Abstract and Keywords
This article argues that manuscript studies is similar to papyrology. However, people are dealing with the more direct, and to that extent more ‘original’, sources, whose study expands the body of textual evidence for ancient Greece today – notably the papyri scraps of Oxyrhynchus, and the bookrolls of Herculaneum. It is true that new imaging techniques constantly improve the quantity and quality of the texts people can recover. However, upon reflection working with the Herculaneum papyri, it remains the case that, whether people are considering a medieval manuscript or a first-century papyrus, the evidence these provide is determined by their reception.
On 24 June 2005, Martin West published for the readers of the Times Literary Supplement a newly discovered poem of Sappho, first identified the year before—not afragment, a virtually complete poem (West 2005). The ageing speaker is watching a chorus of young girls and compares herself sadly to Tithonus, the withered lover of the Dawn. It was read and discussed by scholars, theorists, and critics all over the world before the next few months were over. Soon after that the University of Cologne, the owner of the papyrus, made available on the worldwide web high-resolution photographs that enable anyone who knows the ancient Greek alphabet to count over and re-analyse to the extent their knowledge allows them every letter, dot, and fibre on which the published texts are based. That's a high claim, and of course the actual papyrus will always be essential to anything but the putting of intelligent questions, but it symbolizes great changes in the field.
Papyrology might have furnished one of the most exciting, but at the same time most forbidding, topics in this book as recently as ten years ago. The texts were fascinating; but you could not participate in their making, not as a non-specialist. But it would have been an exciting article anyway, even then. Ever since the field of Oxyrhynchus papyrology was established over a hundred years ago and the first great heap of treasures became available, papyrology has been central to whatever there was of excitement and new discovery in classical literature and social history. Now, just in the last few years, it has become a field that continually grows both in importance and—quite suddenly—accessibility to students everywhere. To parallel what has been the greatest introduction to this field for decades, Eric Turner's Greek Manuscripts of the Ancient World (Turner 1987), there will soon be the possibility of a net-accessible text like his with high-resolution images for study and reference, (p. 764) not mere printed photographs. Indeed, the website of the University of Michigan Papyrus Collection (details in ‘Suggested Reading’ below) is rapidly becoming something like a new Turner. This growth in importance and accessibility is not merely technological, but comes from crucial changes in focus in our studies, which without neglecting the established canon of great texts in poetry and prose, turn our attention to what was once considered marginal. Literally marginal, in some cases, for the methods and mindset of scribes and commentators, and even of the schoolchildren who copied out poems and prose texts from memory or dictation, are now objects of interest and study in themselves.
Texts from less-studied periods of antiquity and especially later antiquity become important to us. Documentary papyrology, sometimes thought pedestrian in comparison with literary papyrology, turns out to reveal what we are now most interested in, the life of the subject classes rather than the life of their governors; the life of women, children, and slaves along with the life of free male adults (indeed, women, children, and slaves are already separate categories on the Michigan website). It also supplies priceless background for later literature, like the once-neglected and now eagerly studied later Greek novels. Literary papyrology is continually revealing more about even such great authors as Archilochus and Sappho and the tragedians (since we still care and will never cease to care about the once-canonical standard authors); and is revealing, just as continually, more about authors and periods once thought minor but now seen as crucial evidence for the intellectual interests of less exalted people, literate and illiterate.
Paralleling this growth of possibilities for study and understanding, there is a technical revolution suddenly affecting the accessibility of all these texts as profoundly as the ongoing projects to digitize and make available all the holdings of major libraries round the world. In the final analysis, editing a rare book will still require looking at it and (cautiously) handling it; but knowing what is in it, and that in great detail, will not need more than a computer screen. And the same will be true of papyri, and of all ancient manuscripts: papyrus, parchment, and other media alike. Only editors and those who want to question the smaller details of text in the papyri will from time to time need actually to look at them, which will greatly extend the usable life of these fragile objects. In my own days as a graduate student forty years ago, and for a long time after, what were the chances of one's questioning a reading by the ranking experts like Lobel or Page in some Sappho or Alcaeus papyrus? The great scholars looked to in those days to publish the papyri diligently published, at least in the case of a great many of their texts, such photographs as the era's technology allowed them (unattractive and poorly detailed though they are by today's standards). But in fact not many of their equals in learning, let alone ordinary students of the classics, would have ventured to contradict their opinion of what the text said on such a basis. Unless you were at a university with its own large papyrus collections, you mostly took all papyrus texts as given from on high.
(p. 765) This is suddenly no longer the case (and the same goes for the whole world of ancient manuscripts on all materials), with the explosion of imaging technology in the last decade. I do not mean that all the difficulties that used to make papyrology a hortus conclusus, a closed garden for specialists, are gone in an instant. Documentary papyri are written in all sorts of more difficult Greek script and require a lot of knowledge of technical business and government formulas to fill in correctly where there are fillable gaps. Literary papyri are mostly in uncials, that is, require you to know the Greek alphabet. It is only when (as is admittedly all too often the case) the text is damaged that a more developed eye for palaeography and scribal habits is called for, not to mention a feeling for the author's style and for what is possible or plausible Greek to fill in gaps. But even here image manipulation software makes it comparatively easy, and even pleasurable, to test out hypothetical supplements against the spaces and letter traces in the manuscript, and questions about Greek usage and stylistic habits that would in earlier generations have called for months of reading and deterred all but the hardiest can be answered in seconds with the aid of computerized resources such as the Thesaurus Linguae Graecae (TLG), which makes possible searches in the whole of Greek literature, and not merely that of the periods formerly most favoured by the authors of traditional grammars and other print reference works. For editing, though, there is still required a patience for setting and proofreading texts, and a gift for supplementing damaged ones with the missing words required by context that excludes all but (to say the least) the truly persistent and truly thoughtful.
Of course, that is still an issue. Longinus said that verbal criticism is , the final epiphenomenon of long experience with language (On the Sublime 6.1). In my own case, and many another American scholar's, even hard study of Greek and Latin was not enough without adding teaching to reading, without years of explaining every word of many a text from many different periods of prose and poetry to a class of undergraduates. For most of us that is the necessity which leads one to the apparently unappealing but really very rewarding study of grammar and stylistics, a study in which even old paladins of verbal learning from generations ago, like J. D. Denniston's Greek Particles or W. Goodwin's Greek Grammar, suddenly become fascinating and indispensable companions. Accounting for every word makes you many times better as a literary critic; but at every stage, unless writing a full commentary, and especially in a classroom, mistakes, at least minor ones, are forgivable. Inseparable from papyrology is rigorous accounting for every letter or fragment of a letter, whether or not it even belongs to an intelligible or recoverable word, making, at least in principle, no mistakes, whether minor or major. It is your text and it is all new, and no one else can profit from it if the details are wrong or the supplements tactless or overambitious. Even the rules of accent come in play. As a great papyrologist, Anne Hanson, once said to me: ‘Graduate students can skip the rules of Greek accents if they like when they study literature, but not in papyrology, because it's your text, (p. 766) and you have to put them all on yourself.’ Since all Greek literature, or nearly, is on the web in the form of the great TLG databank, she meant that you can generally cut the accented form into your paper or thesis—but not here. Every niggling detail of philology, stylistics, and proofreading comes up in papyrology, magnified into the all but back-breaking and eye-blinding, and it takes all the Greek you have and more even to try.
But many another difficulty is suddenly vanishing. The difficulties I mentioned in setting and proofreading text with not just every accent but every one of the papyrological symbols original and correct are more than halved by the ease with which computer commands are made for every one of the accents and symbols. The finding of words which not merely complete the sense, but can be shown by their appearance in similar and contemporary writing to belong securely to the period and style of one's text, has been remarkably accelerated by TLG programmes, which sort all or nearly all Greek known from Homer to late Byzantine texts to an ever-increasing number and subtlety of specifications. Most of all, we can be grateful for the increasing detail of digital photographs of our texts and in particular for the new multi-spectral imaging (MSI), which can reveal text unreadable even to the magnifying glass or the microscope on burnt or damaged papyrus. No one will ever again have to go actually blind over a papyrus or a manuscript, as Ritschl famously did over the Ambrosian Plautus palimpsest in the 1870s. Nor, of course, will it all now be done merely by computer images. No one even now should edit a papyrus without becoming intimately familiar with the object itself. But I think such things as learning the techniques, in a basic graduate seminar, and offering alternative suggestions of one's own to an editor's readings, are now in principle open to students and scholars on an equal basis everywhere. With the MSI images at hand, even the most challenging carbonized texts from Herculaneum become relatively easy to read. We can blow images up to large size; change contrast; blow them up still more to the largest size the pixels will currently allow; see clearly the original shape of ambiguous-looking letters that the best microscopes available, stared through in the brightest Naples sunlight the great skylights in the Officina dei Papiri at the Naples National Library could let through, had never been remotely sufficient to discern. Most excitingly, we can digitally cut misplaced fragments off it, the little sovrapposti and sottoposti familiar to Herculaneum students that glued themselves onto preceding or following columns of the papyrus, and paste them into another place on it one or two columns earlier or later. In places where our guess is right, the tiny but now completely visible fibres of the papyrus itself match up on the screen, to show that this or that bit really was torn off when it was opened in the age of Napoleon from another part of the papyrus, and really belonged here or there. The process had been done before, physically (with all the danger to the papyrus that that suggests), or by calculation with callipers; but it can now be done in the ghostly world of the computer screen without touching the original at all.
(p. 767) The problems of ordinary papyrus are less dire, but the technological revolution is coming to all. Non sunt ad caelum elevandae manus neque exorandus aedituus, as Seneca says of searching one's own soul (Letters 41.1): you need neither raise your hands to heaven nor beg the temple custodian—of a papyrus collection, in this case: it is all coming onto the worldwide web. Before long, scholars will be able to read for themselves, as well as their knowledge of the language allows them, every papyrus that has been digitally photographed and transcribed by some qualified researcher assigned to it. And with still better photography. Multi-spectral imaging, the current state-of-the-art technique, is not yet three-dimensional, for example, and doesn't let you see round corrugations and folds in the surface—but that will happen, and soon; digital flattening of papyri is already in prospect.
I won't attempt to catalogue the vast results of two centuries and more of papyrology in this space. It's not even a start to say that almost all the wonders of Greek lyric poetry are the gift to us of these years, and that more appears yearly, like the new Archilochus elegy (P.Oxy. 4708), and the new Sappho. Even more striking is the immense and ongoing addition to our knowledge of once-lost ancient dramatic literature—previously known largely by sententious quotations, and now known by generous passages of action and dialogue from previously unknown plays thanks to papyrology, so that no one understands the real, astonishing complexities of Aeschylus' or Sophocles' or Euripides' stage presentation, psychology, or thoughts about gender and class without them. Or the wondrous fragments of lower genres like mime. But to talk about what I do not work on is nothing compared to talking about what I do, the Herculaneum papyri. When I first contemplated joining the international group of new readers of these who, thanks to the late Marcello Gigante's enthusiasm and leadership, were being welcomed to the study of the precious originals at Naples in 1990, I remember how Elizabeth Asmis said: ‘Don't be afraid: any good scholar who has the patience can read them.’ Sixteen years later, I realize that she might have added: ‘and the lifespan.’ But she was still perfectly right.
The Herculaneum papyri, like other ancient Greek literary papyri, present one only with uncials and no, or only one or two simple, abbreviations, depending on the scribe, and are mostly very beautifully and clearly written. On the other hand, they are very fragmentary, presenting what approximates most nearly to continuous text (for many gaps remain) only from the more malleable and less burned insides of rolls. Another difficulty is that they give us very nearly our only surviving examples of Greek prose—not just philosophical prose but any formal prose—from the age of Cicero, and their idiosyncratic vocabulary is sometimes only paralleled by Greek words casually dropped, as being current and conversational, by Cicero into his Latin letters. Most of them come from an Epicurean philosophical library that probably belonged to Philodemus of Gadara c.110–30 bce. His patron, L. Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus, consul in 58 bce and father-in-law (p. 768) to Julius Caesar, probably owned the great Villa of the Papyri after which the Getty Villa museum in Los Angeles is modelled (though there were two floors, recent excavation has revealed, below the atrium terrace that Getty's architect had never heard of). The whole family were devout Epicureans, including Piso's daughter Calpurnia, whose dream before Caesar's death Plutarch (Caesar 63) characterizes as a brief excursion into superstition that startled Caesar because she had never before exhibited a tendency to believe in dreams, gods, or omens in all the years of their marriage. Philodemus taught them and others (under their sponsorship) Epicureanism and the history and doctrines of other current philosophies that competed with it. These others included, as was guessed in the nineteenth century and confirmed in 1989, Virgil and three of his, and Horace's, closest friends: Quintilius, Varius Rufus, and Plotius Tucca. (The latter two edited the Aeneid after Virgil's death.) Some of the books (again, most probably) were acquired by Philodemus in Athens, where he studied before he came to Italy, and were intended to last his own teaching lifetime. They include works of the Master himself, Epicurus, otherwise not preserved. Very many are lectures and treatises he himself wrote and first-rate scribes transcribed for him. Just as his language tells us about Greek prose of a period otherwise unrecoverable, his philosophy, or as much as we can read of it, tells us how Epicureans adapted their philosophy for Roman audiences of the days of Cicero, who knew Philodemus himself, and liked him personally even though he had violent political quarrels with Caesar and Piso.
Catullus also knew his work; at least he imitates one or two of Philodemus' clever epigrams, which we know Cicero also enjoyed, two-dozen of which survive in the manuscripts of the Greek Anthology. These poems—so typically of today's world of discovery in papyri—have recently been enlarged by the opening four or five words of twenty-seven more epigrams previously unknown, in a papyrus index like the ‘index of first lines’ in an Oxford Book of Verse. The papyrus was published in 1987, and is now available in high-quality images on the Oxyrhynchus Papyri website (see ‘Suggested Reading’ below).
Philodemus, the author of most of the Herculaneum papyri, ought to be a prime example of the kind of interesting new character added by papyri to classical history. He was a person risen from the masses at the fringe of the Roman Empire to associate with the classes at the centre, a writer with unusual and liberal and unconventional opinions and touches of style that influenced the canon of certified great writers, though he wrote poetry (as far as we know) only in the ‘minor’ genre of epigram, and rarely makes use of an elaborate or rhetorical style in his prose. But Philodemus' writings have had an unusual fate. They were discovered in the 1750s at the Villa, but what can be read now was mostly opened by the best machines available in the late eighteenth century. It was a hundred years before scholarly editions of them started to appear, and not all of these can be cited with confidence. It takes a specialist to know which of them can be cited and what parts are better (p. 769) than others. Still important in editing are the drawings (disegni) made of them at first opening by artists who, it was supposed, would do better for knowing nothing of Greek but the alphabet, or not even that. These contain much significant text that was lost in the processes of opening, mounting, and hanging them for display on museum walls. (They are now kept more responsibly in cabinets.) Though remarkably well done, particularly in representing proportion and space in the lettering, they contain many errors. A remarkable number of editions of Philodemus—nearly until Marcello Gigante's day in the 1970s, when microscopes were first introduced into Herculaneum study—were done from the drawings, either alone, or with the help of examinations of the papyrus itself that seem in most cases to have taken nothing like what we would now think enough time to produce results. The standards of papyrology in those days allowed for liberal and unconvincing supplementation in ill-considered Greek, and the snobbery against Philodemus as a minor and subcanonical writer led to a search for fantasy-fragments created by these supplements alone of everything from tragedy to Xenophon, in the assumption that these would give the poor man's text an interest it did not have in itself. As great a man as Hermann Diels could produce two-dozen columns of an important text, De Dis Book 1 (Diels 1916), in which hardly a single sentence was perfect and many whole pages made only something like sense, just because he read the papyrus and supplemented in contradiction to the drawings wherever he liked. Discarding this sort of thing wholesale and starting over as the photographs dictate, producing a cleaner text consisting only of dots for what is lost, supplementing only with Greek that makes sense and precisely fits the traces for what remains, is one of the great pleasures of a Herculaneum scholar's life. The whole world of international work on Herculaneum texts started changing for the better under Gigante from the 1970s. I myself am grateful beyond words for my seven years of study with him at various times before the new MSI photographs came along in 2000 and revolutionized Herculaneum work at once. They gave me a respect for the importance the original has for an editor, which I would not otherwise have known. But digital photography makes a better world for the fragile papyri as well as the scholar: they can be consulted as little as possible for the work and thus survive as long as possible.
If Philodemus was to be cited with confidence there had to be a text the world of scholarship could control and, hard as we laboured between 1993 and 2000, we were making some but not enough appear; nor did we really see how, without the same number of visits to Naples on their part, our texts could be talked back to by other scholars. Now at last we do. The papyri have all been done (and continue to be redone) in MSI photography by the team headed by Roger Macfarlane of Brigham Young University, and the ‘N’ (or ‘Naples’) disegni have also been imaged by them. The earlier ‘O’ disegni, taken to Oxford late in the Napoleonic wars, have already been made accessible in high resolution (enough to show even letters erased and written over by the copyists) on the Herculaneum Society's site. The details of (p. 770) access by low-or high-resolution images to the whole collection are soon to be resolved.
Philodemus has more interesting writings soon to be citable with confidence than I can list here. In particular, there are attractive writings on emotions such as the fear of death and anger, on Epicurean logic, on music and poetry, on the history of Hellenistic philosophy—in all of which there really are, even when one subtracts for the imagination of nineteenth-century scholars overwriting their text, crucial fragments both of famous authors and of many authors who, but for him, would be only names or not even names.
Perhaps I could conclude with one concrete sample (to parallel the Sappho discovery with which I began) of the kind of thing that turns up all the time as we work, and that scholarship makes use of the minute we turn it up. In P. Herc. 403.5, from Philodemus, On Poems Book 5, Philodemus is opposing the Stoic theory that the true explanation of (apparently immoral) myth and plot in poetry is allegorical and mystical. Rather, he says, what is strange and surprising about poetic language comes in origin from the sorts of twist on language made in early times to name new inventions:
For in general the strange language (xenophōnia) of the poets appeared among men for no other reason than envious imitation (zelotupian) of those using new words for new useful inventions …
Before, editors had printed Xenophōnta for xenophōnia and imagined a work of Xenophon on poets. Now that Richard Janko and I have reconstructed it, we can be sure of the text from the photographs, and a new stage, unknown before, is added to the Epicurean theory of the development of human language set out in Lucretius, On the Nature of Things 5: the origin of the distortion of language toward the ‘poetic’. This text made its impression so quickly that its first appearance was in an article taking account of it (Holmes 2005: 567).
Discoveries of this sort are constantly being made even in what had seemed the better-established Herculaneum texts. The resources now available make improvements possible, small and large, in virtually every paragraph. And many thousands of texts remain unpublished, both from the Herculaneum collection and from Egyptian mummy stuffing (cartonnage) and rubbish dumps, such as those at Oxyrhynchus. Still more may yet emerge from renewed excavations at the Villa of the Papyri at Herculaneum. Theodor Mommsen is reported to have said that the twentieth century would be the century of papyrology. But now, at the dawn of the twenty-first century, the discipline may be said to be flourishing and generating new discoveries more than ever before. And the publication of these discoveries, plus the imaging of what already has been given the world, will at last allow for interaction by all interested and qualified readers.
(p. 771) Suggested Reading
There are more collections visible on the web every year: there are the records and images of papyri, and many related links, accessible through the APIS project (Advanced Papyrological Information System): see www.columbia.edu/dlc/apis. The resources listed on APIS' Papyrological Resources page are especially helpful; outstanding among them are the Duke Data Bank of Documentary Papyri (DDBDP), the Leuven Database of Ancient Books (LDAB), and the Mertens-Pack 3 catalogue of literary papyri, with continually updated bibliographical aids. Easily findable through APIS in turn, or any non-specialist search engine, are attractive collections sites. A few of the most interesting are: the University of California Tebtunis Papyri (http://tebtunis.berkeley.edu); the University of Michigan Papyrus Home Page (www.lib.umich.edu/pap/), which includes a number of educational items for beginners; the sites for the Oxyrhynchus papyri (www.papyrology.ox.ac.uk/POxy); the Friends of Herculaneum Society (www.herculaneum.ox.ac.uk); and Die Papyrus-Sammlung in Köln (http://uni-koeln.de/phil-fak/ifa/NRWakademie/papyrologie). A way into all of these and many more, with information about no fewer than 1,096 collections, with homepage links to all that have them, can be had at the Leuven Homepage of Papyrus Collections (currently www.trismegistos.org/coll.php).
There are many papyrological journals listed and with available indexes on these sites. Especially valuable for the literary and documentary student is the tracking of new appearances in the Oxyrhynchus Papyri series (1898–), and Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik (ZPE) (1967–) (many volumes, and full indexes, available at http://uni-koeln.de/phil-fak/ifa/zpe/). For Herculaneum work, central items are the annual Cronache Ercolanesi produced at the Centro Internazionale per lo Studio dei Papiri Ercolanesi (CISPE), with its notiziario in each issue enabling scholars to follow ongoing work; and the series of Herculaneum texts La Scuola di Epicuro (so far 17 volumes). For full details of both: www.cispegigante.it/, the CISPE website.
Any selection of the literature geared as introductory must be a little arbitrary, but here is mine (the introductions to the volumes by Janko and Obbink set out with remarkable clarity what is unique about the parameters of Herculaneum work): Bagnall 1995 (does not require Greek: discusses the use of papyri for historians); Bagnall and Cribiore 2006 (does not require Greek); Capasso (1991, 2005); Cribiore 2001 (very accessible to non-classicists); Hurtado 2006 (helpful, up-to-date survey of questions related, but not limited, to Christian papyri); Janko 2000; Johnson 2004; Obbink 1996; Pestman 1994; Sider 2005 (besides a fine survey of what is known about the library, this includes a good chapter on the ancient book and the ancient book trade); Turner 1973 (a pamphlet-sized treatise—c.50 pages: more ‘introductory’ than Pestman's but like it requiring Greek), (1980, 1987).
Turner 1973 said that we live in the age of the ‘Manuscript Explosion’, with greater discoveries in the last 100 years (now 130) ‘than at any time since the Renaissance’. That continues to be true. I can only mention as examples two or three discoveries that are generating new interest and scholarship as I write: the website for the new Milan papyrus epigrams of Posidippus, first published in 2001 and generating an ever-increasing volume of study and interest, which offers an introduction, continually updated bibliography and other resources (http://chs.harvard.edu/publications.sec/classics.ssp/issue_i_posidippus.pg/issue_i_introduction.pg); the new elegiacs of Archilochus, P. Oxy. 4708 (see www.papyrology.ox.ac.uk/POxy/monster/demo/Page1.html); the new elegiacs, P.Oxy. 4711, giving fragments (p. 772) of a Hellenistic Metamorphoses, and also available at the Oxyrhynchus website (www.papyrology.ox.ac.uk/POxy/papyri/4711.html). Also, the Derveni papyrus, an important early religious and philosophical text of controversial date and authorship discovered in Greece in 1962, already intensively studied on the basis of partially unreliable preliminary transcriptions, has finally appeared in a complete authorized edition with images as Kouremenos, Parassoglou, and Tsantsanoglou (2006).
These are just examples of work ongoing. Regularly updated bibliographies for these and the other literary texts preserved in ancient manuscripts can be found in LDAB and Mertens-Pack 3 (see above).
Bagnall, R. 1995. Reading Papyri, Writing Ancient History. London.Find this resource:
——and Cribiore, R. 2006. Women's Letters from Ancient Egypt, 300 BC-AD 800. Ann Arbor, Mich.Find this resource:
Capasso, M. 1991. Manuale di papirologia ercolanese. Galatina.Find this resource:
——2005. Introduzione alla papirologia. Dalla pianta di papiro all'informatica papirologica. Bologna.Find this resource:
Cribiore, R. 2001. Gymnastics of the Mind: Greek Education in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt. Princeton.Find this resource:
Diels, H. 1916. Philodemos ‘Über die Götter’, erstes Buch. Berlin.Find this resource:
Holmes, B. 2005. ‘Daedala Lingua: Crafted Speech in De Rerum Natura.’ AJP 126: 527–85.Find this resource:
Hurtado, L. W. 2006. The Earliest Christian Artifacts: Manuscripts and Christian Origins. Grand Rapids, Mich.Find this resource:
Janko, R. ed. 2000. Philodemus: ‘On Poems’, Book 1. Oxford.Find this resource:
Johnson, W. A. 2004. Bookrolls and Scribes in Oxyrhynchus. Toronto.Find this resource:
Kouremenos, T., Parassoglou, G. M., and Tsantsanoglou, K. eds. 2006. The Derveni Papyrus. Florence.Find this resource:
Kouremenos, T., Parassoglou, G. M., and Tsantsanoglou, K. eds. 2006. The Derveni Papyrus. Florence.Find this resource:
Obbink, D. ed. 1996. Philodemus: ‘On Piety’. Part 1. Oxford. (Part 2 is in press.)Find this resource:
Pestman, P. W. 1994. The New Papyrological Primer. 2nd edn. Leiden.Find this resource:
Sider, D. 2005. The Library of the Villa dei Papiri at Herculaneum. Los Angeles.Find this resource:
Turner, E. 1973. The Papyrologist at Work. Durham, NC.Find this resource:
——1980. Greek Papyri: An Introduction. Rev. edn. Oxford.Find this resource:
——1987. Greek Manuscripts of the Ancient World. 2nd edn. London.Find this resource:
West, M. L. 2005. ‘A New Sappho Poem.’ Times Literary Supplement (24 June), 8.Find this resource: