Where two or three are gathered together in Plutarch's name, it appears, a volume of collected papers is certain to be forthcoming. At the 12th Congress of the International Plutarch Society, convened in Fribourg in 2017, far more than three were gathered: hence this big book, a selection of 36 papers animated by an investigation of Plutarchan intertextuality.
The subject is a large one, and orientation is provided by the introduction. There Vamvouri describes the various senses in which intertextuality is understood in this volume. The concept is elaborated into intratextuality, interdiscursivity, intergenericity and intermateriality – and the book's subsequent arrangement is articulated by way of these categories: Part 1, ‘Defining Intertextuality in Plutarch’; Part 2, ‘Intertextuality at Work’; Part 3, ‘Intratextuality and the Plutarchan Corpus’; Part 4, ‘Through the Lens of Interdiscursivity’; Part 5, ‘Intergenericity: Plutarch's Works at the Crossroads’; Part 6, ‘Beyond Text: Plutarch and Intermateriality’. Vamvouri's review is admirably concise and clear, and it furnishes a fairly standard doxography of previous, theoretical discussions. Her introduction is not, however, prescriptive for what follows: it is left up to each contributor to decide on the definition and application of intertextuality she or he prefers to pursue. Variation ensues, although it is safe to say that in this volume it is practical criticism, not theoretical analysis, which prevails. Unfortunately, cross-references between chapters are not routinely furnished.
The opening paper of Part 1, by C. Pelling, examines intertextuality both as a characteristic of Plutarchan style – it instils plausibility or vividness or conveys authority or sometimes even startles – and as a medium in which each reader (some of them characters within a Life) is called on to share the work of shaping a text's meaning. Complexity is the key here: there are many readers – and to each their own intertextual mattering map –, but education, not confusion, is the desired outcome when Plutarch writes. This elegant paper, in its incisive survey of Plutarch's techniques, will hereafter be an ideal point of departure for anyone, undergraduate or senior scholar, interested in thinking about Plutarchan intertextuality. Still, there will be some readers for whom Pelling's treatment is perhaps under-theorised. They will find what they need elsewhere, especially in the contributions of A. Zadorojnyi and G. D'Ippolito, which concentrate largely on discerning a critical taxonomy of Plutarch's intertextual moves.
It is impossible to summarise every contribution here. Let me call attention to just a few. In an admirably industrious and perceptive paper (in Spanish) A. Pérez Jiménez unpacks – at an impressively fine level – the intratextual nexus operating in Theseus–Romulus. Here we are furnished with a detailed account of recurring references, phrases and even prose rhythms (add: G.O. Hutchinson, Plutarch's Rhythmic Prose [2018]) connecting the two parts of this pairing, the literary unity of which, it is shown, is more than a matter of thematic resonances (see also the paper by B. Buszard). Also by way of intratextuality S. Jacobs looks at the ways in which Plutarchan heroes model themselves on heroes of the past, including other Plutarchan heroes, and how these unifying threads contribute to a holistic reading of the Lives. In a gem of a paper A. Worley demonstrates how Plutarch adapts the Athenaion Politeia, and its characterisation of Cleon, as an element in his portrayal of Gaius Gracchus. The Moralia are by no means neglected: more than one paper illustrates the importance of the symposium for activating Plutarch's intertextual energies (see, e.g., the papers by P. Volpe Cacciatore and C. Cooper), and any subsequent reading of Amatorius will be enriched by K. Jazdzewska's account of its relationship with Hesiod and Empedocles.
The typical paper in this book concentrates on a single text or a specific species of intertextuality, and for that reason its conclusions tend to be narrowly focused. Happily, the collection ranges widely. Consequently, out of its aggregation of individual studies larger patterns emerge: Intertextuality, by anyone's definition, is pervasive in Plutarch, no less in the Moralia than in the Lives. Predictably, Plato predominates – everywhere. In the Lives, for all Plutarch's eclecticism, tragedy is constantly to the fore. At the same time, Plutarch expects his readers to know the epic poets, the historians, the lyric poets and oratory – certainly the Greek exponents of these genres (Latin literature mostly goes undiscussed: see below). So broad is Plutarch's range that it is not always easy to be sure when he is being recherché or making an allusion he expects to be painfully obvious. He rarely fails to engage: his deployment of other texts, although this sometimes takes the form of ostentatious quotation, is usually delightfully subtle, even in ostensibly straightforward moments (see, for example, the papers by F. Brenk and M. Meeusen).
It is disappointing, although perhaps not altogether surprising, that intertexts referencing Latin literature attract little attention in this volume. The sole exception is M. Nerdahl's fine paper on Plato's presence in Cato maior; in it he includes, although it is not his principal concern, a discussion of Plutarch's reliance on, and his gestures towards, Cicero's De senectute (see also p. 35, Zadorojnyi's observations en passant regarding Plutarch's quotation of Cicero). Plutarch's response to Latin literature, however, does not confine itself to the adaptation of source material. At Cat. mai. 7.2, for instance, Plutarch, in discussing Cato's oratory, begins with a reference to Plato on the discrepancy between Socrates’ appearance and his genuine substance before going on to disagree with those who match Cato's speeches with those of Lysias. He means Cicero, of course, in whose Brutus the equivalence is drawn by Cicero only for it to be subverted by Atticus, whose disagreement is prefaced by alluding to Socratic irony (Brut. 63–9; 292–300). Plutarch, more or less like Cicero in his dialogue, leaves any final judgement to his Latinate readers. This is a sophisticated, many-layered reaction to a sophisticated, many-layered text. It simultaneously exhibits Plutarch's courteous deference towards Roman authority and his independent critical judgement – in a Life a central theme of which is the right relationship between Greek and Roman cultures. It also expects something in the way of interpretative work from Plutarch's readers, not least his Greek readers. This passage is hardly unique (see P.A. Stadter, Plutarch and his Roman Readers [2015], pp. 130ff., esp. 146ff.).
All the papers published here, each in its own way, are worth reading. Many, it must be said, address familiar matters in familiar ways, and their conclusions, although never uninteresting, are rarely strikingly unexpected. It must also be said that a very few authors do little more than recycle previously published views. Few readers, I think, will work through this book from cover to cover. Doing so is in any case made unnecessary for the scholar in a hurry by the superb index locorum supplied by the editors. In its totality, this welcome volume constitutes a valuable resource for anyone – antiquarian, historian, historiographer or moral philosopher – thinking about Plutarch. Arte allusiva is a dimension of Plutarch that no reader can afford to overlook, and the papers gathered here furnish both a valuable aid and a stimulus for further investigation.
