to the author, Diana Surprised by Actaeon maintains links with Titian’s other two works: Sacred and Profane and Diana and Callisto. In the final section (349–59), Barkan makes brief references to Parmigianino’s frescoes at the Rocca Sanvitale (Fontanellato) and to the works titled Diana and Actaeon created by Jean Mignon and by Veronese. Mogens Nykjær (59) identifies three scenes from the frieze of the Sala delle Prospettive in the Villa Farnese: Iride nella grotta del Dio del sonno, Aurora con la stella del mattino e Cefalo e Procris, and the Carro del Sole. He thereby contradicts the researchers who for years had identified the first scene as Selene ed Endimione. In essential terms, the illustrations are faithful to their tale in met., which “possono essere definite … la fonte … di una pittura essenziale della villa” (217). Nykjær points out the consistency between these three scenes and their coherence within the context of the Salla delle Prospettive. Paul Barolsky (58) examines two paintings by Correggio: Jupiter and Io and Leda and the Swan, and shows their artistic wit and their playfulness. These paintings evoke, respectively, two other stories from met.: Jupiter and Danae, and Diana and Actaeon. In this way, Correggio metamorphosises one Ovidian myth into another. Joyce Plesters (38) offers  a technical examination of the four works attributed to, or associated with, Tintoretto: Jupiter and Semele (24–9), Portrait of a Cardinal (29–31), The Miracle of St. Mark (31–2), and Portrait of a Lady (32–3). Here the first is of interest, and is compared with others by the same author: Latona Changing the Lycian Peasants into Frogs, and Apollo and Diana Killing the Children of Niobe, whose subjects also come from met. (25, 28). Terisio Pignatti (12) identifies and dates various spalliere by Paolo Veronese, inspired by Ovid’s mythological subject. He focuses especially on the artwork Cephalus and Procris, which follows the version in met. 7 (481). Sylvie Béguin (6), after introducing the 16th-c. artist Michel Rochetel, comments on his drawing Ceres on her Chariot, Proserpina and Pluto Below, which allows her to identify an unpublished image, conserved in the Morgan Library and Museum (previously called Pierpont Morgan’s Library) of New York, as a work by the same painter. The artwork is Ceres and Cyane, a subject from met. 5. The two drawings are part of a series illustrating the legend of Ceres. Clare Robertson (21) reflects on the sources and methods used by Annibal Caro to devise, during the 1560s, the iconographic programmes for the Villa Farnese (especially the Camera dell’Aurora) at Caprarola, and for the Castello Orsini (especially the Gigantomachy) at Bomarzo. Among her sources are mythographic handbooks (Cartari, Imagini degli dei; Giraldi, De deis gentium; Boccaccio, Genealogia degli Dei; Cartari, Il Flavio), and commentaries on, and translations of, classical texts, although Robertson considers that Caro’s knowledge of ancient literature should not be underestimated. For the possible influences of classical literature on Caro, vid. especially p. 166; for the Ovidian influences, vid. 163–4, 167 and appendix 175, 179–80. Rick Scorza (39) identifies a drawing as a work of Johannes Stradanus and as a modello for the central tondo of the vault in the Sala di Penelope (Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, 1561–1562). He justifies this claim by assessing previous identifications and

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interpretations, and pointing out the similarities and differences between the modello and the final picture. The visual image, featuring the myth of Penelope, had been previously identified as the metamorphosis of Arachne, and had been assigned, among others, to Sustris, the artist of a work titled Arachne (vid. 433 and n. 6). Heinz Hofmann (76) examines the presence of Odysseus and his adventures from Homer to James Joyce. In this review, Hofmann analyses the Greek hero’s portrayal in literature, philosophy, Christianity and music (16th–20th c.). He comments on scenes protagonised by Odysseus, and characters related to him, in artistic works from Antiquity to 16th–20th-c. painting. In The Blinding of Polyphemus by Pellegrino Tibaldi (1554/6, fresco, Palazzo Poggi, Bologna), Hofmann perceives the influence of met. 13.784 (45). Jan Van Tatenhove (31) examines a photograph from Max Friedländer’s archives of a drawing by Maarten de Vos. The subject is the mountain nymph sent by Ceres to command Hunger to punish Erysichthon. The comparison which the author makes with the Ovidian tale (met. 8), and with other illustrations, causes him to believe that this episode – the meeting between the mountain nymph and Hunger – attracted attention as a separate subject only in the Netherlands. Thomas Puttfarken (2) addresses the transformation of the Golden Age myth during the 16th c. To do this, he comments on how this fable was used (as allegory, political propaganda, imagery, eulogy…) by the Medici and by Vincenzo Borghini, in his programme for a painting of the Golden Age executed by Il Poppi (130–3). Then the author analyses the depictions of the Golden, Silver and Iron Ages of Man by Jacopo Zucchi, his classical and biblical sources, and the similarities with his contemporaries (133–46). For the possible concomitances and differences with the version of met. 1, vid. pp. 134–5, 137–8, 140, 142–3. In a subsequent article, Thomas Puttfarken (20) begins by reflecting on the relationship between Agostino Carracci’s Il Riciproco Amore and Matisse’s Bonheur de Vivre; and he shows that “the title given to Carracci’s print is misleading, and that Matisse, in drawing his inspiration from it, intuitively grasped its correct meaning” (203). Then he examines the cycle of four allegories of love by Carracci, who had used as his model Ovid’s account of the Four Ages and the gradual decline of human virtue (esp. 207–8). Linda Hults (35) enlightens us about the possible interpretations of Baldung’s The Bewitched Groom (1544). In her article, she alludes to, among other works, Taddeo Zuccaro’s The House of Sleep (1560s), which illustrates the passage from met. 11.  Angela Delaforce (14) delves into the life of Antonio Pérez, Secretary of State to Philip II, by analysing the inventory of his private art collection. Delaforce offers a vision of La Casilla (Perez’s country house, where part of the collection was displayed), of his artistic tastes, of his personal relations, and of his problems with the Inquisition. Among his collection were some works featuring scenes from met. (742, 748). Keith Andrews (5) traces the history of the painting by Adam Elsheimer, Latona and the Lycian Peasants. The content of the artwork corresponds with the tale in met. 6.358–65 (353). The article by Elisabeth McGrath (28) is dedicated to a drawing by Rubens, Alci­ biades Interrupting the Symposium. In her study, McGrath alludes to other artworks,

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including a painting by Rubens and F. Snyders, Pythagoras Advocating Vegetarianism, “inspired by the episode of the philosopher’s conversion of Numa in the Metamorphoses (XV, 60 ff., esp. 96–103)” (231 n. 19). Colpo, Ghedini and Salvo (128) published the catalogue of the exhibition Metamorfosi. Miti d’amore e di vendetta nel mondo romano, whose objective was to bring to the wider public’s attention the iconographic repertoire generated by met. from Antiquity to the Renaissance. The chapter by Colpo and Simeoni (137–43) is of interest here. In these pages they examine the frescoes of the Palazzetto Capodivacca (late 16th to early 17th c.), currently exhibited in the Palazzo del Bo. Three of the 16 lunettes are conserved, depicting Deucalion and Pyrrha; the Ovidian tale’s influence (met. 1) can be noted in them. For a description, see p. 181. Rosa López Torrijos (42) is the author of an extensive work on 17th-c. Spanish mythological painting. The first chapter (27–54) is dedicated to literary sources (she highlights the importance of the text of met. and its illustrated editions), and to engravings. Next she offers information on the creators of the iconographic programmes (55–67), on the clients of the paintings (69–87), and on the artists themselves (89–96). Then she carries out an in-depth commentary on an extraordinary amount of paintings with the following mythological themes: the assembly of the gods (99–113), the labours of Hercules (115–85), the Trojan cycle, the adventures of Perseus and other heroes (187–250), the most important gods (251–349), the less important gods (351–79), and the mortal characters (381–402), resorting on infinite occasions to comparisons with met. Her book is the revision of her doctoral thesis (17), whose ideas were also briefly outlined in another of her works (18). Richard Verdi (23) studies seven artworks created by Poussin in 1648–1651, in which the theme of the tricks of Fortune is explored. Some of the paintings feature stories from met., and their landscapes also reflect the atmosphere described by Ovid (683). For the author, this series of “sept autres histoires” is comparable to the series of the Seven Sacraments: “the Sacraments were intended to outline the pathway … which might render mankind immune to the tricks of Fortune” and “the ensuing series of landscapes may be seen as outlining the consequences of not following such a path” (684). Oskar Bätschmann (44) examines Poussin’s Stormy Landscape with Pyramus and Thisbe, inspired by the Ovidian fable (met. 4). He analyses the painting in relation to the work by Theóphile de Viau, Les Amours Tragiques de Pyrame et Thisbé; to the debate about limits of painting and poetry; and to more paintings by Poussin and other artists (e.g. Guercino’s Venus and Adonis). Bätschmann perceives in Poussin’s work the presence of the god Bacchus, and of Fortune. Reinhard Brandt (50) detects in the same canvas the essential characteristics of the tale narrated by Ovid (vid. esp. 246), and offers  a full analysis of this canvas, addressing its politico-social dimension and Poussin’s Stoic beliefs. Ulrich Schmitzer (57) also dedicates the final pages of his article (539–44) to this work of art. He affirms that “[a]lso wird Poussins primäres Motiv, den See in das Bild aufzunehmen, auf genauer Ovid-Lektüre und der aemulatio des Malers mit dem Dichter beruhen” (542). At the same time, Schmitzer recognises in this landscape the influence of Plin. epist. 8.8.4 f.

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Paul Barolsky (70) comments on two works by Poussin: Realm of Flora and Birth of Bacchus, “which reflect the Stoic significance the painter found in Metamorphoses” (5). By combining myths of death with myths of birth, Poussin offers “the counterbalancing of death and birth, which are part of the larger harmony of nature” (7). The book edited by Coroleu and Taylor (112) presents the papers read at a conference held at Lenton Hall in the University of Nottingham on 19–20 April 2007. Two of these papers enlighten us about the reception of met. in Velázquez’s oeuvre. Stephen Boyd (1–16) presents information about the dating, dimensions, possible sources and various interpretations of the Fábula de Aracne, as well as a full description of this artwork. Boyd examines the relationship between the Ovidian fable and Velázquez’s painting, pointing out how Ovid inspires the painter and how Velázquez evokes the poet’s words. Oliver Noble-Wood (147–62), meanwhile, studies La fragua de Vulcano. He reexamines the classical literary sources for the myth of Vulcan, Venus and Mars: Hom. Od. 266–369; Ov. ars 2.561–92, met. 4.169–89; and includes, as other possible sources, vernacular translations: Pérez de Moya’s Philosofía secreta (1585), and Juan de la Cueva’s Los amores de Marte y Venus (1604). Finally, Noble-Wood introduces a discussion of a number of the painting’s most important features, and establishes links between La Fragua de Vulcano and La Túnica de José, another work by Velázquez. These two paintings are also compared with others by the same artist. All this leads him to conclude that Velázquez treats the subject of La Fragua de Vulcano in a novel way, and that he acts with considerable liberty. Ivan Gaskell (15) reviews the biography and work of Gerrit Dou. In the painter’s Self-portrait (Gemäldegalerie, Dresden), Gaskell detects allusions to passages from met. 10–11: to Orpheus charming nature, and to his own fate (17). Ingamells and Laing (36) examine the painting Mercury Stealing the Flocks of Admetus from Apollo (1660, Wallace Collection) and confirm that it has suffered alterations, possibly during the 17th c. While they describe the scene, they affirm that the version in met. 2.676–86 “omits much of the background to the tale”, which may be discovered in other classic sources (758 n. 2). The iconographic repertory by Diane de Selliers (96) provides the reader with 360 artworks by 184 painters inspired by met., covering from the 17th to the early 18th c. Thus she goes through the fables of the 15 books of met., and accompanies each of the paintings with the prose translation by G. Lafaye. Michael Levey (16) reflects on the interpretation of a painting by Boucher conserved in the Fine Arts Museum of Nancy. Its subject had been identified as Venus and Adonis (1733), a pendant to Venus Begging Arms from Vulcan (Louvre Museum, 1732). Comparing it with the latter painting, and with the version of the Venus and Adonis story in met., he infers that Venus is not the god depicted. Therefore, he favours the alternative title, already existing in the 19th c., of Aurora and Cephalus. Then he contrasts the scene with the fable protagonised by Cephalus, Procris and Aurora in met. 7, which he maintains was well-known by Boucher due to the multiple editions and translations published in France at that time (445–6). Sibylle Badstübner-Gröger (74) studies the iconography of the interior and exterior decoration of various buildings which Frederick the Great adorned with cycles

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inspired by Ovidian poetry, especially by met.: the Opernhaus Unter den Linden, the Spiegelsaal or Musiksaal in the Reinsberg Castle, and the Neue Palais and the Neue Kammern (esp. the Ovid-Galerie)  in Potsdam. The scenes from met. adapt to the themes of the rooms and convey allegorical and symbolic meaning: they glorify the ruler and his peaceful reign. Konrad Heldmann (126) reviews the myth of Callisto and Jupiter (met. 2). Then, through the work Jupiter in Gestalt der Diana verführt Callisto by Johann Heinrich Tischbein d. Ä (Kassel, Neue Galerie, 1756), in which the rape scene has been transformed into  a seduction, he gives examples of the adaptation which painters made of this tale. Rafal Matuszewski (137) explores the myth of Ganymedes in ancient literature (especially Hom. Il., h. Hom. Ven., Corpus Theognideum, Verg. Aen., Ov. met. 10) and in the artistic world, both in Antiquity (e.g. a clay sculpture, Archaeological Museum of Olympia, ca. 470 bce)  and in  a fresco by Anton Raphael Meng and Giovanni Casanova (Galleria Nazionale de Roma, ca. 1758). Lastly, he relates the Ganymedes myth with the rites of passage existing in Greek culture. In her dissertation, Jane Keen (26) evaluates the influence of two Ovidian myths, Perseus (met. 4–5) and Pygmalion (met. 10), in the pictures by Edward Burne-Jones and in the poem The Doom of King Acrisius by William Morris. Especially relevant for our chapter is the section where she compares the three versions of the Perseus story (85–103): she points out the borrowing of details and scenes from Ovid by Burne-Jones, and the affinities of style, as well as elusiveness and ambiguity. She carries out a similar analysis of the two Pygmalion series by Burne-Jones (129–45), in which she maintains that the painter had full knowledge of the Ovidian tale. Udo Reinhardt (85) considers the reception of various episodes of Hom. Od. (28–48) and six subjects of met. (Daphne, Europa, Narcissus, Icarus, Orpheus-­ Eurydice, and Pygmalion; 48–69) in 20th-c. painting, certain of their usefulness when studying these texts with students. The chapter by Marie-Dominique Popelard (146) focuses on the fascination present in the story of Narcissus, and the allure which painters from very different eras felt for this fable: Dalí, Métamorphose de Narcisse; Carpioni, Liriopé présentant Narcisse à Tirésias; Écho et Narcisse, House of Castor and Pollux, Pompeii; Waterhouse, Écho et Narcisse; Caravaggio, Narcisse; Poussin, Écho et Narcisse; Lépicié, Narcisse changé en fleur de ce nom. As  a result of the view expressed by Leon Battista Alberti (On Painting, 2.61) that the Narcissus of met. 3 was said to be the first painter, Paul Barolsky (60) traces similarities between this fable and those of Daphne, Syrinx (met. 1) and Pygmalion (met. 10): according to Barolsky, they are also related to art. He states that “Ovid’s story of Narcissus is metamorphosed into the tale of Pygmalion”, and analyses variations of each episode in the story of Apelles and Campaspe by Pliny; in Vasari’s fables concerning Michelangelo, Donatello and Bugiardini; and in two works by Picasso, The Woman-Flower and Bull’s Head. The article by J. K. Newman (97) is also focused on this Spanish painter. Here the illustrations of Ovid’s Metamorphoses by Picasso (ed. Albert Skira, Lausanne 1931) are examined, and the affinities, reactions and mod-

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ifications of the Roman text are explained. Newman does not miss the opportunity to establish parallels between the life of the Sulmonan poet and the painter, in which he detects influences imposed by ancient literary tradition (e.g. Virgil, Propertius). Johannes Fox (104) reflects on these same etchings, and the stylistic devices which Picasso employed when illustrating met. The review offered by Roland Penrose (11) of Picasso’s life and works includes a brief section, “Le chef d’œuvre inconnu and Ovid’s Metamorphoses” (263–4), where he comments on the drawings and the etchings of Picasso published by Ambroise Vollard in 1931 and the etchings published by Skira (vid. supra). About the latter, it is said that the “perfection of line in the drawing … continues in the same classical manner throughout” (264). The work by Lisa Florman (91) examines Picasso’s illustrations from the 1930s: the artworks for met., the classically-themed Vollard Suite, and The Minotauromachy. She emphasises the drawings, but she cites authorities on classical literature to back up certain readings, and a few specific Ovidian passages also receive extended treatment. The edition by Michael von Albrecht (121) is illustrated by 30 Picasso etchings and has a short epilogue about met. in art history, written by Eckhard Leuschner (1065–75). Milly Heyd (33) shows how Dalí in Metamorphosis of Narcissus (both the poem and the picture) diverges from met. 3, and from the traditional pictorial treatment of the theme, due to the introduction of alchemy symbols (the egg, the hermaphrodite) and biographical elements (his brother’s death and his own cure through Gala), as well as the influence of psychoanalysis. The article by Beate Czapla (62) also analyses this work by Dalí and compares it with the Ovidian tale, offering a full study of structure, themes, motives and possible interpretations. The main theme of Czapla’s study is the metamorphosis of Narcissus into a flower, compared with that of other characters in met.: Clytie, Adonis, Hyacinthus and Aiax. The author asserts that the transformation of the protagonist occurs in two stages: extinction of the person and appearance of the flower; he finds their confirmation in Dalí’s image and poem. Mª. Cruz García Fuentes (136) examines the episodes of met. book by book, in order to report on its survival in the Museo del Prado’s pictorial collection. Considerably less has been written about the presence of met. in sculpture and relief. John Hunt (25) informs about the reactions of English visitors in the 17th c. on contemplating the gardens of numerous Italian villas. In their imagery there are many of the dramatis personae from Ovid’s poetry, and often an association can be perceived between this imagery and the changeful element of water. George Hersey (7) describes the gardens of Caserta. His main contribution is to analyse the poetic meaning of the garden’s central axis, with its canal and sculptural groups: Diana and Actaeon (15–19), Venus and Adonis (19–24), Ceres (24–6), and Juno and Aeolus (26–31). In the first three sculptural groups, the artists were inspired by met. (vid. esp. 18–19, 23, 25). Luigi Sperti (116) inspects the figurative programme on the portico of the ground floor of the Libreria Sansoviniana (Venice), which depicts “una sorta di storia del cosmos e dell’umanità … basata principalmente sulle Metamorfosi” (155) and which allows a reading in ideological code. Each arch is dedicated to a pagan god: Jupiter,

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Venus, Mercury, Minerva and Neptune; in the first two cases, a stronger influence of the Ovidian fables is perceived. In the other reliefs, the designer was inspired by tales of Verg. georg., Ov. fast., Paus. or even combines various sources. In iconography, on the other hand, he is influenced by illustrations from largely contemporary manuscripts and editions. Lastly, Sperti reveals the coherence between the figurative programme in the library and that of the Palazzo Ducale. Another artistic representation which is inspired by met. is a set of 17th-c. tapestries examined by Wendy Hefford (24). H. C. Marillier considers their origin to be English, but Hefford rebuts this suspicion and identifies them as Flemish, later copied in England. Theodoor Lunsingh Scheurleer (37) inspects  a fine cabinet acquired for the Victoria and Albert Museum. Starting from a study of the artistic context in which the piece was created, of 17th-c. fashions, and of different documents from the era (including letters and inventories of Cardinal Mazarin’s possessions, where a cabinet with scenes from met. is described, p. 333), Lunsingh identifies this cabinet as a work of Pierre Gole, who would have created it for Philippe d’Orleans. The author also describes the Mentmore table and assigns it to the same creator. Elka Schrijver (3) comments on the exhibition of Dutch silver, composed of pieces made in 1580–1830, which now is displayed at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam; and assesses and describes its paperback catalogue. Among the pieces mentioned are Paulus van Vianen’s masterpieces:  a ewer and  a basin decorated with scenes from met. (146). The book by Marino Marini (133) is dedicated to another minor art, Renaissance majolica. In two of the chapters, the references to met. assume relative importance. Carmen Ravanelli Guidotti (35–64) reviews the technico-chromatic and stylistic characteristics, and the sacred and pagan sources of many works from the end of the Quattrocento to the Seicento. For allusions to met. and to its illustrated editions, vid. pp. 43, 52–4, 59, 60. Meanwhile, Ilaria Andreoli (110–25) analyses the evolution of xylography designs in the illustrated editions and translations of met. from that by Lucantonio Giunta (Venice 1497) to Antonio Tempesta’s (Antwerp 1606), and of its diffusion in majolica. The work contains a catalogue (166–281) of the pieces which formed part of the exhibition of majolica held in 2012 at the Museo Nazionale del Bargello. Many of the scenes are inspired by episodes from met., or by its illustations: vid. pp. 166, 168, 170, 172, 174, 180, 192, 194, 198–200, 204–6, 208, 214, 218, 220, 224. Now we look at another world where the influence of met. is highly relevant: music. Frederick Sternfeld (47) examines the presence of the topic of Orpheus in operas from the 15th to 18th c. In this study, the author recalls various ancient versions of the myth; he considers the reasons behind the importance of the Ovidian tale for opera, and the elements which Renaissance imitators borrow from the Latin poet: plots, topics, topoi, rhetorical devices, misogyny … He also points out the importance of the allegorical treatment of Ovid, and of Neoplatonic traditions, in musical adaptations; the last pages (193–9) are exclusively dedicated to the operas of Monteverdi.

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The article by Iain Fenlon (32) focuses on the first performance of Monteverdi’s Orfeo, and on the explanations for modifications made for the third one. By reading the correspondence between Ferdinando and Francesco Gonzaga, the author offers information about the castrato, rehearsal technique, the audience, and the locations of the performances. Initially the libretto, written by Striggio, followed “the tragic ending to the Orpheus story as recounted in Ovid’s Metamorphoses”; later it was substituted by one based on the Astronomica of Hyginus (165). Murray Krieger (27) looks at the common version of the Orpheus and Eurydice story, together with the transformed tale in Gluck’s opera and Calzabigi’s libretto. This opera is inspired more by Monteverdi and his successors than by Verg. georg. 4.451–558 and Ov. met. 11.1–84 (vid. n. 1). Jeffrey Buller (61) also considers various operas inspired by the Orpheus myth, in which the tragic ending of the versions by Virgil (georg. 4) and Ovid (met. 10–11) have been changed into a happy denouement. The examination of Poliziano’s Orfeo (1480), Jacopo Peri’s Euridice (1600), Claudio Monteverdi’s La favola di Orfeo (1607), Luigi Rossi’s Orfeo (1647), and C. W. Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice (1762) explains why Baroque composers changed the ending of this tale, helping to clarify the relationship between Baroque opera and Italian pastoral poetry. Additionally, such an analysis provides insight into the Baroque approach to the classical tradition as  a whole. Patricia Howard’s book (8) is dedicated specifically to Orfeo by C. W. von Gluck. For this section, the chapter by Eve Barsham (1–9) is relevant: she highlights the interest shown by 15th to 18th-c. opera in the story of Orpheus and Eurydice (Verg. georg. 4, Ov. met. 10–11), from the pastorale by Angelo Poliziano, Orfeo, musicalised by Germi (1472) and by Pietro della Viola (1486), up to Orfeo by C. W. von Gluck and Calzabigi (1762). On p. 66 she also includes a brief reference to the parallels between the ending of Haydn’s opera, L’anima del filosofo o sia Orfeo e Euridice, and that of Orpheus in met. Similar to Barsham’s study is the work by José L. Vidal Pérez (111), which traces the evolution of the presence of the Orpheus tale in music, from Orfeo by Angelo Poliziano to C. W. von Gluck’s opera. In his chronological review, Vidal also analyses L’Euridice de Ottavio Rinucci (musicalised by Peri and by Caccini, and performed in 1600 y 1602 respectively), and above all Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo (1607) and its innovations with respect to the previous works. Hartmut Kugler (10) edits for the first time the work by Ambrosius Metzger, Metamorphosis Ovidij in Meisterthöne grebracht. The introduction consists of four chapters: the first focuses on the mss. (9–78); the second, on demarcating the text and on explaining other elements like titles, tones … (79–95); the third deals with the transmission of text (96–129); and the fourth, with the editorial process (130–62). Here, Kugler talks about the sources (especially 155–62), which are mainly the editions of met. by Wickram (Frankfurt 1581) and by Spreng (Frankfurt 1564), Ovid’s Latin text, the fabulae of Lactantius Placidus, and the illustrations of Virgil Solis. He alludes to all of them systematically in the critical apparatus. Philip Ambrose (13) presents two classical influences on the BWV 12 by Salomo Franck: met. 2.54–6 and 10.202–18. Gregory Hutchinson (108) examines the reception of the Homeric Polyphemus in

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Greek and Latin literature, in Roman art, and in Händel’s masque Acis and Galatea (first version, 1718), which reworks the monologue by Ovid (met. 13) and introduces the trio of Acis, Galatea and Polyphemus (36–9). The object of Jon Solomon’s (22) study is the libretto Semele written by William Congreve, adapted by Newburgh Hamilton and transformed into an opera by Händel. He comments on its mythological sources (the fable of Semele in met. 3, the episode of Somnus in met. 11, passages from Hom. Il. 14 and Verg. Aen. 1), and the method used by Congreve, who merges, rearranges and reworks the classical texts and motifs. He finishes with an explanation of the mirror passage. In a subsequent work, Solomon (30) reflects on Händel’s masque Acis and Galatea, whose Polyphemus “is the well-honed product of Ovid’s, Dryden’s and Gay’s craftsmanship, to which Händel added his own musical intuition” (39). Solomon finds the explanation for Händel’s use of an obbligato flauto in ‘O ruddier than the cherry’ in Dryden’s translation and adaptation of met. 13.782–4. The publication of these two articles by Solomon provoked unease in Anthony Hicks (34), who criticises the observations contained therein. Solomon (40) responded to Hicks’ words, defending his own methodology. Pierpaolo Polzonetti (134) offers a fresh interpretation of Haydn’s notion of sonata form: the composer combines separate movements and smaller units into larger forms, ensuring their coherence, in the same way as Ovid weaves separate stories into a single line in met. Caryl Clark (142) studies Badini’s libretto for Haydn’s opera, L’anima del filosofo, ossia Orfeo ed Euridice, “a highly unusual and convoluted version of the Orpheus myth” (112), where mythology, Christian allegory, philosophy and debts to other librettists are intermingled. Badini follows the antique myth (the version of met. more than that of Verg. georg. 4), but introduces numerous alterations to achieve a completely different ending. Walter Rex (29) considers a little-known 18th-c. French opera: Deucalion et Pyrrha (libretto by Poullain de Saint-Foix, music by Giraud and Berton). At certain points he compares it to the theatrical work Arlequin-Deucalion by Alexis Piron, since both are inspired by the story of Deucalion and Pyrrha in met. 1 (392 n. 6). Stephanie Oade (145) analyses Dittersdorf ’s Twelve Symphonies on Ovid’s Metamorphoses (1786) in conjunction with Ovid’s text. She introduces instrumental music into critical reception study and suggests a methodology for future analyses. The author shows how the composer imitates some features of Ovid’s poetry, and how at certain points he reinterprets, adapts or moves away from Ovid in order to contemporise his music, marked by specific historical and cultural concerns. The aim of Donald Poduska (80) is to create “a bibliographical resource for those teachers who wish to add a music component to their courses in classical mythology” (195), which complements other works already published. After mentioning the titles of the musical works, which extend to the 20th c., he alludes frequently to the classical works on which they are based (e.g. to a specific book of met.; vid. pp. 231 The Lycian Peasant Changed to Frogs; 235 Écho et Narcisse; 236 Narcissus; 257 The Tears of Niobe; 257 Die Rettung der Andromeda durch Perseus; 257 Phineus; 259 Der Sturz Phaethons,

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Philomel, The Singing Contest between the Pierides and the Muses; 263 Il Pigmalione, My Fair Lady, Pirame et Tisbé; 264 Piramo e Tisbe; 265 Semele). Michael Hotz’s article (65) deals with the reception of the Daphne myth (met. 1) in the libretto by Joseph Gregor and in Richard Strauss’ opera Daphne (1938). He pre­ sents an interpretation and a linguistic and stylistic analysis of Ovid’s text (148–52), in order to then compare the plot of the opera (152–5) and to comment on Strauss’ musical design (155–9). In the joint analysis of the classical text and of the music, Hotz finds an ideal opportunity to address the needs of the students’ curriculum. Werner Schubert (102) presents  a critical evaluation of this same opera. He starts by considering some operas related to Daphne, and the possible sources used by the librettist, stating that “[d]as Libretto der Daphne entstand … nicht auf der Grundlage der ovidischen Sagenfassung” (413). Next he examines the correspondence between Strauss and Gregor, as well as the work’s literary, lingustic and musical technique. Marion Saxer (114) traces the evolution of the Perseus and Andromeda myth, and especially of the female character, from Ovid (met. 4), via Jules Laforgue and his Moralités légendaires, to Sciarrino’s opera, Perseo e Andromeda (1991). Beck and Simons (82) discuss the influence of Ovid, the “Poet und Psychologe” (533), on an excerpt of the work by Benjamin Britten Six Metamorphoses after Ovid (1952), that protagonised by Narcissus. They review the story in met. 3 (535–42) and the adaptation by Britten (543–7), and lastly they note the parallels between them (547–8). Subsequently Benedikt Simons (120) informs about his experiences of studying the Narcissus fable, and its adaptation in Britten’s work mentioned above, with students in Sekundarstufe I. The analysis of the Ovidian text and of Britten’s creation reveals the main motive in both authors: the reflection (“das Motiv der Spiegelung”), whose presence the students immediately notice. Don Fowler (84), in the chapter “Pyramus, Thisbe, King Kong: Ovid and the Presence of Poetry” (156–67), considers the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe (met. 4) within its narrative context: the stories of the Minyeides. He alludes to its implications of gender and sexuality, and deems it to be the intertext of The Second Mrs Kong, the opera by H. Birtwhistle (164–7). Antje Göhler (132) examines the relation maintained between expressionism, especially literary expressionism, and classical myth. Section 4.2 (162–6) is dedicated to the tale of Marsyas in Pl. Smp. and in Ov. met. 6, along with the story of Apollo and Pan in met. 11, and their reception in early 20th-c. music. Álvarez and Iglesias (73), in their chapter on Philemon and Baucis, comment briefly on the survival in music of this legend from met. 8 (133). Lastly, we look at studies which relate met. to the cinema: Pierre-Jacques Dehon (75) traces the parallels between the modes of artistic expression in ancient epic (Hom. Il., Enn., Verg. Aen., Ov. met. 7.523–613, 12.210–535), the Senecan tragedies, and splatter movies. He focuses especially on “distanciation” and considers the classical authors to be the “véritables précurseurs” of gore (244). Claudia Distelrath (90) compares the story of Pyramus and Thisbe (met. 4) with the film William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, directed by Baz Luhrmann. Her aim

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is to offer the necessary guidelines to explore this theme with students of Jahrgangsstufe 11.  Dorothee Gall (118) establishes links between the Pygmalion myth (met. 10) and the theatrical work by Neil LaBute, The Shape of Things (2001); subsequently, in 2003,  a film of the same name was also made. Paula James (127), meanwhile, puts this myth and the Propoetides tale in direct dialogue with films and television series in order to “demonstrate that the visualization of Ovid’s Pygmalion story on screen … has the potential to reveal significant strands in Ovid’s version” (32). In her selection of movies, other mythical figures, tropes and themes that appear in met. can be seen. Hélène Vial (148) attempts to establish to what extent Ancient Greece and Rome are present in the filmography of H. Miyazaki. She examines the plot and characters of this director’s ten films and detects similiarities between the rules which govern the world invented by Miyazaki and that of Ovid (516); characters who recall those of met. (vid. 512–14, 519–21); proper names used by Ovid (517); and scenes which bring to mind others from his epic (522).

X. Closing Remarks Since its ‘Renaissance’, and particularly from the late 1970s onwards, Ovidian scholarship has been both solid and unrelenting. The mere length of this two-volume survey surely reflects the gigantic proportions to which it now amounts (and, to our joy, nothing suggests that this situation is going to change any time soon.) As a primary consequence, certain long-prevailing notions of Ovid as a shallow and over-explicit poet are now regarded as old-fashioned and have been completely banished. On the other hand, Ovid has attracted academics of a widely varying range of interests, and these multiple different perspectives, ‘traditional’ and ‘modern’ alike, have accordingly informed his corpus. It is probably no exaggeration to state that our understanding of Ovidian poetry is now much more far-reaching and more complete than ever before. Of course, the status of Ovid’s carmen perpetuum as one of the major literary works of Antiquity has granted it a conspicuous place both within and without Ovidian studies. Despite the diverse nature of Ovidian scholarship, we shall try, in these closing remarks, to identify some major past and current trends, and perhaps even some challenges for the years ahead. The text itself has been (and continues to be) an important research field, even if not the most cultivated. Studies on the textual transmission have led to the discovery of new manuscripts and fragments, and have confirmed the overwhelming role of contamination in met.’s paradosis, which, in turn, has resulted in a radical change in ecdotic technique. Most notably, R. Tarrant’s OCT was a big step forward, but a more comprehensive (and perhaps more radical) approach was subsequently initiated by the Nicolaus Heinsius Team in Huelva, whose results are gradually being published. Hand in hand with this editorial transformation, new editions (usually revised texts), translations and commentaries (special mention is due to the Lorenzo Valla series) have continuously been issued, oriented either towards specialists, students or the general public. This undoubtedly also attests to the fascination that Ovid’s poetry continues to exercise beyond the scholarly community, and why it is often used for didactic purposes. Mythological Quellenforschung, a traditional field of Ovidian scholarship, has continued to elicit attention. At the same time, G. B. Conte’s influential book Memoria dei poeti (1974) played a significant role in establishing intertextuality as a fundamental constituent of Latin poetry. Given the strongly allusive nature of Ovid’s Muse, the relationship with his forebears soon became an infinite seam for scholars to mine. Analogously, the poem’s hybrid generic status has regularly challenged academics, who have endeavoured to show how Ovid deliberately and subversively combines old forms in noua corpora. For all these reasons, considerable progress has been achieved in the studies of Ovid’s predecessors’ influence on met., especially Lucretius and Virgil. Future research could certainly further scrutinise the dialogue between met. and other Ovidian works. In turn, Ovid very soon became a model and an inspiration for later Roman (and Greek) writers and artists. Thus, the study of his influence continues to be a research area with endless possibilities (our survey, alas, could not go beyond 4th/5th c. ce).

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Partly originating in Syme’s famous book, scholars continue to show a keen interest in the historical, religious and philosophical content of met. But inquiries into the poem’s controversial, sometimes contradictory, political standpoint clearly lead this field of studies. It comes as no surprise that opposing conclusions are often reached. Modern literary theories have also found fertile ground in Ovid. The attempts to account for the numerous embedded tales and narrators in the poem certainly took advantage of narratological theories. Scholars like A. Barchiesi or G. Rosati, to name but two pioneers, successfully showed that Ovid, once again, conceals cunning intentions beneath an apparently chaotic assemblage of tales. Less numerous, but no lesser in quality, are the studies specifically devoted to the main narrator. In recent years, narratology also seems to have opened up to new perspectives (e.g. spatiality). Likewise, feminist and gender studies have taken full advantage of Ovid’s intrinsic interest in female psychology. In this way, ‘gender’, as well as two closely related and more traditional research fields such as ‘love’ and ‘sexuality’, have become important trends in Ovidian scholarship. We have thus far mentioned the most active research topics between 1980 and 2014. Although their potential seems far from exhausted, some less cultivated areas could perhaps benefit from renovated scholarly engagement. On the one hand, inquiries on Ovidian style and language in the traditional sense have been somewhat sidelined (it is perhaps significant that R.  Heinze’s 1919 monograph is still being reprinted), despite some very important contributions on specific aspects (e.g. Kenney, von Albrecht). Likewise, interest in the poem’s overall structure and design seems to be relatively reduced compared to previous decades (still as an implicit response to Otis?), in spite of, again, for instance, the ground-breaking paper of N. Holzberg. This partly reflects on the nature of the general introductions and joint interpretations: they continue to be published, but tend to focus on  a particular topic or motive, analysing it throughout and assessing its role in, or contribution to, the entire poem. We must admit, nevertheless, that the kaleidoscopic nature of the poem may require this kind of approach. In short, Ovidian studies, most especially in the case of met., have been very prolific in the surveyed period, and the combined effort of the academic community has significantly enlightened our appreciation of one of the finest poets of the Roman world. There is strong reason to believe that we shall all continue to do so for many more lustra to come.

Index auctorum Adams, E. T. (vol. 1): 273 Adams, J. N. (vol. 1): 38; (vol. 2): 49, 50 Ahl, F. M. (vol. 1): 35, 274, 328; (vol. 2): 51, 70 Ahlheid, F. (vol. 1): 348 Alardus, L. (vol. 1): 204 Albrecht, M. von (vol. 1): 13–14, 25, 27, 32, 34, 39, 40, 42–3, 58, 77–215 (passim), 218–19, 222, 228, 239, 244, 249, 260, 262, 264, 266, 274, 281–2, 322, 337, 345, 349, 388; (vol. 2): 20, 23–4, 26, 40–3, 48, 88, 152–3, 184, 187, 191, 239, 251, 274, 305–6, 320, 327 Aldina Editio (vol. 1): 91, 131, 160–1, 175, 180, 182, 191, 201, 212, 214 Alexakis, A. (vol. 2): 285 Algermissen, A. (vol. 1): 143 Allen, J. B. (vol. 1): 13 Alschner, C. (vol. 1): 55 Alston, R. (vol. 1): 338 Alvar Ezquerra, A. (vol. 1): 33, 337 Álvarez Morán, M.ª C. (vol. 1): 33, 40, 41–2, 78, 80, 84, 88–9, 94, 99, 104, 112, 116, 127, 133, 145, 147, 158, 201, 216, 228, 242, 274, 280, 281, 307, 333–4, 346, 348, 371; (vol. 2): 47, 101, 107, 116, 147, 152, 186, 208, 219, 324 Amato, E. (vol. 1): 205 Anagnostou-Laoutides, E. (vol. 1): 268 Anderson, B. T. (vol. 2): 37 Anderson, H. (vol. 1): 54 Anderson, W. S. (vol. 1): 13, 34, 54, 58, 77–215 (passim), 218, 298, 367, 375; (vol. 2): 16, 72–3, 88, 186, 200, 234 Andersson-Schmitt, M. (vol. 1): 56 Andreae, B. (vol. 2): 230 Andreis, E. (vol. 1): 56 Andreoni Fontecedro, E. (vol. 1): 303; (vol. 2): 48, 130–1 Appel, W. (vol. 2): 286 Arce, J. (vol. 2): 230 Arensmann, B. C. (vol. 1): 56 Aresi, L. (vol. 1): 279; (vol. 2): 118, 156 Arias Abellán, C. (vol. 2): 79, 80 Arnold, M. (vol. 1): 56 Asso, P. (vol. 2): 263 Auhagen, U. (vol. 2): 269 Aurenty, I. (vol. 2): 118, 155

Bach, E. C. C. (vol. 1): 95, 113, 125, 151–2, 157, 169, 181, 189–90, 207, 209, 213 Bader, F. (vol. 1): 282, 304 Baeza Angulo, E. (vol. 1): 55 Baggio, M. (vol. 2): 120, 232 Baier, T. (vol. 2): 116, 166, 184 Bal, M. (vol. 2): 76 Baldassarre, I. (vol. 2): 145, 230, 306 Baldini Moscadi, L. (vol. 1): 128; (vol. 2): 248 Baldo, G. (vol. 1): 236, 241, 248–9, 389; (vol. 2): 116, 197–8, 203, 210, 218 Baldwin, B. (vol. 2): 252 Balsley, K. (vol. 1): 335, 338; (vol. 2): 81, 148 Bañales Leoz, J. M. (vol. 2): 260 Bandini, M. (vol. 2): 239 Barbarus, H. (vol. 1): 148 Barchiesi, A. (vol. 1): 13–14, 31, 36, 40, 58, 78–80, 84, 88–93, 96–7, 99, 100, 103–4, 107, 219, 227, 236, 239, 241, 262, 297, 299, 303, 325–7, 329, 330, 332, 335, 388; (vol. 2): 21–2, 121, 168, 183, 225, 310, 327 Barclay, N. (vol. 1): 377 Bariner, O. von (vol. 1): 150 Barkan, L. (vol. 1): 276 Barolsky, P. (vol. 1): 296, 388; (vol. 2): 79, 80, 307, 310, 314–15, 318–19 Barry, M. I. (vol. 2): 15 Bartels, A. (vol. 1): 247 Bartenbach, A. (vol. 1): 227 Barth, C. (vol. 1): 147, 209 Basile, A. (vol. 2): 260 Batinski, E. (vol. 2): 247 Battistella, C. (vol. 1): 243 Bauer, M. (vol. 1): 345 Baumann, H. (vol. 2): 267 Baumgarten-Crusius, D. C. G. (vol. 1): 88, 175, 184, 190, 197, 214 Beagon, M. (vol. 1): 294, 340 Beasley, M. (vol. 1): 294–6, 300–1 Becht-Jördens, G. (vol. 1): 388 Bechtold, C. (vol. 1): 324 Bellandi, F. (vol. 2): 126, 212 Bellido Díaz, J. A. (vol. 1): 46, 93, 192 Bender, H. V. (vol. 2): 230 Bentley, R. (vol. 1): 59, 77, 86, 95, 105, 107, 116, 133, 135, 141, 143, 147, 157, 163, 166, 170, 178, 181, 183–4, 188, 192, 199, 211 Bérchez Castaño, E. (vol. 1): 338

Index auctorum Bergk, T. (vol. 1): 157 Berlin, N. R. (vol. 2): 26 Bernabé, A. (vol. 1): 296, 298–9 Bernardini Marzolla, P. (vol. 1): 90, 109, 116, 124, 126, 131, 135, 150–1, 159, 161, 166, 188, 191–2, 197–9, 218 Bernhard, M. (vol. 1): 56 Berno, F. R. (vol. 2): 261 Bernsdorff, H. (vol. 1): 115, 122; (vol. 2): 26, 48, 69, 70, 150, 156, 291 Bersman, G. (vol. 1): 87 Bertini, F. (vol. 2): 168 Bessone, F. (vol. 1): 125; (vol. 2): 199, 269 Bettenworth, A. (vol. 1): 347; (vol. 2): 128, 151 Billerbeck, M. (vol. 2): 263 Bischoff, B. (vol. 1): 54 Bischoff, D. (vol. 1): 370 Bishop, A. W. (vol. 1): 248; (vol. 2): 47, 120, 200 Black, R. (vol. 1): 58 Blanc, B. (vol. 1): 222 Blänsdorf, J. (vol. 1): 83; (vol. 2): 72, 74, 306 Blomgren, S. (vol. 2): 283 Blomqvist, J. (vol. 1): 325 Bodemann, U. (vol. 1): 57 Boehringer, S. (vol. 1): 349, 357, 371–2; (vol. 2): 154, 286 Boillat, M. (vol. 2): 82 Boissonade, J. F. (vol. 1): 124, 178 Bologna, H. A. (vol. 1): 55 Bömer, F. (vol. 1): 13, 58, 131, 141–2, 162, 169–70, 172, 192–3, 196, 203–4, 211, 219, 297, 303, 305; (vol. 2): 26, 79, 126, 217, 235 Bonfadini, P. (vol. 1): 56 Bonifaz Nuño, R. (vol. 1): 303 Bonniec, H. Le (vol. 1): 263, 346; (vol. 2): 271 Booth, J. (vol. 1): 13 Borca, F. (vol. 2): 253 Bordone, F. (vol. 2): 277–8 Borgo, A. (vol. 2): 261 Borucki, J. (vol. 1): 81 Bothe, F. H. (vol. 1): 86, 95–9, 101, 107, 111, 122, 133, 144, 149, 152, 156, 159, 163, 164, 168, 175, 179, 184, 186, 190, 193, 197, 203, 205, 207, 210 Bouquet, J. (vol. 1): 385; (vol. 2): 276 Boutemy, A. (vol. 1): 56 Boxus, A.-M. (vol. 1): 46

329

Boyd, B. W. (vol. 1): 13–14, 30, 182, 226–7, 243, 250; (vol. 2): 121, 183, 194 Boyle, A. J. (vol. 1): 34, 328 Braden, G. (vol. 1): 284 Brady, T. M. (vol. 1): 239; (vol. 2): 117 Brandhofer, F. J. (vol. 1): 383 Brännstedt, L. (vol. 1): 331 Brasil Fontes, J. (vol. 1): 242, 247; (vol. 2): 35, 121, 153 Braun, L. (vol. 2): 47 Braund, S. H. (vol. 2): 243 Brazouski, A. (vol. 1): 336; (vol. 2): 52, 218 Breitenbach, H. (vol. 1): 161, 185 Bremond, C. (vol. 2): 23 Brenk, F. E. (vol. 1): 267, 271, 275, 298, 305; (vol. 2): 80 Bretzigheimer, G. (vol. 1): 263, 334 Brinkhus, G. (vol. 1): 56 Brisson, L. (vol. 1): 365 Broccia, G. (vol. 1): 389 Brown, L. A. (vol. 1): 46 Brown, R. D. (vol. 1): 300; (vol. 2): 37 Brown, S. A. (vol. 1): 254 Bruggisser, P. (vol. 2): 282 Bruzzone, R. (vol. 2): 125 Buchheit, V. (vol. 1): 303, 328 Buisel de Sequeiros, M. D. (vol. 1): 299 Buonocore, M. (vol. 1): 53 Burck, E. (vol. 2): 263 Burgess, J. S. (vol. 1): 367 Burkert, W. (vol. 1): 296 Burman, P. (vol. 1): 55, 79, 81–2, 85–7, 90, 92–5, 101, 103–4, 107, 110–11, 113, 115–16, 119, 121, 123–6, 128, 131–2, 139, 141–2, 144–50, 153–5, 158–60, 162, 166–73, 175, 177, 179, 182, 184, 187, 190, 193, 195–7, 201, 204, 207, 210 Bursill-Hall, G. L. (vol. 1): 56 Butterfield, D. J. (vol. 1): 137 Buzoianu, L. (vol. 2): 83 Caballero de del Sastre, E. (vol. 1): 296, 298, 348; (vol. 2): 85 Cadili, L. (vol. 2): 128, 154 Cahoon, L. (vol. 2): 69–70 Cairns, F. (vol. 1): 250, 358, 378; (vol. 2): 86 Cameron, A. (vol. 2): 102, 132, 142, 160 Campana, P. (vol. 1): 153 Campanale, M. I. (vol. 2): 283 Cancik, H. (vol. 1): 386; (vol. 2): 32 Cancik-Lindemaier, H. (vol. 1): 272

330

Index auctorum

Candelas Colodrón, M. Á. (vol. 1): 228 Cantó, M.ª J. (vol. 1): 216 Capoferreus, I. G. (vol. 1): 94, 98, 106, 114, 121, 139, 163, 193, 196 Capponi, F. (vol. 1): 385 Carbonell Manils, J. (vol. 2): 235 Cardigni, J. (vol. 1): 83 Carmignani, M. (vol. 2): 252 Casali, S. (vol. 1): 14, 188, 240; (vol. 2): 147, 168, 198–9, 204, 225, 233 Casanova-Robin, H. (vol. 1): 254, 267, 294, 324 Castagna, L. (vol. 1): 387 Castellani, V. (vol. 2): 120, 147–8 Castillo Herrera, M. del (vol. 2): 94–5 Caubet, A. (vol. 1): 385 Cavallo, G. (vol. 1): 32 Ceccarelli, L. (vol. 2): 89–92 Cecchin, S. A. (vol. 1): 242, 280; (vol. 2): 259, 269 Chadha, V. (vol. 1): 40 Chappuis Sandoz, L. (vol. 1): 243, 355, 370; (vol. 2): 54, 75–6, 79 Charles, H. E. (vol. 1): 227 Charlet, J.-L. (vol. 2): 275 Chaudhuri, P. (vol. 1): 270 Chevallier, R. (vol. 1): 40 Chinn, C. (vol. 2): 169, 265, 267 Chinnici, V. (vol. 2): 119, 212 Christophory, J. (vol. 1): 56 Ciappi, M. (vol. 1): 249; (vol. 2): 126–7, 166, 204, 259, 285, 287, 289–91 Cicognini, M. (vol. 1): 265 Ciechanowicz, J. (vol. 2): 246 Cieri Via, C. (vol. 1): 47 Ciofanus, H. (vol. 1): 77, 81, 96–7, 132, 182–3, 187, 204 Cipriano, G. (vol. 2): 41 Citroni, M. (vol. 1): 383 Citti, F. (vol. 1): 40–1; (vol. 2): 81 Cizek, E. (vol. 1): 35; (vol. 2): 233 Claassen, J.-M. (vol. 2): 82, 272–3 Clarke, W. M. (vol. 2): 64, 153 Classen, C. J. (vol. 1): 348 Clausen, W. (vol. 1): 31, 107, 193, 204 Clauss, J. J. (vol. 1): 269 Codoñer, C. (vol. 1): 33 Coetzee, D. J. (vol. 1): 37 Cogny, D. (vol. 2): 84 Cogny, P. (vol. 2): 84 Coin-Longeray, S. (vol. 1): 390

Colavito, M. M. (vol. 1): 266, 293, 295, 297, 304; (vol. 2): 130 Cole, T. A. (vol. 1): 228, 300, 323 Coleman, K. M. (vol. 2): 17 Colpo, I. (vol. 1): 345; (vol. 2): 231–2, 234, 311, 317 Colton, R. E. (vol. 2): 281 Comparelli, F. (vol. 2): 279 Constantius Fanensis, I. (vol. 1): 78, 95, 100, 115, 130, 138, 151, 167, 174–5, 178, 180, 193, 209 Conte, G. B. (vol. 1): 31–2, 127, 236–7; (vol. 2): 168 Coo, L. (vol. 1): 376; (vol. 2): 127 Cornelissen, J. J. (vol. 1): 88 Corte, F. della (vol. 1): 304; (vol. 2): 130, 211 Corti, R. (vol. 2): 79 Coulson, F. T. (vol. 1): 53–4, 57–8 Coulson, V. (vol. 1): 305 Courtney, E. (vol. 1): 113, 127, 129, 136, 149, 163, 175, 177, 190, 192, 195 Cowan, R. W. (vol. 2): 48, 54, 151 Crabbe, A. (vol. 1): 13, 227 Criado, C. (vol. 2): 265, 267 Crispinus, D. (vol. 1): 96 Cristóbal López, V. (vol. 2): 126, 249, 287 Croisille, J. M. (vol. 2): 116 Cruce, I. a (vol. 1): 81, 84 Cucchiarelli, A. (vol. 2): 51–2, 126 Cugusi, P. (vol. 2): 235 Cupaiuolo, F. (vol. 1): 33 Curley, D. (vol. 1): 242, 373; (vol. 2): 25, 125, 127, 258 Curran, B. F. (vol. 1): 328 Curran, L. C. (vol. 1): 352 Currie, H. M. (vol. 2): 166–7, 252 Cuypers, M. (vol. 1): 45 Cytowska, M. (vol. 2): 275, 277 Daams, S. (vol. 1): 37, 235, 242; (vol. 2): 85, 218, 222 Daguillon, J. (vol. 1): 56 Dalfen, J. (vol. 1): 293, 305 Daly, J. (vol. 2): 67 Dammer, R. (vol. 2): 93–4 Damon, C. (vol. 1): 337 Damschen, G. (vol. 2): 83 Damsté, P. H. (vol. 1): 166 Dangel, J. (vol. 2): 72–3, 85, 247, 260 Danielewicz, J. (vol. 1): 247 Datane, V. (vol. 2): 67

Index auctorum Davidson, J. (vol. 2): 286 Davis, G. (vol. 1): 13, 227, 235, 345, 355; (vol. 2): 33, 118, 169, 192 Davis, J. T. (vol. 1): 377; (vol. 2): 217 Davis, P. J. (vol. 1): 340; (vol. 2): 69–71, 269 DeBloois, N. A. (vol. 1): 354, 367, 378; (vol. 2): 121 DeBrohun, J. B. (vol. 1): 241, 248, 349, 357, 372; (vol. 2): 56, 172, 222 Dee, J. H. (vol. 2): 88 Deferrari, R. J. (vol. 2): 15 Dehon, P.-J. (vol. 1): 146 Delarue, F. (vol. 2): 266, 270 Delbey, É. (vol. 1): 331, 335, 385; (vol. 2): 277 Delcourt, M. (vol. 1): 365 Delgado Santos, J. Á. (vol. 1): 241 Delrio, M. A. (vol. 1): 80 Delvigo, M. L. (vol. 2): 173 Delz, J. (vol. 1): 114, 148, 169 Denoël, C. (vol. 1): 58 Deproost, P.-A. (vol. 1): 46 Deremetz, A. (vol. 1): 300, 328; (vol. 2): 34, 199, 263 Deufert, M. (vol. 2): 94 Dewar, M. (vol. 2): 234 Dicke, G. (vol. 1): 57 Díez Platas, F. (vol. 1): 329 Díez Reboso, S. (vol. 1): 54, 162–72 (passim) Dihle, A. (vol. 2): 291 Dimundo, R. (vol. 2): 252 Dippel, M. (vol. 2): 117, 184 Dobinson, C. R. (vol. 1): 240, 326, 346, 352 Doblhofer, G. (vol. 1): 353, 367 Domański, J. (vol. 1): 40 Domenicucci, P. (vol. 1): 331 Döpp, S. (vol. 1): 25–6; (vol. 2): 184, 291 Doppler, G. (vol. 1): 324 Doyen, C. (vol. 1): 114 Due, O. S. (vol. 1): 239, 297 Dufallo, B. (vol. 2): 48 Dunn, F. M. (vol. 2): 260 Dupont, F. (vol. 1): 241 Duret, L. (vol. 1): 34 Dyson Hejduk, J. (vol. 1): 114, 260, 323 Editio Gryphiana (vol. 1): 94, 153, 161, 167, 185, 206 Editio Iuntina (vol. 1): 211 Edmunds, L. (vol. 2): 168, 203 Edwards, C. (vol. 1): 338

331

Edwards, G. M. (vol. 1): 78, 85, 92–3, 98, 102–4, 114, 120, 125, 127, 130, 132–3, 137–8, 147, 149, 154, 157, 163, 165, 168, 172, 178–9, 187–9, 193, 196, 201–2, 205, 210–11, 218 Egan, R. B. (vol. 2): 131 Egea Carrasco, A. (vol. 2): 152, 237 Eggers, T. (vol. 1): 261 Ehrhardt, K. (vol. 2): 243 Ehwald, R. (vol. 1): 81, 84–5, 90, 92, 94, 104, 128, 134, 136–7, 143–4, 151, 160, 166, 169, 180, 183, 190, 193, 206, 211; (vol. 2): 16, 88, 96 Eichert, O. (vol. 2): 16 Eigler, U. (vol. 1): 223, 247 Eldred, K. O. (vol. 2): 247 Eller, K. H. (vol. 1): 222, 266, 275; (vol. 2): 289 Elliot, G. (vol. 1): 12 Elliott, A. G. (vol. 1): 42; (vol. 2): 254 Ellis, R. (vol. 1): 91–2, 96, 190 Ellsworth, J. D. (vol. 2): 116–17, 183 Emberger, P. (vol. 1): 338 Engels, D. (vol. 1): 265, 272–3, 338 Erbse, H. (vol. 1): 224 Erkema, E. (vol. 1): 94 Escobar, Á. (vol. 1): 83 Esposito, P. (vol. 1): 13, 235, 239, 249; (vol. 2): 18, 116, 120, 184, 241, 245, 260 Estefanía, D. (vol. 1): 235 Estévez Sola, J. A. (vol. 1): 41, 53, 55, 172, 175, 177 Evenepoel, W. (vol. 2): 75–6, 279 Fabbri, P. (vol. 1): 180, 182 Faber, P. (vol. 1): 82 Faber, T. (vol. 1): 93, 107, 154–5, 168, 170, 185 Fàbregas, P. (vol. 1): 129, 156–62 (passim) Fabre-Serris, J. (vol. 1): 241–2, 249, 253, 261, 294, 303–5, 326, 340, 345, 347, 355–7, 370, 387; (vol. 2): 33–4, 36, 69, 116, 118–19, 126–8, 143, 146, 149, 159, 161, 168–9, 172, 189–90, 203, 208, 225, 252, 259 Fantham, E. (vol. 1): 13, 222, 235, 303, 344, 354, 364, 385; (vol. 2): 100, 246 Farnabius, T. (vol. 1): 84, 86, 173, 206 Farrell, J. A. (vol. 1): 34, 235–8, 250, 323, 377; (vol. 2): 17, 161, 220, 225 Fedeli, P. (vol. 1): 32, 82, 85, 91, 101, 103, 109, 113, 118, 130, 133, 136, 143, 154, 156, 158, 195

332

Index auctorum

Feeney, D. C. (vol. 1): 216, 261, 273, 295, 297, 299, 322, 324, 331–5, 386; (vol. 2): 101, 223, 245, 263, 265, 269 Feichtinger, B. (vol. 1): 229, 326 Feldherr, A. (vol. 1): 14, 28, 239, 241, 328–30, 333, 335; (vol. 2): 77, 235 Fele, M. L. (vol. 2): 77 Felgentreu, F. (vol. 2): 86, 203 Fellner, K. (vol. 1): 353, 363, 377 Felton, D. (vol. 1): 136 Fernandelli, M. (vol. 1): 247; (vol. 2): 69, 72, 190 Fernández Corte, J. C. (vol. 1): 216; (vol. 2): 48, 55 Fernández de la Cuesta, B. (vol. 1): 54 Fernández Valverde, J. (vol. 1): 106–7 Fernillot, Y. (vol. 1): 56 Fick, N. (vol. 2): 239 Fielding, I. (vol. 2): 271–3, 276, 279, 281, 283 Filosini, S. (vol. 2): 282 Fink, G. (vol. 1): 58, 78, 92, 105, 118, 123, 131, 133–4, 136, 179, 189, 192–4, 198, 201, 218, 322 Firnkes, M. (vol. 1): 383 Fisher, E. (vol. 2): 284, 291–2 Fleischmann, P. (vol. 1): 337 Fletcher, G. B. A. (vol. 1): 109, 253 Fletcher, K. (vol. 1): 253; (vol. 2): 159, 211, 222, 226 Fletcher, R. (vol. 1): 323, 356; (vol. 2): 122 Fliege, J. (vol. 1): 55 Flores, E. (vol. 2): 249 Fogg, S. (vol. 1): 58 Fohlen, J. (vol. 1): 55 Fondermann, P. (vol. 1): 224 Fontes, J. B. (vol. 1): 385 Forbis, E. P. (vol. 1): 340 Formicola, B. (vol. 1): 199 Fowler, D. P. (vol. 1): 31, 241, 355, 368, 383; (vol. 2): 173, 324 Francese, C. A. (vol. 1): 354 Franklin, N. (vol. 1): 295, 303 Fratantuono, L. (vol. 1): 274; (vol. 2): 191, 249 Frécaut, J. M. (vol. 1): 243, 378; (vol. 2): 37–8, 40, 67, 221 Freyburger, G. (vol. 1): 294, 303–4 Frings, I. (vol. 2): 15, 217 Froesch, H. (vol. 2): 64 Frontisi-Ducroux, F. (vol. 1): 370; (vol. 2): 100, 285

Fuà, O. (vol. 2): 269 Fucecchi, M. (vol. 1): 247, 279; (vol. 2): 27, 120, 153, 188, 240–1, 246 Fuchs, R. E. (vol. 2): 95–6 Fügner, F. (vol. 2): 16 Führer, R. (vol. 2): 91 Fuhrer, T. (vol. 1): 247, 376 Fulkerson, L. (vol. 1): 263, 329 Fuss, J. D. (vol. 1): 159 Gacia, T. (vol. 2): 271 Gaertner, H. (vol. 1): 325 Gaertner, J. F. (vol. 1): 84, 107, 119, 177 Gahan, J. T. (vol. 2): 258 Gaillard, J. (vol. 1): 34 Galand, P. (vol. 1): 248; (vol. 2): 274 Galasso, L. (vol. 1): 58, 77–215 (passim), 218, 331, 379 Galimberti Biffino, G. (vol. 2): 69, 72 Galindo Esparza, A. (vol. 1): 281–2 Galinsky, K. (vol. 1): 36, 294, 297, 300–4, 325–6, 333–4, 337, 339; (vol. 2): 18–20, 102, 130, 171, 183, 186, 234 Gallego Moya, E. (vol. 1): 14, 27, 241; (vol. 2): 75–6 Galvagno, R. (vol. 1): 223, 225 Gamel, M. K. (vol. 1): 348 Garani, M. (vol. 1): 300 García Fuentes, M.ª C. (vol. 2): 320 García López, Y. (vol. 1): 293 García Yebra, V. (vol. 2): 291 Gardner, H. H. (vol. 1): 324 Gärtner, T. (vol. 1): 84, 110, 112–15, 117, 120–3; (vol. 2): 119, 151, 154–5, 219, 240, 269 Gatti, P. L. (vol. 1): 40–1 Gauly, B. M. (vol. 1): 223 Gavinelli, S. (vol. 1): 56 Gazeau, M. (vol. 1): 324 Gebhardus, I. (vol. 1): 117 Genette, G. (vol. 2): 17, 75 Genovese, E. N. (vol. 2): 36 Gentilcore, R. (vol. 1): 241, 349; (vol. 2): 34 Gérard, J. (vol. 2): 92 Geymonat, M. (vol. 1): 227 Ghedini, F. (vol. 1): 263, 328, 347; (vol. 2): 229–32, 234, 285, 287, 290, 317 Giaccaria, A. (vol. 1): 58 Giardina, A. (vol. 1): 32 Giardina, G. (vol. 1): 58, 197 Giebel, M. (vol. 1): 25

Index auctorum Gierig, G. E. (vol. 1): 80, 92, 141, 154, 191 Gilbert, J. (vol. 1): 78 Gildenhard, I. (vol. 1): 101–2, 231, 237, 239, 300, 322, 386; (vol. 2): 72, 75, 125, 259 Gindhart, M. (vol. 2): 230, 272 Ginsberg, W. S. (vol. 1): 37, 223, 367 Giordano, F. (vol. 1): 388; (vol. 2): 273 Gioseffi, M. (vol. 2): 23 Giovine, C. Di (vol. 2): 272 Glaesser, R. (vol. 2): 85 Glareanus, H. (vol. 1): 123, 191 Glauche, G. (vol. 1): 56 Glinski, M. L. von (vol. 2): 42, 48 Glover, C. L. (vol. 2): 20 Glücklich, H.-J. (vol. 1): 42–3 Gnilka, C. (vol. 1): 108 Godwin, J. (vol. 1): 102 Gold, R. D. (vol. 1): 335 González Vázquez, J. (vol. 1): 356 Goold, G. P. (vol. 1): 58, 77–215 (passim), 216, 218 Gordesiani, R. (vol. 1): 227 Gordon, R. (vol. 1): 281 Gosling, A. (vol. 1): 330 Gosserez, L. (vol. 2): 271 Gossmann, H.-Ch. (vol. 2): 286 Gottwald, H. (vol. 1): 252, 254 Graf, F. (vol. 1): 261–2, 281, 300 Granarolo, J. (vol. 2): 169 Grassi, E. (vol. 2): 46 Grassigli, G. L. (vol. 1): 388; (vol. 2): 231 Grau, P. (vol. 1): 47 Graverini, L. (vol. 2): 30–1, 148, 239 Graziani, F. (vol. 1): 229; (vol. 2): 20 Green, S. J. (vol. 1): 275, 303 Greenberg, H. (vol. 1): 47 Greenberg, N. A. (vol. 2): 64, 88–9 Gregory, M. E. (vol. 1): 305 Grewing, F. (vol. 1): 239 Griffin, A. H. F. (vol. 1): 144–5, 162, 239, 337, 339, 347; (vol. 2): 118, 122, 152–3, 155, 196, 211 Griffin, J. (vol. 1): 35–6, 337, 339 Grimal, P. (vol. 1): 33 Gronovius, I. F. (vol. 1): 100, 109, 116, 132, 136, 158, 171, 175–6, 180 Gros, P. (vol. 1): 269; (vol. 2): 69, 162 Gross, N. P. (vol. 1): 247, 376; (vol. 2): 47, 103, 155 Grubmüller, K. (vol. 1): 57 Gruen, E. S. (vol. 1): 320

333

Guarino Ortega, R. (vol. 2): 21 Guerra López, S. (vol. 1): 368 Guichard, L. A. (vol. 2): 284 Guillaumin, J.-Y. (vol. 1): 304, 333; (vol. 2): 270 Guiraud, H. (vol. 2): 231 Gumbert, J. P. (vol. 1): 56, 58 Günther, H.-J. (vol. 1): 47 Guzmán Arias, C. (vol. 1): 389 Haarberg, J. M. (vol. 2): 47 Habermehl, P. (vol. 1): 281; (vol. 2): 252, 289 Habinek, T. N. (vol. 1): 323, 325–7, 332, 334, 337 Haidinger, A. (vol. 1): 56 Håkanson, L. (vol. 2): 65, 92 Hall, J. B. (vol. 1): 55, 56, 77–89 (passim), 178, 188, 195 Hallett, J. P. (vol. 1): 372 Hamilton, J. T. (vol. 2): 121, 131 Happ, H. (vol. 2): 78 Hardie, A. (vol. 1): 243, 266 Hardie, P. (vol. 1): 28, 30, 34, 36, 40, 58, 180–9, 191–8, 201–3, 205, 207–11, 213–14, 219, 248, 261, 271, 274–5, 283, 293, 295, 297, 300, 303–4, 322, 326–7, 332–3, 335–6, 354, 384, 389; (vol. 2): 28, 31, 33, 41–2, 48, 117, 119, 130, 147, 170, 183, 193–4, 200, 203, 209, 211, 235–6, 267, 290 Harrauer, C. (vol. 1): 239; (vol. 2): 131 Harrison, S. J. (vol. 1): 13, 34, 105, 151, 235, 389; (vol. 2): 91, 238 Härtel, H. (vol. 1): 56 Harthausen, H. (vol. 1): 55 Hartman, J. J. (vol. 1): 81, 87, 113, 121, 141, 161, 173 Hartung, H. (vol. 1): 95 Harwardt, S. (vol. 2): 283 Harzer, F. (vol. 1): 14, 25–6 Haupt, M. (vol. 1): 97, 109; (vol. 2): 80, 88 Haynes, M. (vol. 1): 224 Heath, J. (vol. 1): 239, 353, 389; (vol. 2): 43, 108, 119 Hedicke, E. (vol. 1): 77 Hedlund, M (vol. 1): 56 Heerink, M. A. J. (vol. 2): 173, 197 Heilmann, W. (vol. 2): 268 Heinrich, K. (vol. 1): 276 Heinsius, D. (vol. 1): 145, 149, 153, 166

334

Index auctorum

Heinsius, N. (vol. 1): 46, 55, 58–9, 77–215 (passim), 218; (vol. 2): 90, 326 Heinze, R. (vol. 1): 36–7, 235–7, 241; (vol. 2): 15, 144, 224–5, 327 Hejduk, J. D. (vol. 1): 114, 260, 323 Heldmann, K. (vol. 1): 355; (vol. 2): 119, 319 Hellmich, M. (vol. 1): 383 Hellmuth, C. (vol. 1): 113, 119, 167–8 Helzle, M. (vol. 1): 297, 301 Hemker, J. (vol. 1): 323 Henderson, A. A. R. (vol. 1): 13, 96, 102 Hendry, M. (vol. 1): 108, 111, 119, 185, 207; (vol. 2): 64 Hengst, D. Den (vol. 1): 371 Henneböhl, R. (vol. 1): 229, 240, 348, 383; (vol. 2): 25, 38 Hershkowitz, D. (vol. 1): 385 Herter, H. (vol. 1): 227; (vol. 2): 105, 162, 288 Hessler, J. E. (vol. 2): 128 Heyworth, S. J. (vol. 1): 58, 239, 335 Hijmans, B. (vol. 2): 69, 71 Hilberg, I. (vol. 1): 190 Hill, D. E. (vol. 1): 13, 81–2, 162, 190, 218, 334 Hillgruber, M. (vol. 1): 325 Hinds, S. (vol. 1): 13, 36, 40, 235–6, 241–2, 337, 386; (vol. 2): 16, 101, 121, 149, 167, 184–5, 219, 224, 226, 242, 246, 250, 258, 267 Hirata, M. (vol. 2): 46 Hodske, J. (vol. 2): 231 Hoefmans, M. (vol. 2): 170, 194, 207, 221 Hoffmann, E. (vol. 1): 109 Hoffmann, H. (vol. 1): 58 Hoffmann, R. (vol. 2): 77 Hofmann, H. (vol. 1): 12–13, 20, 239, 338; (vol. 2): 316 Holland, R. (vol. 1): 140 Holleman, H. (vol. 1): 335 Hollenburger-Rusch, C. (vol. 2): 47 Hollis, A. S. (vol. 1): 13, 139, 142, 145 Holmes, N. (vol. 2): 91 Hölscher, W. (vol. 2): 127 Holtsmark, E. B. (vol. 2): 85 Holzberg, N. (vol. 1): 14–15, 25–7, 45, 58, 78, 81, 85, 103, 119, 126–7, 132, 140, 143, 147, 149, 151–2, 154–5, 167, 169, 186, 188, 191, 198–9, 201–2, 204, 207–8, 212, 219, 222, 228, 250, 252, 302, 326–7, 338, 373; (vol. 2): 14, 20, 69, 130, 199, 234, 307, 327 Hommel, H. (vol. 1): 271

Hopkinson, N. (vol. 1): 178–92 (passim); (vol. 2): 93 Horstmann, H. (vol. 2): 24–5 Hose, M. (vol. 2): 283 Houriez, A. (vol. 1): 237, 376; (vol. 2): 125, 147 Housman, A. E. (vol. 1): 59, 78, 80, 82, 89, 91, 93–4, 102–3, 108, 110, 112, 120, 137, 154, 157, 165, 168, 174, 184, 187, 189, 193, 196, 202, 212; (vol. 2): 94 Huber, M. (vol. 1): 305 Huber-Rebenich, G. (vol. 2): 34, 303, 307–8 Hübner, W. (vol. 2): 247, 249 Hunink, V. (vol. 2): 72, 74, 239 Hunt, A. (vol. 1): 241; (vol. 2): 34 Hunt, J. (VOL. 2): 320 Hutchinson, G. O. (vol. 2): 108, 118, 145–6, 156, 322 Huxley, G. L. (vol. 1): 131 Huyck, J. F. (vol. 1): 179, 180–4 Iglesias Montiel, R. M.ª (vol. 1): 33, 40–2, 78, 80, 84, 88–9, 94, 99, 104, 112, 116, 127, 133, 147, 158, 201, 216, 228, 242, 274, 280–1, 307, 333–4, 346, 348, 371; (vol. 2): 47, 101, 107, 116, 147, 152, 186, 208, 219, 324 Ingleheart, J. (vol. 1): 336, 340 Innocenti Pierini, R. Degl’ (vol. 1): 32, 79–80, 140, 177; (vol. 2): 38, 125, 152–3, 168, 194, 207, 222–3, 258, 260–2, 285 Iodice di Martino, M. G. (vol. 1): 38, 368; (vol. 2): 109 Ippolito, G. D’ (vol. 2): 283, 290 Iulietto, M. N. (vol. 2): 241 Jacobsen, G. A. (vol. 2): 36, 246 Jacobson, H. (vol. 1): 204; (vol. 2): 172 Jahn, J. C. (vol. 1): 78, 87, 104, 126, 129, 135, 148, 155, 157, 165, 170, 178, 181, 189, 195, 198, 203, 211 Jakobi, R. (vol. 2): 258 James, P. (vol. 1): 223, 389 James, S. L. (vol. 1): 15 Janan, M. W. (vol. 1): 339, 349, 356, 368 Janka, M. (vol. 1): 14, 40–1, 45, 250, 335; (vol. 2): 118–19, 197, 258 Jeudy, C. (vol. 1): 56 Joffre, M.-D. (vol. 2): 78–9 Johnson, P. J. (vol. 1): 263, 270, 274, 325–6, 338; (vol. 2): 79

Index auctorum Johnson, W. R. (vol. 1): 27, 216, 349, 358; (vol. 2): 69, 70, 225 Johnston, S. I. (vol. 1): 267, 271, 283 Jolivet, J.-C. (vol. 2): 117, 196 Jones, P. J. (vol. 1): 265, 358 Joplin, P. K. (vol. 1): 356, 370 Joseph, T. A. (vol. 1): 333 Jouteur, I. (vol. 1): 40–1, 235, 239, 247, 279, 295, 321, 377; (vol. 2): 38, 47, 247 Julia, M.-A. (vol. 2): 82 Jung, H. (vol. 1): 274 Kakovkin, A. Y. (vol. 2): 232 Kallendorf, C. (vol. 1): 12 Kaufhold, S. D. (vol. 2): 27, 40–1, 43, 76 Kaufmann, H. (vol. 2): 276 Kayachev, B. (vol. 1): 274; (vol. 2): 120, 148 Keith, A. M. (vol. 1): 30, 223, 236–7, 248, 271, 297–8, 326, 338, 355, 363, 368–9; (vol. 2): 35, 51–2, 67, 101, 120, 125, 144, 168, 201, 218, 234–6, 239, 247, 266, 272, 316 Kennedy, D. (vol. 1): 320, 325, 331 Kenney, E. J. (vol. 1): 14, 30–1, 58–9, 77, 86, 89, 92, 98–9, 101, 112, 124–56 (passim), 172, 173, 178, 181, 183, 187–8, 193–200, 202, 204, 206–8, 216, 219, 222, 228, 321; (vol. 2): 13–14, 16, 91–2, 327 Kern, M. (vol. 1): 254 Kershaw, A. (vol. 2): 91 Kirby, J. T. (vol. 1): 236, 378; (vol. 2): 16–17, 75 Kirichenko, A. (vol. 2): 239 Klein, D. (vol. 1): 57 Klein, F. (vol. 1): 242, 279; (vol. 2): 18, 72–3, 143, 150, 186 Klein, H. (vol. 1): 252 Klug, W. (vol. 2): 75–6 Kluska-Jaśkowiak, E. (vol. 1): 334 Knox, P. E. (vol. 1): 13–14, 30, 39, 83, 206, 208, 211, 239, 296, 297; (vol. 2): 66, 77, 142–3, 150, 158, 192–3, 208, 210, 218–19, 230–1, 237, 289 Koch, H. A. (vol. 1): 157, 176, 192, 210 Koch, L. (vol. 1): 219 Kollmann, E. D. (vol. 2): 67, 91 Kompatscher Gufler, G. (vol. 1): 224 Konstan, D. (vol. 1): 263, 329; (vol. 2): 121, 150 Korn, M. (vol. 2): 264

335

Korn, O. (vol. 1): 109, 116, 128–9, 133, 145, 149, 155, 167–8, 177, 193, 197, 205; (vol. 2): 88 Koster, S. (vol. 1): 331 Köstlin, H. (vol. 1): 101 Kovacs, A. D. (vol. 1): 78, 83, 87, 99, 203 Kowalczyk, M. (vol. 1): 55 Kozák, D. (vol. 2): 267 Kozlowski, J. (vol. 1): 267 Krabbe, J. K. (vol. 2): 239 Krämer, S. (vol. 1): 56 Krasne, D. (vol. 1): 334 Krause, C. (vol. 1): 55; (vol. 2): 116, 196 Krause, K. (vol. 2): 314 Kristeller, P. O. (vol. 1): 56 Kroon, C. (vol. 2): 72, 74, 78 Krüger, T. (vol. 1): 344 Krupp, J. (vol. 1): 224, 326 Kruschwitz, P. (vol. 2): 126 Kubusch, K. (vol. 2): 38 Kuhlmann, P. A. (vol. 1): 267; (vol. 2): 148, 290 Kuon, P. (vol. 1): 252 Kyriakidis, S. (vol. 1): 249, 322–3, 332; (vol. 2): 19, 42, 47, 54, 211, 224–5 Labate, M. (vol. 1): 28–9, 31, 42, 236, 239, 249, 345, 379, 383; (vol. 2): 50, 84, 117, 119–20, 155–6, 166, 196 Lachmann, C. (vol. 1): 120, 193; (vol. 2): 95 Lada-Richards, I. (vol. 1): 389 Lafaye, G. (vol. 1): 46, 218 Lagioia, A. (vol. 2): 280 Laguna Mariscal, G. (vol. 2): 34 Laigneau-Fontaine, S. (vol. 1): 237, 243; (vol. 2): 34, 126, 167 Laird, A. (vol. 2): 31, 69, 72 Lake, S. E. (vol. 1): 327, 376 Lamarque, H. (vol. 1): 12 Landolfi, L. (vol. 1): 252, 387; (vol. 2): 120, 127, 148, 167, 169, 207, 220, 224, 249, 260 Lange, L. (vol. 1): 114 Langlands, R. (vol. 1): 366 Lapatin, K. (vol. 1): 282 Larmour, D. H. J. (vol. 2): 127 Lateiner, D. (vol. 1): 272, 327, 332, 349, 366, 388; (vol. 2): 49, 67, 83–4 Laurens, P. (vol. 1): 33–4 Lausberg, M. (vol. 1): 222, 240; (vol. 2): 31, 119, 154, 192 Lazzeri, M. (vol. 2): 120, 128

336

Index auctorum

Lazzi, G. (vol. 1): 56 Leach, E. W. (vol. 2): 230 Lecocq, F. (vol. 1): 301, 358; (vol. 2): 172 Ledentu, M. (vol. 2): 24–5 Lee, A. G. (vol. 1): 79 Lehmann, Y. (vol. 2): 132 Leigh, M. (vol. 1): 267, 271 Leinweber, D. W. (vol. 1): 280–2 Lejay, P. (vol. 1): 77, 102, 163, 183, 189 Lenz, F. W. (vol. 2): 16 Leotta, R. (vol. 1): 57 Létoublon, F. (vol. 1): 271 Lévi, N. (vol. 1): 275 Levi-Strauss, C. (vol. 2): 84 Levy, F. W. (vol. 2): 16 Liberman, G. (vol. 1): 77–215 (passim); (vol. 2): 95 Librán, M. (vol. 1): 54 Lieberg, G. (vol. 1): 37, 145, 222, 243, 252, 266–7, 296 Liénard, E. (vol. 2): 90, 92 Lindemann, H. (vol. 1): 197, 208 Lindheim, S. H. (vol. 1): 320, 338, 373 Lingenberg, W. (vol. 2): 78 Little, D.A. (vol. 1): 35, 235 Liveley, G. (vol. 1): 298, 368 Loehr, J. (vol. 1): 297, 384 Lohr, C. H. (vol. 1): 13, 46 Lombardo, S. (vol. 1): 216 Longo, V. (vol. 1): 302 López Barja de Quiroga, P. M. (vol. 1): 329; (vol. 2): 305 López Gregoris, R. (vol. 2): 81 López López, M. (vol. 1): 292, 295–6, 301 López Torrijos, R. (vol. 2): 317 López-Cañete Quiles, D. (vol. 2): 48, 262 Lorch, L. (vol. 1): 299; (vol. 2): 46 Lorenz, S. (vol. 2): 243 Lorenzetti, E. (vol. 1): 376; (vol. 2): 117 Louden, D. B. (vol. 1): 333 Lovatt, H. (vol. 2): 266 Lowe, D. (vol. 2): 37, 77, 202 Lowrie, M. (vol. 1): 270, 327 Lucifora, R. M. (vol. 2): 116, 195, 239 Luck, G. (vol. 1): 77–215 (passim), 254, 278, 282–3, 321 Lundström, S. (vol. 1): 327, 329 Lüneburg, A. (vol. 2): 15 Luque Moreno, J. (vol. 2): 83, 268 Luther, A. (vol. 1): 320 Lyne, R. O. A. M. (vol. 2): 72–3, 143

Ma, J. (vol. 1): 389 Mack, S. (vol. 1): 222, 378; (vol. 2): 67, 118, 187, 196 Mader, G. (vol. 1): 243, 372; (vol. 2): 49, 69, 71, 117, 259 Madvig, I. N. (vol. 1): 120, 127, 132, 144, 158, 163, 168, 172, 190 Maggiulli, G. (vol. 2): 173, 187, 211 Magnani, A. (vol. 2): 239 Magnelli, E. (vol. 2): 142, 156, 253, 284 Magnus, H. (vol. 1): 78, 83, 85–6, 89, 91, 93, 95, 97, 100, 105–6, 108, 110, 112–13, 131, 139, 141, 144, 151, 158–60, 162, 167–9, 171–4, 176, 178–81, 183–6, 188, 191, 194, 197–8, 202, 205, 209–11, 213–14, 218; (vol. 2): 88 Maier, F. (vol. 1): 270, 338, 340 Mainero, J. S. (vol. 1): 274, 327; (vol. 2): 125 Makowski, J. F. (vol. 1): 356, 357, 371, 376 Malamud, M. (vol. 2): 246–7 Maleuvre, J. Y. (vol. 1): 326, 332 Malochet-Turquety, H. (vol. 1): 330, 335 Mañas Núñez, M. (vol. 2): 279 Manfron, A. (vol. 1): 56 Männlein-Robert, I. (vol. 2): 32 Marchese, R. R. (vol. 2): 261 Marcilius, T. (vol. 1): 181 Marder, E. (vol. 1): 370 Maréchaux, P. (vol. 1): 222 Marié, M.-A. (vol. 1): 388 Markland, J. (vol. 1): 89, 138, 148, 152, 181 Marks, R. D. (vol. 1): 330 Martel Bravo, G. (vol. 1): 54 Martelli, F. (vol. 1): 333 Martín Llanos, P. (vol. 1): 369; (vol. 2): 69, 71, 120 Martín Puente, C. (vol. 2): 81, 195 Martín Rodríguez, A. M.ª (vol. 2): 106 Martin, C. (vol. 1): 216 Martin, P. M. (vol. 1): 331 Martin, R. (vol. 1): 34 Martindale, C. (vol. 2): 233 Martínez Astorino, P. (vol. 1): 239, 267, 296–8, 323, 330, 332–3, 335–6, 339, 373, 376, 385; (vol. 2): 122, 130, 198 Maselli, G. (vol. 2): 250 Maso, S. (vol. 2): 132 Massa-Pairault, F.-H. (vol. 1): 264, 331, 337 Massaro, M. (vol. 1): 77 Masselli, G. M. (vol. 1): 282 Mattern, S. (vol. 1): 335

Index auctorum Matuszewski, R. (vol. 1): 268 Mazzilli, C. (vol. 2): 252 Mazzoli, G. (vol. 1): 252, 284; (vol. 2): 234, 239 McAuley, M. (vol. 1): 365, 387 McCarter, S. (vol. 2): 156, 191 McCarty, W. L. (vol. 1): 46, 227, 283; (vol. 2): 32 McClintock, A. (vol. 1): 390; (vol. 2): 121 McGill, S. C. (vol. 2): 242 McGowan, M. M. (vol. 1): 302–3; (vol. 2): 272, 278 McGrath, E. (vol. 2): 316 McGuire, M. R. P. (vol. 2): 15 McKim, R. (vol. 1): 293, 296, 298–99 McNamara, J. (vol. 2): 43, 69, 71 McNelis, C. (vol. 2): 236 McQuillan, A. P. (vol. 1): 55 Mecklenburg, M. (vol. 2): 304 Mehler, E. (vol. 1): 126 Melville, A. D. (vol. 1): 321 Mendner, S. (vol. 1): 139 Menichetti, M. (vol. 1): 388 Mentzel-Reuters, A. (vol. 1): 56 Merkel, R. (vol. 1): 79, 81, 84, 87, 92, 99–100, 102, 104–6, 121, 123, 126, 131, 133, 135, 137, 139, 140–1, 148, 154–5, 157, 162, 163–4, 168–9, 172, 174, 177, 179, 183–4, 188, 191, 197–8, 202–3, 207, 211, 214, 218 Merli, E. (vol. 1): 228, 235, 237 Merriam, C. U. (vol. 1): 345, 363–4 Meulder, M. L. (vol. 1): 265, 324 Meursius, I. (vol. 1): 204 Michalopoulos, A. (vol. 2): 51, 53, 146 Micyllus, I. (vol. 1): 101, 116, 147, 161 Mignacca, O. (vol. 2): 260 Milewska-Waźbińska, B. (vol. 1): 40 Miller, J. F. (vol. 1): 216, 218, 263, 303, 329, 334; (vol. 2): 43, 80, 85, 102, 119, 167–8, 171, 231, 235, 310 Miller, N. J. (vol. 1): 369 Milowicki, E. J. (vol. 1): 305 Mindt, N. (vol. 1): 40–1 Minotti, F. (vol. 2): 231 Möhler, G. (vol. 2): 88–9 Möllendorff, P. von (vol. 2): 287 Mommsen, P. (vol. 1): 293 Monaco, G. (vol. 1): 265 Montuschi, C. (vol. 1): 384; (vol. 2): 68, 281–2

337

Moreno Soldevila, R. (vol. 1): 38; (vol. 2): 35, 250 Morgan, L. (vol. 1): 362; (vol. 2): 144, 254 Moro, C. (vol. 2): 275 Morzadec, F. (vol. 1): 306; (vol. 2): 267 Mosci Sassi, M. G. (vol. 1): 124 Moser, M. (vol. 1): 294 Most, G. W. (vol. 1): 31, 201 Muccioli, G. M. (vol. 1): 56 Müller, D. (vol. 1): 334 Müller, L. (vol. 1): 84; (vol. 2): 90, 94 Müller, M. E. (vol. 2): 304 Müller-Reineke, H. (vol. 1): 344; (vol. 2): 239 Munari, F. (vol. 1): 53, 57 Munk Olsen, B. (vol. 1): 54, 57 Murcia, E. (vol. 1): 54, 130, 132, 135–6 Murgatroyd, P. (vol. 1): 379; (vol. 2): 69, 70, 121 Murgia, C. E. (vol. 1): 83, 117 Murray, P. (vol. 1): 252 Musgrove, M. W. (vol. 1): 227; (vol. 2): 117–18, 194 Mutschler, F.-H. (vol. 1): 336 Myers, K. S. (vol. 1): 14, 193–4, 196–7, 200, 202, 239–40, 248, 252, 294–7, 300–1, 304–5, 323–5, 331, 337; (vol. 2): 51, 109, 122, 144, 156, 169–70, 208, 219, 224 Nabielek, M. (vol. 1): 297, 304 Nadeau, Y. (vol. 1): 329, 378 Nagle, B. R. (vol. 1): 13, 344–5, 366; (vol. 2): 69 Nagore, J. (vol. 2): 252 Nagyillés, J. (vol. 2): 246 Nardelli, M. (vol. 2): 230 Nasse, C. (vol. 1): 267, 269 Natoli, B. A. (vol. 1): 340 Naugerius, A. (vol. 1): 79, 80, 83–5, 87, 89–92, 96–98, 100–1, 107, 111, 113, 116, 118–20, 122, 125–31, 133–5, 137, 141, 146–9, 151, 153, 155–6, 158–9, 162, 166, 171–6, 178–80, 182, 191, 193–4, 196–7, 200, 209–11, 212, 214 Navarro Antolín, F. (vol. 1): 55, 216, 218 Nelis, D. P. (vol. 1): 279, 294, 297, 301, 332; (vol. 2): 130–1, 145, 172, 247 Nelson, M. (vol. 1): 284 Néraudau, J. P. (vol. 1): 304, 326 Neschke, A. (vol. 1): 272 Neuru, L. L. (vol. 1): 251

338

Index auctorum

Newlands, C. E. (vol. 1): 35, 222, 235, 241, 272; (vol. 2): 36, 42, 126, 147, 224, 231, 235, 266, 310 Newmyer, S. T. (vol. 1): 385; (vol. 2): 130, 132 Newton, F. (vol. 1): 58 Nicaise, S. (vol. 1): 371 Nicastri, L. (vol. 2): 233, 278 Nicgorski, A. A. (vol. 1): 282 Nick, G. (vol. 1): 137 Nickel, R. (vol. 2): 261 Nicolas, C. (vol. 2): 79–80 Nicolini, L. (vol. 1): 248; (vol. 2): 238–40 Nicoll, W. S. M. (vol. 1): 238, 377; (vol. 2): 72, 75, 146, 191 Nikitas, D. Z. (vol. 2): 153, 159, 277 Nikitinski, O. (vol. 2): 253 Nikolopoulos, A. D. (vol. 1): 236, 284, 387 Nisbet, R. G. M. (vol. 2): 15, 65 Noorden, H. van (vol. 1): 297, 303 Norden, E. (vol. 1): 152 Novara, A. (vol. 1): 334 Nowack, A. (vol. 1): 384 Nugent, S. G. (vol. 1): 355, 369 O’Bryhim, S. (vol. 1): 248, 269 O’Connor, J. F. (vol. 2): 119, 128 O’Hara, J. J. (vol. 1): 237, 239, 265 Obbink, D. (vol. 1): 297 Oberrauch, L. (vol. 1): 303; (vol. 2): 130 Offermann, H. (vol. 2): 84–5 Ogden, D. (vol. 1): 280–1 Okáčová, M. (vol. 2): 273 Oliensis, E. (vol. 1): 330 Oller, M. (vol. 1): 268; (vol. 2): 230 Onorato, M. (vol. 1): 229 Ormand, K. (vol. 1): 348–9, 371 Otis, B. (vol. 1): 13, 238; (vol. 2): 35, 73, 184, 327 Ott, W. (vol. 2): 88 Owen, S. G. (vol. 1): 204 Paduano, G. (vol. 1): 218 Palmer, A. (vol. 1): 198 Pàmias, J. (vol. 1): 267; (vol. 2): 132 Pandey, N. (vol. 1): 324, 327, 334, 337–8 Panitschek, P. (vol. 1): 302 Papaioannou, S. (vol. 1): 240, 265, 293, 299, 333, 372, 378; (vol. 2): 32, 56, 117–18, 120, 122, 155, 185, 195, 247

Papanghelis, T. D. (vol. 1): 247; (vol. 2): 20, 82, 120, 152, 208, 211, 218 Pappa, P. (vol. 2): 116 Papponetti, G. (vol. 1): 40 Pardini, A. (vol. 1): 270 Parkes, R. (vol. 2): 266 Parroni, P. (vol. 1): 33; (vol. 2): 125, 259, 262 Paschalis, M. (vol. 1): 117, 339, 345, 355, 367, 376–7; (vol. 2): 56, 66, 68, 126, 200, 204, 218, 289–90 Pasetti, L. (vol. 1): 40–1; (vol. 2): 78, 81–2 Paterni, M. (vol. 2): 246 Patrick, R. B. (vol. 1): 28–9, 306; (vol. 2): 36 Patti, M. (vol. 1): 242; (vol. 2): 117, 120 Pavlock, B. (vol. 1): 223, 298 Payne, M. (vol. 1): 304 Pechillo, M. (vol. 1): 242, 246 Peek, P. S. (vol. 1): 373, 377, 384 Peirano, I. (vol. 2): 262 Pellacani, D. (vol. 1): 40–1 Pellegrin, É. (vol. 1): 55, 57 Pellizer, E. (vol. 2): 104, 286 Pena, M.ª J. (vol. 1): 268; (vol. 2): 230 Penna, A. La (vol. 1): 27–8, 235, 336, 355; (vol. 2): 149, 260 Peraki-Kyriakidou, E. (vol. 1): 265 Pérez Gómez, L. (vol. 2): 72–3 Pérez Vega, A. (vol. 1): 46, 239, 347 Perret, J. (vol. 2): 92 Perutelli, A. (vol. 1): 34, 218, 283; (vol. 2): 152, 187, 251 Petersen, O. (vol. 1): 261 Petersmann, H. (vol. 1): 150, 264 Petitus, S. (vol. 1): 180 Phillips, C. R. (vol. 1): 35–6, 273 Phillips, O. (vol. 1): 279–80 Phillips, R. L. (vol. 1): 283 Pianezzola, E. (vol. 1): 14, 235, 254 Pice, N. (vol. 2): 41 Pillinger, E. (vol. 1): 390 Pintabone, D. T. (vol. 1): 348, 371 Plate, R. (vol. 1): 57 Platnauer, M. (vol. 2): 88, 90 Podosinov, A. V. (vol. 2): 133 Polle, F. (vol. 1): 88, 107, 127, 134, 136–7, 142, 147, 156, 162–3, 167–8, 186, 207 Polleichtner, W. (vol. 2): 116–18, 121 Polymerakis, F. K. (vol. 2): 272 Porte, D. (vol. 1): 330

Index auctorum Pöschl, V. (vol. 2): 26 Possanza, L. (vol. 1): 77–9, 81, 87, 89–90, 97, 100–1, 106–7, 114, 120, 130, 134, 141, 143–4, 148, 151, 155, 161, 163, 167, 170–1, 174–6, 178, 180, 182, 191–2, 194–6, 198, 201, 205 Postgate, J. P. (vol. 1): 85, 104, 114, 137, 147, 157, 163, 179, 187, 201, 205, 210 Pötscher, W. (vol. 1): 293 Poucet, J. (vol. 1): 46 Powitz, G. (vol. 1): 55 Poznanski, L. (vol. 1): 264, 330 Pratt, M. L. (vol. 1): 320 Preibisch, P. (vol. 1): 208 Primmer, A. (vol. 1): 222, 273 Prioux, É. (vol. 2): 241 Privitera, T. (vol. 1): 333 Pulbrook, M. (vol. 1): 107, 108, 140 Purnelle, G. (vol. 2): 90 Putnam, M. C. (vol. 1): 297 Pyy, E. (vol. 1): 388 Quicherat, L. (vol. 2): 16 Raeburn, D. (vol. 1): 216 Ramírez de Verger, A. (vol. 1): 38, 42, 55, 58, 77–215 (passim), 216, 218 Rappenglück, B. (vol. 1): 324 Rappold, J. (vol. 1): 134, 185, 196 Ratti, S. (vol. 1): 115 Raval, S. (vol. 1): 241, 348, 353, 356, 366–7, 371; (vol. 2): 47, 55, 84, 153, 220 Rebeggiani, S. (vol. 1): 147 Rebenich, S. (vol. 1): 330 Redmond, S. M. (vol. 1): 263, 270, 328, 339 Reed, J. D. (vol. 1): 58, 156–8, 160–2, 168–71, 174–5, 219 Regius, R. (vol. 1): 84, 88, 94, 96, 98, 113, 118, 179, 183, 213 Reinhardt, U. (vol. 1): 115 Reinhout, L. (vol. 1): 55 Reitz, C. (vol. 1): 249, 390; (vol. 2): 48 Relihan, J. C. (vol. 1): 77 Rhorer, C. C. (vol. 1): 325; (vol. 2): 79–80, 188 Richardson, J. (vol. 2): 40 Richlin, A. (vol. 1): 339, 353 Richmond, J. (vol. 1): 83, 94, 108, 110, 136, 140–4, 179, 199, 210 Rieger, E. (vol. 1): 383 Rieks, R. (vol. 1): 13, 227

339

Riese, A. (vol. 1): 79, 80, 87, 89, 95, 114, 123, 128, 138, 149, 157, 159, 163, 167, 171, 181, 190, 201, 206, 213 Rimell, V. (vol. 1): 349; (vol. 2): 77 Ringleben, J. (vol. 1): 346 Rink, A. (vol. 1): 224 Río Torres-Murciano, A. (vol. 2): 202, 270 Riou, Y.-F. (vol. 1): 56 Ritoók, Z. (vol. 2): 126 Rivero García, L. (vol. 1): 41, 55, 152, 160, 178–92 (passim); (vol. 2): 94, 279 Roberts, M. (vol. 2): 235, 276–80, 283 Robinson, D. M. (vol. 1): 372 Robinson, M. (vol. 1): 355, 369; (vol. 2): 51, 105 Rocca, S. (vol. 1): 296, 306 Roche, P. (vol. 1): 305 Rodriquez, M. T. (vol. 2): 280 Romeo, A. (vol. 1): 162, 240, 243 Roncali, R. (vol. 2): 221, 260 Ronconi, A. (vol. 2): 233, 235 Rosalia, A. de (vol. 1): 37 Rosati, G. (vol. 1): 27, 30–1, 58, 96–7, 99, 104, 107, 110–15, 117, 119, 121–3, 219, 227, 236, 276, 293, 302, 321, 338–9, 344; (vol. 2): 21–2, 28, 47, 102, 122, 145, 149, 194, 208, 231, 250, 267, 274, 282, 327 Rösch, E. (vol. 1): 218 Roscher, W. H. (vol. 1): 101 Rosiello, F. (vol. 1): 242; (vol. 2): 79 Rosner-Siegel, J. A. (vol. 1): 280, 347; (vol. 2): 33 Rossi, E. (vol. 1): 365 Roy, B. (vol. 1): 54 Rubio, L. (vol. 1): 54 Ruiz Arzálluz, Í. (vol. 2): 94 Ruiz de Elvira, A. (vol. 1): 218 Ruiz Sánchez, M. (vol. 1): 355; (vol. 2): 35, 250 Rupp, S. J. (vol. 2): 234, 239, 272 Rutherford, I. (vol. 1): 240 Saavedra, A. M. de (vol. 1): 218 Sabot, A. (vol. 1): 347 Sacks, E. S. (vol. 1): 228 Said, E. (vol. 1): 320 Salemme, C. (vol. 2): 248 Salmasius, C. (vol. 1): 196 Salvadori, M. (vol. 1): 306; (vol. 2): 120, 231–2 Salvagnius, D. (vol. 1): 130

340

Index auctorum

Salvo, G. (vol. 1): 295, 329; (vol. 2): 105–6, 230–2, 234, 317 Salzman, M. R. (vol. 1): 273, 330 Salzman-Mitchell, P. B. (vol. 1): 364 Sanctius ‘Brocensis’, F. (vol. 1): 80 Sandin, P. (vol. 1): 208 Santamaría Álvarez, M. A. (vol. 1): 298 Santini, C. (vol. 1): 13, 240; (vol. 2): 154, 187, 270 Santoro, S. (vol. 2): 231 Sauron, G. (vol. 1): 262; (vol. 2): 230 Saylor, C. (vol. 2): 246 Scalon, C. (vol. 1): 56 Scarcia, R. (vol. 1): 269 Schade, G. (vol. 2): 91, 185 Schawaller, D. (vol. 2): 66 Scheid, J. (vol. 1): 296 Schepperus, I. (vol. 1): 101, 103, 108, 113, 133, 180 Schiesaro, A. (vol. 1): 31, 267, 294, 299, 301, 327; (vol. 2): 173, 259 Schindler, W. (vol. 1): 224, 275 Schmidt, E. A. (vol. 1): 14, 58, 296, 298–9, 335, 344; (vol. 2): 26, 41, 72, 74 Schmidt, R. (vol. 1): 58 Schmitz, C. (vol. 1): 229, 345; (vol. 2): 27 Schmitz-Emans, M. (vol. 1): 252 Schmitzer, U. (vol. 1): 14, 25–6, 40–1, 45, 227, 252, 292, 295, 301, 324–5, 330–1, 333, 335; (vol. 2): 26, 43, 102, 131, 217, 317 Schneeweiss, B. (vol. 1): 296; (vol. 2): 131 Scholl, W. (vol. 2): 149, 223, 281 Scholz, I. (vol. 1): 383 Schoor, D. van (vol. 1): 294–5, 377; (vol. 2): 171 Schrader, J. (vol. 1): 158 Schubert, W. (vol. 1): 40; (vol. 2): 68, 308, 324 Schulte, G. (vol. 2): 89 Schulz, M. W. (vol. 2): 64 Schwind, J. (vol. 2): 280 Schwindt, J. P. (vol. 1): 300; (vol. 2): 169 Scivoletto, N. (vol. 1): 13, 58, 78–9, 84, 88–90, 93–4, 104, 106, 114, 116, 120, 122, 124, 126–7, 131–2, 135, 138, 142, 150–2, 157–61, 166–70, 172–4, 177–8, 181, 192, 195–6, 199, 201–3 Scoditti, F. (vol. 1): 388 Scotti, M. (vol. 2): 238 Scully, S. (vol. 1): 297

Segal, C. P. (vol. 1): 39, 219, 235, 237, 251–2, 262–3, 274, 278–80, 294, 297, 300–1, 323, 347, 352, 362, 370; (vol. 2): 83, 125, 151, 168, 172, 187, 195, 258 Seiringer, I. (vol. 1): 307; (vol. 2): 76 Seng, H. (vol. 1): 40–1, 242; (vol. 2): 127 Senis, G. (vol. 1): 57 Serpa, F. (vol. 2): 15 Setaioli, A. (vol. 1): 302–3; (vol. 2): 130–1, 171, 252 Shackleton Bailey, D. R. (vol. 1): 81, 85, 90, 102, 121–2, 140, 146–8, 150–5, 159, 161–2, 165, 168–9, 174, 176–7, 187, 195, 198, 202, 208; (vol. 2): 65, 252 Shailor, B. (vol. 1): 56 Sharrock, A. R. (vol. 1): 84, 224, 237, 331, 338–9, 354, 357, 367, 372; (vol. 2): 47, 122 Shelton, C. R. (vol. 2): 51 Siciliano, R. (vol. 2): 246 Siebelis, J. (vol. 1): 162, 168, 190 Silberman, L. (vol. 1): 369 Silk, M. (vol. 1): 302 Simmons, C. (vol. 1): 190 Simon, E. (vol. 1): 326; (vol. 2): 231 Simon, M. (vol. 1): 28 Simons, B. (vol. 2): 190, 324 Simons, R. (vol. 2): 147, 276 Simpson, M. (vol. 1): 216 Sissa, G. (vol. 1): 293, 303 Slater, D. A. (vol. 1): 79, 80, 83, 86, 91, 99, 101, 104–5, 107, 109, 122, 124–6, 128, 132, 141–3, 147, 149, 152–3, 155, 158, 166–8, 170, 172, 183, 185, 187–9, 193, 202–3, 205, 211, 213 Slavazzi, F. (vol. 1): 327; (vol. 2): 230 Smith, C. S. (vol. 2): 74 Smith, R. A. (vol. 2): 118, 202–3 Śnieżewski, S. (vol. 1): 334 Solimano, G. (vol. 2): 167 Solodow, J. B. (vol. 1): 13, 92, 186, 235, 244, 302, 378; (vol. 2): 22, 194 Sommariva, G. (vol. 2): 252 Somville, P. (vol. 1): 272 Sonderegger, E. (vol. 1): 54, 94–103 (passim) Soubiran, J. (vol. 1): 328 Spahlinger, L. (vol. 1): 296–7; (vol. 2): 20 Spencer, H. L. (vol. 1): 57 Spencer, R. A. (vol. 1): 223, 384 Spina, L. (vol. 2): 118 Stadler, H. (vol. 1): 169–70, 247; (vol. 2): 75, 90

Index auctorum Stähli, M. (vol. 1): 56 Starzyński, M. (vol. 1): 55 Staubach, N. (vol. 1): 57 Stein, G. (vol. 1): 364 Steinkühler, M. (vol. 1): 261, 270 Stirrup, B. E. (vol. 2): 72–3 Stok, F. (vol. 1): 13, 264, 333; (vol. 2): 126, 150, 259 Stornajolo, C. (vol. 1): 55 Stramaglia, A. (vol. 2): 146, 230 Stratenwerth, D. (vol. 1): 323; (vol. 2): 122, 173, 195 Stucchi, S. (vol. 1): 304; (vol. 2): 31, 81 Suárez del Río, Á. (vol. 1): 54, 94–103 (passim) Subias-Konofal, V. (vol. 1): 239, 268, 281 Suchier, R. (vol. 1): 64 Sullivan, J. P. (vol. 2): 250 Suter, A. (vol. 1): 370; (vol. 2): 48, 106 Syed, Y. (vol. 1): 239, 248; (vol. 2): 47, 121, 146, 207 Syme, R. (vol. 2): 327 Szelest, H. (vol. 2): 250 Tabacco, R. (vol. 1): 157, 175; (vol. 2): 40 Taliercio, A. (vol. 1): 248 Tamás, Á. (vol. 1): 294 Tarrant, R. J. (vol. 1): 42, 54–5, 58–9, 77–215 (passim), 218–19, 223, 298, 385; (vol. 2): 14, 88, 219, 235, 246, 258–9, 326 Tempone, P. (vol. 2): 241 Ternes, C.-M. (vol. 1): 323 Thakur, S. (vol. 1): 331 Thomas, J. (vol. 1): 344 Thome, G. (vol. 1): 225 Thumiger, C. (vol. 1): 387 Tillette, J.-Y. (vol. 1): 303 Tissol, G. (vol. 1): 30, 227, 248, 294, 306, 320–1, 331, 334, 373, 377; (vol. 2): 17, 55, 144, 184, 193, 209, 224, 235, 280 Töchterle, K. (vol. 2): 72–3 Todini, U. (vol. 1): 298, 303, 333; (vol. 2): 168, 207, 254 Tola, E. (vol. 1): 222; (vol. 2): 47–8, 86, 224 Tomkins, L. (vol. 1): 384 Tomlinson, C. (vol. 1): 222 Tordoff, R. (vol. 2): 240 Toribio, P. (vol. 1): 54 Torre, C. (vol. 1): 302, 388; (vol. 2): 261 Torres, J. B. (vol. 2): 284, 287 Torricelli, P. (vol. 2): 85, 171

341

Tournier, E. (vol. 1): 139 Tränkle, H. (vol. 2): 94 Tremouille, M. C. (vol. 1): 55 Trepat, A. M. (vol. 1): 218 Tronchet, G. (vol. 2): 34, 242 Tsagalis, C. (vol. 2): 119, 128 Tsai, S.-C. K. (vol. 2): 275 Tsitsiou-Chelidoni, C. (vol. 1): 201; (vol. 2): 23, 54, 72, 75, 117 Tupet, A.-M. (vol. 1): 265, 278, 280–1; (vol. 2): 121 Uggenti, A. L. (vol. 1): 337 Unger, R. (vol. 1): 157 Urbán, Á. (vol. 2): 280 Urban, D. (vol. 1): 329 Uría Varela, J. (vol. 1): 270 Usener, H. (vol. 1): 175 Vandersmissen, M. (vol. 1): 354 Vanhaegendoren, K. (vol. 1): 79, 329 Vaquerizo Gil, D. (vol. 2): 230 Verheykius, H. (vol. 1): 119 Versnel, H. S. (vol. 1): 269, 275 VerSteeg, R. (vol. 1): 377 Vesley, M. E. (vol. 1): 298 Vial, H. (vol. 1): 28–9, 224, 243, 262, 302, 327, 339, 387; (vol. 2): 32, 43, 48, 240, 325 Viarre, S. (vol. 1): 223, 262, 365 Vidal Pérez, J. L. (vol. 2): 17, 199, 322 Videau, A. (vol. 1): 28–9, 235, 293–4, 387; (vol. 2): 49, 86 Vielberg, M. (vol. 1): 295 Villa, C. (vol. 1): 57 Villarrubia, A. (vol. 2): 289 Vinchesi, M. A. (vol. 2): 264 Visser, T. (vol. 2): 133 Vivo, A. De (vol. 1): 39, 40, 81; (vol. 2): 261 Voit, L. (vol. 1): 324, 333 Volk, K. (vol. 1): 27, 295, 301 Vollmer, F. (vol. 2): 16 Vos, R. L. (vol. 1): 272 Voss, J. H. (vol. 1): 216, 384 Vulikh, N. V. (vol. 2): 230 Wakefield, G. (vol. 1): 14 Walde, C. (vol. 1): 264, 379 Waldner, K. (vol. 1): 264, 321, 332 Walker, J. (vol. 1): 357, 372 Wallace-Hadrill, A. (vol. 1): 327 Walsh, L. (vol. 2): 259

342

Index auctorum

Walsh, T. (vol. 1): 86–7, 135–6, 208 Walter, A. (vol. 1): 262 Wasyl, A. M. (vol. 2): 276 Watkins, O. D. (vol. 1): 376 Watson, P. (vol. 2): 79 Watt, W. S. (vol. 1): 80, 90–1, 100, 105, 114, 121, 124, 133, 135, 147, 150–2, 158, 163, 168–9, 187, 192, 197–8, 201, 208–10, 214 Wattel-De Croizant, O. (vol. 2): 133 Weber, C. (vol. 2): 66 Weber, G. (vol. 1): 225 Wehmeier, P. M. (vol. 1): 388 Weiss, H. (vol. 1): 261 Wenzel, M. (vol. 1): 225, 270, 305, 370 Werbeke, N. (vol. 1): 56 West, M. L. (vol. 2): 287, 289 Westerhold, J. A. (vol. 1): 355, 368 Westra, H. J. (vol. 1): 378 Wheeler, S. M. (vol. 1): 228, 252, 295–302, 322, 332, 335, 339–40, 357; (vol. 2): 24–5, 51, 55, 130, 153, 160, 170, 222, 235, 237, 242, 245, 249, 274, 277–8, 282 White, H. (vol. 1): 124, 128, 134, 138, 142, 145, 151, 155 White, P. (vol. 1): 35–6, 336 Wickkiser, B. L. (vol. 1): 335–6 Wilhelm, M. P. (vol. 1): 347; (vol. 2): 54, 150 Wilhelm, R. M. (vol. 1): 297–8; (vol. 2): 122, 146, 169 Wilhelmi, T. (vol. 1): 55 Wilkens, M. (vol. 1): 323, 329 Williams, C. A. (vol. 1): 338–9; (vol. 2): 235, 250 Williams, F. (vol. 1): 328; (vol. 2): 147, 158 Williams, G. D. (vol. 1): 14, 281, 320, 321, 325, 329; (vol. 2): 221 Wills, J. (vol. 2): 15, 65–6, 93, 147, 158 Wilson, M. (vol. 2): 263 Winbolt, S. E. (vol. 2): 90

Winter, U. (vol. 1): 55 Wise, V. (vol. 1): 281 Wissmüller, H. (vol. 1): 222 Withof, J. H. (vol. 1): 121, 203 Wittchow, F. (vol. 1): 225; (vol. 2): 21 Wittstock, O. (vol. 1): 383 Wöhrmann, J. (vol. 2): 133 Wójtowicz, H. (vol. 2): 281 Wolkenhauer, A. (vol. 1): 298, 300; (vol. 2): 122 Woytek, E. (vol. 1): 247; (vol. 2): 47 Wray, D. (vol. 2): 169 Wright, S. (vol. 1): 266 Wright, T. L. (vol. 2): 269 Wülfing, P. (vol. 2): 72, 74 Young, E. M. (vol. 1): 274 Zagórski, M. (vol. 1): 325 Zajko, V. (vol. 1): 356, 369 Zanker, P. (vol. 1): 325, 339 Zatta, C. (vol. 1): 298 Zehnacker, H. (vol. 1): 33, 42; (vol. 2): 76–7, 125, 253 Zetzel, J. E. G. (vol. 1): 34, 42 Zimmerman, C. (vol. 2): 132, 148–9, 231, 289 Zinn, E. (vol. 1): 235 Ziogas, I. (vol. 1): 240, 297, 340; (vol. 2): 117, 122–3 Zissos, A. (vol. 1): 101–2, 231, 237, 239, 300, 322, 386; (vol. 2): 69, 70, 72, 75, 125, 259 Zoccola, V. (vol. 1): 119 Zurli, L. (vol. 1): 114, 122, 142, 158, 174, 196, 201–2, 214 Zwierlein, O. (vol. 1): 83, 117, 141, 144–5, 196, 201, 211 Zyl Smit, B. van (vol. 1): 346