Callimachus of Cyrene was a poet and scholar who worked at Alexandria, the Greek capital of Ptolemaic Egypt, in the third century BC.1 A Byzantine encyclopaedia, the Suda, credits him with «ὑπὲρ τὰ ὀκτακοϲία», “more than eight hundred” books (our translation), in a great many forms.1,2 Six hymns and about sixty short poems came down to us whole; the rest is pieced together from quotations and from scraps of papyrus.1,3 Susan Stephens calls him the most influential poet of his age, and the Roman poets took him as one of their chief models.1,3
A Cyrenean at Alexandria
Most of what we know of his life comes from one entry, not free of mistakes, in the Suda, a Byzantine encyclopaedia of the tenth century.1 It calls him «υἱὸϲ Βάττου καὶ Μεϲάτμαϲ, Κυρηναῖοϲ, γραμματικόϲ», “son of Battus and Mesatma, of Cyrene, a scholar” (our translation), and says that before he was introduced to King Ptolemy II he taught school at Eleusis, a village on the edge of Alexandria, and that he lived on into the reign of Ptolemy III.2,4 The geographer Strabo names him among the famous men of Cyrene, “a poet who was also devoted to scholarship” (our translation).5 In his poems he calls himself Battiades, “son of Battus”, which may point to his father or to Battus, the founder of Cyrene, from whom he claimed descent.1,4
Debated among scholars Even his dates are uncertain. A. W. Mair, his Loeb translator, put his birth about 310 BC and his death about 235; Susan Stephens puts his birth about 305 and, judging from the subjects of his poems, his death some time after 240.1,3,4 The story of the poor schoolmaster has been doubted too: Alan Cameron called it “almost certainly outright fiction”.1
A catalogue of Greek literature
The Suda also lists his «Πίνακεϲ τῶν ἐν πάϲῃ παιδείᾳ διαλαμψάντων, καὶ ὧν ϲυνέγραψαν», “Tables of those who were eminent in every branch of learning, and of what they wrote” (our translation), in 120 books.2 Pinakes means “tablets”.1,6 Working from the shelf-lists of the Library of Alexandria, Callimachus sorted Greek writers into poetry and prose and smaller classes, and listed them alphabetically, each with a short life and a list of works, every work identified by its opening words; the classicist Lionel Casson called it the first comprehensive guide to Greek literature.1,3 It is lost.1
Debated among scholars Many older books made him head of the Library, after Zenodotus; Mair warned in 1921 that this was not an established fact,4 and Stephens now says plainly that he never held the post: Apollonius of Rhodes followed Zenodotus.3,6
What survives
The six hymns are to Zeus, Apollo, Artemis, the island of Delos, Athena (The Bath of Pallas) and Demeter; three of them are written as if a festival were happening before the reader's eyes.1 The fifth and sixth are in the Doric dialect, and the fifth alone uses the metre of elegy instead of the epic line.4 The epigrams survive mostly in the Palatine Anthology, a tenth-century manuscript found at Heidelberg in 1606.1
His most admired work, the Aetia (“Causes”), told in four books of elegiac verse why odd rituals and objects were as they are: why, for instance, the people of Lindos hurl abuse at Heracles when they sacrifice to him.7,8 After a prologue (see below) comes a dream in which the young poet is carried to Mount Helicon and questions the Muses, an echo of Hesiod.7,9 The last two books were framed by poems for Queen Berenice II, ending with The Lock of Berenice, in which the lock of hair she dedicated for her husband Ptolemy III's safe return from war becomes a constellation.7,8
There were also thirteen Iambi, in the old, aggressive tradition of iambic verse,1 and the Hecale, a poem of about a thousand lines.3,10 In it the hero Theseus, on his way to fight the bull of Marathon, shelters in the hut of a poor old woman, Hecale; when he comes back she is dead, and he names a village after her and founds a shrine of Zeus in her honour.10 Travellers honoured her, says one fragment, «ἔχε γὰρ τέγος ἀκλήιστον», “for she kept an unbarred house” (Mair's translation).4,11
Small, fine and new
At the head of the Aetia Callimachus answers his critics, whom he calls Telchines, after the sorcerers of myth: they grumble that he has never finished one continuous song of many thousands of lines about kings and heroes.12 Whether they were real people is not known.12 He tells them to judge poetry by its art, not its length: “thundering is not my job, it is Zeus's” (our translation).12 When he first put a writing tablet on his knees, he says, Apollo told him to fatten the sacrifice as fat as he could but to keep his Muse leptaleēn, slender, and to drive not on the wide road but on untrodden tracks, even if narrower.12 Liddell and Scott's great dictionary gives λεπταλέος as “fine, delicate”, citing this very line;13 the same word describes the delicate sound of panpipes in his Hymn to Artemis: «λεπταλέον σύριγγες».14
One epigram says it more sharply: «ἐχθαίρω τὸ ποίημα τὸ κυκλικόν», in Mair's English “I hate the cyclic poem”, and a few lines on, “I loathe all common things”.4,15 So does the end of the Hymn to Apollo.4,16 Envy whispers to the god «οὐκ ἄγαμαι τὸν ἀοιδὸν ὃς οὐδʼ ὅσα πόντος ἀείδει», “I do not admire the singer who does not sing as much as the sea” (our translation).16 Apollo kicks Envy away: “Great is the stream of the Assyrian river, but much filth of earth and much refuse it carries on its waters”, while the Bees, Demeter's priestesses, bring her only water from a holy spring, “pure and undefiled, the very crown of waters” (Mair's translation).4,16 An ancient note says these lines answer critics who mocked him for being unable to write a long poem, and that this drove him to write the Hecale;17 Cameron thought the note of little authority.1
The writer Athenaeus reports that «Καλλίμαχος ὁ γραμματικὸς τὸ μέγα βιβλίον ἴσον ἔλεγεν εἶναι τῷ μεγάλῳ κακῷ», in C. D. Yonge's translation “CALLIMACHUS the grammarian said that a great book was equivalent to a great evil”; Mair put it more crisply, “a big book is a big evil”.4,18
Debated among scholars Mair also noted a more modest modern explanation: that the saying may refer only to papyrus rolls of inconvenient size.4
Reading him
His Greek is learned, but it can also be witty.1 The Hymn to Zeus weighs whether the god was born in Crete or in Arcadia, and settles it with «Κρῆτες ἀεὶ ψεῦσται», “Cretans are ever liars” (Mair): after all, the Cretans built a tomb for Zeus, and Zeus never died.4,19 The same three words open a line quoted in the New Testament letter to Titus, “Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, and idle gluttons”; Mair notes that the saying was attributed to Epimenides.4,20
One epigram mourns a friend, the poet Heraclitus of Halicarnassus. It begins «εἶπέ τις Ἡράκλειτε τεὸν μόρον», “someone told me, Heraclitus, of your death” (our translation), and ends in comfort: «αἱ δὲ τεαὶ ζώουσιν ἀηδόνες», “but your nightingales live on” (our translation), and Hades, who snatches everything, will not lay a hand on them.4,21 In 1858 William Johnson (later William Cory) put it into English in his Ionica: “They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead”.4,22
Quarrels, real and imagined
Debated among scholars The Suda says that his lost poem Ibis was «ποίημα ἐπιτετηδευμένον εἰϲ ἀϲάφειαν καὶ λοιδορίαν», “a poem worked up to be obscure and abusive” (our translation), against Apollonius, the author of the Argonautica.2 An epigram under the name of “Apollonius the grammarian” hits back: «Καλλίμαχος τὸ κάθαρμα, τὸ παίγνιον, ὁ ξύλινος νοῦς», “Callimachus the scum, the plaything, the wooden brain” (our translation).23,24 Mair, in 1921, told of a bitter feud that drove Apollonius from Alexandria to Rhodes.4 Most scholars now think the feud has been greatly exaggerated, if it happened at all: the evidence is slight, the ancient lives of Apollonius stress the two poets' friendship, and the epigram may not be by Apollonius of Rhodes.24
Why he matters
The Roman poets read him closely.1 Catullus sent a friend “haec expressa tibi carmina Battiadae”, “these songs of Battiades, put into Latin for you” (our translation); his poem 66 is a Latin version of The Lock of Berenice.7,25 Propertius called Umbria “Romani patria Callimachi”, the homeland of the Roman Callimachus, meaning himself.1,26 Ovid judged that Battiades would be sung all over the world for ever: not strong in genius, but strong in art.1,27 Through Catullus the Lock reached Alexander Pope, whose The Rape of the Lock (1712) it inspired.7 Kathryn Gutzwiller sums him up: he “reinvented Greek poetry for the Hellenistic age by devising a personal style that came, through its manifestations in Roman poetry, to influence the entire tradition of modern literature”.1