Behind You! Tzetzes on Lycophron

 John Tzetzes or  Ἰωάννης Τζέτζης was a Byzantine scholar and poet who lived and worked in Constantinople in the 12th century AD.  While modern scholars occasionally have harsh words for the pedant and poetaster Tzetzes, his activity as a grammarian and poet has preserved valuable fragments of ancient poetry, even if he has often been accused of inaccuracy in his quotations. One author for whom Tzetzes is particularly important is Hipponax. Tzetzes seems to have had access to some portion of Hipponax's poetry (his first book of iambics whatever that means), and he clearly knew more of Hipponax than he did of Archilochus (whom he very rarely quotes). He quotes Hipponax frequently in various works, but especially in his commentary on (Pseudo)-Lycophron's Alexandra with which his brother Isaac apparently assisted him.  

In the Alexandra, Cassandra prophesies Menelaus coming among the Iapyges in a journey which mirrors the itinerary of the Argonauts. The geography is muddled and the Tzetzes brothers are not particularly helpful, we could be anywhere from Sicily, to Calabria, to Apulia. We are in the bootheel of Italy for sure anyway. There he will dedicate a mixing bowl from Tamassus, a wild bull hide shield, and a pair of Helen's shoes to Athena Skuletria or Athena Despoiler. Helen's shoes are ἀσκέρας εὐμαρίδας (v. 855) or fur-lined Persian slippers. Alone ἀσκέρα and εὔμαρις refer to two different kinds of shoe: a winter boot with fur or felt and a shoe or slipper of deerskin worn by barbarians (sc. Persians). Lycophron is obviously showing off his knowledge of shoe terminology, no trifling matter. But the pedantic Brothers Tzetzes were not about to let Lycophron away with this one!

Commenting on this line, Tzetzes (I think it is John's voice!) makes clear that askerai are felt boots or artaria (not that that's that helpful!). He proceeds to apostrophize Lycophron and accuses him of stealing words from Aeschylus and Hipponax, and even worse he's stolen them all wrong!

Now the next bit, I have no idea if it's meant to be funny or Tzetzes Bros. are deadly serious here, but I think it's hilarious:

ἀλλ’ ἀναμνήσω τοῦτον ἐγὼ τὸν σοφὸν ποιητήν. οὐκ οἶσθα, ὦ Λύκοφρον, ὅτι, ὅτε σὺ τὴν Ἱππώνακτος κατεῖχες βίβλον, κατόπιν σου ἑστηκὼς ἐγὼ ἑώρων σε τὰς αὐτοῦ λέξεις ἀναλεγόμενον καὶ τὸ ἀσκέρας δὲ ἐκεῖσε εὕρηκας καὶ οὕτω τέθεικας μὴ προσχὼν μηδ’ εἰς νοῦν ἔχων τὰ ῥήματα.

But I will remind the clever poet of this. You did not know, Lycophron, that, when you were holding the book of Hipponax, I was stood behind you watching when you read his words and you found the ἀσκέρας there and so you wrote it down neither paying attention nor keeping in mind the meaning. 

Libro de Los Juegos, 1283. Alfonso X de León y Castilla

There is something funny about the idea of Tzetzes creeping up on Lycophron and watching him at work, I like to imagine the scene which Tzetzes crafts here happening in a mediaeval scriptorium. But it is Tzetzes who is presenting himself as a sort of time-traveller, someone with a unique and personal insight into the workings of poets from the classical past. It's a pity that John ruins the image a little by really belabouring the point in the lines that follow, it is a very long scholion. But it is nonetheless a very vivid and amusing digression and it breaks up what can be quite heavy bedtime reading. For all Tzetzes' self-aggrandizing and schoolmasterly pedantry - I caught out the great and learned Lycophron (did he really?) - the vignette captures the ability which scholarship has to collapse the distance of a thousand years, from Tzetzes back to Lycophron and from us looking back on Tzetzes. Wouldn't we much rather stand behind the giants (not so big after all) than on their shoulders? 

Time to write some gotcha-articles on the solecisms of Homer!