In this paper I seek, first, to re-examine the bridal imagery surrounding Cassandra in Aeschylus's Agamemnon, and, second, to suggest how iconography, and its relationship to performance, can connect this scene's concerns more thoroughly with the two successive dramas of the Oresteia. Cassandra's language casts her as the bride of Apollo, in contrast to the staging of her entrance as Agamemnon's bride. Other aspects of staging, moreover, cast Cassandra as a surrogate for Iphigenia. Attention to language and performance also suggests that Cassandra's cries to Apollo Agyiates are initiated by her perception not of an aniconic stone block, but of a statue of Apollo. My main concern throughout the argument will be the effect of Cassandra's relationship with Apollo on the action of the Oresteia as a whole.
Since antiquity, Sallust has been said to have modeled his historiography after Thucydides. Focusing on the voice of the narrator, this article draws attention to an aspect that distinguishes Sallust from Thucydides and reminds us more of Herodotus. While Thucydides's narrative seems to unravel itself, Sallust makes his presence as narrator strongly felt by first-person interventions and expressions of uncertainty (I). Moreover, he integrates other voices at the extradiegetic level (II). These features of Sallust's voice give his account a strong mimetic aspect, underscore his reliability and engage the readers in the "act of reading."
At 4.20.5–11, Livy famously interrupts his narrative to report hearing that Augustus had discovered an inscribed linen corselet in the Temple of Jupiter Feretrius. The inscription, Livy tells us he has heard, said that A. Cornelius Cossus had dedicated the corselet as spolia opima when he was consul. Augustus's story thus contradicts the account Livy has just related, in which Cossus dedicated spolia opima as military tribune. Livy's treatment of Augustus's testimony, I argue in the first part of this paper, associates this discovery with prominent episodes early in the Ab Urbe Condita in which persons of authority fabricate supernatural stories and use them to influence persons of lower status. The association distances Livy and his readers from Augustus's account. This distancing, I argue in the paper's second part, has implications for our understanding of Livy's literary project and offers scope for reflection on the interrelationship of historiographical and political authority at the beginning of the Principate.
Livy's history recounts several events that take place, years apart, at the temple of Juno at Croton. A reading, both intertextual and intratextual, of passages having to do with the temple argues that the repeated references to the place form a strand of narrative complementing the main thread of Livy's account of Rome's expansion. Moreover, the temple unites geography and history, for it stands at the edge of each, at the place where Italy ends and the ocean begins and where Livy's narrative meets and responds to those of other writers.
Social historians, despite showing great interest in Apuleius's Metamorphoses, have tended to ignore the novel's embedded tale of Cupid and Psyche on the grounds that it is purely imaginary. This paper demonstrates that Apuleius in fact refers throughout his story to real Roman practices, especially legal practices—most conspicuous are the frequent references to the Roman law of marriage. A careful examination of several passages thus shows how knowledge of Roman law, it turns out, enhances the reader's pleasure in Apuleius's story. The paper concludes by exploring the connections between Apuleius's fairytale and the account of his own marriage to Aemilia Pudentilla in his earlier work, the Apologia. Apuleius seems to be recalling, playfully, his own earlier legal success. At the same time, both works suggest that legal problems arose in Roman families not because of the actions of any official enforcers, but rather appeal to the law by particular family members.