CHAPTER I Ancient biography and formalities of fiction Koen De Temmerman Fictiveness and fiction ‘Is there in fact any specific difference between factual and imaginary narrative, any linguistic feature by which we may distinguish on the one hand the mode appropriate to the relation of historical events ... and on the other hand the mode appropriate to the epic, novel or drama?’ Roland Barthes’ (1970: 145) famous question of whether fictional literature is characterized by any formal specificity has triggered varying responses, Some, among them Barthes himself, answer this question in the negative! but others, with a view to the inclusion of non-fictional texts as objects of narratological study, have identified a number of textual criteria for fictionality? This book brings this discussion to the field of ancient bio- graphical narrative. OF course, I do not want to suggest that there is such a thing as one mode of writing appropriate-to biography (or other so-called ‘historical genres) and another mode appropriate to fiction, as a straightforwardly Positive answer to Barthes’ question would imply. It has been sufficiently pointed out that the borderline between fiction and non-fiction is perme- able in almost all kinds of narrative.’ In this volume, we are interested in instances that explore the blurred borderline between historicity and fic- tionality that is commonly accepted, including by ancient writers them- selves, to characterize ancient biography (as well as other ancient so-called " See also Searle (1979: 58-75), who locates the distinctive character of fiction rather in ‘extralinguis- fe, nonsemantic conventions’ (66). * See, most notably, Cohn (1999), who is explicit that ‘iction is ruled by formal patterns ruled out in all other orders of discourse’ (vi). * An example of such birring is provided by maxims (gnémailsententiae), which in works of fction inttoduce pockets of non-fictionality. See Genette (1991: 58-61) and, for the ancient novel, Hig (1971: 107) and Mogan (1993: 202-203). On maxims in Greek fictional narrative and some of their (problematic) heuristic implicacions, see Whitmarsh (2003: 193) L.tarmly thank che anonymous reviewers at Carabridge Univesity Press and the co-editor of this ek; Kristoffel Demoen, for much valuable advice and very helpful suggestions and comment, 34 KORN DE TEMMERMAN ‘non-fictional’ genres).' ‘The earliest representatives of ancient Lives con- tain fictive elements and elements that we now recognize as having later become important markers of ancient novelistic literature. Apart from Xenophon of Athens’ routinely cited Cyropaedia (fourth century BCE), a number of other (Platonic as well as Xenophontic) writings such as Apology, Phaedo, Memorabilia and Agesilaus are also informed, to greater or lesser extents, by modes of writing that had an important role to play in Jater biographical discourse.‘ Indeed, among so-called non-fictional narra- tive genres, biography seems particularly conducive to slippages into the realm of fiction. It is not just that in some biographies rhetorical elabo- ration implies fictionalization” because of the work’ encomiastic aim* (an ieatte discussed explicitly by ancient biographers’) It is also that the gen- tral question of heuristic possibility in biography Chow does the narrator know what he is narrating?"*) almost naturally implies conjecture, inter- pretation and reconstruction of actions, private moments, motivations and attitudes." This inevitably causes even modern biography, which much more than its ancient counterpart is unambiguously expected to roe clear and rather rigid standards concerning factual correctness and historicity, to flirt with notions of fiction. In fact, Cohn (1999: 18-37) singles out (modern) biographical narrative as the generic region where factual and fictional narratives come into closest proximity and rightly chosrves that ‘any biographer who goes beyond the mere compilation of vital facts will be more or less concerned with his subject’s mental actions and reactions. ‘The question is not whether but how he will express these concerns’ (her italics). Of course, the field of ancient biography is a broad and highly diver sified one, with significant differences between individual biographies «This book does not cover autobiography, which in « number of ways s significantly different from biography and would need 1 be placed in a specific context, See Cohn (1999: 30-37) on the radical differcnee between the wo. See, for exarnple, Mueller-Goldingen (2004: 8) and Holzberg (1996: 18-28). See Hligg (20122: 19-66) for a discussion of biographical modes of discourse in all these texts, On our ase of this cerm (as different from ‘fictiveness’) see pp. 12-16 below. Pernot (1993). On encomiastic description of virtues as ¢ nducive to fietionalization in Xen. Agesilas, see Yigg (20r2a: 41-51). And see Hag (20128: 97) 0m biography amplifying a selection of achievements and omitting less flattering facts. + See, for example, Gyselinck and Demoen (2009) on Philostatus) Lif of Apollonius, Hage, (Qor2a: 197-204) on Nicolaus of Darnascus’ Life of August © On the particular felevance of this question when scenes are documented in great detail, see Hamburger (1957: 21-27) and Genette (1991: 74) On psychic representation and fictionalization, sce pp. (7-18 below. v» Goh agi: 9-10; 1999: 26). Fora similar observation on ancient biography particular, see Hig Go12a: 3)Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 5 as well as sub-genres. The Greek collective and individual Lives of (con- temporary and historical) intellectuals, for example, are traditionally considered more imaginative than their political counterparts.” And the fictionalization involved in so-called ‘open biographies’, such as the Life of Aesop and the Alexander Romance, is characterized by an additional layer of complexity as their segmentary composition is arguably con- ducive to the omission of some of the historical (or pseudo-historical) material, the absorption of other material (such as folklore) and the subordination of internal consistency to the wish to include exciting stories. Before contextualizing our approach and documenting it in detail, we need to give definitions of two concepts that at first sight may seem deceptively unproblematic. Wheteas fiction and fictiveness ate often used as synonyms, this book adopts a distinction.» We use the word ‘fictive(ness)’ as a reference to the truth-value of an account. The term denotes the lack (or absence) of verifiable, historical and factual accuracy." ‘Traditionally, what we label as ‘fictive’ is identified as ‘untruth’, ‘lies’, ‘fabrication’ or ‘imagination’ and opposed to ‘truth’. In this conceptual ization, the main criterion is whether or not something actually happened (or is accepted to haye happened) in factual, historical reality, At the same time the question of vetisimilitude is no less important, As is well known, the combination of these two questions informs the famous and influen. tial ancient distinction between fibula (events that have not taken place and are not credible; Gr. whaopatixdy, plasmatikon or Spaparixdy, dram- atikon), argumentum (events that have not taken place but are credible; Gr. 1060s, mythos) and historia (events that have (or are believed to have) taken place; Gr. totopic, historia). In scholarship on ancient narrative genres, the opposition between truth and fictiveness was prevalent for a long time. Momigliano (1993: 46-49), for example, famously complains that fourth-century biographers never bothered to distinguish reality and See, for example, Pelling (200%: 147-148). Sco Higg (2o12a: 99-147, esp. 8). Sce Cohn (1999: 2-17) for an overview of various meanings of ‘fictic discourse. In fact, in different types of I 8 coincides with whac the Oxford Dictionary of English (ged eda, 2010) defines 2s ficsion’s "2, something that is invented or untrue ... A belief of statement which is false, but is often held to be true because it is expeitient to dso.” Sce Green (2002: 13) on fabrication in this sense. the tripartition is first found in the Rhetorica ad Herennium 1.13 and has been very influential in ancient and medieval narrative cheory. Sec Green (2002: 3-17), Hiigg (2o12b: 25-27) and Bréchet, Videau and Webb (2013: 8-9)6 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN imagination.” Along, similar lines (but paying attention co truth rather than imagination), othets have examined in detail ancient biographies as sources of historical fact (with questions about historicity and source matcrial),?° cultural history and the history of ideas.” In recent years, significant attempts have been made in historical stud- ies to move beyond this opposition."* Our volume presents ways to do so from a literary point of view. Our two main, related assumptions are simple ones and hardly revolutionary: ancient biographies were not meant to be read as hermetically sealed depositories of a ‘historical’ truth and no simple dichotomy between fact and fictiveness can adequately grasp the complexities of narrative literature. A ‘false’ account should not neces- sarily be taken to indicate an author's tendency to ‘deceive’ an audience by deliberately deviating from a given source (as Bernheim 1889 assumes, who has received some support). Iris in going beyond the distinction between truth and fictiveness that there is some mileage in distinguishing fictiveness from fiction, the latter of which we define as untruth that is intended mor to be believed as truth but rather to be acknowledged as untruth, In so doing, we follow Green's (2002: 4) definition: Fiction is a category of literary text which, although it may also include events that were held to have actually taken place, gives an account of events that could not conceivably have taken place and/or of events chat, although possible, did not rake place, and which, in doing so, invites the intended audience to be willing to make-believe what would otherwise be regarded as untrue."* Crucial to fiction, then, is the contractual relationship between its sender (the author, storyteller, etc.) and recipient (the reader, listener, etc.).* © See also Barnes (2010: 153) on ‘authentic documents’ and ‘bogus documents’ in hagiography; Murray (Go46: 15) on Satyrus’ ‘indifference to historical fact’ in the Lift of Euripides, Bollansée (1999: xi) on Hermippus’ unbounded creduliey, deliberate mendacity and malicious inventions (with more balanced judgements in Bollansée (toggb: 117-187); ‘and Wehrli (1974: 192-107), both cited by Hiigg, Gora: 88)). Often, but not in our book, fictivencss in this sense is labelled a¢ ‘Resion' eee, for ample, Momigliano (1993: 56-57) on the need of biographers to resort to (what he calls) fltion snd Figg (20128; 4) on the distinction berween historcity/fact ancl (what he calls tion. See, for example, Fairweather (i974) and Bames (2010). * See, for example, Swain (1997). For a recent state of the and historicity in hagiographical writings, see Turner (2012: “Turner (2012) is.a good example. » See, for example, Bames (1997). +4 Similarly, Morgan (201s: 186-187) defines fiction as ‘untruth nor intended ro deccive, acknowl: edged a5 untruth by sender and recipient. » For a comparable, contractual approach co the notion of genre rather than fiction, see Adams 015: 1-5). about notions of truthfulness, realism 22).Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 7 Agapitos and Boje Mortensen (2012: 15) argue that such a contractual approach establishes fiction by definition as a very fluid and relative concept: there are no inherent traits in a text which make it fictional (and exactly the same text can, in principle, be historical for one audience and fictional for another), nor is the inventiveness of the author of relevance, It all resides in a contract between author/storyteller and a specific audience (in practice the contract often has to be decoded from the text and intertexts if clear extratextual evidence is missing). However, as we will see, in some cases it is precisely this contract that seems to be inextricably bound up with, dependent on and negotiated by such ‘inherent traits’. We will refer to such traits as ‘techniques of fiction- alization’; rather than at once making an entire text fictional, they often exert a fictionalizing impact that is much mote transient or local, as we will see (pp. 14-25). Fiction and biography A fundamental quality of fiction is what Cohn (1999: 9-17) characterizes eferentiality or self-referentiality. "This characterization hinges on the insight that ‘a work of fiction itself creates the world to which it refers by referring to it (Cohn 1999: 13). Unlike non-fictional narrative, fictional narratives do not need to refer to an extratextual reality ~ they can be solely selfreferential.6 Of course, they more often than not do make reference to extra-literaty realities (for example by setting charac- ters and events in well-known or recognizable places) and therefore adopt what Harshaw (1984: 249) characterizes as a ‘double-decker’ model of ref erence: an internal frame (for example, the fictional, strictly self-referential events that happen to Callirhoe and Chaereas in Chariton’s novel) nested within an external frame (for example, the cities of Syracuse, Miletus and Babylon, where much of Chariton’s action is set). ‘The ancient biographies discussed in this book, even those commonly accepted to be fictional such as the Life of Aesop (Karla, Chapter 3) and the pseudo-Hippocratic letters (Kndbl, Chapter 15), differ from ‘pure’ fic- tion precisely by their inability to be solely self-referential. Just like other kinds of referential narrative, such as historiography, they inevitably refer, at least to some extent, to a preceding tradition of existing material, even as its mon: See also MacDonald (1954: 176) and Margolin (199: 520)8 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN if this material is of a legendary rather than a factual, historical kind.” “The difference between referentiality and non-referentiality comes into particularly sharp focus when we turn to an area central to biographical writing: its characters, the so-called biographees.** Purely fictional charac- ters (such as Apuleius’ Lucius, for example) have to or can be constructed out of nothing by a narrator: they do not exist before their invention in a specific literary work. ‘This means, first, that their life-spans are well delineated, As Margolin (2007: 67) puts it, Cervantes’ Don Quixote ‘was horn when the text bearing his name was written down, and will go on living as long as at least one copy of it remains and at least one person reads it. It also means that fictional characters are exactly as a narrator (or multiple narrators within the same work) depicts them. Margolin (2007: 68) argues that, since texts are finite, textually created characters are ‘tadically incomplete’ as regards the number and nature of the proper- ties ascribed to them: ‘Generally, which (kinds of) properties are specified of not and how many ate a function of the text’s length and of the author's artistic method, Some authors are sparing on physical details, while others provide no access to characters’ minds, Even if Margolin’s claim is a fair one (any given narrative will never be able to explore all potentially inter- esting aspects of a character), | think that the notion of ‘incompleteness’ in this context is problematic from a logical point of view. By definition, it implies its opposite and, indeed, makes sense only if we have an idea ‘of what this opposite is. In the case of fictional, purely self-referential characters, this clearly is not the case: there is no such thing as a ‘com- plete’ version of a fictional character other than the version depicted in the narrative, The reason is, of course, that all characteristics that one can possibly think of but with which the author bas been ‘sparing’ are sim- ply not part of this character, It is impossible to tell what these charac- teristics are because they exist nowhere, and to imply that they do (for example by labelling the sum of what és included in a narrative as “incom- plete’) is, logically speaking, incorrect. Therefore, I would suggest that the depiction of fictional characters may very well be semantically limited in +r See, for eximple, Kivilo (2010), who explores tiaditional material dustering around the lives of carly Greck poets and its development over time. From a theoretical polit ‘of view, see Cohn {apgor 15) and Scholes (ip8o; 21), the later of whom aptly comments thar ‘the producer of a his- ao ftms thatthe events encexalined did indeed occu before encemtualzation “Thus it is quite proper to bring extrarextal information to bear on those events when interpreting and loan ahistorical narrative tis certainly otherwise im fiction, for in fiction the events may he said te be created by and with the text. They have no prior temporal existence, See for example, Hig (ot2e: 13-14) on the importance of character depiction in biography ever ince the oldest representatives of the gente.Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 9 any given narrative but nevertheless is always complese: any self referential character is, by definition, solely what is communicated about him/her, explicitly or implicitly, by a/the narrator(s). (Certainly, readers are con- tinuously invited to construct portraits of such characters and fill in gaps in their knowledge through interpretation and inference, but such read- etly activity will need 10 be supported by information conveyed, more or less explicitly, wirhin the limited space of the narrative.) Inall these respects, biographees are clearly different. ‘They are not ust ally creations out of nothing but historical or legendary characters who at the moment of literary fixation already exist outside the text in vari- ous other cultural registers, Consequently, although their real, factual life-spans are well delineated (they are born and, in the case of ancient Lives, have usually died before their biographies are committed to paper), their literary life-spans cannot be simply defined because they ate usually already documented to a greater or lesser extent by historical, literary and other cultural traditions before becoming the object of biog- taphies. Unlike fictional characters, therefore, biogtaphces are never solely as narrators depict them within a given text because, quite simply, in biog raphy the act of reference does not coincide with the act of creation. Not only can there be conflicting versions of one and the same biographee,® but biographees can also fade from public interest or new biographies can replace, supplement and/or correct outdated ones." Moreover, the sentation of biographees will also never be as complete as the presen- tation of fictional characters: a biographer is unlikely (or even unable) to cover all aspects of a biographee’s character and achievements entirely and exhaustively.” Paradoxically, then, depictions of fictional characters are, by definition, more complete than those of non-fictional Since the depiction of any biographce is, at least to some extent, deter- mined by historical information and/or cultural traditions bearing upon him/her, biographers cannot simply invest their biographees with what ever charactetistics they like (as inventors of fictional characters can) but ans aracters. » Sulpicius Severus’ Life of Martin of Tours, written while its hero wes still alive, is an exception. Sec Practin this volume and Barnes (2010: 213). ” ‘The arguably most famous ancient example is Soceates, whose importance for the ancient biog- taphical tradition is dealt with by Beck and Robiano in this volume. See Higg (20120: 75-76) on difference versions of this figure in Aristoxenus, Xenophon and Plato. * ss ample Hilgg (20122: 69) on Aristoxenus’ Life of Pythagoras and biography being ‘notori- ously ephemeral’. * Tecan even beargued, as Haig (20122: 40) does, that in ancient biography especially, where charac ter offen hag a elear moral Function, too many personal and individ ualized traits would diffuse any clear moral message.10 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN configure their depictions by tapping into pre-existing traditions, Good toamples in this volume are discussed by Chiisty and Knabl: both deal ‘vith ways in which a biographical narrative (in KnObl’s case 2 tale of two people rather than one) is built up through letters, invites readers to fill interpretative gaps and exploits their pre-existing knowledge of great clas- sical figures (Plato and Xenophon in Christy's chapter, Hippocrates and Democritus in Kndbl’s). And both show how the popularity of these fig- ures at the time of writing affects the narrative layout. While Barthes, as aes ve ceen in the opening paragraph, opposes ‘non-Factual’ types of discourse such as novels and drama to what he considers to be a factual ‘relation of historical events’, this book takes as one of its starting points the idea that the task of narrators of such ‘factual’ discourse in biogra- phies is, in fact, similar to that of, say, ancient tragedians, who also build their particular versions of Oedipus or Achilles amidst a wealth of avail- able traditional material about these figures.» Whereas in the case of ancient tragedians this material is mostly of a mythological nature, it is more likely to be historiographical or legendary in biographical narra- tives as these often address the (precision of the) reader's documentation tnd knowledge about the biogeaphee on the basis of external factual and often conflicting source material.” Of course, not all biographies work like this, There are also acknowl- edged fictions cast in the form of biographies such as Borges’ Universal Futory of Infimy and Nabokovs The Real Life of Sebastian Knights which are built around purely fictional characters. ‘These biographies deal with characters whose ontological status is more like that of novel- istic heroes such as Chariton’s Chaereas and Petronius’ Encolpius than that of fellow-biographees such as Philostratus Apollonius or Plutarch's or Ps.-Callisthenes’ Alexander. Such narratives are accommodated by Cohn’s (1999: 18-30) distinction between ‘biography’ (of a real person; ¢8- Strachey, Queen Victoria) and ‘fictional biography’ (of an invented per- son, e.g, Tolstoy, /van Thich). Another category, finally, is fictional biog- raphy of historical people, which is concerned with referential characters but does not necessarily relate them to existing traditions. Instead, read- ers can choose to take the characters lives, like those of novel heroes, to be wholly contained within the single text. This occurs in the modern world with works such as Allan Massie’s Tiberius and Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall, which arguably do not require (but may still very well invite, 1 See Hligg and Rousseau (2000 15-14) on biographers as dramatists. 51 Sce, for example, Hshn (1989).Ancient biography and formalities of fiction a of course) their readers to take into account pre-existing narrative mate- rial about their protagonists (the Roman emperor and Thomas Cromwell respectively). The boundaries drawn here are not impermeable. Cohn rightly bigh- lights that the line between ‘biography’ and. ‘fictional biography’ ‘can be straddled, even traversed’ (1999: 19). This is what happens in most ancient biographies and, indeed, in most biographies discussed in this book: they are ~ in Cohn’s terms — ‘biographies’ rather than “fictional biographies’ but nevertheless fictionalized. However, this is not true for ad biograph- ical narratives discussed in this book: for some biographees, it is not even clear whether they ever were historical persons. ‘The fabulist Aesop and the philosopher Demonax (whose Lives are dealt with by Karla and Beck respectively in this volume), for example, cannot be said with certainty to have existed (although they probably did),* just as it is unclear to what extent Jerome was convinced that he was dealing with a historical figure when writing his Life of Paul the First Hermit (an example of a biography of a character who can only with difficulty be held to have existed outside thar text — as he is presented in it anyway).” But in any case, even the Lives of biographees whose factual historicity is, in fact, uncertain contribute to and place themselves in a tradition of existing legendary, common or widespread material. In this respect, they are at least to some extent referential characters, even if only by name — just like historical biographees and unlike fictional characters. Given the referential nature of most biographical narrative, readers of the Lives of Aesop and Demonax, like readers of Sueconius and Plutarch, are invited/ encouraged to relate the narrative to pre-existing narrative material in a way that readers of Longus and Apuleius are not. Therefore, their image of Aesop or Demonax at the end of the reading process depends not neces- sarily only on characterization in the text itself but possibly also on an interplay of wider cultural, literary and historical factors implicating these characters from the moment they start reading the very first page. Given the reader’s (possible) a priori knowledge, the task of narrators in most ® Tthank the anonymons reviewer at Cambridge University Press for this observation and for the examples. See Hansen (1998: 106) om Aesop, and Beck (this volume) on Demonax. Kelly (1975: 61) and Weingarten (2005: 19-20) suggest that Jerome did indeed think of Paul as 4 historical figute. On this if as a ‘complete fiction’, on the other hand, see Barnes (2010: 172, 176-184). On the ‘invention’ of this figure, see Rebenich (2009). See also Turner (zo12: 67-69) on uncertainty surrounding identities (of holy men) and the impor- tance of literary technique in the assessment of realism. “2 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN biographies is not to construct a character (as in fiction), but to recon- struct a historical (and/or more or less legendary) person, thereby con- structing a particular version of this person. Such (more or less creative) reconstruction raises distinctive questions in the reader’s mind that con- cern fictionalization, though it is not a straightforward matter to capture such fictionalization in a single ancient term. Fictionalization It is the concept of fictionalization that is central to this book ~ and that this chapter will now continue to clarify. In line with the contractual con- ceptualization of fiction, a bipolar opposition between fiction and cruth has met resistance from literary theorists. Walsh (2005: 151; 2007: 13-37)> for example, argues that we should not respond to fictionality as a simple problem of truthfulness or detach the fictional act from the domain of truth, Instead, he defines it as a problem of relevance” and thus under- stands it not as an ontological category but as a communicative resource activating functional, rhetorical and communicative protocols. ‘This works very well as long, as (and, precisely, because) we, as readers, are aware that we are reading, fiction — and, indeed, such an awareness is repeatedly presented by Walsh as one of the main assumptions informing reading processes: we read and react to Kafka’s The Trial the way we do ‘because we found the book in the fiction section of the bookstore, or we are reading it for a course on the modern novel, or we have a prior general knowledge of Kafka’ However, the point of most of the biographies dealt with in this book is, precisely, that it is not at all clear whether and to what extent they should be read — or were ever conceived to be read — as fictional. In many cases, in fact, biographers go out of their way to enhance the verisimilitude of their accounts, but the precise authorial intent embedded in their works ‘often remains much more difficult to determine than in modern narrative, where it is more readily observable from so-called ‘paratextual’ elements such » Seq for example Walsh (2005: 157): "Tes the presumption of relevance, nor any expection of lie See er lance, tha drives the reader search for an appropriate interpretative context’ se Yalek (00s 60), See ako 159 Cin the comprehension of a fictive wererances the assumplion ao pate iy sel manifest), 162 (itionalicy isa contextual assurmprion by the ceude, prompted by the manifest information that the authori discout ‘offered as fiction’) and 163 {a pragmatic theory of fcsionality ... claims that Fictions do offer dircedy ‘communicated cog Cree Eenets, foreground bythe contestual assumption of fetonality ‘self: my italic) See also aa rear g)on such a clea distinction between fictional and factual discourse (exempt fad by the difference between a novel by Iris Murdoch and a fragment from a journalists factual narrative).Ancient biography and formalities of fiction B as titles, book covers and blurbs." It is no coincidence that the one chapter in this volume addressing these paratextual aspects of an ancient biographical corpus (Burgersdijk, Chapter 13) draws attention to their problematic and ambiguous character rather than their explanatory potential. This book centres on the question of how ancient biographical narra- tives articulate contracts with readers about (non-)fictionality and believ- ability. Ic is well known that fiction, deliberately engineered as it is to conceive a ‘pretended’ reality, can also act as a vehicle conveying ‘serious’ messages of, for example, religious or ideological kinds.** Fables conveying moral truths and spiritual narratives conveying intellectual and/or relig- ious ones* are among the best-known examples. Ancient biographical texts too show a clear tendency to subordinate factual, historical truth to different aims, such as the communication of ideological (in the chap- ters by Ash, Power, Christy), religious (Praet, Gray), moral (De Pourcq and Roskam, Karla), philosophical (Kechagia) or poetic (Power) sorts of truth. To be sure, such aims sometimes involve fictiveness: for example, the invention of material (Karla, Knobl) or the adoption of (what we perceive as problematic) anachronisms (Praet, Christy). But often biog- raphers are careful to shape narratives that are not incompatible with source material, They may, for example, intervene at the level of dispo- sition rather than on that of invention of material.*® In such cases, not the narrative content itself but rather the story structures are manipulated in support of narrative (sce Konstan and Walsh)* or rhetorical strategies.** Plutarch, for example, manipulates time in order to document char- acter or make a moral point (De Pourcq and Roskam), Lucian puts his * See-also Hodkinson (2or0: 14). And see Searle (1979: 65) on authorial intentions as crucial to the definition of Fiction, and Genette (1991: 89) on paratextual clements indicating the fictional or non-fictional qualities in literary works. On the importance of authorial intention for analysing (collective) biography, see Adams (2013: no-111). © For theoretical considerations, sce Genette (i991: 47) and Searle (1979), the later of whom char- acterizes fictional utterances as ‘nonserious’ (60) and nondeceptive pscudoperformances (65) th are nevertheless capable of communicating ‘serious’ content (69-70), On noncliterary types of dis- course, sce Vaihinger (1911). © See Tamer (sor2: 5, 25-34) on factual and intellectual kinds of truth in such narratives, * Unless otherwise indicated, all citations without dates ate of contributions to this volume. © Soe Hligg (2o1za: 3-4, 251) and, on Plutarch inventing, reconstructing and manipulating for liter- sty purposes, Pelling (200z¢: 152-156, 20026: 307-315), See Francis (1998) on the Life of Apollonius Adams (2013: 2-3) more generally on historically accurate detail not being part of authorial intention in some biogeaphies. “ Sec also Pelling (0026) on Plutarch usually avoiding the invention of lengthy new stories to fill in source material, £7 Sec also Pelling (2002d: 288; 2002«: 516). Sce Hligg (2orza: 49, 223) on structure supporting antithesis and climax (crescendo). sp ” See.14 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN seructure of the Life of Demonax to similar use (Beck), the letters of Chion Sf Heraclea alter traditional chronology for literary ends (Christy) and in the pseudo-Hippocratic letters it is time that has pride of place in the writer’s toolbox as an instrument for Meshing out character and mean- ing (Knabl). In a ways these ate all examples of the general principle that in non-fictional narrative there is a prior series of events on which the construction of the narrative is based. Such construction involves not just possible manipulation of the chronological order of the events (through, for example, flash-backs and flash-forwards) but also the imposition of (causal and other) connections between various episodes, interpretation and colouring of events and characters. ‘Therefore, Hayden White (1978) argues, in a famous and influential work, history inevitably becomes infused with fictionality from the moment that it is presented as narrative. Nanativization imposes a coherent temporal order onto a succession of events and thus provides a certain structure (‘emplotment). ‘This in itself, White observes, implies fictionalization.” ‘Ac the subtitle of this book indicates, we approach this concept in ancient biography from a formal angle, which means that the various con- tributions pay attention to the narrative techniques involved in the con- struction of categories such as time, space and character. As will be shown, these techniques are often suggestive of or show an affinity with fiction as their very adoption points co deviations from historical reality that are often inherent in narrative representation. This is not to say, of course, that the use of such techniques makes an entire narrative fictional; nor are we just looking for ways in which biographical narrative shares techniques with fictional narrative (and perhaps with any narrative, including histori- ography). Rather, we label as fictionalization’ the use of narrative tech- niques that interrogate, destabilize or challenge, if only for a minute, the narrative’s intention to be believed or its claim to be truthful. A famous example of such a fictionalizing technique is ethopoeia or ‘characterization through speech’, which in ancient historiographical and biographical texts was commonly accepted to have been developed and read as an index of a speaking person's character rather than as a factual reproduction of his/her actual words.” As De Poureq and Roskam observe in this volume, words 1» See also for example, Walsh (2005: 152): ‘all narrative is artifice, and in. that very restrictive sense fictive.” b> $ae Wiseman (1993: 132-135). On thetorical claboration as an acknowledged fictionalizing tech nique, conceptualized as such in school ow (both progymnasmaut and declamations), Henderson (2003: 24-25). On the related concept of prosepapacia as a literary device in spiritual narrative, see Turner (2012: 6).Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 15 ascribed to characters in Plutarch’s Lives are most likely fictional and, as Christy (also this volume) shows, the conscious fictionalization of charac- ter through the use of ethopoeia is thematized in Chion’s letter 16, We will presently discuss a number of other such techniques. First, however, it should be mentioned that, at the most general level, our focus chimes with the insight that narrative form (as opposed to content) can act as a device to convey meaning — an insight present not just in mod- ern narratology” but also in ancienc literary theory,* ancient rhetoric in particular.» Modern literary theory on fictionality draws particular atten- tion to how narrative is constructed. As Walsh (2095: 150-151; 2007: 13-37) reminds us, the logic of narrative representation does not always provide for a defensible distinction between fiction and non-fiction and it is there- fore certainly fruitful to curn our attention from the substance of fictional narrative to the act of fictional narration — in other words, from the prod- uct to the production of fiction, OF course, any strict separation between form and content is artifi- cial and previous scholarly interest in the ‘content’ of ancient biography has inevitably involved consideration of its narrative technique too. But whereas there has been a steady stream of narratological analyses of ancient {also so-called ‘non-fictional’) narrative texts since de Jong (1987), much scholarship on ancient biography has primarily approached it as a branch of historiography (with historicity and authenticity having long been vex- ing problems) — an important exception being Plutarch’s Lives, which have received quite some attention from a literary/narratological point of view.» ‘The late Tomas Hiigg ventured into fairly untrodden territory when, in his extremely rich monograph on the art of biography, he explored in great derail a number of literary and narrative devices relevant to our purposes. At the same time, however, he was explicit (2o12a: xi) about leaving lit- crary theory out of the picture and suggested that, therefore, his book ‘is not the final word’, Neither is ours, of course, but Hage’s comment can be On form as the centeal object of narratological research, see de Jong (2004: xii 1999: 10-11). See, for example, Rutherford (1998: 31-36) on the importance of ‘techniques’ in ancient stylisties {for example, methedos defined as a ‘way of adapting a thought’), See also Niinlist (2009) on vati- ous literary devices discussed in ancient scholia. Sce Deinoen (1997) and De Temmerman (2010) on various natrative techniques as discussed in thet ul treatises. De Jong, Nilist and Bowie (2004), de Jong and Niinlist (20074) and de Jong (2012) all include arrarological readings of both fictional and non-fictional narrative. Studies on ancient historiog- raphy (such as Rood (1998) on Thucydides, Riggsby (2006) on Caesar, and Baragwanath (2008) on Herodotus) also illustrate the potential of narratologically sophisticated approaches to non-fictional narrative, Sce, most notably, Pelling (20028) and Duff (1999).16 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN read ag an overt acknowledgement of the fact chat there remains room for 4 nartatological treatment of the gente of ancient biography: Authenticating and fictionalizing Ancient biographers deploy a scholarly apparatus to convey veracity ‘and underline the credibility and reliability of their accounts (so-called Beglaubigung ot authentication strategies, such as reference to autopsy, eye- wwirnesses, written sources and autobiographical documents). They also make explicit truth claims,” even if such claims do not line up unprob- iematically with their actual practice (see, for example, Burgersdijk, Pract and Power in this volume), and anchor their accounts in common know- ledge* of real-life experience. In this volume, Karla, building on Bourdicw (ofa), associates sch anchoring in the Life of Aesop with an underlying ideology of popular aestheties, while Ash shows that Suetonius uses simi lar anchoring to compensate for a dearth of actual source material and to create the illusion of truthfulness for his account of an assassination that took place in a bedroom behind closed doors.” Morcover, narrators may claim to build their accounts on source material and may be con- sciously precise or vague in naming them.® ‘They may or may not juggle with multiple possibilities (Pitcher), weigh conflicting pieces of evidence (Power) and signal borderlines between mere registration of observable facts or events and personal interpretation, for example through (more ar less explicit) indications that they are making conjectures ot reasoning from probability. ‘And of coutse, biographers can also consciously sransgress such bor- derlines or play with them in various ways, which often results in pro- found ambiguity. ‘The Greck translation of Jerome’s Life of Malchus, as Gray points out, foregrounds the holy authority of the Scripture by delib- erately suppressing the reality effects and factual derail so carefully staged + See Hiigg (sora: 26, 35-96, 93) on this apparatus as eatly as Hellenistic biography and specie tnampks, See ako Stadter (1988), Pelling (2o0ab: 268-270), Bowie (no08 154-156) and Duff {cooks 188) (all on Plutarch), Sce Morgan (193) on similar strategies im ancienc fetion and Cohn (ig8o: 10) and Genente (199: 77) for theoretical consideration See, for example, Turner (2012: 25-74) on such claims in various hagiographical writings, Te toes Isocmntes in Eongoras 21, for example, where he claims ro adduce such knowledge, rather than rumouts, on the hero’ birth in order to avoid fictionalizing (wAoosuev0s) >» Seb alo Pelling ig88b: 36): ‘Very often cellinga story in te best way i the same as elling it with the mose plausible detail: ... ir must have been teue” © See, for example, Plutarch’ common ‘itis said...” (Aéyerai). 4 See Cahn (i989: 9-10; 1999: 26-29) from a theorctical point of view.Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 17 in other biographies and, indeed, in its Latin original, thus adding an additional layer of fictionalization (or in this case, ‘mythification’) to an already fictionalized account. Ambiguity is further enhanced, in both the Latin original and its translation, by sopoi from the realm of purely fictional narrative: the typically novelistic emphasis on ‘marriage’ as the happy-ever-after conclusion, for example, is drastically reshaped in the Life. Similar reworkings and inversions of topical narrative material, but in the opposite direction, are observed by Pitcher, who points out that the multiple possibilities abour Homer's birthplace are a. biographical ‘opos picked up in Heliodorus’ novel only to be distorted by Calasitis, One other area, no less novelistic, where authentication and transgression become particularly ambiguous is the tradition of wonder-workers: the Life of Apollonius, the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospels, for example, deploy the usual repertoire of authentication strategies but at the same time famously stage fantastic elements and miracles. Konstan and Walsh discuss how the Gospels and Acts may profitably be viewed as instances of a broader current in ancient biography that they label ‘subversive’ (as opposed to ‘civic’ — sce below), while Robiano, from a different angle, highlights a highly ambivalent play with authentication strategies and fic- tionalization in Philostratus’ Life of the famous wonder-worker, Representation of the unknown ‘The above-mentioned strategies are, of course, particularly significant whenever biographers convey information not straightforwardly accessible to them. One area where this is the case (and one particularly prominent in biography) is thought representation. Narrators represent biographees’ thought worlds in varying degrees of detail, But, as has been noted bya number of scholars, any unmediated access to and omniscience about characters’ inner thoughts and intimate subjective experiences is only pos- sible in fiction. Cohn (1999; 24-25) aptly points out that this possibil- ity may be reflected in actual (English) discourse by distinctive linguistic Practice. A sentence like ‘Now was his last chance to see her; his plane left tomorrow’, for example, is perfectly acceptable in a work of fiction but would be inappropriate in, say, a serious historiographical work. What it © On the atabiguities generated by miracles (in hagiography in general), see ‘Turner (2012: 55-61); on ., {he Acts in particular, see Reimer (2002). ” Firstly by Hambarger (1957: 27-72) but mest exteasively and insightfully by Cohn (1990: 784-791: 1999: 18-37).18 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN does, as the collocation of past tenses with adverbs signifying the present snd the future indicates, is slip into the mind of a character to present events from his point of view — a narrative strategy labelled as free indirect discourse, internal focalization or personal focalization.“* Non-fictional discourse, on the other hand, cannot simply present past events through the eyes of a historical figure present on the scene, ‘but only through the eyes of the forever backward-looking historian-narrator’. ‘Other devices that have been identified in modern fiction as conducive to such internal focalization are interior monologue and the use of verbs conveying, mental processes, emotions and inner experience. In ancient nartative, some of these are not readily present. Both interior monologue vind free inditect speech, for example, are more or less absent in ancient hartative.? But no classicist today would be willing to reiterate Genette’s (199%: 77) generalizations about internal focalization as if it were almost. absent in ancient narrative (‘surtout moderne’, Genette 1991: 92). OF course, verbs conveying mental activity, emotions and inner experience ‘lo exist and in any case the underlying phenomenon (psychic omnis- lence) has in fact been observed not only in narratives commonly recog: nized as ‘pure’ fiction, such as ancient novels,“ but also in biographies as diverse as Xenophon’s Gyropaedia, Life of Aesop and Alexander Romance. If Plutarch, as De Poureq and Roskam point out, at times looks from the perspective of his characters, this has potentially fictionalizing impli- cations: how does he know how these characters view reality? Similarly, the well-known topos of mixed feelings appears in fiction and biography alike’ and insights into agents’ decision-making and motivation are often an elementary means of psychological characterization in biography and historiography no less than in fiction.” In addition to thought representation, other narrative areas that often proved heuristically problematic ro any ancient biographer are the top- ical episodes of birth/origin and childhood. A number of chapeers in this book discuss different responses by different biographers. Power, for 6 Sc, for example, Genett (1969: 1911972: 206-211) and Bal (2009: 6-9, 145-165), Like Tfamburger seer eon Clenetie. (1990: 761-768 1991: 76) identifies such direct access 0 the subjectivity of characters as a marker of fictionalization. & Colin (1990: 786). See also Cohn (199: % See, for example, Genette (1990: 761-7 & See, for exarnple, Laird (2008: 202, 205). See Hodkinson (2010: 18) and De Temmerman (2014 179-181) © See Hodkinson (2010: 2-32). > See, for example, Hiigg (20122: 203-204) on this par in Nicolaus of Dansascus' Lif of dugustes 54 ‘aswell as in Chariton’s novel See, for example, Montgomery (1965) and Hi (20128: 40 n. 88, 190)Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 19 example, shows that Suetonius in his Mustrious Men provides details on Horace’s origin and parentage that may very well be deemed ‘factually incorrect’ or ‘unreliable’ in a literal sense, but nevertheless communicate some important truths about the poet's /iterary parentage and interact with the narrator's self-presentation. A somewhat more typical reaction of biographers to problems of carly life representation, as scholars have observed, is the use of fictive anecdotes introduced to compensate for a dearth of source material.” The use of anecdotes (chriae) is, of course, a classic technique in ancient biography more generally and is ofien par- ticularly geared towards the depiction of character — a function put to interesting usc by Lucian in his Life of Demonax, as Beck points out, But when documenting childhood episodes, such anecdotes often result from what Pelling (2002c; 154) has eloquently identified as ‘creative reconstruc- tion’; characteristics or modes of behaviour associated with biographees during their adult lives are retrojected into their past. Lucian, for example, uses known adult behaviour to portray the young Demonax (Beck) and Sulpicius Severus depicts St Martin as already imitating and emulating Christ even as a child (Pract). A number of chapters in this book also explore the ends of lives as important places for fictionalization, Death scenes tend to be stock ingre- dicnts in any complete biography’ but they are often surrounded with heutistic inaccessibility no less than birth or childhood episodes. Cohn (1999: 21-23) is quite right w adduce the impossibility of representing a character's final thoughts as emblematic of the heuristic limitations inher- ent to biographical narration. Moreover, other elements surrounding death scenes, such are their precise circumstances, events leading up to them, the (crucial) presence of witnesses and famous last words, are often equally clusive for later biographers. And of course, the elusiveness sur- rounding death scenes is taken to extremes if biographees have not died natural deaths, as Ash highlights in her chapter on Suetonian assassination scenes. Finally, the fact that ancient biographers in their narration of death scenes haye a tendency to use Plato's famous depiction of Socrates’ final hours as a basis for literary modelling” further adds to the fictionalizing See most notably, Felling (2002e: 301-307) on ancient biography in general and Hig Gora: 17-18) on Cyrus’ childhood in the Anabasis in particular. On bridging (temporal) gaps in biographical material, see Kendall (1985: 18-21). * Wag (orza: 36, 56. 176) gives other examples of this technique (in Isocrates! Fingoras 22-3, Xenophon's Cyrapaedia 1.2.1-2 and bitth and infancy gospels) See Hiigg (sotza: 87) * RL Phd n6a-a8a. See Kechagia (this volume), with references. On Xenophon giving Cyrus a Socratic death in the Cjyropaedia (unlike Herodotus, who has him die on the bactleleld), see Hig Gorse: 64).20 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN potential of such episodes. (On literary modelling and fictionalization, see pp. 22-25 below.) Kechagia confronts a number of dhese issues in Diogenes Laertius, who has tended to miss out in the general renaissance of interest in biography.” This author, she demonstrates, is careful to create the illusion of authen- ticity (for example, by avoiding the psychic omniscience on which Cohn focuses) but at the sume time fills gaps in factual knowledge about the deaths of Zeno and Epicurus by introducing anecdotes shaped by various elements taken from their respective philosophical doctrines ~ another example of creative reconstruction, but one which projects rather than ret- rojects important aspects about the philosophers lives. She thus discusses good examples of how chria (anecdote) for Diogenes Laertius functions as a technique to construct philosophically ‘integrated’ characters (to use a term coined by Pelling 2002d: 288-291) and she thereby indicates that a vetrcter in ancient narrative usually consists of strands broadly conver: ging rather than a collection of idiosyncratic quirks. ‘Together with Beck’s chapter on Lucian, moreover her discussion neatly illustrates some of the different ways in which anecdotes are used to shape characters: whereas Lucian primarily uses them to shape aspects of what Gill (1983: 470-4735 1986; 1990: 4~5) has famously coined as ‘personality’ (such as wit and humour), Diogenes Laertius uses them to convey his philosophers moral, philosophical outlook (thus equating more to Gill’s concept of ‘character’, P hich in Lucian’ Life of Demonax is constructed primarily through the use of the Socratic paradigm). Metaphorical characterization and intertextuality ‘There is another area of fictionalization which is situated on a different level altogether, It involves a number of narrative vechniques for which I suggest the umbrella term ‘metaphorical’. These techniques have in common that they all create meaning through (often implicit) associ- ation and/or dissociation, through similarity and/or contrast.” As a aeenber of chapters in this book illustrate, such connections often imply suthor, see Guijarto (2009: 96-103). 7 [here use ‘metaphor’ in is tra ancient shetorical sense of @ trope opposed co metonymy. TA che short form of comparison, metaphor replaces a crm (verbum proprivon) toy another cer 0 the basis of similarity (Lausberg 1998: $9558, 846) whereas metonytny replaces a term by another tee coniguously related (0 it. Jakobson (3972 is Foundational on these ope! tt of literary txpression. Even If deconstructivist and cognitive linguistic approaches have dorie much to demol- Tak che opposition between metaphor and metonymy in other contexts (see Steen 2005: 307-308 foran overview), the distinetion remains useful for eur purposesAncient biography and formalities of fiction 2 fictionalization.’* One area where such techniques are operative is, again, that of characterization. Characters are depicted nov only by whar they do, say or think but also by implicit or explicit associations with and dissociations from other figures: literary, mythological or histor- ical paradigms.” Such associations are omnipresent in the ancient biographical genre. They act as markers of fictionalization: in the Life of Aesop, for example, the alignment between the biographee and Thersites, the ugliest of all Hiadic characters," does not simply ‘exist’ in extra-literary, factual reality but is constructed by the narrator and thus confronts readers with the artificial character of what they are reading. In this specific sense, associations of characters with paradigms almost by definition deviate from factual truth representation and can there. fore be labelled instances of fictionalization.®* ‘Things are different, of course, in cases of seffmodelling, which are presented by the narrator as constituting a strategy of the biographee him/herself and, thus, as being part of the narrative universe: Lucian’s Demonax, for example, consciously aligns himself with Socrates (Beck),** Philostratus’ Apollonius casts himself as Apollo (Robiano) and, most famously, Christian saints and martyrs live in accordance with the example of Christ (Praet, Gray). Metaphorical characterization often works through intertextual allu- sions. In literary theory, the literary impositions generated by intertextual associations have rightly been discussed as markers of fictionalization.* ‘This is not to say, of course, that only fictional narrative adopts inter- textualitys rather, the point is thar, in non-fictional narrative, intertext- ual references inevitably work towards creating a literary construct that goes beyond factual representation of the historical persons or events ** On the importance of metonymical and metaphorical representation as fctional markers, see Ron (1981), Yacobi (2000) and Pavel (2000). 7 On sich metaphorical (as opposed t© metonymicil) characterization, see De ‘Temmerman Goro: 32). " See, for example, Bowie (2006) on sophists associated with epic heroes in Philostratus’ ¥S, Moles (2006) o1 a Cynic model underlying the Gospels, Figg (2or24: 249) on comparisons of characters with historical figures as one of Plutuch's favoured methods, and Higg (20122: 33) on Isocrates! qPilicit comment about a number of mythological figutes as moral paradigms See Higg (2or2a: 102-103) on this association, © On purely fi and its techniques drawing the reader's attention to literariness (as Posed to veracity and versimiliuuds), see also Motgan (1993: 215-224). uumnee (2012) explores at length different ways in which such self-modelling (of saints) essentially impacts relations between narrative, tuthfulnese and reality, *' See also Griffin (986a: 66) on another philosopher (Seneca) consciously mirroring his own death and that of Socrates. ” Genette (1982: 8-9) and, on intertextual referents, Margolin (1996: 15-127), »22 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN documented in the narrative." In this book, a number of chapters look Fe eal ar how this might work. A paradigm particularly prominent in the biogtaphical tradition on philosophers is that of Socrates ¢s depicted in the Socratic writings. ‘This is illustrated by Beck (who pays particular attention to the fictionalizing impact of the Socratic paradigm underlying Lucian’s depiction of Demonax’ character) and Robiano (who shows how Platonie intertextuality aligas Apollonius with Socrates and fictionalizes Philostratus’ accouns).”” ‘Their contributions raise important suggestions abour the importance of Socrates as the archetypical philosopher (rather spon instituting a particular ‘schoo!), which, in turn, fesonares with Kechagias chaprer, where the questions are raised of how far philosophers are individualized in terms of doctrine rather chan bundled together as a single type, and whether ‘how co live philosophically’ really involved much differentiation among the different schools. Similar questions about individualization and alignment with an arche- typical paradigm are raised by Praet, who demonstrates that Sulpicius Severus inscribes himself in an important tradition of early Christian life-writing by aligning St Martin with Christ through instances of bib- lical stylization resonating mainly with the Gospels,” Christy, for his part, argues for Plucarchan intertextuality through which the letters of Chion aim to align their purported writer with famous tyrant-fighters (one of whom, Brutus, lived centuries later than Chion). And De Pourcq sore oskam ceplore how some of Plutarchis heroes are ‘mythified’ a pro- cess comparable to (but constructed differently from) the instances of inythification to which the Greek version of Jerome's Malchus (Gray) is subjected. Literary modelling Important as characterization may be in ancient biography, it is by no vcore the only area in which dynamics of association and dissociation mre operative. While Socrates functions as a paradigm for a number of biographees, the Socratic writings also function as models that provide See alko Searle (igg9: 76-326) on the fctionaliaion implied in Ggurative speech (involving metaphor) metaphor) asa foundational paradigm in anckene biography, see Dible (2956), Hiigg (2012: 1 19.30. 290, 331,387), Knbl (2010) and Miles (2010), Bot ues gc also several papers in Barnes and Griffin (1997; 1999) Peet thus refites Stancliffe (1983: 315), who emphasizes that many ‘of Martin’s actions lack inter- ea ov (and therefore must have realy happened). On the Gospels themselves as biograph- ra nave, sce Buridge (2004; 2006) and Konstan and Walsh in his volumeAncient biography and formalities of fiction 23 biographical accounts with additional meaning for specific purposes. As Christy demonstrates, for example, the anonymous writer of the letters of Chion consciously deviates from Platonic philosophy to advertise his own account as an ideological criticism (and, to some extent, inversion) of Plato’s views on tyranny. A number of chapters explore the connection between such modelling and fictionalization. Power, for example, draws attention to the ambiguity surrounding poetical quotations in Suetonius’ Illustrious Men, where they are arguably staged as markers of (the illusion of) verisimilitude but at the same time inevitably draw the account into the realm of fiction, And Kechagia points out thar philosophers’ death scenes in Diogenes Laertius are modelled not only on that of their most important literary predecessor (Socrates’ death scene in Plato) but also on the philosophers’ own doctrines, Such literary modelling is an important marker of fictionalization because it subordinates historical sensitivity to a tendency to follow char- acteristics and exigencies of literary models or (sub-)genres, It is well known, as Gray remarks, that many Christian Lives are radically modelled on Athanasius’ Life of Anthony, but Konstan and Walsh draw attention to two Xenophontic models (Agesilaus and Memorabilia) that seem just as much to shape distinctive biographical traditions: the ‘civie’ and the ‘sul- versive’.” OF course, it is important not to conceptualize these traditions as strictly separated categories, Indeed, they may very well blend into each other in individual texts. As Beck points out, for example, the Agesilaus is a model underlying Lucian’s Life of Demonax even if some of the philoso- pher’s wit locates him in the tradition that Konstan and Walsh trace back to the Memorabilia.” Rather than formulating a ‘history’ of the genre,?* therefore, we are concerned with the fictionalizing impact of literary mod- els: Konstan and Walsh point out that important narrative aspects such as chronology, character depiction and use of (childhood) anecdotes are all shaped to some extent by different needs in specific sub-genres rather than by concerns for factual representation of historical truth. Likewise, De Pourcq and Roskam suggest that Plutarch models his Lives of Agis, Cleomenes and Gaius and Tiberius Gracchus on a single actantial deep structure, This means nor only thar some of the actions and behaviour ™ Recently, Hig (2o12a: 10, 34, 42-66) has also singled out Xenophon’s Gyropaedia and Isocrates’ Puegorae as litcrary models for (apeeific aspects of) futuse life-writing, * Sce also Hiigg (20122: 296) on Demonax’ wit. On Memorabilia as the ftse ‘deliberate biography’, see abo Gosse (1910: 953). * On literary gene as not simply having a history of its own, sce Steidle’s (1963) critique on Leo (1901), who also distinguishes ewo broad types of ancient biography.24 KOEN DE TEMMERMAN of these heroes are, at least to some extent, the result of exigencies of the underlying structure but also thar such moulding allows, if not invites, their depiction in terms of mythological heroes. ‘The metaphorical techniques of representation discussed to this point generally operate through intertextual allusion, But of course, intra- textual play is just as important, Within Philostratus’ Vita Apollonii, Robiano unearths a network of intratextual echoes that invite us to read Apollonius’ famous apology as a mise-en-abyme for the overarching narra- tive. Comparably, Christy points to intracextal patterning that shapes the narrative in several of the letters of Chion. But of course it is in the collec- tive biographies that intratextual modelling becomes particularly relevant. What are the implications of recurrent sets of features in such a group of biographies And, consequently, to what extent is each new philosopher, sophist or emperor @ development and refinement of a type or a more-of- less individualized construction2? Plutarch, for example, has a tendency to emphasize moral excellence ¢ contrario, and, as De Poureq and Roskam: indicate, this technique may cause him to reshape details in support of what contrast demands, or it may necessitate that he omits complexities ane vould make an opposition confusing of less lear (‘reductive jux- taposition). In some collective biographies, intratextual patterning, also allows influences or developments (© be detected from earlier lives in later ones. This dynamic is particularly clear, as ‘Ash demonstrates, in Suetonian assassination scenes, where later nartative accounts appear to be influenced more by earlier accounts than by the event itself* Such “elf-imitation’ is also observed by Burgersdijke in che Historia Augusta, where narrative material from the lives of emperors is recycled in that of co-emperors. ‘This metaphorical (incratextual as well as intertextual) patterning often sits paradoxically alongside efforts to create yerisimili- tude, Ash points out that Suetonius is careful to deploy a wide-ranging toolkit of devices to enhance credibility and create the illusion of verisi- militude (ranging from exact registration of factual details such as num- bers, times and dates, naming of even minor characters and imaginative use of realistic detail ro explicit presentation of his version as reliable and acknowledgement of alternative versions). However, Suetonius also allows © On orgenizational principles ofcollecive biography, sce Adams (2013: 109-118) 4 See, for example, Bowis (2006) on how Philostracus’ Heraicus implies a sort of biographical ‘por trait gallery form’ in ies depiction of Gree, and ‘Trojan heroes. oy Orgne such instance in particular, see also Teg (qor2a: 222). On self-imitation (in historioge raphy) as raising, sues of fictionality, see Woodman (ag79 = 1998: 70-85). 16 Oy his technique to cteate the illusion of veracity in ancient ‘etion, see Morgan (1993: 199-209-Ancient biography and formalities of fiction 25 metaphorical patterning that highlights che fictionality of his account: he imitates earlier scenes, uses typical structures to narrate different assassina- tions, associates events to those in Tacitus and tragedy, and (implicitly) compares events with other possible outcomes through the introduction of counterfactual elements. ‘This book, then, aims to illustrate che complexity and versatility of fic- Gonalization in ancient biographical narrative. It does not seek to posit firm rules or categories applicable to biographies in general. Such attempts would risk reducing the valuable question of how biographies exploit his- toriographical, novelistic or other narrative tropes to that of whether they are true or false, Biographical writing raises complex issues of narrativity and fictionalization and the best response, we suggest, is not to simplify the issue. The discussion of formal markers of fictionalization in this and other chapters is not to be understood as part of an effort to establish cri- teria by which one biography can be judged as historically true — or truer than another. Rather, it is part of an effort to explore and describe the complexity more carefully than before.