Cynthia Damon's already substantial contribution to our understanding of Latin texts concerned with civil war increases still further with this new edition of Caesar's De bello ciuili and companion volume of studies. Since I regard the edition as a striking success, I shall get my most significant complaint out of the way at the outset: having commissioned a volume that contains only this work and not also its three anonymous continuations, OUP have lost the advantage in utility that they once enjoyed over some other publishing houses. A translation and modified edition was published by D. in the Loeb Classical Library in 2016.
Chapter 1 of the Studies explains why a new edition is necessary. Chapter 2 traces the history of the text up to the time of the extant MSS. Chapter 3 discusses the stemma of the extant MSS, with full account taken of the anonymous continuations. Chapter 4 continues this discussion, with more attention paid to the individual witnesses. Chapter 5 examines, inter alia, major corruption offered by our manuscripts; evidence from the Gallic War, in which half the tradition derives from the archetype of the Civil War (called β in Gall., ω in Ciu.), is used to show what corruptions are likely to have occurred. Chapter 6 examines the evidence for incomplete or hasty composition on Caesar's part. Chapter 7, a helpful contribution to understanding Caesar's style, explores unusual expressions. Chapter 8 illustrates some of the consequences for textual criticism of the conclusions reached. In these chapters D. convincingly argues that the roughness of style often found in Ciu. should not be always emended away. Chapters 9–11 contain very detailed and clear discussions of major textual problems, a chapter devoted to each book; I wish only that they had included all textual problems.
The OCT contains 110 pages of prefatory matter written in English. Pp. xi–lxi largely summarise material discussed in more detail in the Studies. Pp. lxi–lxxiii explain D.’s editorial policies and give advice on how best to use the edition. Pp. lxxiv–lxxxv contain acknowledgements and bibliography, pp. lxxxvi–cvii a very useful list of passages in which the editions of Kraner–Hofmann–Meusel, Klotz, Fabre and D. diverge from each other. P. cviii gives the sigla (but headed ‘symbols’, and in English), p. cix the stemma. Text and apparatus (in Latin) follow on pp. 1–163. Pp. 165–227 contain an appendix orthographica, an appendix critica (essentially a list of eliminable readings in the primary manuscripts that are not needed in the apparatus) and an index nominum. The symbol ⋄ in the apparatus and list of divergences helpfully points the reader to a discussion in the Studies.
D. argues throughout with intelligence, good judgement, open-mindedness and rigour. Her style in the Studies is always energetic, often colloquial (there are more abbreviations of the ‘don't’ or ‘I'd’ kind than I have seen ever before in a scholarly OUP book), almost as though she were explaining her choices of reading to her students in a lecture; it is far removed from the olympian detachment often affected by textual critics. I found myself warming to it, without wishing to imitate it. In the preface to the OCT there is a slight generic difference: the vigour remains, but there are fewer abbreviations.
Whereas manuscripts of the Gallic War descend from two copies (α and β) that survived the end of the Roman world, the 175 or so MSS of the Civil War descend from just one (the same β). V. Brown argued in The Textual Transmission of Caesar's Civil War (1972) that only five of these MSS need to be used wherever they are extant (M = Laur. 68.8, U = Vat. lat. 3324, S = Laur. Ashburnham 33, T = Paris lat. 5764 and V = Vienna 95) and that the remainder (a few of which have small parts to play where M and S are damaged or defective) derive from them. Although Brown states rather than proves her case, such checking of recentiores as I have been able to carry out leads me to agree that they are useless for editorial purposes, except for conjectures that they may contain. (Many conjectures ascribed by D. and others to the editio princeps are likely to go back to MSS; for example, 2.19.2 Cordubam and 2.19.4 eiecit are both found in Laur. 68.11 of s. xiv.) That M and U share a lost ancestor (μ) is agreed by all. That T and V share a lost ancestor (π) should have been agreed by all but was denied by W. Hering, Die Recensio der Caesarhandschriften (1963), esp. pp. 25–31, who thought that V derives from T; Brown (pp. 26–8) argued strongly for the right position, and it is established beyond doubt by D. (Studies, pp. 66–77).
Where on this stemma to place S, the oldest and most maverick MS, has caused great difficulty. D. conducts a far more rigorous investigation of the problem than any previous scholar. She shows that throughout the Civil War and its continuations the number of passages in which μπ share significant errors with S having the truth is small or non-existent, and therefore that the stemma S:μπ can hardly be right. She shows also that S and π share more significant errors than any other combination, and therefore follows Hering in arguing for the bifid stemma μ:Sπ (which combination is called ν). She may have missed one line of attack: Hering established that before the end of the Gallic War S defected from the α-group to β, and there is no reason to think that its allegiance changed within β thereafter. He claimed (p. 83), but cited no evidence for his claim, that within β it was related more closely to T and V than to U (M in this work belongs to α). Since α here provides a secure anchor for the stemma, it would be desirable to know precisely how many errors S shares with TV against U and with U against TV. Two aspects of D.’s evidence still cause concern. First, while S and π are characterised by numerous significant errors unique to themselves, including omissions, μ and ν make few significant omissions and in D.’s own words (p. 51) are ‘frustratingly elusive’. Anyone determined to argue for Brown's trifid stemma could point out that two branches of it, S and π, would have a respectable and plausible number of significant errors. Second, most of the significant conjunctive errors of Sπ come late in the corpus, in Al. or Hisp. Was ν, if it existed (and I do not wish to state categorically that it did not), copied accurately throughout but with extreme accuracy at its beginning? D. rather argues that this state of affairs was caused by a two-way process of contamination, from μ into π and vice versa. However, as she notes, any passage in which μ or π should exhibit a true reading because of such correction would be indistinguishable in quality from those in which S has simply made a mistake. She cites thirteen passages on pp. 51–2 to illustrate her thesis, but since in most she adopts the reading of μπ in her text, they prove nothing. On pp. 35, 43, 58–9, 68–9 D. notes that the archetype must have had variants, and perhaps she should have placed more weight on this: the importing of these variants into one of μ or ν would not explain all the difficulties of the stemma but could explain some (for instance, some of the passages where MUTV share an insignificant error and S has the truth).
What is most at stake amidst these difficulties, apart from establishing the historical facts about the transmission of the corpus, is the status of potentially attractive readings found only in S. D. has shown that any reading unique to S must work very hard to gain a place in the text, and she improves on her predecessors by removing many readings found in it but not μπ. A good simple example may be found at 2.22.3 missu (μπ: iussu S): missu is paralleled in Caesar at Gall. 5.27.1 and 6.7.2 (consuerat in the former passage answers the possible objection that missu is more appropriate for a single rather than a regular dispatch), and although iussu gives excellent sense, S probably has it by conjecture or accident. More controversial may be, for example, 3.88.5, where D.’s acceptance of μπ’s conuerterant against S's conuenerant forces her to supply se after quae earlier in the sentence, but se … conuerterant does give more pointed sense.
On one minor matter D. is mistaken. Where M is now defective, m (Laur. 68.6), a descendant, traditionally stands in for it. However, Brown suggested that m was copied from another descendant, Vallicelliana B 45 (Vall.), in her view written perhaps a hundred years earlier. D. (p. 79 n. 151), seeing that m cannot derive from Vall. because Vall. has errors not found in m, argues against Brown that the two MSS are equipollent descendants of M. She then writes ‘A third explanation would be that Vall. is a copy of m. Against this is the fact that m has (at least) two substantial lacunas … where Vall.’s text is whole. Strictly speaking, this only argues against the possibility that Vall. is a copy of m in its current state, but the relative dates of the manuscripts and the fact that Vall. ignores m’s fine innovation at 1.5.5 (lenissimis for leuissimis) support the stronger claim that Vall. is not a copy of m, period.’ Since Vall. is unquestionably a direct copy of m (I hope soon to publish my evidence), ‘period’ is a very unfortunate final flourish: the trivial variants lenissimis and leuissimis are very insignificant; the losses in m that D. cites correspond in part to quaternions and came after the copying of Vall.; and she places too much faith in Brown's ability to date these two MSS.
Readers of an edition want to have confidence that the MSS used have been reported correctly. D. tells us that she has made use of Brown's collations but has checked all important readings. My own collation of MUTV at the beginning of Book 3 suggests that the MSS are reported very accurately.
Since the Civil War (as also its continuations) derive from just one ancient copy (β or an ancestor, which D. in her apparatus calls ω), its text is less well founded than that of the Gallic War. It is not an easy text to edit: although reconstruction of β usually gives the general sense of what C. wrote, it is very often difficult to be sure of his precise wording; furthermore, the presence of α in the Gallic War shows that the text is wrong in many places which no textual critic would have questioned if only β’s evidence were available; as D. remarks, it must follow that there are many undetected corruptions in the Civil War and its continuations. Reading through D.’s text and critical apparatus and her Studies leaves no doubt that virtually every problem has been considered afresh – and with a keen and probing intellect.
D. is a resourceful emendator, and the numerous conjectures that she proposes are a good indication of her fresh thinking; many are placed only in the apparatus (marked here by an asterisk). Some are merely diagnostic (often introduced by an or nisi mauis) and point readers to other possible ways of construing the evidence. Good examples of attractive conjectures are found at 1.26.3, 46.3, 58.3, 86.1; 2.14.3 (but see below), 15.3, 30.2, 30.2–3, 35.3*, 44.1; 3.10.9, 11.1 (in dismissing ideo, found in the editio princeps, D. might have observed that Caesar never uses this word), 20.2, 21.5, 81.3, 83.3. Other conjectures, which range from those that I should accept to diagnostic conjectures that I should not mention, may be found at, for example, 1.1.2*, 4.3*, 6.5*, 6.7, 9.2*, 11.2, 21.6*, 35.4*, 36.3*, 39.2*, 48.3*, 51.2*, 52.1*, 53.2, 58.1, 64.1 (twice)*, 64.6, 65.5*, 67.4*, 74.3*, 85.9*; 2.9.1, 10.5, 16.2*, 18.1*, 21.5*, 23.4 (see below), 24.4*, 31.2*, 32.4*, 32.6, 35.4; 3.14.1*, 18.4*, 19.4*, 21.4*, 25.4*, 26.1*, 29.1*, 32.2*, 32.6, 38.4, 40.1*, 40.2*, 45.1*, 46.1*, 47.5*, 49.5 (twice)*, 56.1*, 68.3*, 69.4 (twice)*, 73.5, 75.2*, 92.3*, 103.1*, 103.4, 108.2, 108.3*, 109.5*, 111.6*.
D. explains her policy in matters of punctuation on pp. lxiii and lxvi n. 81 of her edition. She prefers a minimal use of commas (from numerous examples see e.g. 3.22.3, 23.1 for comma-less adverbial clauses) and many short sentences bounded by full-stops, even when the next sentence begins with a word to which -que is attached (e.g. 1.28.4; 3.21.3, 92.3). I do not like D.’s policy but can hardly say that it is mistaken, given that all modern punctuation of classical texts is artificial. She draws attention to 1.65.1, where she prints Quos ubi Afranius procul uisos cum Petreio conspexit noua re perterritus locis superioribus constitit. Aciemque instruit. Caesar and writes ‘the reader can decide whether to accept this articulation, or to emend … to instruxit or … to consistit; either emendation will allow the two clauses to sit comfortably in a single sentence’. I should prefer consistit (there are historic presents hereabouts) with a comma after conspexit. But D., not an over-conservative textual critic, rightly reminds us of the rough edges of an unfinished text.
I finish with some remarks on individual passages. 1.6.7. consules—quod ante id tempus accidit numquam—ex urbe proficiscuntur <inauspicato> lictoresque habent in urbe et Capitolio priuatim (μπ: -ti S, perhaps by chance or conjecture) contra omnia uetustatis exempla. The attractive supplement is D.’s own after La Penna (it could be placed equally well before or after ex urbe); for priuatim D. cites Gall. 1.17.1 etc. (which prove merely that Caesar used the adverb), but it is hard to see how the consuls could use lictors in the city after they had left the city, and I should prefer to follow S: Caesar complains about the use of lictors by priuati, i.e. those who are not magistrates. 1.32.9. D. rejects the simple emendation of opibus to operibus found in mmrVac, but Caesar is much more likely to have boasted to the senate of his achievements (OLD opus 8) than his wealth, resources or power. 1.48.5. Given the difficulties of hibernis, Dederich's emendation of hibernis to herbis with deletion of the first neque hardly seems ‘unduly drastic’. 1.82.1. D. objects that Forchhammer's reliquae munitionis [fiebat] causa is predicated upon the authority of S, which omits fiebat; but one does not need the support of S to argue that fiebat intruded as a gloss after reliquae had become rei quae. 2.4.4. Fabre, followed by D., deleted uehementiusque exterreamur, because only confidence and not also fear is here relevant, but the MSS allow Caesar a grand generalisation about how people behave when unexpected news, whether good or bad, has arrived, and it seems a little pedantic to limit it. 2.14.3. D. prints Fit in hostes impetus, sed eorum [D. : eorum sed ω] [muro] [muro del. D. : ex muro Ciacconius] sagittis tormentisque fugientes persequi prohibentur. I find D.’s transposition very attractive, her preference for deletion of muro, on the two grounds that Caesar uses adnominal ex to ‘express “source” in a rather different sense’ and that the word could be ‘a remnant of a gloss such as ex muro’, unappealing. At 3.22.2 lapide ictus ex muro periit, it is easiest to construe ex muro adnominally (thus D. in her Loeb); and though in none of 2.10.5, 11.3, 13.2, Liv. 24.34.11 and 44.9.9 is ex muro adnominal, its use in the context of objects hurled from walls offers further support for emending to it here. 2.23.4. For the obviously corrupt eius fuga D. prints her own conjecture ex eius fuga, but ex fuga normally refers to the flight of the subject or implied subject of the clause and not to someone else's flight. Other conjectures (her own eius fuga desertae, Jurin's fuga, Paul's uisa eius fuga, Schneider's cognita eius fuga) are superior, but I prefer plain ex fuga; cf., for example, 3.102.1 Caesar omnibus rebus relictis persequendum sibi Pompeium existimauit, quascumque in partes se ex fuga recepisset, ne …, Gall. 4.27.1 Hostes proelio superati, simul atque se ex fuga receperunt, statim ad Caesarem legatos de pace miserunt, 7.88.7 reliqui ex fuga in ciuitates discedunt. 3.10.11. Caesar says that he omnes suas terrestres urbiumque copias dimissurum. The unparalleled expression urbium copias is not adequately defended by the reference to 3.15.6, but which of the four conjectures cited by D. is right is harder to say. 3.69.4. D. well explains why equis can hardly be sound and cites several conjectures. Could it derive from scutis? Alternatively, one could read signis for equis and scuta for signa. 3.71.3. I am not convinced that in a passage built around a contrast sed should be removed and am tempted by passus <est> sed <neque> in litteris [quas] scribere (the first two changes are reported by D. from the editio princeps, but the first is found again in Laur. 68.11), even though it involves one more change than D.’s text. 3.102.6. In D.’s text Pompey in flight cognoscit consensu omnium Antiochensium ciuiumque Romanorum qui illic negotiarentur arcem captam esse (arcem aram c. e. MUmarg : aram c. e. Uπ : aram capta esset S : arma capta esse Forchhammer) excludendi sui causa. I prefer to argue that Caesar wrote what Forchhammer conjectured; that ω had the corruption aram captam (captam arising after arma had become aram), which reading was inherited by ν (a slight progressive corruption in the wayward S); and that μ conjectured arcem but kept the original reading visible. The taking up of arms was sufficient to exclude Pompey, and the inhabitants of Antioch had no need to capture their own citadel. 3.105.6. Could intecto (thus ω) have arisen from a dittography of interco? 3.111.3. illae is meaningless in the expression illae triremes omnes et quinqueremes, and Paul's quadriremes omnes should have been adopted, as D. now adopts it in her Loeb. Quadri- was written IIII, which was corrupted to ille or illi at 3.7.2.
