Linguistic variation is evidently fashionable, but these two volumes, despite their sometimes rather internalized discourse, also contain much of interest to readers of this Journal. P. Poccetti (2012), in discussing mostly divine names in the various languages of early Italy, demonstrates the independent nature of the borrowings of the name of Hercules in Latin, Etruscan and Oscan, notwithstanding the frequent ambiguity of the evidence; in the case of the form, passtata, ‘house’, attested at Pompei (89), I suspect passage by way of Etruscan rather than direct borrowing. Given the inventive character of much Greek ethnography, I have very considerable doubts as to whether Hecataeus provides reliable evidence either for the ‘Oenotri’ or for the name of one of their cities (73). The nickname Herukalos, allegedly used by Sophron, remains as mysterious as ever (85); and Dominique Briquel observes to me that the hypothesis of Colonna, that the inscription apols comes from the territory of the Marsi, cannot be right, given what we now know about the terminus ante quem for its discovery. Solin (2012) reminds us that neither alphabet nor language necessarily identify ethnicity, but does not discuss why people choose to write in an alphabet or language that was not their own. And an absolutely sparkling paper by Eleanor Dickey (2012) provides the first ever proper discussion of Latin loan-words in Greek, on the basis of a corpus in preparation of integrated loan-words.

Van Heems (2011), curiously not citing Rix on variations in Italic, shows both that there was a distinctively Volsinian dialect of Etruscan and also identifies –eal as an élite usage, –ial as a non-élite usage, generating interesting parallels with ‘rustic’ Latin. This evidence now needs to be linked with discussions, beginning with Mario Torelli, of the material culture of Volsinii. I would have some doubts, against Briquel (2011), as to whether a written treaty really provided (the source of) Livy with the praenomen of C. Pontius Herenni filius. Hadas-Lebel (2011) concludes, like Bakkum, that Faliscan was a dialect of Latin, though it is odd that a book published in 2009 only makes it into the last footnote of an article in a book published in 2011; once again, the evidence needs to become part of a wider story, which would involve the separateness of the Falisci in relation to Latin cults or institutions. Dupraz (2011) documents how Umbrian surur functions like Latin item, but does not ask himself about Latin siremps, embedded in phrases such as siremps lex ius causaque esto. See however Ernout-Meillet, s.v.: ‘Il faut isoler –pse; –em rappelle le –em de it-em, ī-dem, etc.; la formation est donc comparable à ombr. susur-ont en face de surur “item” …’ Now that we know that the future imperative, characteristic of Roman legislation from the Twelve Tables onwards, was used for prescriptive purposes both in Picenum and in Lucania c. 500 b.c., are we beginning to see a common legislative language in early Italy?