Scholia Reviews ns 18 (2009) 19.

Werner Riess (ed.), Paideia at Play: Learning and Wit in Apuleius. Groningen: Barkhuis Publishing & Groningen University Library, 2008. Pp. xxi + 302. ISBN 978-90-77922-415. Euro90.00. Further Details.

J. L. Hilton
Classics, University of KwaZulu-Natal, Durban, South Africa

This book falls into two almost equal parts: the first concerns the Apology (pp. 1-132), the second the Metamorphoses (pp. 133-250). Despite some disagreement among the contributors in the first part on the question of the historicity of the Apology,[[1]] the theme of Paideia at Play is consistently adhered to throughout the collection.

In Chapter 1, ‘The Sophist at Play in Court’ (pp. 3-15), Harrison argues that the display of learning in the Apology of Apuleius 'is intended to promote not just his aquittal but his incipient sophistic career' (p. 3). In this speech, Apuleius shows off his 'cultural capital' – a key idea in the book.[[2]] In the Apology Apuleius refers to his poetry (6.1-3), his scientific works (29-41), his work on art criticism (33.7), and his rhetorical works (24.1). The absence of the Metamorphoses from this list suggests that it had not been composed at the time of the trial. On this reading the Apology 'inaugurates the literary activity as public speaker at Carthage in the 160's evidenced by the Florida, and its intertextual density and cultural reach look forward to the later achievement of the Metamorphoses. In the Apology we see the sophist at play with his status as writer and reader in a prominent court case, but that play is impressive and aims successfully at the foundation of a major literary career' (p. 15).

Rives argues in Chapter 2, ‘Legal Strategy and Learned Display in Apuleius’ Apology (pp. 17-49), that 'Apuleius' displays of learning, far from being gratuitous, are in fact absolutely central to his strategy in countering the charge brought against him' (p. 17). He views the speech as 'a real defense against a real charge' (p. 18) and makes the useful point that the case would have been heard as a cognitio extra ordinem and that the terms of the Lex Cornelia are therefore a red herring. The case for the prosecution was based on the argument that Apuleius was a magus who used his arcane power to seduce Pudentilla. To refute this, Apuleius needed to show that he was a legitimate philosopher and not a pretender to the title. To this end he gave a display of erudition in the speech, making use of quotations, lists, and 'problems' (p. 45) that constituted the very core of his defence (p. 49). Rive notes that Dio Chrysostom (32.8-9) and Lucian (Fug. 16) inveigh against false philosophers. He might also have cited a text closer to Apuleius (Flor. 7.9-13). Also, if Apollonius of Tyana was a magus (pp. 32f.) and if Apuleius on trial for being like him, it is worth asking why Apollonius was not put on trial. Clearly, there was more to the case brought against Apuleius, if indeed it actually ever took place at all.

The third chapter, ‘Apuleius Socrates Africanus? Apuleius’ Defensive Play’ (pp. 51-73), has Riess arguing that Apuleius regarded himself as a second Socrates, but of a very different kind from the original, a Socrates Africanus (p. 51). Riess begins by pointing out the similarities between Apuleius and Socrates: like Socrates, Apuleius was justifying philosophy against the criticism of the ignorant; both speeches are given the title Apologia; and Apuleius' speech contains numerous parallels with Plato's (for example, dramatization, irony, and direct references to the asebeia of Socrates, his introduction of new gods, and his corruption of the young men in his charge). Further, the second century love of rhetorical role-playing (meletai) is conducive to the production of a speech that imitates Plato's defence. However, the two speeches are by no means identical: the two authors had different ideas of wisdom (sophia); they display different attitudes to death and poverty; Apuleius is not concerned with education but only with self-display; lastly, whereas Socrates provokes his judges, Apuleius tries to bring them over to his side. These differences indicate that 'Apuleius plays with the literary persona of the Platonic and Xenophontic Socrates by making erudite allusions to him and deliberately deviating from him' (p. 70). His use of irony is more complex than that of Plato's, and the exact character of the persona conjured up by Apuleius in the speech is difficult to pin down. The reference to a Socrates Africanus in the title of this chapter is rather specious as there is in fact no discussion of the 'African' character of the persona Apuleius presents in the speech.

In Chapter 4, ‘Homer in Apuleius’ Apology’ (pp. 75-87), Hunink investigates Apuleius' use of Homeric texts in the Apology, such as the reference to 'Homer's Alexander' (4.1), the 'wall of teeth' (7.4-6), poverty (18.6-8), and magic (31.5-8), and their 'sub-texts' (the name Alexander makes Apuleius Paris and Pudentilla Helen and it recalls the figure of Alexander the Great; mention of poverty equates Apuleius with the beggar Odysseus; the references to Polydamna's 'drugs of healing' invokes malevolent magic). Many of these allusions are not entirely suited to Apuleius' case, but the playful allusion to them helps him to make fun of the accusations. In any case, Hunink views the Apology as a 'literary showpiece' rather than an authentic self-defence (p. 86, n. 32).

Chapter 5, ‘The “Riches” of Poverty: Literary Games with Poetry in Apuleius’ Laus Paupertatis’ (pp. 89-104), investigates Apuleius' treatment of the theme of poverty (esp. Apology 18). The author, Thomas McCreight, contextualises his discussion within the philosophical and literary use of poverty. His method (p. 91) is to investigate prior uses of key phrases relating to poverty which occur in Apology 18 (vernacula, parvo potens, aemula laudis, benesuada, repertrix). These are found chiefly in Plautus, Vergil, and Cicero. Apuleius uses these intertexts to undercut the charge by the prosecution that he seduced Pudentilla in order to acquire her wealth, because he was poor, by showing that claims to poverty had a long tradition in Greek and Latin literature and philosophy (p. 93). The words and phrases that McCreight selects for discussion are more common than he suggests: aemulus laudis, for example, is found also in Cic. Phil. 2.28, Nepos Att. 5.4, Ovid Met. 6.83, Val. Max. 4.3.10, Pliny Pan. 70.3; malesuadus occurs in Statius Theb. 11.656, Sil. Ital. Pun. 15.501; and words ending in -trix are common in Apuleius because of his well-known striving for rhyme.

Stefan Tilg argues in Chapter 6, ‘Eloquentia Ludens: Apuleius’ Apology and the Cheerful Side of Standing Trial’ (pp. 105-132), that Apuleius makes use of a 'rhetorical programme' (p. 105) of literary playfulness (esp. Apol. 5-13) in order to establish a coherent defence against the charge of magic in the Apology. This 'rhetorical programme' is established in Apol. 5, where the concept of playful eloquence is discussed and Apol. 6, through humorous quotations of Apuleius' own poems in the neoteric style of Catullus. It is revisited in the rest of the speech, especially in the motif of Apuleius' sincerity and disingenuous oratory, in the humorous figure of the statuette of Mercury (Mercuriolus 62.8, 63.4), and in the pleasant interchange between Pontianus, Lollianus Avitus, and Apuleius (Apol. 94). Tilg himself admits (p. 105) that his reading is unable to account for all aspects of the Apology.

The transition to the Metamorphoses is made in Chapter 7, ‘Cenatus Solis Fabulis? A Symposiastic Reading of Apuleius’ Novel’ (pp. 135-155), by Maaike Zimmerman, who interprets the Metamorphoses as a text that belongs to the tradition of spoudaiogeloion. According to her there is a 'dynamic relation' (p. 138) between the comic and the serious in the novel that has its origins in symposiastic literature. She offers an interpretation of several 'symposiastic' episodes (p. 139) in the novel that reveal a close relationship between author and public that is characteristic of the genre. These episodes are: the prologue, Met. 1.4.1, 1.7. 1.26 (cenatus solis fabulis), 2.19-21 (the banquet of Byrrhaena), 4.7.5-4.22 (the robbers banquet), 10.13-15 (the convivium of Thiasus). These episodes 'act as a foil for the undeniable presence in the novel of the other, Platonic Symposion' (p. 151), which, like Apuleius' own lost Quaestiones Convivales, had a serious educational purpose. Zimmerman suggests that the Metamorphoses are dialogic in form, just as Plato's Symposium is, and that this may explain the inconclusive treatment of Lucius' redemption by Isis in Book 11 of the novel. Zimmerman concludes by speculating that the Metamorphoses 'might have had a convivium as its original venue' (p. 154).

Robert Vander Poppen follows in Chapter 8, ‘A Festival of Laughter: Lucius, Milo and Isis Playing the Game of Hospitium’ (pp. 157-174). He applies recent discussions of hospitality in the ancient world to the Metamorphoses (p. 158). He contends that 'one possible reading of the Metamorphoses is to see the text as a story about a quest for suitable hospitium. It is my contention that Apuleius has created an artful play between Lucius' behavior in guest-host relationship and his battle against his serviles voluptates and curiositas' (p. 160). Vander Poppen shows that the hospitium of Milo shows a contrast with Callimachus' Hecale. Milo's house is poor, but this is due to his meanness not his poverty (p. 163). Lucius is not a god or hero, but a 'flawed human' (p. 164), who refuses to partake of the meal offered to him. On the other hand, Byrrhena proves to be a model hostess. As a result of his curiositas, Lucius chooses to stay with and defend Milo. At his trial at the festival of laughter, he emphasises his ties with Milo, although Milo does not appear in his defence, but ultimately he breaks the relationship through his curiousity about the magical powers of Pamphile. At the conclusion of the novel he is reinstated by Isis as an act of hospitium (p. 170), although this is portrayed as servitium rather than true hospitality. Vander Poppen specifically excludes a discussion of the theme of hospitality shown to Lucius in his asinine form (p. 170).

Next, Greene argues in Chapter 9, ‘Social Commentary in the Metamorphoses: Apuleius’ Play with Satire’ (pp. 175-193), that there are two levels within the Metamorphoses: a literary level which entertains through laughter and a historical one that comments on the social context of the work (p. 175). Greene's aim is 'to address these two levels of reading in the novel and to align Apuleius' work with the satirical tradition in order to suggest that we can accept both a comic and a serious purpose for the Metamorphoses' (p. 175). She then proceeds to compare Apuleius' Metamorphoses with the Satires of Juvenal. Much work has already been done on the relationship between the Metamorphoses and satire. Greene occasionally overstates her case. For example, she claims (p. 179) that the Metamorphoses is 'a far better candidate than the Satyrica for connecting the Roman novel to the satirical tradition' on the grounds of the 'undeniably moralizing thread' that runs through it. This statement rather begs the question of what satire is, but clearly Greene does not want to get bogged down in this theoretical point. Many readers would probably accept that the contrast between virtue and Fortune, and virtue and status are thematic in the book, and that it reflects much of the historical reality of the second century, without agreeing that the Metamorphoses is therefore a satire. Much of the social comment in the Metamorphoses remains implicit rather than explicit and, as Greene acknowledges, the criticism of Lucius becomes ironic when he reflects that he is after all only an ass (10.33). It is Lucius' ironic detachment that makes his observations less satirical and more philosophical.

In Chapter 10, ‘Playing with Elegy: Tales of Lovers in Books 1 and 2 of Apuleius’ Metamorphoses’ (pp. 195-214), Amanda Mathis contends that 'elegy provides many of the paradigms for Lucius' misadventures in the novel' (p. 196). In her discussion elegiac character types such as the puella, domina, lena, anus, saga, exclusus amator, provide an elegiac framework in the novel. Mathis shows that Lucius misreads the elegaic message by making Photis his lover first, rather than the mistress (Met. 2.6.5-7, cp. Ovid Ars Amatoria 1.351-386). Mathis notes that 'throughout Books 1 and 2 of his Metamorphoses, Apuleius consistently deploys character types familiar from Roman elegy in a complex literary game that results in near-constant role changing among his characters' (p. 213). The reader of the Metamorphoses needs to be constantly alert to these shifts and to 'decipher who and what each of the characters is in Apuleius' ever-changing and highly allusive game with Roman elegy. It is this that gives the reader pleasure in reading.

In the penultimate chapter, ‘Vigilans Somniabar: Some Narrative Uses of Dreams in Apuleius’ Metamorphoses’ (pp. 215-233), David Carlisle focuses on the relevance of dreams to the conversion of Lucius in Book 11. Carlisle ask why dreams are the vehicle for Lucius' experience of Isis (p. 216). He argues (pp. 216-217) that both 'placement and the way dreams are treated when they do occur create a very specific effect (one which may even account for the diversity of interpretations the novel has received.)' Dreams 'serve as an interpretive model for accepting as "real" in a figurative sense (real inasmuch as they are "really" perceived and experienced) events which seem otherwise impossible or at least highly improbable because they lie outside "normal" experience; second, dreams serve as a form of communication and authorization, explaining or revealing things to the dreamer' (p. 217). In the course of this chapter, Carlisle analyses the blurring of dream and reality in the dream of Aristomenes (1.18.2-3, 7), in Lucius' witnessing of Pamphile's transformation (3.22.1-2), the dreams of Charite (4.27, 8.14), the dream of the baker's daughter (9.31.1), Lucius' dream in Book 11 (11.21), and the dream of Asinius Marcellus (11.27). The last dream makes 'a man from Madauros' (Lucius) appear in the dream of the priest of Osiris. In doing so, it emphasises the obvious point that all the characters in the novel are fictional, literary creations (p. 233), but also makes a gesture towards the reader, who needs to interpet this enigmatic allusion to the author of the novel.

Finally, Niall Slater, ‘Apuleian Ecphraseis: Depiction at Play’ (pp. 235-250), analyses two ecphraseis -- Lucius' description of Hypata (2.1-2) and the description of Psyche in the palace of Cupid (5.1-2) as contrasting meditations on vision and desire (p. 249). Whereas Lucius desire to see acts of magic in the city prevent him from actually seeing the city, Psyche sees everything in the palace vividly and comes to desire them. In Slater's analysis these ecphraseis are innovations by Apuleius in which he departs from the narrative of the Greek Onos in an expression of rhetorical playfulness. The novel is a kind of extended melete in which he 're-writes motivations, adds speeches and descriptions, and fundamentally re-imagines the whole narrative’ (p. 249). Slater provides a subtle account of these two scenes in the novel and offers many tantalising observations (the palace of Cupid resembles that of Nero in that it glows with internal light, Lucius' account of Hypata shows intriguing similarities with the description of Alexandria in Achilles Tatius, 5.1).[[2]]

The contributors range from emergent scholars to well-known authorities on Apuleius. While the overall theme of the collection will not drastically shift our understanding of this enigmatic intellectual and his work, the authors of this book have explored the many facets of his second century paideia with appropriate erudition and good humour.

NOTES

[[1]] See, for example, p. 52, n. 6; p. 75, n. 3; p. 90, n. 9.

[[2]] Harrison refers to P. Bourdieu (tr. R. Nice), Distinction: A Social Critique of the Theory of Taste (London 1984) for the concept of cultural capital.

[[3]] The book is as usual with Barkhuis productions very thoroughly done. However, the lack of paragraph indentation is a pervasive problem (pp. 55, 68, 109. ‘Aritstotle’ should be ‘Aristotle’ (p. 57) and ‘sittig’ should be ‘sitting’ (p. 149). The blank page (to accommodate a footnote) at p. 87 is unfortunate. Finally, the abstracts and brief biographies of the authors are unnecessary, especially in view of the price of the book.