Our sources for the life of Apollonius are few in number and of disputable value (Hunter 1989: 1-12; Rengakos 1992; Lefkowitz 2001). They provide us with ‘‘a labyrinth of self-contradictory statements’’ (Pfeiffer 1968: 141), but some details seem to emerge. He was probably from Alexandria, probably spent part of his life in Rhodes and, most importantly for the understanding of his literary career, was the Librarian of the great Library of Alexandria (on which institution see Fraser 1972:1, 312-19), between about 270 and 245 bce. It is during this period that he will have composed the Argo-nautica.
For a long time, one of the single most influential ‘‘facts’’ about Apollonius’ career (confusedly transmitted by the two Lives which accompany the manuscripts of the Argo-nautica) was that he quarreled with his former ‘‘teacher,’’ Callimachus, over the composition of his epic and went into exile in Rhodes, before eventually returning to Alexandria with a second, successful version of the poem. As a result of this story, Apollonius was identified as one of the Telchines attacked by Callimachus in the prologue
To his Aetia. This famous text (on which see Stephens and Acosta-Hughes 2002) is an important statement of poetic principle and is of vital importance for our understanding of the reception of Homeric and post-Homeric epic poetry in third-century Alexandria. It is therefore necessarily a passage of key importance for any attempt to understand the development of the epic tradition and the literary context in which Apollonius’ Argonau-tica was written (though for a very different view see Cameron 1995); but it should not be used to fill gaps in the life of Apollonius, and today, rightly, the biographical reconstruction of a bitter literary dispute between Apollonius, the archaizing epic poet, and Callimachus, the anti-epic modernist, is rejected by most scholars (Lefkowitz 2001; see, however, Green 1997a: 8-13, 1997b). Its origin can probably best be explained by the attempt of an over-zealous biographer to combine knowledge of the Rhodian period of the poet’s life with the existence of an alternative version of at least the first book of the Argonautica (the so-called proekdosis; see Schade and Eleuteri 2001: 29-33), mention of which is made several times in the ancient scholia on the poem. Instead, it is now generally agreed that the Argonautica is in an important sense an epic that is in step with Calli-machean poetic theories and practice and, more generally, in fine tune with the literary trends prevalent in Hellenistic Alexandria (see Margolies DeForest 1994), even if he does not go quite as far as some of his contemporaries in experimenting with Homeric metrical, lingustic and stylistic norms.
In this context, it is difficult to overemphasize the importance of the fact that Apollonius was Librarian of the great center of scholarship founded and promoted by Ptolemy I. Not only does tenure of this position place him right at the heart of the vibrant literary world of the mid-third century bce, it also sees him holding the most influential position of royal patronage open to a poet. The foundation of such a great library was in no way a sign of intellectual withdrawal into an ivory tower cut off from the realities of contemporary politics and society. It was instead a gesture of considerable political and cultural importance. To be at the head of such an institution was to occupy a post not only of great intellectual prestige, but also one of considerable cultural influence (Cameron 1995: 1-70). That a man in such a position wrote an Argonautica, an ancient saga about Greeks involved in a journey overseas and their encounters with non-Greek civilizations all around the fringes of the Mediterranean world, should be an essential detail for readers of this quintessentially Hellenistic epic. It would, however, be a mistake to underestimate the other key fact arising from Apollonius’ tenure of the post of Librarian: that he had access to a great collection of books. The Argonautica is the highly learned, bookish product of a bookish age (see Bing 1988 and Cameron 1995, who emphasizes continuities with the traditional oral culture, and appreciation of this fact must be central to any interpretation of the work. In particular, Apollonius was a student of Homer, and his epic poem is based on long and detailed study of the Iliad and Odyssey. Both on the level of large-scale narrative patterns and of detailed verbal interaction, the ideal reader of the Argonautica should be engaged in deciphering the traces of a fascinating dialogue between the texts of the Argonautica and of the Iliad and Odyssey. Apollonius was in fact a Homeric scholar in his own right (Rengakos 1994), and the elaboration of his epic style may be read as a kind of commentary on Homeric epic as it was studied in third-century Alexandria. To a greater or lesser extent of course, all Hellenistic poets are involved in this process (Rengakos 1993), and in interpreting the work of such writers as Apollonius, Callimachus, Theocritus, Aratus, and Nicander, appreciation of a constant and complex intertextual engagement with Homer must be a key element.
Unfortunately, full access to the complexities of this process of rereading and rewriting is denied us by our ignorance about relative chronology. It is generally believed that the Argonautica post-dates the Aetia (or at least its first two books) and the Hecale of Callimachus, and that it predates Theocritus’ Idylls 13 and 22, two poems that deal with episodes from the story of the Argonauts. But it would be unwise to base too much critical weight on this chronology, and there are heavyweight counter-arguments (Kohnken 1965 and 2001; Cameron 1995: 247-62). In any case, the Argonautica stands out as one of the most fascinating creations of the Hellenistic age.