The Intermediate Greek−English Lexicon (IGL), an abridgment of the Oxford Greek Lexicon of H.G. Liddell and R. Scott (LSJ), was published in 1889. This familiar resource, affectionately termed the ‘Middle Liddell’, has remained in print since that time. Unlike its parent, the LSJ, it has never undergone revision. In 1998, however, at the urging of Dr John Chadwick, the Greek Lexicon Project was established in Cambridge with this very goal. But when it became clear to the Project's management committee that this undertaking would be problematic, a bold new proposal emerged: to compile a ‘new and independent Lexicon’.
Over twenty years later, the Cambridge Greek Lexicon (CGL) has now become available in two volumes, handsomely boxed in a sturdy slip-case, at a price not much higher than the now ‘old’ IGL. It should be noted at the outset that this is a weighty work of reference. At 3.3kg the CGL is not the conveniently portable resource that can travel with us from home to the office, or from the office to the cafe. One hopes that a CGL app is in development. In its present print format the CGL is designed to have its proper place on a desk, which now must be cleared for dictionary work. This dictionary work, however, thanks to the clear-headed organisation of each entry and the clarity and up-to-dateness of the translations and glosses supplied, has rarely been so enjoyable.
The Lexicon, as we learn from the editors’ preface, covers major authors from Homer to Plutarch's Lives; it includes the Gospels and the Acts of the New Testament. The range of entries from this tighter selection of authors (around 90 in all) is richer than that of the IGL, as page-for-page checks establish. But this second-century ce cut-off point excludes authors such as Longus or Lucian, whose works often feature on intermediate-level reading lists for students; nor does the Lexicon include non-literary forms – the language of inscriptions, for example. And yet these limitations are understandable: the completion of this new Lexicon well within half a lifetime has been a significant achievement.
Innovations in layout and typography have resulted in a superior, user-friendly and, above all, readable lexicon. The text for each entry is not crowded on the page; the distinct senses of each headword have been numbered; each appears on a new line. Definitional phrases appear in a light font; translation words are given in bold. Where there are several distinct senses, the editors have offered a welcome introductory summary, to assist the reader in locating the common thread of meaning. It is meaning, rather than chronology, that is the underlying principle of organisation. Abbreviated attributions to specific authors are used as attestations of distinct senses. All these features are most welcome – a joy. What we might miss, however, is a regular use (but see below) of illustrative phrases from these authors, such as we find in the LSJ – but there is no room in the CGL's 1,529 pages for additional material.
What distinguishes the CGL and makes consulting its pages an exciting adventure is that each of its 37,000 entries has been studied with fresh eyes. Its nearest recent competitor, the Brill Dictionary of Ancient Greek (2015), which derives directly from F. Montanari's Vocabolario della lingua greca (2013), traces elements of its pedigree to the LSJ amongst other sources. The CGL, by contrast, is an independent work, the product of new readings and new analysis of the selected texts. The sometimes charming but antiquated English of the IGL (what would a young student make of ‘by her own mother wit’ as a translation for Herodotus’ phrase ἐπιφρασθεῖσα αὐτή?) has been replaced by plain-speaking: by clear and accessible language for the twenty-first century. Thus, users of the IGL, on turning to the CGL, will encounter with a start of surprise some all-too-familiar phrases: ‘have a good day’ renders exactly the casual words of farewell implicit in χαῖρε.
To summarise the CGL's content by parts of speech: where nouns have several distinct uses, these are set out by sense (in the case of the high-frequency noun πόλις, for example, six separate sense-sections take us from ‘citadel’ to ‘community’). The carefully developed eight sense-sections of αἰδώς are preceded by a useful introductory summary. Exploratory probes into words that often defy ready translation into English yield very satisfying results: πραπίδες or ὕβρις or ἀριστεία, for example. Entry-by-entry comparison with IGL highlights the lexicographical finesse that marks each CGL entry.
The editors’ desire for fresh readings is made clear in the entry for συκοφάντης (‘1. false accuser, informer, slanderer; 2. trickster, quibbler, petty critic’). The ‘fig-shewers’ of the IGL, who shook the trees of illegal exporters of figs, have disappeared. Elsewhere, Aristophanic portmanteau words are translated with verve: for example, the heaps of sand conjured up by the epithet ψαμμακοσιογάργαροι become ‘umpteen zillion’. Finally, a selection of proper nouns, for the most part associated with myth, is included, along with some basic information: Achilles (but not Patroclus) and Agamemnon; Troy, Mycenae, Salamis and Thebes. We find some authors (Archilochus, Sophocles, Plato) and some historical figures (Pericles, but not Cleisthenes or Themistocles).
The use of particles and enclitics is carefully explained, with judicious introductory summaries, abundant well-chosen illustrative examples from ancient texts and translations that indicate the range of possible renderings for each. Exclamations, alas, are translated in familiar, and limited, ways (οἴμοι, ‘woe is me, alas, oh!’; αἴ, ‘ah, alas’; παπαῖ, ‘oh oh, ah, ah’). Definitional phrases, however, identify these (respectively) as expressions of extreme dismay or alarm; of sorrow or surprise; and of grief or distress. Thus, readers are able to locate Anglophone expressions appropriate to context.
Our final category is the CGL's presentation of verbs. The headword and any dialect forms of each verb are followed, where relevant, by the word from which the verb is derived. Next comes a form-group, which lists significant tense- and mood-forms. And then we find the sense-section(s), preceded, where relevant, by an introductory summary. Thus, for example, ἄγω (38 sense-sections), βάλλω (42 sense-sections), the problematic ἵστημι (10 sense-sections) and its middle ἵσταμαι (with its own form-group and a further 14 sense-sections) are set out clearly, along with relevant case usage and associated prepositions. The thoroughgoing lucidity of expression and the legibility of each entry on the page combine to provide a truly valuable resource. The desire for clarity is well exemplified in the translations offered for words describing bodily functions, farting (πέρδομαι), shitting (χέζω) and fucking (βινέω, κινέω), which in the IGL were rendered in genteel circumlocutions or, indeed, where words failed, in another ancient language.
A CGL app would be a welcome study-aid. Even so, beginner- and intermediate-level students, in particular, should be encouraged to set aside the instant gratification of click-and-collect Greek word-study tools, such as that currently available on the Perseus website (which takes readers, inevitably, to LSJ or IGL). And they should use this new Lexicon (at least some of the time) to savour the meditative pleasures (and, I suggest, experience the cognitive advantages) of the dictionary search, of looking things up for themselves. With the CGL by their side, they will encounter ancient authors in a new way: no longer through the clouded lens of the LSJ or the ‘Middle Liddell’, but directly, unambiguously, in the language of today. This is not to say that this Lexicon is for students alone. It is a brilliant resource for all Classicists – and a landmark in ancient world studies.
