"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Friday, July 10, 2026
Snivelling Metaphysician
C.S. Lewis, letter to his father (December 4,1915):
There is also a 'Greek Literature' by Gilbert Murray, the bad verse-translator, which I have read with dire anger, as he degrades Homer from a poet
into a 'question' and prefers that snivelling metaphysician Euripides to Aeschylus.