The Spectator's policy of password-protecting articles is rather frustrating. This week, the ever-erudite Peter Jones stars in its series "In the chair", answering questions sent in by readers. Here is a selection:
Q. Why did Sulla retire from the dictatorship in 79BC?
Emma Lockwood, puzzled undergraduate
A. Ah! Why indeed. Political leaders never give up power willingly, as we know all too well (most of the emperors died or were assassinated in office, I think: not Diocletian, who abdicated to tend his cabbages, as I remember) but Sulla is the exception that proves the rule. And despite his infamous proscriptions and slaughter of opponents, he ended his days peacefully in Puteoli hunting, fishing and drinking with his chums from the theatre. In a sense, the question may be the wrong way round: better to ask why politicians hang on to power so grimly when it is obvious to all and sundry that their time has gone? Perhaps Sulla was the only sane man in Rome: he realised he had done all he could to try to restore power to where he thought it belonged (away from dynasts and tribunes and back to the Senate), and that was that. Further, he did in fact believe an ancient prophecy that he did not have long to live. That perhaps concentrated his mind. Julius Caesar, of course, accused him of political illiteracy...
Q. (a) Which successful ruler of ancient times would our present/would-be leaders be well advised to emulate?
(b) Who does Mr Blair most resemble?
K-L H E Noll
A. (a) Sulla! (see above).
(b) I shall have to think about this, but Nero rather appeals: started so well, ended so disastrously.
Q. Paul Johnson recently wrote that Gladstone made a habit of reading some Homer and a passage from the Bible in Greek every day. Do you also regard Homer as a staple and what is your own daily classical routine?
W. Smith, Oxon
A. I certainly regard Homer as a staple, since he is my favourite ancient author. I have no daily routine. It depends what I am working on. At the moment I am revising an ancient Greek course I helped write nearly 30 years ago (Reading Greek, CUP) so am thinking hard about explaining tricky linguistic concepts to pupils who will probably know nothing about grammar at all. I am writing a lecture on Ovid's Metamorphoses, wondering in what sense it is an 'epic'. Next week I shall be taking a class reading Odyssey 21 and 22 at the Durham Summer School. Then I shall read Aeschylus' Persians in preparation for a performance at New College Oxford (July 27-9). The week after that I shall be talking to a men's club in Tynemouth (I live in Newcastle) about the explosion of Vesuvius; and shortly after that lecturing on a Swan Hellenic cruise from Livorno to Venice. What could possibly be more agreeable than to spend every day writing and thinking about ancient languages and the ancient world? I really do think pleasure is the most useful thing in the world.
Q. Charles Clarke reckoned that this country would be a better place if study of Latin and Greek were to disappear completely. He then became Education Minister. Do you think this was the nadir, or will classicists have to go on making excuses for themselves in the 'modern' Britain of tomorrow?
Peter Lampton
A. That response was typical of people like Clarke who see education in Stalinist terms, as a service to the state not the individual.