1,720,997 research outputs found
Plus ratio quam vis. Od mimochodem rzuconej sentencji do dewizy uniwersyteckiej
Plus ratio quam vis, or, the career of a sentence Although the Jagiellonian University was established as early as in 1364, its widelyrecognized motto was chosen and inscribed on the portico leading from the Assembly Hall to Copernicus Hall much later, only in the mid-twentieth century. In 1952, Professor Karol Estreicher Jr., the head of the University Museum, came across a sentence which he considered “worth being the Jagiellonian University’s motto” (the inscription was eventually carved on the portico in 1964). Apparently, all that Estreicher knew was that the phrase plus ratio quam vis was “a part of a Latin proverb.” He had no idea whatsoever of its author or the original context in which it had been used. Frequently (still too frequently, in truth) the phrase is quoted as coined by Cornelius Gallus, usually labeled, after Ovid, the first of the elegiac poets of Rome. The mistake is justifiable, at least to some extent, as the actual author of the poetic work in which the hemistich appears was for quite a long time mistaken for Cornelius Gallus. After Pomponius Gauricus’s edition of Cornelii Galli Fragmenta (Venice, 1501 die. XII. Ianuarii, which actually means 1502, as the date is indicated more veneto), the elegiac oeuvre by Maximianus, an author active in sixth-century Italy, was, so to speak, redefined as Gallus’s. Until the late eighteenth century the false attribution continued to be repeated by many other editors, who in fact very willingly published collections of the Roman love poets, Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius, and ‘Gallus’ (= Maximianus). It is to some point ironic that in the modern era Maximianus was so easily deprived of the ‘copyright’ to his own poetry, considering that earlier, in the Middle Ages, he was an author (relatively) well-known (under his real name) and even read in and recommended for schools. This aspect brings us back to our main topic here, i.e. the choice of Maximianus’s phrase as the motto of the Jagiellonian University, one of the oldest universities in the world. Karol Estreicher himself was presumably not aware of this but Maximianus was indeed studied in the Kraków Academy in mid-fifteenth century (as two manuscripts, BJ 1954 and 2141, preserved in the Jagiellonian Library, clearly indicate). He was studied for his vivid descriptions of old age (for which he was celebrated among many medieval commentators and theorists of teaching, who apparently were not at all embarrassed by the fact that their students, when reading Maximianus, might have also read a laus Mentulae) and for his sententiositas. What is more, the Jagiellonian Library possesses a considerable collection of incunabula and old prints containing Maximianus’s (or ‘Gallus’s’) work. So paradoxically, Karol Estreicher could not have chosen better. The motto of UJ is related to its history, in the sense that it is taken from an author whose work was on the reading list in the Academy in the later Middle Ages, it is concise, intelligent, significant, and ‘decent,’ even though it was originally expressed by a poet who was not less efficient when coining memorable sententiae than when singing the praises of Mentula, the embodiment of human corporeality
Plus ratio quam vis. Od mimochodem rzuconej sentencji do dewizy uniwersyteckiej
Plus ratio quam vis, or, the career of a sentence Although the Jagiellonian University was established as early as in 1364, its widelyrecognized motto was chosen and inscribed on the portico leading from the Assembly Hall to Copernicus Hall much later, only in the mid-twentieth century. In 1952, Professor Karol Estreicher Jr., the head of the University Museum, came across a sentence which he considered “worth being the Jagiellonian University’s motto” (the inscription was eventually carved on the portico in 1964). Apparently, all that Estreicher knew was that the phrase plus ratio quam vis was “a part of a Latin proverb.” He had no idea whatsoever of its author or the original context in which it had been used. Frequently (still too frequently, in truth) the phrase is quoted as coined by Cornelius Gallus, usually labeled, after Ovid, the first of the elegiac poets of Rome. The mistake is justifiable, at least to some extent, as the actual author of the poetic work in which the hemistich appears was for quite a long time mistaken for Cornelius Gallus. After Pomponius Gauricus’s edition of Cornelii Galli Fragmenta (Venice, 1501 die. XII. Ianuarii, which actually means 1502, as the date is indicated more veneto), the elegiac oeuvre by Maximianus, an author active in sixth-century Italy, was, so to speak, redefined as Gallus’s. Until the late eighteenth century the false attribution continued to be repeated by many other editors, who in fact very willingly published collections of the Roman love poets, Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius, and ‘Gallus’ (= Maximianus). It is to some point ironic that in the modern era Maximianus was so easily deprived of the ‘copyright’ to his own poetry, considering that earlier, in the Middle Ages, he was an author (relatively) well-known (under his real name) and even read in and recommended for schools. This aspect brings us back to our main topic here, i.e. the choice of Maximianus’s phrase as the motto of the Jagiellonian University, one of the oldest universities in the world. Karol Estreicher himself was presumably not aware of this but Maximianus was indeed studied in the Kraków Academy in mid-fifteenth century (as two manuscripts, BJ 1954 and 2141, preserved in the Jagiellonian Library, clearly indicate). He was studied for his vivid descriptions of old age (for which he was celebrated among many medieval commentators and theorists of teaching, who apparently were not at all embarrassed by the fact that their students, when reading Maximianus, might have also read a laus Mentulae) and for his sententiositas. What is more, the Jagiellonian Library possesses a considerable collection of incunabula and old prints containing Maximianus’s (or ‘Gallus’s’) work. So paradoxically, Karol Estreicher could not have chosen better. The motto of UJ is related to its history, in the sense that it is taken from an author whose work was on the reading list in the Academy in the later Middle Ages, it is concise, intelligent, significant, and ‘decent,’ even though it was originally expressed by a poet who was not less efficient when coining memorable sententiae than when singing the praises of Mentula, the embodiment of human corporeality
"Quemlibet dehortari ne… senectutis vicia desideret" : Maximianus’s elegy on old age and a few examples of its medieval reception
The present paper is devoted to Maximianus, and in particular to the motif of mala senectutis as developed by this late antique (6th cent. A.D.) Latin elegiac poet. After discussing some particularly informative passages, I focus on Maximianus’s interpretations and reinterpretations by Columbanus (543 – 615), Eugenius of Toledo († 657), and the anonymous author of the ninth century Imitatio Maximiani. I also point out his presence in vernacular medieval literature, namely English. Last but not least, I demonstrate how Maximianus’s image of an old man praying to Mother Earth inspired one of medieval scribes copying his text (in ms BJ 2141)
Perypetie Maksymiana, czyli o paratekstach, zmienności gustów czytelniczych i łabędzim śpiewie elegii rzymskiej
Varied were the vicissitudes of Maximianus, whose unique opus elegiacum marks a swan song of sorts of the Roman elegy. No less interesting, however, are the changes in the reception of this text, i.e., following H.R. Jauss’s understanding of the term, in the modes of its interpretation by readers through the centuries. They can be efficiently traced by analyzing varied codicological data and, in particular, some paratexts (introductory notes/accessus, marginal notations, tituli, subscriptiones etc.) accompanying the author and his work as transmitted in a manuscript or an early printed book. Such data provide also us with a great deal of information concerning the generic classification of a text, as based on the Erwartungshorizont, or the horizon of expectations of its literary audience at a certain moment in history. As I demonstrate throughout my article, the historical flexibility of the interpretations of Maximianus’s opus is an excellent example of the above-mentioned phenomenon.Varied were the vicissitudes of Maximianus, whose unique opus elegiacum marks a swan song of sorts of the Roman elegy. No less interesting, however, are the changes in the reception of this text, i.e., following H.R. Jauss’s understanding of the term, in the modes of its interpretation by readers through the centuries. They can be efficiently traced by analyzing varied codicological data and, in particular, some paratexts (introductory notes/accessus, marginal notations, tituli, subscriptiones etc.) accompanying the author and his work as transmitted in a manuscript or an early printed book. Such data provide also us with a great deal of information concerning the generic classification of a text, as based on the Erwartungshorizont, or the horizon of expectations of its literary audience at a certain moment in history. As I demonstrate throughout my article, the historical flexibility of the interpretations of Maximianus’s opus is an excellent example of the above-mentioned phenomenon
Sąd Parysa. Widowisko pantomimiczne (w relacji filozoficznego osła)
This paper focuses on the description of a pantomimic spectacle given by Apuleius in the 10th book of his Metamorphoses. Set in a theater in Corinth and narrated by Lucius the ass, this performance relates the story of the judgment of Paris. Lucius, as the viewer of the performance (and, from our perspective, its main teller), styles himself as an objective ‘connoisseur’ of the art of pantomime. Upon a closer look, however, one realizes that he has been absorbed by the scenic illusion and takes it for his own reality. Consequently, despite his penchant for philosophizing, he turns out to be not merely Lucius the ass, but an asinine philosopher, indeed.This paper focuses on the description of a pantomimic spectacle given by Apuleius in the 10th book of his Metamorphoses. Set in a theater in Corinth and narrated by Lucius the ass, this performance relates the story of the judgment of Paris. Lucius, as the viewer of the performance (and, from our perspective, its main teller), styles himself as an objective ‘connoisseur’ of the art of pantomime. Upon a closer look, however, one realizes that he has been absorbed by the scenic illusion and takes it for his own reality. Consequently, despite his penchant for philosophizing, he turns out to be not merely Lucius the ass, but an asinine philosopher, indeed
"The Martial of the Vandals". The scoptic epigram of Luxorios and the tradition of the genre
This paper is devoted to scoptic epigrams of Luxorius, the “Carthaginian Martial” as he is of- ten named, an author active in Carthage during the last decades of the Vandal occupation of North Africa in the sixth century A.D. I focus first on the question of the genre as understood ad em- ployed by the poet, demonstrating that Luxorius can be seen as probably the first ancient epigram- matist to continue or even to return to the well-organized and disciplined variety typical of Mar- tial’s books of epigrams. Luxorius, like Martial, displays a true technical mastery in using various metrical forms; indeed, he surpasses his master employing thirteen different meters in his eighty nine poems (Martial used ‘only’ eight meters in 1,561 epigrams). Nevertheless, for both poets it is clear that the dominant meter of the epigrammatic genre must be the elegiac distich, other meters being exploitable only at certain occasions as, for example, in the opening programmatic poem for which the ‘Catullan’ Phalaecean is the most appropriate choice (see Martial’s I 1 and Luxorius’s 287 R2 Ad Faustum). Not less important is the fact that the Carthaginian author, again following strictly the rules set by his predecessor, defines his oeuvre with the term epigramma, turned into a generic label precisely by Martial, and emphasizes its satirical, indeed scoptic character (Luxorius plays with the Martialian word sal), its facilis pudor, the light morality, as well as its realism.
In the second part of my paper I propose a comparative reading of a few scoptic themes by Martial and Luxorius, namely: 1) a lover of ugly girls (L. 329 R2; M. I 10, III 76); 2) an old man trying to hide his age (L. 343 R2; M. III 43, VI 57); 3) an aged woman and sex (L. 301 R2; M. X 67); 4) a blind man quite pleased with his handicap (L. 357 R2; M. VIII 51). As I show, Luxorius’s texts, if compared with Martial’s, turn out not less intelligent and not less surprising as far as the epigrammatic point is concerned. In fact, in some cases one may have the impression that it is Luxorius to invent a more ‘original’ and, indeed, more thought-provoking version of a certain motif. Drawing upon Martial’s two-verse ‘note’ that a blind man can have a lovely female partner, he creates an ingeniously amusing miniature portrayal of a lucis egenus, able to know beautiful women by touch. What is peculiar to Luxorius’s poetics is a clear preference for the figure of paradox and a kind of fascination with all that seems abnormal, distorted, ugly. Therefore his focus on sexual perverts, deformed beings, incompetent teachers or doctors, entertainers who do not entertain. As it appears, this unique “world upside down” as pictured by the Carthaginian poet reflects quite well, even though as if in a distorting mirror of course, the paradoxes of his epoch, an epoch when Carthage, two generations before taken and destroyed by the Vandals, reestablishes its position as the center of learning precisely thanks to the same Vandal rulers
Going Beyond Counting First Authors in Author Co-citation Analysis
The present study examines one of the fundamental aspects of author co-citation analysis (ACA) - the way co-citation
counts are defined. Co-citation counting provides the data on which all subsequent statistical analyses and mappings
are based, and we compare ACA results based on two different types of co-citation counting - the traditional type that
only counts the first one among a cited work's authors on the one hand and a non-traditional type that takes into
account the first 5 authors of a cited work on the other hand. Results indicate that the picture produced through this non-traditional author co-citation counting contains more coherent author groups and is therefore considerably clearer. However, this picture represents fewer specialties in the research field being studied than that produced through the traditional first-author co-citation counting when the same number of top-ranked authors is selected and analyzed. Reasons for these effects are discussed
"Ecce Mycenaea scaena" : stage directions and pantomimic effects in the "Orestis tragoedia"
Dracontius’s Orestis tragoedia, despite its disputable title, is a poem clearly defined by the author himself as epic, as the appeal to Melpomene to step down from her tragic cothurns since the iambics are to be replaced by the dactylic meter (ll. 13-14) is unambiguous enough. At the same time, however, it is true that the OT is composed with an eye on tragedy. Even, upon a closer look one can notice that the poet’s inspirations are not only in tragedy understood as a literary (i.e. ‘textual’) genre and repository of motifs but also in the most important and popular mythological spectacle known to the Roman public, i.e. the tragic pantomime. It is hardly surprising considering that pantomimic references are noticeable also in other epyllions and in the Medea they are openly declared. In fact, Dracontius’s approach to the tragoedia saltata turns out to be emulative as he apparently aims at making his readers believe that through the verbal description and the speaking ego’s directions they can see the image not worse (possibly better) than in the theater.L’Orestis tragoedia de Dracontius, malgré son titre contestable, appartient sans nul doute au genre épique, selon l’auteur lui-même : s’adressant à Melpomène, le poète lui demande d’ôter ses cothurnes tragiques, puisqu’il faut à présent remplacer les iambes par l’hexamètre dactylique (vv. 13-14). Il n’en est pas moins vrai que l’Orestis tragoedia se réfère nettement à la tragédie. Une analyse attentive révèle en outre que le poète s’inspire non seulement de la tragédie en tant que genre littéraire, mais aussi des spectacles mythologiques (ou pantomime tragique), si appréciés du public romain. On ne s’étonnera donc pas de trouver dans ses autres épyllions des renvois à la pantomime ; dans Médée, ils sont même explicitement désignés. En fait, on peut dire que Dracontius rivalise avec la tragoedia saltata ; il veut, semble-t-il, persuader ses lecteurs que, grâce aux descriptions verbales et aux indications (de mise en scène) du sujet parlant, ils parviendront à se représenter la scène aussi bien, ou même mieux, que s’ils l’avaient vue au théâtre
Variations on the Author
“Variations on the Author” discusses two of Eduardo Coutinho’s recent films (Um Dia na Vida, from 2010, and Últimas Conversas, posthumously released in 2015) and their contribution to the general question of documentary authorship. The director’s filmography is characterized by a consistent yet self-effacing form of authorial self-inscription: Coutinho often features as an interviewer that rather than express opinions propels discourses; an interviewer that is good at listening. This mode of self-inscription characterizes him as an author who is not expressive but who is nonetheless markedly present on the screen. In Um Dia na Vida, however, Coutinho is completely absent form the image, while Últimas Conversas, on the contrary, includes a confessional prologue that moves the director from the margins to the center of his films. This article examines the ways in which these works stand out in the filmography of a director who offers new insights into the notion of cinematic authorship
- …
