The Loeb Classical Livy, Books 23-25

Livy: History of Rome Books 23-25
Translated by J. C. Yardley
The Loeb Classical Library of Harvard University Press, 2020

The customary reviewer gambit when talking about some new translation of a classic work is to jog through a quick passage-by-passage comparison of how the new translator’s English reads alongside that of some of the previous translators. One of the newest volumes in the venerable Loeb Classical Library from Harvard University Press, for instance, is a new rendition by J. C. Yardley of Books 23, 24, and 25 of Livy’s monumental history of Rome, books covering some of the most dramatic incidents in Rome’s epic struggle against Hannibal and the armies and navies of Carthage during the Second Punic War. This new volume replaces earlier translations by B. O. Foster and Grant Gardner Moore, and it comes to readers with no critical window-dressing at all: no Introduction, no Translator’s Preface, no End Notes  - we launch directly into Livy’s account of a war Rome seems to be losing. 

The Carthaginian commander Hannibal is rampaging across Italy, defeating one Roman army after another at places like Cannae and Trasimene, and no Roman commander seems to be able to gain back the initiative. And as always, Livy has one ear keenly tuned to every opportunity for drama, as in the quick scene in Book XXIV where Quintus Fabius, the closest thing Rome has to a hero, returns to Rome at election time and urges the populace to consider the ongoing war when they’re casting their votes. Back in 2006, JC Yardley translated the passage this way for the Oxford World’s Classics:

“If we now had peace in Italy, or a war and an enemy that would grant us some latitude for sloppiness, then anyone attempting to curb the enthusiasm you bring to the Campus to bestow office upon men of your choosing - I would think such a man had too little consideration for your liberties. But, in the case of this war and this enemy, no mistake made by any commander has yet failed to precipitate disaster on a massive scale. You must therefore proceed to the vote for electing your consuls with the same caution that you exercise when you go in armour to the battlefield, and every man should say to himself: ‘I propose a consul who can match Hannibal as a commander.’”

And in this case, there isn’t any particular need to look to some other translator to see some possible variations on how this passage can be rendered, because now, fourteen years later, Yardley himself its taking another shot at it:

“If we had either peace in Italy or such a war and such an enemy as would allow more latitude for sloppiness, anyone attempting to curb the enthusiasm you bring to the Campus to bestow offices on the men you want would then seem to me to have too little consideration for your freedom of choice. But since, in this war and with this enemy, no mistake has ever been made by any commander without it bringing disaster on a massive scale, you should proceed to the vote for electing your consuls with the same caution with which you would go armed into battle, and each of you should say to himself: “I am nominating a consul who can match Hannibal as a commander.” 

It’s a fascinating glimpse at the considered second thoughts of a seasoned classicist. The passages are filled with minuscule changes - singulars to plurals, phrases to single words and vice versa, single sentences in Livy being broken into two sentences, and so on. In both cases, most importantly, Yardley very nicely captures Livy’s voice, or more particularly Livy’s conception of the voice of Quintus Fabius. And although questions of style are almost always fuzzy, there’s a strong case to be made that the later translation, despite the slightly greater liberties it takes, makes the better reading. 

Certainly this is true throughout this new Loeb volume; unlike many of the ancient texts featured in Loeb’s fantastic catalogue, Livy makes and was always intended to make gripping reading. The two earlier Loeb editions that covered these Books didn’t often rise to that intention, but Yardley never fails to do so - his English-language Livy on Rome’s most dramatic hour is totally absorbing. Both of them are.

—Steve Donoghue is a founding editor of Open Letters Monthly. His book criticism has appeared in The Boston Globe, The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, and The American Conservative. He writes regularly for The National, The Vineyard Gazette, and The Christian Science Monitor. His website is http://www.stevedonoghue.com.