著者
小林 標
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.11, pp.185-211, 1994-03-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。The object of this paper is to present a new viewpoint for Seneca's "Medea" and to study as well the nature of its influence over some "Medea" plays in Modern times. It is evident that Seneca's "Medea" owes very much to Euripides's masterpiece tragedy, but nonetheless it shows a clear break therefrom. Euripides created a shockingly powerful human tragedy, in which a once devoted wife, after suffering much because of the husband's betrayal, invents and executes the cruelest punishment for him one can ever imagine : the murder of her own children. Seneca, on his part, did not want to follow in the same footsteps when he tried to write a new "Medea" play. Perhaps we'd better say he could not, because all his literary audience must have had full knowledge of Medea's ultimate deed in Euripides's tragedy. And it would not have made sense for him to write a new play without considering the audience's knowledge of the story. We may be allowed to say that, after Euripides, the name ≪Medea≫ has become a sort of sign to signify ≪woman who kills her innocent children to punish the unfaithful husband whose life she spares≫. It was open to everybody to utilize this sign for writing a new play, but nobody could alter its meaning. So, for one thing, Seneca chose to omit from his version Euripides's Aegeus-scene in which Medea learns how much the children mean to the father ; he decided that, in the environment where everybody knew the heroine would eventually kill her children, the scene of "inventing" the kind of punishment by the heroine would not have as dramatic an impact on the audience as it did in Euripides's play. What Seneca presented instead was the repeated suggestion by Medea herself even in the prologue that she would murder her children. From the beginning of the play the readers or audience are made to confront the insinuation of the outcome they already know but don't want to see, and they are already in suspense. It was this suspenseful atmosphere that Seneca intended to create as the dramatic effect for his "Medea" when he wanted to compensate for the absence of the scene in which the punishment is invented. The well known significative value of the word ≪Medea≫ also made it possible for the author to write words such as "I will become Medea!" (171), or "Now I am Medea" (910) to convey the meaning that she is going to, or has determined to, kill her children. Expressions like ≪I will become Medea≫, ≪I am Medea≫ are also uttered by the heroines of the "Medea" plays of Corneille, Grillparzer and Anouilh. This is one example of the close relationship between Seneca's work and theirs, which has been more or less neglected. These Modern times dramatists had the same advantage and handicap as Seneca did when they wanted to write their "Medea" plays ; the audience already knew what the heroine would ultimately do. In other words, they were able to (and at the same time they had to) use the word ≪Medea≫ as a long established and too-well known sign. So, in the same course, they would rather rely on the dramatic effects invented by Seneca than those by Euripides. Actually, the influence Seneca's "Medea" exercised on these Modern times dramatists can be perceived in their borrowing not merely of the heroine's words from Seneca's work but also the principal framework of his plotting composition. The plotting of Seneca's "Medea", as I interpret it, is as follows ; a supernatural female marries a human male because of her juvenile love, and she tries hard to adapt herself to her husband's world. Eventually she encounters the ≪inescapable≫ betrayal of human beings, and she goes back to her own place after punishing the human world in her harshest way. In a more general and shorter expression, we can summarize it as the story of ≪an inevitable disintegration of an impossible marriage≫. In order to write a story of ≪impossible marriage≫, one must present two oppositive and unreconcilable worlds, which Seneca did in a meticulous way. First, Seneca reversed the heroine's character from the almost completely humanized one in Euripides's work to its mythical archetype, i. e. a sorceress with full witchcraft capacity and inclination. Furthermore, he set her in isolation not only in the actual condition but also in the concept of those who surround her. The Chorus is not only hostile to her in contrast to Euripides's version but also describes her as "the evil worse than the sea" (362) which mankind had not known before their first navigation to violate the sea. Jason is portrayed as being able to claim a certain amount of sympathy. He is being pursued by Acastus so that he is pressed, for the safety of himself and his children, to depend on the help of either Creo, i. e. his saviour from the human world's side, or Medea, i. e. from the nonhuman world's side. Medea tries to retrieve Jason to her own world with the declaration of her willingness to commit further crimes for his sake (525-528), but he chooses to belong to the human world and consequently deserts her. When Medea kills her children, it is not only to punish Jason, but also to severe all relationship with the human world. She asserts that any child she got by Jason is Creusa's (921-2). She also expresses her children as "quondam mei" (924) and "non mei" (934), which are quite contrastive to Medea's word "philoi" in the similar situation of Euripides's version (1250). Finally she casts down the bodies of her children to Jason, again in contrast to Euripides's, and the story of ≪impossible marriage≫ comes to a conclusion. In my opinion, it was Seneca's most valuable contribution to the history of "Medea" plays to transpose her story from that of ≪revenge of a wronged woman≫ into that of ≪an inevitable disintegration of an impossible marriage≫, and it is this kind of plotting that Corneille, Grillparzer and Anouilh owe most to Seneca. A shaky marriage with a nonhuman being (animal, specter, natural phenomenon personified etc.) disguised in human shape and its ultimate breakdown is the motif in many Japanese folktales, of which Lafcadio Hearn's "Yuki-Onna" is one example, and it is given a collective nomination as ≪irui-kon' in-tan≫ (roughly translated, ≪tale of marriage with an alien≫). ≪Irui-kon' in-tan≫ is not identical to the folktales in the West which are classified as the tales of ≪supernatural or enchanted spouse≫, because these are mostly about human beings who are temporarily forced to take disguise in nonhuman shape. Though I could not find the terminology in the Western languages that is exactly identical to ≪irui-kon' in-tan≫, there are literary pieces which could belong to this category in the West, too. As we saw, Seneca's "Medea" is an exemplary case. Fouque's "Undine" and its theatrical adaptation "Ondine" by Giraudoux are among other examples. Now, I would like to suggest broadening the implication of ≪iruikon' in-tan≫ to denote all the stories of ≪an inevitable disintegration of a marriage of a pair from two different worlds unreconcilable to each other≫, and to apply the concept to Occidental literature. Then we may be able to grasp more clearly, for one thing, the place Seneca's "Medea" occupies in the series of "Medea" plays. Among the three Modern dramatists mentioned, Anouilh employed the thematic scheme of ≪impossible marriage≫ more consciously than the others. The meaning of the fact that he borrowed many expressions directly from Seneca's work must be interpreted in correlation with this thematic borrowing. In my own terminology, Anouilh perceived Seneca's "Medea" as ≪irui-kon' in-tan≫, and he himself wrote his own version of the same motif.
著者
脇本 由佳
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.10, pp.1-14, 1992-09-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。In the first Book of the Iliad, Apollo. Athena and Thetis intervene in human affairs, just as, in the last Book, Thetis, Iris and Hermes do. However, the important difference between the divine interventions in Book I and those in Book XXIV is that, while all those in Book I are out of personal motives, those in Book XXIV are by order of Zeus. This difference, in fact, parallels how the story develops ; Book I is the beginning of a disturbance, while Book XXIV is its end. The former is dynamic and the latter static. The manner of divine intervention reflects the condition of the humau world, and the private interventions and those by Zeus frame the course of the progression from the energetic Book to the tranquil Book. The condition of the divine world parallels that of the human world as a glass reflects an image, and foreshadows how the story will develop. In Books XIII-XV, a lengthy exposition of divine revolts against the Plan of Zeus unfolds. In Books XIII-XIV, Poseidon intervenes against the will of Zeus in battle, and, in Book XIV, Hera supports his intervention. Finally, in Book XV, Zeus sends Iris and Apollo into the battlefield, which dispatch marks a period of successive revolts. These private interventions by Poseidon and Hera (Books XIII-XIV) and those at the will of Zeus by Iris and Apollo (Book XV) frame the sequence of events in the same manner as Books I and XXIV frame the entire story of the Iliad. The Iliad is said to be a succession of numberless retardations, and we can say that the chronicle of revolts in Books XIII-XV is but one of them. The personal interventions in Books XIII-XIV constitute one long retardation, which the interventions of Zeus in Book XV end. On the other hand, the story of the Iliad itself can also be said to be one retardation preceding the fall of Troy. We can also say, then, that Book I, which relates the cause of one retardation, and Book XXIV, which concludes it, together likewise frame it. Moreover, the activities of the gods function to clarify events in the human world by reflecting its state. In the descriptions of battles (13.455-520 and 13.526-554), for example, while the Greeks aud Trojans seem as if they are equally matched, through the description of the gods (13.521-525), we are given to understand that the Trojans are in fact inferior to their enemies. According to Whitman, there can often be found in Zeus a reflection of the characteristics, of Achilles. Is this relation between Zeus and Achilles really constant? The first apparent reflection of Zeus appears in Book XIV ; when Zeus falls asleep, Hector falls in battle, and when Zeus awakens, Hector recovers his senses. Certain passages (15.610-612, 15.636-637, and 15.693-695) reinforce this close connection between Zeus and Hector. Zeus and Achilles, on the other hand, begin to seem like two symmetrically opposed figures. In Book XV, Zeus takes pity upon Hector (15.12) and allows the Trojans to recover from defeat, while, in Book XVI, Achilles, out of pity for Patroclus, aids the Greeks. At 17.591-594, Hector and Zeus are both described with a motif of "cloud and flash", and here the reflection of Zeus in Hector is noticeable. The description of Achilles (18.22) employing the motif of "cloud" is similar to that of Hector (17.591), returning the reflection of Zeus to Achilles. Moreover, at 18.203-206, Achilles is described with an element of "cloud and flash" which is very similar to that at 17.591-594 describing Zeus and Hector. The successive repetition of the same motif traces the shift of the reflection of Zeus back to Achilles. Since Zeus is often identified with the concept of "victory", we may say that this shifting of the reflection of Zeus from Achilles to Hector and back to Achilles again foreshadows which party will gain victory. The activities of the gods, as we have seen, function to foreshadow how the story will develop. It was observed in particular that the petsonal interventions of the gods cause a retardation, and that, conversely, those of Zeus bring it to an end. The personal interventions and those of Zeus frame retardations. In short, the divine world parallels the human world as a glass reflects its image ; the descriptions of gods illustrate the events in the human world and how the story will progress. We have also seen that, in the Iliad, a god is reflected in an individual hero, although this relationship is never constant, and a shift in this relationship also foreshadows how the story will develop. Thus, the gods in the Iliad help the audience to understaud how the story unfolds.
著者
高橋 宏幸
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.4, pp.29-58, 1988-04-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。This paper attempts to trace a final voice of the poet in 4.7 and 4.8 by re-examining the parallels between Cynthia-domina and the Homeric heroes, esp. hero as aristocrat in 4.7. In 4.7, the apparition of Cynthia's ghost before Propertius seems to correspond to Patroclus' appearance before Achilles ; however, whereas Patroclus had urgently to ask Achilles for burial, to enable him to cross the river Styx, Cynthia, now in Elysium, has no such need. Why, then, does she come? She is indignant over Propertius' forgetfulness and coldheartedness at her burial (23-34), her slaves' treachery (35-38), and her rival's assumption of her former status (39-48) ; all have offended her. She must restore her dignity : thus she comes. She swears that her faith was kept(49-58), refers to the Elysian heroines as her comrades (55-70), and commands Propertius to take care of her nurse and favorite maid(73-6), to burn the verses in her name (77f.) , to inscribe the poem she deserves (81-6) etc. The wrath caused by offence to one's dignity recalls the theme of the Iliad. In this respect, Cynthia can be likened to Achilles, and the two heroic qualities embodied in Cynthia reinforce this interpretation. One of these qualities is thymos. Upon Propertius she casts her voice with spirantis animos (11), which expresses ably in Latin the Greek, the word not being found in the Patroclus-scene of Il. 23. Her voice itself eloquently demonstrates the heat of her anger. Another is time, worth based on riches. Her jewel (9), funeral offerings (31ff.), golden dress (40), monument (43) , image of gold (47), and household of many servants and slaves (35ff., 43f., 73f.) were included in her time. Their loss means loss of face for her so she must avenge herself. The parallel may be more conspicuous between Cynthia and Odysseus in 4.8. Here also is her indignation, not only in speech, but in action, with thundering eyes and the woman's full power of rage (55). Spoils, victory and rule cause her exultant rejoicing (64f., 82), since her time is restored at her homecoming. These parallels help to paint a vivid portrait of Cynthia as a domina who also has a hot temper and absolute rule over her men ; thus an offence to her dignity can make her furious. And we should take into account the following features of Cynthia-domina ; her eyes as a symbol of the power by which she was the first to capture Propertius (1. 1. 1) : her unadorned hair representing the charms of natural beauty, e. g. 2. 1. 1 : Propertius' frequent references to her fama, as Boucher points out. What survives of Cynthia in 4.7 are only her eyes and hair, together with her voice. In 4.8, she thunders with her eyes ; beautifully with her hair. Fama is, however, not always as-sociated with riches as is time. Traditionally, love-elegists are poor, hate the rich and money as the source of corruption. We notice vulgar images attributed to Cynthia's rival in 4.7 and to the luxurious banquet in 4.8. In 4.7, particularly, all the riches Cynthia had have been damaged or taken, and, although she has come to reclaim them, she demands the return of none, but only Propertius' poems. The Homeric hero would rather be a slave in life than a king of the dead (cf. Od. 11.488ff.), while Cynthia, after death, continues to rule over Propertius, a slave of love ; death is not the end of all (1). The poet seems to say that loveelegiac values survive while heroic-aristocratic values will not long stand, thouth he is now giving up his love poetry. Against this interpretation, some may argue that the epitaph Cynthia commands be erected at Tibur is of sufficient magnificence to merit a heroine. But her instruction contrasts strangely to Propertius' in 3.6, one of the other two poems on Tibur. The passage says that the lovers' tombs along the busy highway are dishonored, recalling, as Lyne remarks, Callimachean literary polemic in Aet. 1.25ff. (cf.Epigr. 28Pf. 1f.). Here, 4. 7.81ff. sounds a wordplay between the heroic-common sense and the elegiac. Pomifer (81) surely refers to fruitfullness, but poma-ferens can imply a lover bringing a gift of wooing, of which poma was symbolic in antiquity. Aurea (85) may recall the Homeric epithet chrysee, but can mean <greedy of money>, as in Ov. A. A. 2.277f. These two words, in the same position in similar lines both in content (Anio or Cynthia lies in the earth) and versification (a polysyllable in the first half and three diaereses in the second), appear to be in immediate response : a man who gives and a woman who takes. And in ll.81-2 there is a grammatical possibility to take ebur as an acc, of respect to pomifer with Anio as the subject of pallet. Then, the combination pomifer-ebur, a man with such a precious gift as ivory, seems to suggest dives amator, who never pales since he knows no real love, of which color is paleness as in Ov. A. A. 1 729. In addition relating to this imagery of the rich, we have a cause-story of the Heraclean Temple ; a merchant beat away the pirates (without getting pale for fear) to return safe successfully, thanks to Heracles, the divinity of war and trade (Macrob. 3. 6. 11).
著者
丹和 和彦
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.6, pp.1-28, 1989-09-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。
著者
山下 太郎
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.11, pp.118-135, 1994-03-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。At the beginning of Book 6 (20ff.), we find a poetic technique called echphrasis. The episode involving Daedalus discussed here has much in common with the main themes of Book 6. However, the parallel in Book 1 (Aen. 1.466-93), where the same technique is employed, provides another hint ; Virgil seems to imply the very way in which he could describe history in a most proper way. In this connection, we should first notice the invocation to the gods of the underworld (Aen. 6.264-7). This is closely related to that in the Iliad (2.484ff.), where the poet draws a clear distinction between (A) : the knowledge of the Muses and (B) : that of mortals (the poet). (A) is firsthand and integral (cf. Il. 2.485 pareste te iste te panta), while (B) is secondhand (cf. Il. 2.486 kleos) and imperfect. However, the poet states his firm will to enumerate all (Il. 2.493 propasas) with the assistance of the Muses. In fact, the following catalogue (2.494ff.) succeeds in giving an impression that the whole has been fully detailed. An elaborate selection holds the key of this. The distinction between (A) and (B) is also noted in Aen. 6.20ff., where the picture on the temple doors represents Daedalus' firsthand experience, while the poet, on his part, not only admits his own incomplete knowledge (cf. 6.14 fama) but also suggests the possibility of describing the whole story (cf. 6.33 omnia). A deliberate omission (i.e. Daedalus did not describe his son's death) paradoxically asserts the authenticity of the whole mythological episode. The same pattern is apparently found in the description of Tartarus (6. 548ff.), which is introduced as a story told by Sibylla who has once been there herself and expected to tell the truth (cf. 6.100, 188-9). Aeneas knows nothing about it, and carefully listens to what Sibylla has experienced. Further, there are some significant expressions which remind us of the invocation in the Iliad (cf. Aen. 6.560-1, 625-7). The motif of describing the whole is repeatedly found at the end of this book (Aen. 6.679ff.). There are not a few verbal evidences confirming this. However, we should also notice another important motif which is related to the tense of each episode. In the epilogue, Virgil predicts a great number of honorable deeds found in the history of Rome as if they were going to take place in the future, while to the eyes of the contemporary readers, each incident belongs to the past. A reader of this poem, though not present at the scene, is quite sure of each historical event, and feels as if he knew the entire history of Rome, just like Anchises, who is telling the fate of Rome (cf. 6.683, 759). It is also noteworthy that the action of Aeneas is shown to be preceded by episodes such as that involving Daedalus and Theseus, who usually appear only in myths. In other words, Virgil makes it possible for a reader to regard these mythical events as historical. The relation to Book 1 might provides a new perspective. Before the description of Juno's temple, for instance, we read a conversation between Jupiter and Venus (1.223ff.), where Jupiter declares his eternal promise of the perpetual prosperity of Rome (1.257-8). This promise applies not only to Aeneas and his contemporaries but also to the present and future people of Rome. Next comes the echphrasis presenting the Trojan War. At the sight of the picture, Aeneas shed tears (1.459) remembering his own past experiences. These tears authenticate the truth of the story presented in that section. To sum up, Virgil, paying attention to the words in the invocation to the Muses in the second Iliad, tries to recount the following : (a) the past of Aeneas---the temple of Juno (a)' the future of Aeneas---the conversation between Jupiter and Venus ; the catalogue of the Heroes (b) the past and the present---the catalogue of the Heroes of the reader (b)' the future of the reader---the conversation between Jupiter and Venus (c) the past of the mythical heroes--- the picture on the temple doors (c)' the past, the present, and the future of the mythical heroes---description of Tartalus Virgil's original viewpoint may lie in the fact that he predicts the past of the readers as the future in the poem : (a)'=(b). Moreover, Jupiter's promise in the first book refers to the future of Aeneas and the readers as well : (a)'=(b)'. As the outline above suggests, Virgil tries to describe the past, the present, and the future of "all" people including future generations, to whom the words of Jupiter "Imperium sine fine (1.279)", will also be applied. This poem, though confined to the story of Aeneas, includes all dimensions of human affairs. Book 6, thus interpreted, implies that the poet's intent was to describe the history of humankind, or a universal truth.
著者
高橋 宏幸
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.16, pp.9-38, 1999-08-31

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。This paper attempts to treat the nature of Livy's historiography by observing his use of an exemplum in Ap. Claudius' speech in Bk. 5. In his speech(5. 3. 1-6. 17) intended to advocate that the siege of Veii be continued in winter, a tactic never adopted before, Appius refers to the Trojan war to the effect of contrast ; the Romans are reluctant to besiege Rome's archenemy within her sight while all of Greece crossed lands and seas to sack Troy for one women's sake. This exemplum turns out to be ironical in the course of the narrative, for there are similarities between the Veientan war and the Fall of Troy ; fought for ten years(405-396 BC) ; conditions of Fall prophesied(15.1-12 ; 16.8-11 ; 19.1 ; 21.8-9) ; tactics for breakthrough(19.10-11, 21.10-13) ; urbs opulentissima and troubles about dealing out the booty(20.1-10, 21.14-15, 22.1-2, 8) ; Camillus praying like Achilles when forced into exile because of praeda Veientana(5. 32. 8-9).Since for a Roman in 403 BC to use a mythological example is unimaginable and Appius never predicts the analogy between the two wars, the exemplum should be appreciated in literary or narrative terms : its function seems to highlight the analogy for the readers. If so, however, it is remarkable that there is one missing point in the Veientan war : woman as cause of war. This aspect could have been most appealing to Livy's readers, seeing that (1) Helen as causa belli is almost a literary cliche(Hor. Ep. 1. 2. 9 ; Prop. 2. 3. 35-36 ; Ov. Am. 2. 12. 17-18, A. A. 3.253-54 ; cf. Verg. A. 6.93, 11.479f.), evoking the image of Cleopatra, that (2) una mulier, the phrase used there, is highly impressive, as appearing in Enn. Trag. v. 47 apud Cic. Div. 1.114(=Cassandra's prophesy about Helen), Cir. Clu. 15(quot. Quintil. Inst. Or. 4. 2. 105)(=Sassia), Cael. 47, 51(=Clodia), and Prop. 4. 6. 65(=Cleopatra), and that (3) 'all troubles began with a woman'(1. 46. 7) is a recurrent motif in Bks. 1-4 : Lavinia(1. 2. 1-6), the Sabine women(1. 9. 1-13.5), Tullia ? Lucretia(1.46ff.), Veturia(2. 40. 5-9), Verginia(3.44ff.), and the maid of Ardea(4. 9. 1-11)(also cf. Fabia minor(6. 34. 5-11)).Livy assigns Appius the role of orator speaking for the interests of the senate, his first speech suggesting that the senators break the power of the plebeian tribunes through the veto of their colleagues(4. 48. 4-10), his second (which includes the exemplum) also countering the tribunes' move as Livy introduces him as an equal opponent to them with reference to the first speech (5. 2. 13-14, 7. 1), and his third claiming that the money captured at Veii go to the treasury when Camillus referred the matter of booty to the senate.Appius' intention, however, is for the good of the whole nation and not to suppress the plebs as he himself says in his fourth speech(6. 40. 5). His third speech loses to P. Licinius', but this loss turns out to be crucial to the fortune of Camillus, that is, of Rome. Licinius looks like a good arbitrator, the first military tribune elected from the plebs, bringing an end to the serious trouble caused by the tribunes(5. 12. 7-9, 12-13), and elected again without his seeking office as the senate had no objection(5. 18. 1). His opinion that whoever wants a share in the spoils get to the camp at Veii, however, intended to conciliate the plebs with the gift, made the senate plebeian(5. 20. 10). Due to those first seeds of greed sown by this conciliation Camillus incurs people's hatred(5. 22. 1-2, 23. 8-12), and finally he, the only human aid against the Gauls, goes into exile (5. 32. 7-9). Another cause of people's hate against Camillus is linked to Appius' first speech ; Camillus openly rebuked the plebs and the senate for doing away with the veto of the tribunes(5. 29. 6). It looks as if the action and hardship of Camillus were to prove that the words of Appius had been pointing in the right direction.His second speech is parallel with Camillus' at the end of Bk. 5 in form and content, and here I would call attention to the incidents after each speech, the news of the disaster at Veii and the voice of a centurion accepted as an omen, which not just decided the matter but inspired the Romans to do more than restore the loss caused by the fire. The news from Veii and its consequences are, however, depicted as sudden and unexpected happenings with the voluntary actions on the part of the knights and the plebs followed by the senate (5. 7. 1, 4, 6), whereas to the centurion's voice, opportune emissa, the senate took the immediate action of se accipere omen, to which the plebs gives a simultaneous approval(5. 55. 1-2).It would be helpful here to compare two other divine voices appearing in Bk. 5 : Iuno Regina and Aius Locutius. It is a mere rumor that a voice of the goddess was heard to say she would be pleased when moved from Veii to Rome, but, at the same time it is the tradition accepted among the Romans (accepimus) that she was transferred as easily as if she just followed(5. 22. 5-6). The negligence of the voice which warned against the Gauls(5. 32. 6-7) was costly to the Romans ; after regaining Rome they make atonement and dedicate a temple to the new god(5. 50. 5, 51. 7, 52. 11). These episodes seem to stress an active recognition of celestial voices as critically important to the welfare of Rome.Now the passage from Ennius quoted of una mulier may be also helpful ; Cassandra's prophesy about Helen was never believed. In this respect it is, I think, suggestive that the rejection by the senate of Appiu's opinion in his third speech marked the first step to Rome's downfall ; his voice also sounds like what they should listen to. We may find a similar function in the exemplum. 'A woman as cause of war', though one missing point in the analogy between the two wars, should have been strikingly appealing to Livy's readers, then it could be a signal for them to listen to as a warning against a woman like Cleopatra. This is surely out of the immediate context, but it accords with the nature of the omen, κληδων, with a meaning which depends on the person who is to receive it, no matter what sense the speaker intended.
著者
木曽 明子
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.14, pp.1-26, 1996-09-15

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。Euripides the tragedian is often called the inventor of European comedy. Indeed the plays he wrote in the last years of his career, Iphigenia among the Taurians. Helen and Ion, include most of the elements which were to become the stock features of comedies of Menander, Plautus, Shakespeare. Moliere, Oscar Wilde and even Joe Orton of the present day. How can a tragedy be presented as a tragedy but be appreciated as a comedy? I will try to examine the dramatic art of Euripides as shown in Ion, a play which, though an entry in the tragic competition at the festival of Dionysus, shows a treatment of situation and character differing subtly from the tragic norm and introducing a new attitude to human nature and action. The following points will be discussed from the perspective of what is comic (1-14, 16-18) and what is tragic (15) in the play : 1. Hermes' appearance as Prologist in the style of Roman comedy. 2. The introduction of "household matters, things we use and live with, " as phrased by Aristophanes. 3. Parody in the mode of Aristophanic stage. 4. The attitude of watching which causes detachment rather than involvement on the part of the audience. Peace and harmony in mythical prospect. 5. The so-called "Sophoclean irony" in stichomythia utilized to create tragicomic effects. 6. The fall of divine authority-Apollo caricatured. 7. Comic effect through hyponoia. 8. Qui pro quo in the scene of father-and-son recognition. 9. Comic effect through simple gestures on trochaic tetrameter. 10. Xuthus as the prototype of pater iratus and his deception. 11. Topicality treated with satire. 12. Diversion from the main plot in the style of comic parabasis. 13. The significance of paronomasia on Ion as the symbol of the rebirth of Athens. 14. Things contrary to expectation-the archetype of servus dolosus in his role manipulating his mistress. 15. Tragic monody by the heroine, as the centripetal force supporting the dramatic structure. 16. Disjointed structure-contrary to the Aristotelian prescription for successful tragedy. 17. Anagnorisis(discovery) and peripeteia(change of fortune) brought about by accident, not by the neccesity and probability of action. 18. The play as a ritual in celebration of the rebirth of Athens, with Athena ex machina to honour the occasion.
著者
木曽 明子
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.18, pp.1-17, 2002-10-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。Demosthenes (384-322 B. C.) has kept the unchallenged name as first and foremost of the ancient Greek orators, which means that his speeches well deserve attention not only as delivered "live" to the citizens of the democratic Athens of the fourth century B. C., but also as literary works which stand up to various demands of artistic criticism of different ages and cultures. Among the ancient critics who appreciated Demosthenes' speech was Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who arrived at Rome around 30 B. C. to become a tutor of declamation. Declamation at that time not only constituted part of the educational program for the youth of the upper class Romans but also was very popular as a sort of entertainment in which the performances of professional declamators attracted the audience just as the recitals of popular singers did. In such circumstances Dionysius who used the speeches of Greek orators as model material in his tutorial of declamation was in a favorable position to discover one of the keys to the miraculous power of Demosthenes' speech---euphony. Dionysius examined how his sentences were composed and found that the word arrangement in the composition was the secret of the phonetical beauty and charm of Demosthenes' speech. The orator proved to be the best exploiter of the linguistic characteristics of Greek language which allows considerable license in word order without contravening grammar. The orator could provide euphony in his speech as in poetry without losing clarity of speech which is the vital prerequisite in persuasion.
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.22, pp.3-3, 2010-03-28
著者
安村 典子
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.22, pp.22-37, 2010-03-28

The motherless goddess Athene is more like a man than a woman; or, as J. Harrison suggested, she is rather a sexless thing, neither man nor woman. She appears as an equal to Zeus, and shares several qualities with him, including intelligence. The most telling, and curious, correlation is their sharing of the aegis. The phrase 'aegis-bearing' (αἰγιόχος) is one of Zeus' most common epithets, and the aegis itself is made by Hephaestus for Zeus in the Iliad (15.309-10). However, in the Chrysippus fragment, Metis makes the aegis for Athene. Also, in the fragment of the Meropis, the aegis is made by Athene herself from the skin of the Giant Asteros whom she killed in the Gigantomachy. In the Iliad, Athene wears the aegis to encourage the Achaeans (2.450-2 and 5.738-42) and to fight with Ares (21. 400-414); she also casts it over Achilles' shoulder (18.203-4). Two of these passages, 5.738-42 and 21.400-414, in particular merit our attention for their connection with Zeus. In these two passages, Ares' challenge is quite easily beaten off by Athene, who is backed up by Zeus' aegis. By giving birth to Athene, Zeus acquires a counterpart who fights on his side and as his deputy, defeating his son, Ares, who might prove a challenger to his power. It is a marker of Athene's functional affinity to Zeus that, as Zeus becomes more remote from human beings, she eventually replaces him as the chief guardian of the state and people. Athene is the symbolic representation of the rule of Zeus; she is the symbol of a new kind of state, or of the cultural renewal of Zeus' world. The concept of a strong alliance between Zeus and Athena fits perfectly both with Panhellenic ideals and Greek societal and moral norms, thus ensuring the continued popularity and success of Homer and Hesiod. The sharing of the aegis between Zeus and Athene could be interpreted in this context.
著者
小川 正広
出版者
京都大学文学部西洋古典研究室
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.1, pp.41-66, 1980-03-20

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。
著者
田中 博明
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.11, pp.104-117, 1994-03-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。
著者
木曽 明子
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.18, pp.1-17, 2002-10-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。
著者
五之治 昌比呂
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.22, pp.260-278, 2010-03-28

Engerbert Kämpfer's so-called 'Sakoku-ron' (On Japan's closed country) is an essay arguing the validity of Japan's closed country in the 17th century. It is included in his Amoenitates Exoticae, written in Latin, which is the only book he published during his lifetime. He was preparing a larger-scale book about Japan in German, Heutiges Japan, which contained a lot of information he had collected during his stay in Japan as a doctor of the Dutch East Indian Company. Unfortunately, he did not see it published during his life and a large collection of his drafts and notes were left to his heirs. After a complicated process, two celebrated books were produced by editing the drafts of Kämpfer's unpublished work on Japan: J. C. Scheuchzer's English translation and C. W. Dohm's German edition. Both authors included translations of Kämpfer's essays on Japan from Amoenitates Exoticae, including Sakoku-ron, as an appendix to their books. After publication, these two books were subsequently so successful and widely read that little attention was paid to the Latin original. Most arguments on these texts, especially Sakoku-ron, have been usually based on the translations (especially Dohm's). The aim of my paper is to compare closely the Latin original and the translations and to reveal some remarkable differences among them. On the whole, Dohm's translation is faithful to the original, while Scheuchzer's is full of free, often arbitrary, paraphrases and supplements. Yet, even Dohm's translation, upon close comparison and examination, reveals differences from Kämpfer's original. Some of them are clearly Dohm's own simple errors and misunderstandings, but some are possibly his intentional alterations. In some cases he changed the positive expressions of the original into negative or neutral ones. Evidently he was highly critical of Kämpfer's excessive admiration of Japan, since at the end of his translation he placed long supplementary notes to show his objections to Kämpfer's several comments or arguments on Japan. It is, therefore, appropriate to conclude that Dohm's personal attitude is reflected in the negative alterations made in his translation.
著者
岩崎 務
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.22, pp.249-259, 2010-03-28

In the Menaechmi of Plautus there are many expressions about binding and restrictions and we find situations in which people are bound or restrained. On the other hand, some people are set free at the end of the play. Messenio who saved Menaechmus I (the twin in Epidamnus) from kidnapping wishes to be released from slavery and Menaechmus I, who is mistaken for Menaechmus II (the twin from Syracuse), agrees with him. Furthermore, Menaechmus I achieves reunion with his brother and tries to leave Epidamnus for his homeland after selling off all his possessions. The motifs of restraint and release are constituent factors throughout this play. As far as restrictions and release are concerned, Peniculus seems the one who tries to set Menaechmus I free from his house. But, fundamentally, he wants Menaechmus I to stay in his own house, because that way he can get invited to meals more surely. So he is always on the lookout for his master just outside the doors. On the other hand, Messenio attempts to get a grip on Menaechmus II by giving him wise advice, but, ignored by his master, he fully realizes that he is just a slave. Peniculus' behavior forms a strong contrast to Messenio's. The former, who wants to be bound to the house, fails to follow Menaechmus I and loses a chance to enjoy an expensive dinner, while the latter, who deplores his state of enslavement, saves Menaechmus I from abduction and on that account is released from slavery. It is uncertain whether the Menaechmi is based on any Greek original. However, we can discern a symmetrically built structure behind this play. Plautus often brings in farcical elements or Romanizes some scenes in the play to please the Roman audience, even if it may mean spoiling a well-balanced structure and realism of the original. This play also has such scenes where the motifs of restrictions are more prominent (446-65, 571-97, etc.). Menaechmus I as the head of the household controls his family members. However, it is often the wife with a large dowry (uxor dotata), always scolding her husband in the house, who is in control. Outside the house, too, he is bound by various customs and human relations typical of the Roman society. Here it is emphasized that not only slaves but also free men like him, the head of the household, encounter restrictions in this social system. Occasionally he is bound by duties towards a client, a parasite or a slave, who should otherwise be subject to his own authority. This play ends with the divorce of Menaechmus I from his wife in contrast to other comedies which usually end happily with young lovers' marriage. The story after Menaechmus I's coming to Epidamnus is not related in detail in the play. From the information provided by the prologue we are under the impression that the Epidamnian merchant was a benefactor for the kidnapped twin because he made the twin his inheritor and let him marry a wealthy man's daughter, though he committed the crime of kidnapping. Therefore the audience is likely to question Menaechmus I's behavior at the end of the play. To make this ending happy and appropriate for comedy, Plautus had to emphasize Menaechmus I's state of captivity by various expressions concerning a restricted situation. Menaechmus I loses his wealth and the status of the head of the household but he is released from his shackles and becomes a truly free person. His escape from the maze of restrictions of everyday life features in the play more prominently than the theme of kidnapping and restrictions imposed by living in a foreign land.
著者
小川 正広
出版者
京都大学西洋古典研究会
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.6, pp.89-117, 1989-09-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。
著者
高橋 宏幸
出版者
京都大学
雑誌
西洋古典論集 (ISSN:02897113)
巻号頁・発行日
vol.11, pp.151-184, 1994-03-30

この論文は国立情報学研究所の学術雑誌公開支援事業により電子化されました。The second choral ode of Seneca's Troades denies the existence of life after death, saying that nothing is after death and death itself is nothing. This view of death is inconsistent with the mood of the chorus in the rest of the play, especially at the commos where they are in grievous mourning. This paper attempts to interpret the inconsistency as representing a psychological conflict in the chorus' minds, and thereby characterizing their tears as fletus cum sapientia, in contrast not only to those of the turba in Act 5, but to Andromacha's and Hecuba's in Acts 3 and 4 respectively. The commos in Act 1 is led by Hecuba's impatient urge, "lamenta cessant?"(63), answered by the chorus, "non rude vulgus lacrimisque novum/ lugere iubes... non indociles lugere sumus"(67-8, 82), because not a day has passed when they did not shed tears since the Trojan War began ten years before. Why, then, had they ceased weeping at this moment, just after the fall of Troy, which should have most naturally evoked their most painful lamentation? The reason for this hesitation of the chorus about lamentation at the beginning of the commos should be sought for in the second choral ode, because it is, as Owen(1970a) has convincingly demonstrated, represented as simultaneous with the event in Act 1, and therefore we can assume that the thoughts expressed there is also in the chorus's mind at the commos. The ode, with a suspicious questioning about life after death(A : 371-81) and its definite negation as a fancy(A' : 397-408) in the outer frame, balances an end-of-the-world image reminiscent of ekpyrosis(B : 382-9) with similes of smoke and cloud scattered by the winds which recall Lucretian passages(B' : 392b-5), embracing in the center the sententia that the dead are nowhere(C : 390-2a). Therefore, the two imageries (B-B') are structurally represented as closely counected with each other and unfolding the chorus's thoughts. No doubt the fall of Troy has brought image B to the chorus's minds, and image B' is recurrently used of the fall of Troy(cf. 17-21, 1053-5 ; Aisch. Ag. 818, Eur. Tro. 128-9, 1320-1). Then, here it seems to be implied that the chorus, experiencing the fall of Troy, has come to the wisdom on life and death, and that is the inner voice which held back the chorus from weeping. We may compare with Andromacha. She, for whom Hector was Troy itself, had fallen into apathy at his death, and subsequently had been incapable of mourning(409-17). Bearing in mind this wisdom, which denies the existence of the dead, however, the chorus resumes lamentation, in compliance with Hecuba's urging. To consider the mourning the chorus puts on, it first should be compared with the tears shed by the people in Act 5 who gather to watch the deaths as if acted on the stage(spectator : 1087 ; theatri more : 1125). The same words are used for those people(turba : 1077, 1081, 1099, 1119 ; vulgus : 1078, 1093, 1128, 1143) and for the chorus(turba : 63, 409 ; vulgus : 67, 81), but the former is just a crowd moved by transient emotions while the latter call themselves non rude vulgus lugere(67f.), non indociles lugere(82). These expressions suggest that, unlike the turba in Act 5, in their weeping they are eruditae and doctae, that is, having philosophical learning, which probably refers to the learning to be expressed in the second choral ode. When the chorus resumes lamentation with all the wisdom, their tears will be given great weight, as they come from the eyes with profound insight into life and death. We can also see the chorus flentes cum sapientia, looking upon the stage throughout the play, standing in a sharp contrast with the illusions or misunderstandings involved in Andromacha's and Hecuba's tears for their children, as is examined below. Schetter has ingeniously illustrated Andromacha's illusion about her husband's power to save her son in Act 3. She suffers another illusion when she bids her son farewell in tears. She must have believed that her words could relieve him from fear of death(789b-91), but his cry to her "Miserere, mater"(792), ironically sounds as if he was afraid of his mother as an enemy threatening his life, for it echoes the very words the mother herself used twice to supplicate Ulixes to spare her son : "miserere matris"(694, 703). In Act 4, Polyxena's soul, describes Andromacha, is mighty enough to be joyful(laetus) in knowing her doom(945), while, according to the usual interpretation of the text we have in the MS, Hecuba sees tears burst from Polyxena's eyes and tells her to be joyful(laetare) (965b-7a). To solve this inconsistency, most modern editors except Zwierlein have accepted Richter's suggestion that 11. 967-8 be put after 978, attributing the tears to Hecuba and providing an answer to Helena's words in 1.978. This transposition, however, does not fulfill the purpose since it still remains that the person who is already joyful is urged to be joyful. We should begin again by considering the incongruity as it is. At the same time that Polyxena happily hears her fate, Hecuba faints and falls down(949-50), so we can imagine that she has had no time to notice Polyxena's reaction. Soon she returns to life(954), but there is no indication that she has stood up. Here we may compare with Eur. Tro. 462ff., where, after Kassandra is taken away, Hekabe falls down, declines a hand offered by the chorus to help her rise, and chooses to remain lying because that posture is fitting for her mishaps which she now begins to tell. For Hecuba here also it is natural to lie down, probably with her eyes cast down, while she weeps over her sufferings and wishes for her soul to slip away(955-64a). If so, she is not yet likely to look at Polyxena. And the moment she utters the word funeral, tears come down(remitte funus inrigat fletus genas : 965), as if the thought of the funeral has drawn out the tears. The situation here seems that Hecuba, buried deep in grief and remembering innumerable funerals she has attended, sees Polyxena standing on Achilles's tomb for her wedding-funeral in an illusory vision : there she sheds tears for Polyxena, and encourages her to rejoice because she believes her daughter must be in great sorrow as she herself is. Andromacha's following words (Nos, Hecuba, nos, nos, Hecuba, lugendae sumus : 969) sound appropriate to recall Hecuba from such a vision back to reality : she is trying to wake Hecuba by calling her name twice and make her aware by triple repetitions of "us" that it is not Polyxena, who will have her resting place, who should be grieved, but rather the Trojan women including Hecuba who will be taken to unknown lands. If Hecuba has come to herself after this call, and is somewhat relieved to see Polyxena's appearance, then it is understandable that there is no mention of her until Pyrrhus appears to take her away.