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As modern students of distant antiquity, classical scholars are permanently faced with the task of negotiating the relationship between past and present. Traditionally, two models have been available to us for this task. The one is that of the positivist model of a science as developed above all in the natural sciences: the model of Altertumswissenschaft. As the physicist studies the material world, we study antiquity: the plot of our discipline is one of growing mastery of the subject, as we discover more and more about the past. In the light of this model, it is as natural for a classical scholar to use modern techniques of research as it is for a chemist to use the latest equipment. Carbon 14 dating in archaeology and Government-Binding Theory in linguistics were not available to the Greeks or Romans, but that is no reason why we should not use them to help us comprehend the ancient world.
For this positivist model, antiquity is as inert a subject of enquiry as the world of the atomic nucleus. What I shall call the historicist model, on the other hand, emphasises that the Greeks and Romans were conscious agents, and figures the task of the modern interpreter as that of recovering their ways of thinking, their horizon of expectations. On this view, it is less clear that modern techniques of interpretation are appropriate. The danger, we are told, is one of anachronism, of failing to see the difference between ancient and modern ways of thinking: it may be appropriate to use modern literary theoretical techniques to understand say James Joyce's Ulysses — but not Homer's version of the tale.
The opposition between these two opposed models plays itself out in various ways. To an extent, as I have already implied, it is reflected in differing disciplines that come under the heading of classical studies: archaeology and linguistics may be more positivist, literary studies and history more historicist. But our individual temperaments as researchers may also push us one way or the other. Like all good oppositions, this one is eminently deconstructible. To be truly historicist, for instance, may turn out to require more modern theory rather than less, as in the versions of historicism we find in Greek studies influenced by Paris School structuralism and by Foucault. The problem I find in this opposition, however, is that both positivism and historicism , at least in their more naive versions, neglect sociology and the politics of the academy. They take for granted that classical studies have a secure and obvious place in the intellectual sphere, that what we do — the purpose, function, point of the discipline — can be taken for granted. We all know that our position within the academy, and our role in intellectual life more generally, is much less stable than this. We cannot assume that the point of doing "classics" at all is so obvious that it can be taken as given.
There is a circle here, in that if how we conceptualise our activity is related to our view of our role in society, our view of our role in society is in part determined by the concerns and methodology of our practice. But such a circle is inevitable: we can only begin from where we are, and theorise our practice and put into practice our theory from such a starting point. I obviously cannot offer a global answer to the question of the point of classical studies, but I would like to point to the role of the mythographer as one possible way in which we might think of what we do. We tell and retell stories about the past, and thus offer society ways of structuring its thought about the present and future. Clearly, I use terms like "myth" and "story" not to mean fictions as the opposite of truth, but in the spirit of postmodernism, as narratives which provide a framework within which we can live our lives. Some of these are big stories, like the roots of democracy in 5th Century Athens, some even bigger ones such as the Western construction of love and the lover: our task is simultaneously to hand on and to criticise these myths, to show both their inadequacy and their indispensability.
This way of looking at our role transcends both a naive positivism and a naive historicism. Our stories must be simultaneously of our time and about the past, since it is that pastness that distinguishes our tales from those of other mythographers, but to talk to our contemporaries we must speak the language of today. We must use modern theories and methods, not necessarily because they are better, but precisely because, as some critics of modern theory allege, because they are new: because they allow us to engage in that dialogue with our contemporaries which is our raison d'être. We should not be afraid of the charge of anachronism. The reproach is often made, for instance, to the American and English New Critics of Vergil from the 60s and 70s that their attitudes were formed by the politics of their own day: as if those of their opponents were not, and as if it were somehow good to be of one's time if one were a Greek or Roman but not if one were a 20th Century Professor at Harvard.
My concern in this paper is to offer, in the light of these general remarks, a sketch of some developments in the criticism of Latin poetry in the English-speaking world since the New Criticism. Obviously this too will be a story, my own way of emplotting the events. But I hope it will help mainland European classicists in particular to orientate themselves with respect to current Anglo-American work, and serve as a starting-point from which we may all consider within our own native traditions the directions we wish our subject to take and the role we see it playing in our own societies.
The body of scholarly work on which I shall be concentrating does not by any means encompass all work of interest and value in Latin by English speaking scholars. There is much important work outside the movement I shall be describing, and within it there is no single line: indeed there is considerable ideological disagreement amongst the figures on whom I focus. But there are a number of common concerns, which I shall turn to in the third and final part of this paper, and many of the scholars in question would accept a loose confederation of ideas. There is also a common historical thread, in that many of them have had links at some stage in their careers with the University of Cambridge, or have been otherwise influenced by the work of Cambridge scholars. In the late 1960s, Cambridge produced a wave of "Young Turks" who brought New Critical methods into the study of Latin literature: the work of scholars like John Bramble, Oliver Lyne, and Tony Woodman will be familiar. That group of scholars was succeeded in the late 1970s and 1980s by a second wave of theoretically-aware younger scholars such as the ancient historian Mary Beard and the Hellenist Simon Goldhill. The most important figure however was undoubtedly the tremendously influential Latinist John Henderson who has been the driving force behind the whole "New Latin" movement. It was contact with him that was decisive in making many older scholars theoretically aware, and it is his pupils who have produced and continue to produce some of the most important new work - young scholars like Emily Gowers, Jamie Masters, and Alison Sharrock. But I have termed this an Anglo-American movement because several important figures in it now work in the United States, though "English-speaking" might be better still: Denis Feeney, who now teaches in Madison Wisconsin, and Stephen Hinds of the University of Washington in Seattle, both passed through Cambridge on their way to the United States, but the former is a New Zealander and the latter an Irishman. Their series Roman Literature and its Contexts, the first three volumes of which came out in 1993, played an important part in the battle of the group for intellectual hegemony. Two of the volumes in that series, by Duncan Kennedy and Charles Martindale, were by scholars who currently teach at Bristol University, which is another centre for New Latin in Britain. An important role has also been played by the periodical Ramus, edited by the first-wave Cambridge scholar Tony Boyle, who now teaches at the University of Southern California. One of the 1994 fascicles of that was devoted to the "New Cambridge Latin" and offers an introduction to some of the central figures.
I am not directly concerned in this paper with American Latin studies as such, which have their own dynamic, but the United States has undoubtedly been an important factor in the development of the New Latin as it developed from its Cambridge base. The US has always ironically been the main vector by which continental European literary theory has entered the English-speaking world, as most obviously with the reception of deconstruction at Yale and the apotheosis of Foucault on the West Coast. Within classical studies, American scholars like Charles Segal (also of course an important Latinist) and Froma Zeitlin were central in bringing French structuralist thought into Greek studies. Many aspects of the sociology of the American intellectual scene are relevant here, notably its "smorgasbord" capitalism and the highly competitive environment in which university departments work: if a department cannot offer intellectual excitement, it will die. The US is also the home of the modern women's movement, and American feminist scholarship has also had a great impact on recent developments in Latin, through scholars such as Judith Hallett, Georgia Nugent, and Amy Richlin. I shall come back to the feminist elements in the Anglo-American New Latin movement.
But if Paris-school structuralism has been central to developments in Greek studies, the New Latin has looked more to Italy, and especially to the Pisan school of Gian Biagio Conte and others associated with the periodical Materiali e Discussioni. The interchange, which began ironically from contacts with the Oxford classicists Oswyn Murray and Oliver Lyne, has taken various forms: some Italian scholars teach in the US, such as Alessandro Schiesaro in the important centre for theory in the US, Princeton, or have held visiting appointments, such as Maurizio Bettini at Berkeley: the 1995 Sather lectures in Berkeley were given by Conte himself. The contacts are much more widespread, however. An important figure is the younger Pisan Latinist Alessandro Barchiesi, who in his recent book on Ovid, Il Poeta e il Principe, acknowledges the help and influence of three key figures in the Anglo-American movement, Denis Feeney, Philip Hardie, and Stephen Hinds. His influence may similarly be discerned in much recent Anglo-American work. A good example of the reciprocity of contacts are the two articles on Ovid's Fasti by Hardie and Barchiesi which came out of the 1990 Laurence seminar on the text in Cambridge: Hardie's is published in Materiali e Discussioni, Barchiesi's in the Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society.
This brief sketch of what I have called the "New Latin" movement has naturally had to concentrate on the major figures, and the bibliography that I offer on the handout is similarly by no means complete: I have given only a few representative works by a few representative scholars. But so far my account has been intellectual history without intellectual content, and I have said little about what is distinctive about this body of scholarship in relation to traditional philology. In this final section of my paper, I should like to set out what I see as the common concerns and approaches which entitle me to treat the work of these scholars as representing a "movement". Again, I stress that this will inevitably mean that the degree of ideological dispute between the figures I have discussed will be underestimated: I can do no more than signal again that these are all also individual scholars working to their own agenda from their own intellectual starting-points.
The first, and most central, common concern of the New Latin is obviously an engagement with modern literary theory and a willingness to use the terminology and concepts associated with it. "Theory" of course is anything but monolithic, and many different theoretical lines may be traced in the work of the scholars in question: Derridan deconstruction, Lacanian psychoanalytic criticism, the radical historicism of Foucault and the so-called "New Historicism" of Greenblatt. What is common is an awareness of the constructed nature of literary interpretation, and consequently of the critic's own ideology as a determinant in the process of reading. This represent the most radical break with traditional philology, where the methods of interpretation are seen as ahistorical and objective, and the goal is the recovery of a meaning already present in the text. Traditional philology has of course always been concerned with methodology, but it has nevertheless essentially taken the act of reading for granted: the New Latin begins from the premise that how to read — what to do to a text — is problematic and theory-bound, not natural and easy. The degree of theoretical explicitness — and therefore also, to those unfamiliar with modern theory, the "difficulty" of the treatments — obviously varies, but this self-awareness marks a distinctive contrast to traditional philological discussion. Because what the critic does to a text is in any case not obvious or natural, but determined by theoretical presuppositions and cultural preconceptions, New Latin criticism does not feel bound to restrict itself to apparently "natural" or "obvious" surface readings. Many modern theoretical approaches are of course strongly allegorical, in that they attempt to get "behind" or "beneath" a surface meaning, however the "hidden" meaning is conceptualised, and this tendency is reinforced by the rejection of "intentionalism" common to many approaches: the reader is figured as operating on the text to produce meaning, rather than attempting to recover authorial intention. Some of the New Latin writing may thus appear to represent a violent assault on the texts in question — I think here especially of the work of John Henderson himself, where the complexity of his use of colloquial English is another problem for non-English speakers. But traditionally-minded scholars who wish to read texts differently have a duty to face the same questioning of their presuppositions as is common to the New Latin critics, rather than retreating into the shelter of authority and tradition.
This awareness of the role of the critic's own position is part of a more general stress on the insufficiency of the text itself to yield meaning which is a reaction to the New Critical emphasis on textual autonomy. In a sense here, the inheritance of structuralism joins with a traditional philological emphasis of the role of "context", however defined. To interpret a text, it needs to be read against a system of other texts and other codes. It is not surprising, therefore, that the analysis of intertextuality is a central tool of the New Latin, and one where the influence of Conte and Italian scholarship is most evident. There is no doubt that another factor has been the increased availability of concordances and of computer datasets such as the Packard Humanities Institute CD-ROM of Latin texts, which have made it easier to trace much smaller scale correspondences between texts. This emphasis on intertextual relations can be seen above all in the work of Stephen Hinds, whose book The Metamorphosis of Persephone is a meticulously detailed examination of the phenomenon in Ovid's Metamorphoses and Fasti. The accumulation of textual parallels has of course always been a feature of classical philology, variously motivated throughout its history and represented by such monuments of learning as the commentaries of Walter Headlam and A. S. Pease. One factor which is distinctive about the New Latin, however, is its stress on the role not of difference from a model but of traces of it, la traccia del modello in the words of the title of Alessandro Barchiesi's book. During the history of a language and a culture, the texts produced become more and more complex in the way in which these overlaying traces interact and affect reading. Latin literature is in general "belated" with respect to Greece: it comes after, when, as Vergil remarks in the Georgics, omnia iam vulgata. Post- romantic criticism — one thinks above all of German work from Richard Heinze's Virgils epische Technik to Von Albrecht's Silius Italicus — has for some time been revaluing this belatedness not as weakness but as strength, and this tendency has been greatly strengthened in New Latin work. This has in particular led to a great revaluation of so-called "Silver Latin", and in particular of Ovid, Lucan, Seneca, and the Flavian epicists, above all Statius, who has to an extent regained in New Latin criticism the position of centrality that he possessed in the Middle Ages. Once one moves beyond the banality of seeing allusion as "paying homage" or "signalling a debt", the dense intertextuality of these texts becomes an asset rather than a liability, a source of richness rather than a sign of a lack of originality.
Another aspect of this revaluation of Silver Latin is the treatment of unity. The classic virtue of the poem simplex et unum was highly prized by the New Criticism, whose aim was often to produce readings which related all possible aspects of a text together: a fruitful interpretative stance, because it encouraged critics to attempt to bring as much as possible of the texts they were studying within the frame of their interpretation, but one which often encountered problems with the variations of tone and register in later Latin. Structuralism famously intensified this project with its attempts to list and interpret all the equivalencies (in the Jacobsonian sense) of literary works : but with the final demonstration of its impossibility by post-structuralism, criticism moved from trying to demonstrate unity to revealing the fissures and gaps of the text, its inability to be pulled together in a totalising hermeneutic act. Like German Romanticism of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, this new poetic celebrates deferral and the fragment, and delights in demonstrating how texts resist, rather than collaborate with, all-encompassing readings: and this is a poetic which is obviously suited to what earlier scholars had only criticised as the incoherence of Silver Latin. One of the most dazzling examples of this approach is the study of Lucan by Jamie Master's (a pupil of John Henderson) entitled Poetry and Civil War in Lucan's Bellum Civile. As the title suggests, Masters produces a compelling reading of the Bellum Civile as a text at war with itself, its style mirroring the conflict it describes, hopelessly riven between a Republican ethics and politics and a Caesarian aesthetic of force and violence. This "incoherence" is however not criticised but celebrated as the only appropriate response to the conflict which is its subject.
In thus enforcing a confrontation between the politics of the Bellum Civile and its linguistic practices, Master's study shows another characteristic of the New Latin, perhaps the most important of all in determining its tone: its constant awareness of the politics of interpretation. Any close literary study, particularly one which puts an emphasis on phenomena such as intertextuality, is liable to the charge of formalism, of isolating literary texts from the social and cultural contexts: this is a charge, for instance, against which Conte has had several times to defend himself, most recently in the English edition of Genres and Readers. The New Latin has certainly on occasions found itself in opposition to the cruder forms of historicism which naively attempt to reduce literary texts to their most obvious historical references, and it shows the familiar post-modern fascination with devices like the mise-en-abyme. In particular, the codification of Callimachean symbolism in the 1960s and 70s provided powerful tools for reading everything from rivers and springs to paths and journeys in terms of poetics, and especially the opposition between epic and smaller scale genres. One direction this work can take is towards a view of literature as a self-contained system, and this tendency can be seen in some recent criticism. The New Latin, however, has resolutely politicised these oppositions, and insisted on seeing the Callimachean system as being as much about politics as aesthetics: and not just ancient politics. It has taken seriously the Marxist insight that nothing is truly outside politics, least of all such subjects as love and sex which are often seen as paradigmatically "private". If its focus is on the complexities of textuality, it also takes seriously Derrida's remark that nothing is outside text, that all aspects of society and culture at some level are presented in texts and relate to each other as texts. A powerful example of this politicised aesthetic is Philip Hardie's study of Silver Latin epic, The Epic Successors of Virgil. Using especially the Girardian theories of scapegoating and sacrifice that have been so productive in Greek studies, Hardie sees the intertextual struggle of Silver Latin epic to recuperate and transcend its Vergilian model as a mirror for the continual struggle of the Roman empire to reach a resolution of the violence out of which it was born. A poem like the Thebaid is not simply about poetics or about politics: poetics and politics are inescapably linked.
What is particularly distinctive about this politicisation of poetics, as I remarked above, is that it includes within its sphere the political stance of the critic himself — or herself. The critic cannot simply accept antiquity and the classical tradition as an aesthetic ideal outside time, but must constantly confront its ideologies: reading cannot be innocent, and the critic must accept the responsibility of confronting the politics of interpretation. The area in which this has become more and more important is that of sexual politics. This goes far beyond the question of the explicit representation of "women's life" in texts or the criticism of women writers like Sappho or Sulpicia: feminism is as relevant to the martial epic as to love elegy, and classical studies has to confront the question of how far philology itself as it has developed is gendered. To many, the pursuit of an unemotional detachment and a single univocal meaning will seem just two more familiar examples of phallic neurosis. The gendered aspects of many of the oppositions around which Latin criticism constructs its literary history are particularly clear: the soft genres like love elegy set against the hard virility of epic, the manly control of the Golden Age set against the decadence and effeminacy of the Silver. Feminist criticism is no more monolithic than any other branch: some classical examples show how patriarchy pervades even the most apparently "liberal" texts, others how even the most obviously patriarchal text may be subverted by a determined reader. But whatever the stance, the New Latin treatment of gender has made it difficult for writers in English to talk blithely of "the reader" as an ungendered figure outside of history or to think that the terminology of criticism itself is gender-neutral. This may also be increasingly true of sexual orientation, where the impact of "queer studies" is beginning to show itself in classical studies as well.
In simultaneously engaging with both ancient and modern ideology, the New Latin has emphatically proclaimed its historical situatedness: to read a Latin text involves the critic on many different levels of political engagement. It is not surprising therefore that the history of criticism itself has become a focus of attention. For positivism, past interpretations are simply old science, examples of ways of reading now superseded by more modern techniques; for historicism, they are extraneous layers which obscure the original kernel of the text and which must be stripped away to reveal it in all its bright novelty. Where the New Latin has engaged with the reception of classical texts, however, it has seen the palimpsest of interpretation as more like an onion: strip away the layers, and what you will be left with is nothing at all. We must — and in any case inevitably will — read as children of our own time, but the study of past readings can offer us new ways of seeing, as for instance Charles Martindale argues in his provocatively entitled Redeeming the Text. At the very least, it can help to free us from any belief that somehow we are getting it right: that there is one way to read. Again, classical studies has always been interested in its own history: what is new in the more recent work on reception is its integration with the primary act of criticism. Reading Vergil and reading T. S. Eliot reading Vergil are not two separate activities, nor is one necessarily any more primary than the other. At the most basic level, this has encompassed readings of Vergil "through" Flavian epic, as in Philip Hardie's Ramus piece of 1990, "Flavian epicists on Virgil's Epic Technique", which uses the links between Vergilian passages established explicitly by Valerius Flaccus, Statius, and Silius Italicus as the starting-point for readings of the Vergilian originals: more generally, New Latin critics have been uninhibited in using material from contemporary culture to illuminate the ancient texts, seen in its most extreme form in John Henderson's use of popular song in a piece like his study of Horace Epode 8, "Suck it and See".
The sketch that I have offered here of the work of these "New Latin" critics is, I stress again, an inevitably partial one. Some aspects have had to be ignored entirely, such as the importance of French and Dutch narratology — Genette, Bal — by which I have myself been particularly influenced. Again, the degree to which the various scholars I have been describing would be happy to see themselves collected together as a school or movement varies: certainly none would like to be constrained by any such grouping iurare in verba magistri. The US side of recent work has also been neglected, both those who have links to the group like Joseph Farrell of the University of Pennsylvania and a number of important theoretically-aware scholars who represent an independent tradition, such as Tom Habinek in California. There is no doubt, however, that the work on which I have focused has produced in English-speaking Latin circles a degree of excitement that has not been seen since the 1960s, and has been influential in encouraging graduate students to work in Latin rather than Greek. The future directions of the movement are naturally, and healthily, uncertain: as it becomes the dominant paradigm within English-speaking Latin, it will have to negotiate the central problem of all revolutionary movements, of how it preserves its dynamic when it has become the establishment against which it revolted. Although my presentation of it here has been that of a partisan, I stress again that I do not wish to offer it to you as the only way forward for Latin, as yet another colonisation attempt. But in its direct and uncompromising confrontation with the problem of modernity with which I began, the New Latin movement does present a challenge which all classical scholars have to face: how do we continue to speak to our contemporaries, and thus continue to play a role in the intellectual life of our cultures? This time round, the retreat into the monasteries is not even an option: far better to take our chances out there on the streets.
"Anglo-American" "New (Cambridge) Latin": some examples
'Lucan / The Word at War' in A.J. Boyle, ed., The Imperial Muse 1(Aureal 1988 [ = Ramus 16 (1987) 122-164])
'Suck it and See (Horace Epode 8)' pages 105-118 in M. Whitby, P. Hardie, and M. Whitby edd. Homo Viator, Classical Essays for John Bramble (Bristol 1987)
'Livy and the invention of history', pages 64-85 in A. Cameron ed.. History as Text: the writing of ancient history. (London1989).
'Satire Writes Woman: Gendersong' PCPhS 35 (1989) 50-80
'Tacitus / The World in Pieces' in A. J. Boyle ed. The Imperial Muse 2 (Aureal 1990 [ = Ramus 18 (1989) 167-210])
'Statius' Thebaid / Form Premade' PCPhS n.s. 37, (1991) 30-79.
'Form remade / Statius' Thebaid", pages 162-91 in A. J. Boyle ed. Roman Epic. (London 1993).
'Wrapping up the Case: Reading Ovid, Amores, 2, 7 (+ 8)' MD 27 (1991) 37-88, 28 (1992) 27- 83
'Be Alert (Your Country Needs Lerts): Horace, Satires 1.9' PCPhS 39 (1993) 67-93
'Seductions of Art: Encolpius and Eumolpus in a Neronian Picture Gallery' PCPhS 39 (1993) 30-47
Reflections of Nero: culture, history & representation ed. Jas Elsner & Jamie Masters (London 1994)
The Gods in Epic (Oxford 1991)
'The taciturnity of Aeneas', CQ n.s. 33 (1983) 204-19, reprinted in Oxford Readings in Vergil's Aeneid , ed. S. J. Harrison (Oxford, 1990), 166-90
'The reconciliations of Juno', CQ n.s. 34 (1984) 179-94, reprinted in Oxford Readings 339-62
'Following after Hercules, in Apollonius and Vergil', PVS 18 (1986), 47-83
'Si licet et fas est: Ovid's Fasti and the problem of free speech under the Principate', pages 1-25 in Roman Poetry and Propaganda in the Age of Augustus, ed. A. Powell (Bristol 1992)
' "Shall I compare thee ...?" Catullus 68 and the limits of analogy', pages 33-44 in A. J. Woodman and J. Powell edd. Author and Audience in Latin Literature (Cambridge, 1992)
'First Thoughts on Closure: Problems and Prospects' MD 22 (1989) 75-122
'Deviant Focalisation in Virgil's Aeneid' PCPhS 216 (1990) 42-63
'Narrate and Describe: the Problem of Ekphrasis', JHS (1991) 81, 25-35.
(1994) "Postmodernism, Romantic Irony, and Classical Closure", pages 231-56 in I. J. F. de Jong and J. P. Sullivan Modern Critical Theory and Classical Literature. (Leiden etc 1994).
The Loaded Table: representations of food in Roman literature (Oxford 1994)
Virgil's Aeneid: Cosmos and Imperium. Oxford 1986).
The Epic Successors of Virgil. (Cambridge 1993)
'Ovid's Theban History: the first 'Anti-Aeneid'?', CQ 40 (1990) 224-235.
'Flavian epicists on Virgil's epic technique' in A. J. Boyle ed. The Imperial Muse 2 (Aureal 1990 [ = Ramus 18 (1989) 3-20])
'The Aeneid and the Oresteia',PVS 20, (1991) 29-45.
The Metamorphosis of Persephone: Ovid and the Self-conscious Muse (Cambridge 1987)
'Generalising about Ovid' in A.J. Boyle, ed., The Imperial Muse 1(Aureal 1988 [ = Ramus 16 (1987) 4-31])
'arma in Ovid's Fasti Part 1: Genre and Mannerism, Part 2: Genre, Romulean Rome and Augustan Ideology' Arethusa 25 (1992) 81-153
'Medea in Ovid: Scenes from the Life of an Intertextual Heroine' Materiali e Discussioni 30 (1993) 9-47
The Arts of Love (Cambridge 1993)
' "Augustan" and "Anti-Augustan" : reflections on terms of reference', pages 26-58 in A. Powell ed. Roman poetry and propaganda in the age of Augustus, London (1992).
'Fiction, Bewitchment, and Story Worlds: The Implications of Claims to Truth in Apuleius' pages 147- 174 in C. Gill and T. P. Wiseman edd. Lies and Fiction in the Ancient World (Exeter 1993)
'Sounding out Ecphrasis: Art and Text in Catullus 64' JRS 83 (1993) 18-35
Redeeming the Text (Cambridge 1993)
Professing Latin. Inaugural lecture, (Bristol1993)
Poetry and civil war in Lucan's Bellum civile (Cambridge 1992)
Seduction and Repetition in Ovid's Ars Amatoria (Oxford 1994)
'The love of creation' Ramus 20 (1991) 169-182
'Ovid and the Politics of Reading' MD forthcoming.
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