One influential school of positivistically minded critics sees the Hymns as set somewhat apart from the remainder of Callimachus' oeuvre by virtue of their being hymns. For them these poems have a particular claim to visible links to the outside world, foremost religion and religious ceremony, but also to the royal courts of the time and the life of the historical Callimachus. These critics therefore tend to interpret the Hymns as poetry likely to have been performed in whatever manner is judged to be most appropriate, and there are a number of elaborate hypotheses, usually designed to fit particular poems. They also tend to read them as possessing a seriousness beyond that of Callimachus' works in other genres; though it is true that there have always been some who believe the Hymns to be humorous, if not totally irreligious poems [e.g. Dornseiff, Herter...].
On the other hand, there is an increasing number of scholars prepared to view the Hymns as ingenious attempts at exploring a traditional type of poetry, in a way fairly similar to his other poems. Cameron himself describes the Iambi ((163ff)), Hecale (444ff, 450), Ibis (384) and indeed the Aetia - as an elegiac catalogue poem (382) - in these terms; though he stresses the poems' links to generic traditions while playing down their innovative nature (145ff) [To him "crossing of genres" indeed almost seems to indicate insufficient knowledge on the part of the poet rather than deliberate artistic choice (146ff, 153)! Cf. against this Haslam (125).]. Much of recent criticism is indeed concerned with the ways in which generic conventions are taken to extremes, ironically twisted or fused with related traditions, and thus exploited to surprising effect by Hellenistic poets. At its best, this view of Callimachean poetry in particular renders critics wary of apparently obvious meanings, of taking everything seriously or at face value: instead special attention is paid to phrasing and structuring in the text, to what exactly is said, what is not, and how. Visible fault lines, deliberately revealing the mechanisms and strategies of composition, are seen to challenge readers to assume a particularly scrutinizing attitude towards the poems and their meanings [e.g. Haslam, Williams, Depew, Goldhill, Hutchinson...].
To return to Cameron, I want to look first at the question of performance; like Don Fowler in his paper I am concerned not so much with the subject as such, as with the critical strategies employed, though I will look at them from a practical rather than a theoretical point of view. It is characteristic that the critic singled out for discussion should be Legrand, who in 1901 took half a step towards viewing Callimachus' Hymns as skilful literary illusions, by showing how unlikely it was that the mimetic Hymns could ever have been intended for cultic performance; while yet suggesting performance opportunities for the remaining three (I, III, IV) (63). Cameron himself does not wish to revive arguments for performance during religious ritual, but he goes further than Legrand in arguing for the plausibility of some kind of more or less public reading. Suggesting that the three Hymns with what he sees as an "identifiable setting" (II, IV, V) might well have been performed, he thus reintroduces the mimetic Hymns to Apollo and to Athena into the argument (67). Yet the hypothesis of a number of different occasions for performance, be it after the ritual, at a festival, or even a symposion, breaks up the balance of the collection noted by Cameron; and to my mind the very diversity of the solutions favoured can in fact be considered as a weak rather than a strong point in this kind of argument [cf. my "Zulassungsarbeit" (Freiburg: 1994): political interpretations: H.I, II, IV; biographical H.III; cult-related H.II, IV, VI (5ff).].
This is most obvious in the case of the Hymn to Zeus which is taken to belong to a symposion, strangely separating it from the other Hymns. Cameron, like others before him, reads the very first lines as an indication of what for him needs be a performance context. He briefly quotes examples for the two readings, present versus imaginary symposion, noting that both scholars cited (Wilamowitz and McLennan) abstain from "comment or explanation" (95). Cameron's own argument in this book is unfortunately set out very much in an off-hand manner [His own reasoning unfortunately is not very different, relying very much on unproven assertions such as "the clearest case of all", "a well-documented rule", "it is no coincidence", and "it seems natural to infer" - cf. Lynn Fotheringham's paper at the Menagerie (One-day Conference, Oxford)! My own summary arguments in this short paper are of course easily deconstructed as well.]. The first lines of Callimachus' Hymn (1.1f), "Zenos eoi ti ken allo para spondesin aeidein /loion e theon auton", taken together with the fact that libations to Zeus were poured at symposia, for him apparently allow no other conclusion than that the poem was actually recited on such an occasion. To me this seems to be a non sequitur; I also believe that - influenced by the performance argument - he reads more into the text than appears justifiable [The intentional fallacy... (cf. the proposed piecemeal recitation of the Aetia at a symposion [103]).]. His rendering of lines 1f (95 again) introduces a subject into the sentence in the form of a first person plural, appropriating the song mentioned to it: "we are making libations..., what better subject for our song..." [One could also query the easy alignment of Zeus to libations, instead of taking it as a proleptic genitive of comparison, taken up by "e theon auton" in the next verse. For a warning against over-interpretation cf. Haslam (121f n.20).]. In the original the first person is only introduced in the third verse, where it is connected with the different traditions concerning Zeus' birth, and split immediately in a play with mythical variants and literary paradox - difficult to square with a simple reference to a group of symposiasts at Alexandria as suggested by Cameron [It is paradoxical, too, (in view of the Aetia prologue) that Cameron should use the comparative shortness of the Hymn as confirmation of a performance at a symposion, rather than viewing it in terms of poetic quality and deliberate choice.]. He, then, does not quite tackle the question of the fictionality of the Hymns as raised in studies of the subversion of traditional elements in Callimachean poetry. One important claim in favour of a symposiastic setting for the Hymn to Zeus, is indeed that it would provide one means of reconciling the performance argument with the modern view of the Hymns as not just fictional, but frequently frivolous (58, 64) [He does however seem to be concerned rather with the general observation made long before that Greek religion as such need not imply seriousness (the longer of the Homeric Hymns, and the curious lay of Aphrodite and Ares sung by Demodocus in the Odyssey are perfect examples for this) (23), than the more complex studies on the role of humour and fictionality (Goldhill, Haslam, Depew).]. This view, however, does not take into account that in recent studies the use Callimachus makes of humour and irony is often connected to the view of the Hymns as illusions (cf. Williams). For humour in the poems is now seen not as disturbing "serious" references to reality, but more productively in literary terms, as an ironic or hyperbolic pointer to the tradition, within which the poem is situated [Humour also includes hyperbole, naivete; e.g. Williams on the umbilical cord (219), Haslam on the lottery (116 n.9), Luddecke (passim).].
Cameron's view of the Hymn to Zeus as belonging to a real symposion is meant to be rendered more persuasive by following on a series of arguments concerning symposia and poetry (iii.4). One of his last examples is Propertius 4.6 with its closing exhortation to sing of other of Augustus' victories besides Actium (94f). Cameron does not commit himself whether one should accept Cairns' argument for actual performance or not, but goes on to conclude that Propertius "must at any rate have had in mind some Hellenistic poem that envisaged such a context" (95). Yet despite this piece of scepticism on behalf of the Roman poet, and the brief reference to an "envisaged" performance context, he does not go on to consider whether Callimachus, too, could possibly have intended a symposiastic context in purely literary terms, be it for Iamb 15 (which he mentions) or the Hymn to Zeus. I believe that Cameron's reliance on postulated parallels to other writers and different periods rather than on detailed interpretation of the poems as a whole is problematic. A comparativistic approach can of course be extremely helpful, the difficulty being to decide when exactly the circumstances, which are supposed to be parallel, do in fact warrant this supposition. It is here that Cameron is not always quite as cautious as one would wish. Another example is Horace's Carmen Saeculare which is mentioned as a later parallel for a performance of a poem imagining ceremonies outside strict ritual (65f) [On the strength of ILS 5050.147-9 and Fraenkel's argument.]. Cameron asks: if Augustus wanted poets to contribute to his public festivals, why should the Ptolemies not have done the same (66)? Yet in an earlier chapter he himself has noted the difference between the position of poets in early imperialistic Rome and early Hellenistic Alexandria: "Actually there is nothing in Callimachus to match the flattery Augustus elicited from his poets..." (11) [It is also by no means clear how this fits in with the view expounded in the first chapter, picturing Callimachus as enjoying a rather independent relationship with his royal patron (23).].
With regard to the Hymn to Zeus, the positivistic instinct to connect all possible indicators of reference to the outside world leads Cameron not only to his performance argument, but also to suggest a first recital in the presence of Ptolemy Philadelphus (95 again). It is hard to tell what exactly is the "graceful [closing] tribute to Philadelphus" Cameron mentions - the last lines (1.91ff) are a farewell to Zeus and a prayer for wealth and excellence, though it is not said for whom. He may be misled somewhat by his own comparison of the Hymn with two of Theocritus' poems, the Heracliscus and the On Ptolemy (53ff); the latter in fact ending with "khaire Ptolemaie" (Id.17.135ff). Yet his reading of the Heracliscus as referring rather straightforwardly to Philadelphus as well as the proof for a performance in the form of a fragmentary note on a late papyrus, are (as far as I can see) doubtful in themselves. The On Ptolemy of course is explicitly encomiastic, and despite Cameron's attempts to make the most of the encomiastic passages there are in Callimachus (x.4-6, esp.280f, 295), his earlier insistence that he did not write any panegyric as such seems more to the point (12) [One only has to compare e.g. the descriptions of king's power in Theocritus Id.17.73-97 with names and all, with H.1.79-90 which are oblique and enigmatic. There does seem to be a difference, too, between normal encomion and e.g. the Victoria Berenices, which Cameron rightly sees as taking on the issue of praise of the Syrian War fought by Euergetes while yet evading it (476f).]; so that the parallels again appear questionable. There have, of course, been some who do see Ptolemy behind the farewell to Zeus on internal grounds: firstly because of a previous identification of Philadelphus with the god on account of the succession story (1.57-9), and second, because of the passage on a king's power which precedes the farewell (1.85-90). Cameron in fact subscribes to the first argument (10, also 58) [In characteristic fashion: "it is impossible to doubt the relevance of the curiously pointed development..." Cameron also asks why the poet should otherwise say so much on the subject of the accession at all - why not because of the diverging accounts of it in two of the most important Greek poets, Homer and Hesiod (see above), as Cameron himself notes?! I do of course accept that there may be a slight compliment to Philadelphus, too; maybe paid a while after the fact when the older brothers' grudges were not embarrassing or a threat any more.]. Yet the subject of succession to power is just one of many passages in the Hymn to Zeus, and its treatment (besides being heavily undermined through various lapses in logic, and humour [cf. Hopkinson, Goldhill, Haslam (116 n.9), Luddecke (forthcoming).]) is sufficiently justified in poetic terms by replying to the diverging accounts of Homer and Hesiod. Altogether, it is not quite convincing to base whole arguments for performance, and for a particular audience, too, on what seem to be rather hypothetical readings of certain isolated passages. Indeed, if Zeus as a (to us) patently fictional persona were not taken to be a double of Ptolemy, I would not be surprised if some critic would to ask us to believe him to have been present at the performance, too, since he is after all the main addressee of the poem!
Cameron's views are the more surprising, since he actually observes at one point that the ruler in question is never named or otherwise described more clearly in the poem, although - as he notes - "the implicit comparison of his accession to that of Zeus...opened up unlimited possibilities" (10, esp. 12 again). He does not pursue the argument in this direction, however, to examine for what reasons and to what effect the praise of royals is expressed as it is. Such an enquiry would appear even more worthwhile in the light of the very different treatment of royal praise in the Hymn to Delos, which Cameron tries to align with that of the Hymn to Zeus: "Ptolemy to be" (4.188) is openly identified by Apollo's explicit mention of his birth on Cos and the defeat of the Gauls at Delphi (4.160-90). It should be noted, however, that this praise is still expressed in a surprising manner, since Philadelphus himself had no part in the military victory (as Cameron remarks), and even less of course in his birth. The example of the Hymn to Delos suggests, then, that the unspecific and enigmatic mentions elsewhere are deliberate choices. Cameron also eventually identifies Magas and the Battiads in the Hymn to Apollo (2.26, 68), because of the easy alignment of the narrator of the story of Cyrene's foundation with Callimachus as a person (408f) [He dismisses the scholion's identification of the king as a Ptolemy. He becomes trapped in the authorial fallacy despite his sensible opposition to the identification of the poetic persona of a poor schoolmaster in some epigrams with the historical Callimachus (9).]. This double identification allows him to unify all potentially extra-textual references, facilitating the hypothesis of a simple Cyrenean setting, and - "the most natural interpretation" - a performance there (63 again). In my opinion a detailed analysis of the Hymn to Apollo in particular can show that Callimachus plays very much with the status and identification of the narrator(s): the speaking voice is made to seem to belong to variously defined groups - worshippers, choir, the many, Greeks, Cyrene and its kings, finally poets - while never allowing the reader to effectually pin it down [cf. my "Zulassungsarbeit" (Freiburg: 1994) (26-31, 47-52).]. To give one example, there is the repeated appeal to Apollo Carneius in the passage on Cyrene, which works against an autobiographical reading (2.72-87). For Fraser points out that the title Carneius is not in fact found in the city itself, but is used by Pindar in his own account of the foundation myth (I.654: Pyth.5.72-81). Again an allegedly factual reference can be shown to be more meaningful when seen in a literary context. This is the less surprising if we think of the emphasis on song and singing throughout the Hymn, and the famous epilogue on poetry in particular.
Cameron returns to a brief analysis of the narrator in the Hymns in his discussion of differences between elegiac and hexameter narrative (439f). I have to say that I find this argument rather strained, as the use of the narrator in the Hymn to Athena is aligned with that of the Aetia, and that of the other five Hymns with that of the Hecale. He attempts to see the "I" of the elegiac Hymn to Athena as expressing the persona of the poet qua poet, with the narrator self-consciously intruding into the story as in the elegiac Aetia; while the "I" in the hexameter Hymns is submerged in the crowd of undistinguished worshippers, effacing it in a quasi-epic manner. The argument here appears to be too sweeping to carry much conviction. In fact one might assume on the contrary that the handling of the narrator in the Hymns generally, is rather like that displayed in the Aetia; for in contrast to the Homeric Hymns Callimachus pushes the narrator from the frame into the body of the poem [As Cameron says of the Aetia (315f).]. It is in fact the elegiac Hymn to Athena that is most similar in structure to the Homeric Hymns in that the central narrative is told without the intrusion of the speaker, and thus the least like the similarly elegiac Aetia in mode of narration.
The same problem when it comes to detail appears in Cameron's views on the use made by Callimachus of aetiology (43f): he sees it as providing a connection to "real" towns and places with an important civic significance, and although he refers approvingly to the detailed research by Mary Depew in particular, there is I believe a lack of understanding concerning its full implications. She has shown how the poet turns it into a device of underlining the loss of a link to "reality", by charging aetiology with predominantly intertextual references (e.g. 59, 77). Cameron may well be right that the great interest in local history in Hellenistic times can be linked to aetiology's civic significance, but to apply this general phenomenon to Callimachean poetry without further investigation seems rather hasty [If not ill-judged.]. I do not wish to question that we may still be inclined to see subtle compliments to various real places and people in the Hymns, not in the simple way of performance or poetic competition as Cameron proposes, but through aetia of primarily literary import and literary allusion. This is the more likely if we agree with Cameron's own argument that papyri of even difficult poems, with elementary glosses and summaries, were widespread (56f).Welcome references to rulers, cities and their histories could have been made available to a wider audience by other means than the public readings so central to Cameron's view of the Hymns in particular.
In conclusion I would like to say that to me Cameron seems to try and reconcile modern views on the Hymns with old beliefs, which makes it difficult for him to fully appreciate some of recent research. Many of the problems in his treatment of the poems appear to result from his neglect of extensive analysis of the Hymns themselves, against which other poetry could then profitably be set. Cameron too often views the Hymns in the light of his general argument rather than on their own terms. This is unfortunate in that a comparativistic approach could be employed more often, especially with regard to the wealth of material brought into the discussion by Cameron himself. I therefore suggest that it would be welcome if, in consequence of a book so rich in comparative material, a more inclusive view of ancient poetry could be taken, in particular as concerns the question of genre. As a result critics might be readier to view other poets as possibly skilful and innovative, too, leaving Callimachus in a still outstanding, but much less isolated position [i.e. I believe we ought to turn around Cameron's argument, who tries to make Callimachus fit into the general picture, rather than to assimilate others to his standards where possible.].