Parc de Versailles, Rond-Point des Philosophes. Apollonius de Tyane en terme, Barthélémy de Mélo (1685-1687), marbre.
First Century Miracle Worker
Gerard Boter (ed.), Flavius Philostratus: Vita Appolonii Tyanei, 2022. DeGruyter. Pp. I-LXIII, 1-322. $91.99.
Gerard Boter (ed.), Critical Notes on Philostratus’ Life of Apollonius of Tyana. 2023. DeGruyter. Pp. I-VIII, 1-317. $131.99.
Reviewed by Darrell Sutton
Gerard Boter (GB), Professor Emeritus at Vrije Universiteit (Amsterdam), devoted decades to studying the Greek texts of Plato and Epictetus. This preparation suited him well. At the present time his research is directed towards the ‘Life’ of Apollonius (c.AD15-100). These two volumes published by GB are the results of his focused investigations. They are required reading for a proper study of the Pythagorean teacher from Cappadocia.
The oral lore surrounding Apollonius appears in many literary shapes and forms. The travelogue of his journeys is of particular interest and is as intriguing as the details in Herodotus’ books. Just as other ancient tales do, these accounts merit close reading and critical examination. People revered him as their master-teacher. His birth and life, reportedly, were superintended by the Egyptian deity, Proteus. Apollonius is described as a first century wonder worker whose induction into varied bodies of philosophical knowledge, and initiation into mysteries, stood him in the forefront of theoretical teachers of his day. Although he imposed upon himself rigors of numerous kinds, his teachings were uncomplicated. He did not drink wine. He opposed animal sacrifices, believed in a transcendent deity, held views on eternal existence that were common; but what made Apollonius atypical at the time was the rumored presence of a daemon through which he made fortuitous predictions of an extraordinary kind, and wrought wonders. Writers tended to associate bodily cures with gifted sages in antiquity. As recorded, Apollonius even raised a young maiden from the dead. The manner of his death is shrouded in conjecture. Presumably he lived to be an old man, some say nearly a hundred years of age. Legends about him abound.
I
The Latin Praefatio of Vita Apollonii Tyanei (VAT) is lucid. GB put forward two preliminary studies that were marked by originality and light: 1) ‘Towards a New Critical Edition of Philostratus’ Life of Apollonius: The Affiliation of the Manuscripts’/2) ‘Studies in the Textual Tradition of Philostratus’ Life of Apollonius of Tyana’. Others will agree with him when he says of those pieces, duobus studiis annis 2009 et 2014 in lucem emissi (p.vii). Quite a few mss of the VAT are extant. He says they can be divided into two families: Codices divisi sunt in familias duas (p.viii). An editio princeps appeared in 1501 (p.xv). Several scholars appended notes to the texts, trying to elucidate them (pp.xix-xx). In GB’s estimation the first truly critical edition appeared in 1844 when C.L. Kayser edited the VAT, … primus editionem vere criticam composuit (p.xvi). Kayser issued a smaller edition in 1870. The Greekness of Philostratus’ life appealed to GB. It is foundational to his reasons for editing it (p.xxiv). The trend for some time now has been to construct a negative critical apparatus. As GB says Apparatus quoad fieri poeterat negativus est…, the apparatus is negative in so far as it can be done that way, i.e., the variant readings are noted, but it is not stated from which sources the reading is found in the received text. I do not like this method. It obscures the lines of transmission readers may be looking for. Thereafter is a Conspectus Librorum (pp.xxx-lv). The Conspectus Siglorum (pp.lvi-lxiii) are easy to sort through. Unattributed conjectures in the book were proposed by GB, coniecturae sine nomine auctoris mihi ipsi tribuendae sunt.
II
The Greek font used in this edition is clear and legible. The main sections of VAT are indented with boldfaced numbers. Resolving the connections between text and bottom-of-page notes is somewhat tedious. The format of GB’s Lectiones Variantes Minores will be puzzling to most people with its square bracketed divisions. The critical apparatus is orderly but cluttered with more detail on the opening verses of Book one from the Suda than any reader would need to understand the received text. Whatever is true or false in the Suda is anyone’s guess. GB issued his own cautions and suspicions on page XIV: Ita perraro fit ut Suda solus lectiones magna ponderis vel etiam veras praebeat. Attempts at restoring VAT’s original readings have been made by many scholars. And one must be grateful that their conjectures and variants from various manuscripts, as exhibited, are accessible and not entangled in a network of perplexing sigla.
At 4.13.1 the primary mss E F read ξυμβαινειν; but Laur. CS.155 has ξυνεμβαίνειν. Readers are told in his Critical Notes on Philostratus… (hence CN) that the former ‘cannot mean go together with someone’; although readers are not informed if that reading is idiomatic or if it at some point in ancient times conveyed that sense. However, that verb appears in classical Greek, Herodotus 1.32, and in Greek New Testament passages [Mk. 10.32, Lk.24.14, etc.], where it certainly denotes the sense of people or things ‘gathered together (for the performance of some deed)’.
An apparatus is crucial for defining the boundaries of transmission of Greek classical poetry and prose. Editors feel the need to justify the reasons for their investigations. Why this is so I have no idea. Research should be done because it needs doing. The usual procedure of an editor is to impeach the character of extant mss, pointing out their corrupt features, assigning to them the label ‘untrustworthy’. Marginalia, early and later hands at once are classified. To navigate the maze of variants an editor must make selections, thereby producing a critical text of restored readings that he or she believes is the original text or approximates to an archetype. For VAT and CN, GB’s text-critical philosophy is embodied in a formulaic belief:
‘if A agrees in word order with either E or F (Q) we can assume that the reading in A and in one of the branches of the second family represents the reading of the archetype (p.5).
III
A few points of detail regarding CN. The Introduction essentially provides an English sketch of VAT’s Praefatio. Either of them would have been sufficient for both volumes. There are 250 pages of critical notes. CN’s full title is Critical Notes on Philostratus’ Life of Apollonius of Tyana. In truth, the ‘critical notes’ are of uneven quality, and refer mostly to grammatical and textual matters, i.e. vindication of readings. Patristic writers here and there are cited. The notes in books 5 and 6 exhibit precision and outshine the others.
Historical details are managed with care: e.g. snake teeth at 3.7.2, p.95 and the altars at 5.5.1, p.171, but this entire critical enterprise is devoid of aesthetic analyses of sentence structures. Medieval textual representations should be inspected with caution. In rare cases where paleography is needed to disentangle ligatures or manuscript glyphs, GB does not hold back. On the other hand, when he engages in syntactical discussions, they are not always worthy of a De Gruyter edition. On the opening page of the comments readers encounter a note that models what is standard all the way to the end. At 1.1.1 (p.1.4) GB writes:
‘In the transmitted text, the infinitive θυσαί depends on καθαρεύοι and thus forms a sequel to the noun βρώσεως. I have not found instances of καθαρεύω followed by an infinitive which is not preceded by τοῦ(the addition of the article τοῦ before θυσαί in the Suda is an obvious conjecture) but the change of construction from βρώσεως to θυσαί fits in with Philostratus’ idiosyncratic syntax; Schmid 4.115-116 illustrates that Philostratus regularly coordinates syntactically different constituents (see also Schmid 4.524-526. The transition is somewhat softened by the intervening clause ὁπόση ἐμψύχων; and the infinitive may also anticipate the immediately following μὴ γὰρ αἱμάττειν τοὺς βωμούς. Kayser¹ suggested θυσίας in his apparatus; Kayser² printed it in his text, probably encouraged by Preller 1846, 466 n. and Scheibe 1847, 428.’
The foregoing comments contain hardly anything that illumine the meaning or background of the Greek words mentioned. Reading a Greek text is much like reading a newspaper in one’s native language. The comprehension of grammar is intuitive; either one understands what is read or does not. His commentary seems to be structured for individuals with small Greek who are attempting to decipher the text. He is acquainted with the relevant facts: he knows of traditions of Pythagoras’ visits to India (2.17.1; p.68) but GB is sparing with such data.
Yet he is capable of good work. His paraphrases are not bad; things are made better when he exploits the English renderings of other editions. He likes to initiate discussions about translations by explaining what a word does not mean (see 7.2.2) or by intimating that a literal rendering of a text is odd (1.14.2). Assertions of that kind merely clutter space. Translators of Greek words know that inflected idioms are capable of several meanings in the same setting, depending on how one rightly or wrongly construes their forms. Some Greek authors were scribal geniuses, other writers were less proficient.
GB identifies interpolations, deletes words and phrases often. He transposes words when he deems it necessary. And he finds it to be a necessity quite often. Nonetheless, his decisions are sensible. His conjectures do not mislead. His familiarity with how scholars had dealt with VAT in past and recent days is superb and he does not inadequately outline any of their thoughts. When Apollonius alludes to other Greek writers like Hesiod ((6.2.2, p.198) or Homer, GB tells us (see 8.5.3; p.256).
Even still, criticisms pile up quickly. For example, at 1.7.2 (p.7.13-14) one finds an astounding feat of scholarly divination when GB writes:
‘Although both the imperfect and aorist are possible here I think that the imperfect, transmitted by Eusebius, is preferable. Apollonius’ getting acquainted with Platonism, Stoicism and Epicureanism form the background to his getting involved with Pythagoreanism. The imperfects therefore suggest that he paid some attention to the other philosophical schools but that he only became deeply and thoroughly involved with Pythagoras’ doctrines, an activity which is referred to by means of the complexive aorist… ‘.
Only an innovative mind could derive so much ‘factual’ detail from an ‘imperfect’ and an ‘aorist’; but an imperfect can denote a ‘fixed idea’ sometimes. His argument is plausible, except those specific tenses do not betray in any time-based form the data he assumes to be present.
In another place, GB amazes. Conybeare’s 1912 Loeb edition has the below words:
[7.6] When moreover the news was brought how notable a purification of the goddess Hestia of the Romans [Vesta.] Domitian had carried out, by putting to death three of the Vestal virgins who had broken their vows and incurred the pollution of marriage, when it was their duty to minister in purity to the Athena of Ilion and to the fire which was worshipped in Rome, he exclaimed: “O Sun, would that thou couldst too be purified of the unjust murders with which the whole world is now filled.”
About this passage he was on the right track when he maintained that
‘The point at issue is that the three Vestal Virgins who were accused of having had sex were no longer pure themselves and one would expect this to be expressed by the adjective and not by the adverb.’
Immediately afterward GB stumbles at the interpretation of ἁγνῶς θεραπεύειν and avers
‘On the other hand, it might be argued that ἁγνῶς θεραπεύειν means that everything is done according to the strict rules of the cult of Vesta.’
Really? Again, he reaches a circumstantial conclusion that, lexically, is improbable. He accounts for the transformation of ἁγνάς into ἁγνῶς by affirming his belief that it stems from echoschreibung/echo-writing. He concludes that the adaptation is inexplicable or ‘difficult to explain’ (p.225).
When treating of Philostratus’ Graecitas, GB alleges that Philostratus tried to imitate the Greek of the classical period (see p.17). GB claims he reproduced Plato’s verbiage at 7.11.1, p.226. The claim is unfounded and incompletely illustrated in CN. Writing at a much later stage of development, Greek dialects had mutated: prefixes, infixes and suffixes differed somewhat by then. Whatever ‘period-resemblances’ may have appeared in VAT’s quotations from other texts also manifested the diverse ways of Greek expression in Philostratus’ day.
The critical apparatus in CN is clean and sleek, much better than VAT’s. The latter would be a good intermediate Greek text for students of classical Greek. Its stimulating content is no less interesting than that neglected classic with that other famed Apollonius (the Argonautica). Ignore any common attic descriptions scholars have applied previously to VAT’s idiom. Its Greek certainly reflects the wording of a polished Athenian who hardly resorted to an ancient Greek lexicon to standardize his spelling. None existed. Of extant collections of wordlists in other languages, there are no signs they were within reach of him. He went to distant lands of the east. But it is doubtful Philostratus made use of any bi-lingual clay tablets whose wordlists were in Akkadian and Sumerian, including 1st century BC – 1st AD interlinear cuneiform ones with Greek glosses. Grammatical divergences of that epoch are best examined restrictively, as exclusive to an author.
Professors concentrating on the Greek New Testament, a rather circumscribed field of study, could benefit themselves privately and publicly by using GB’s text and commentary as a supplement to their forms of instruction. When GB issues a reliable translation of VAT, an authoritative trifecta of scholarship will be brought to a proper conclusion. As a base translation, it is suggested that he utilize C.P. Jones’ English version and update it throughout. High standards of scholarship are built upon higher standards of criticism. And his edition clears up difficulties and deficiencies. As things now stand, these two volumes, VAT and CN, are evidence of the fruit derived from studies within the ‘Amsterdam School’. Taken together they make strong demands upon readers’ intellects and are indispensable for historians and other academics whose Roman imperial Greek pursuits are both avocational and specialized.
Classicist Darrell Sutton contributes reviews and papers to QR
