At footnote 76, Wolf cross-refers to an earlier part of his treatise (Ch.18), where he argues not only that Homer did not use writing in composing his poetry but also that the Homer scholars of Alexandria must have known this:
In his footnote 39, Wolf specifies that this additional testimony comes from the scholia to Dionysius Thrax published by Villoison himself in his Anecdota Graeca 2.182 [Grammatici Graeci 3.179]: the Greek text of the scholiast is translated thus: “For the works of Homer were lost, as they say. For in those days they were not transmitted by writing, but only by training so that they might be preserved by memory, etc.” [24]
As we see from the wording of Josephus, he claims that the poems of Homer were preserved by memory and assembled later from the songs. The idea of an ‘assembling’ of a text ‘from the songs’ suggests that the premise of Josephus’ argumentation is the existence of stories that told of a recension of the Homeric poems commissioned by the Athenian tyrant Peisistratos. [26] We may treat these stories as a historical reality in their own right, even if we do not choose to believe the contents of the stories. In other words, the historical reality is not necessarily what the stories say about a Peisistratean Recension, as Wolf argues, but merely the stories themselves—or, better, the narrative tradition. It can be argued, pace Wolf, that the stories of the Peisistratean Recension result from a political myth, fostered by the dynasty of Peisistratos himself, that pictured the tyrant as a culture hero who rescued and restored the poems of Homer, which had formerly become neglected, fragmented, and even lost. [27] It can also be argued that such stories are characteristic of a type of charter myth, attested not only in other archaic Greek traditions but also in those of a wide variety of different cultures, that serves {10|11} to explain the genesis of a centralized oral tradition in the metaphorical terms of written traditions, so that the gradual evolution of an oral tradition into a centralized institution is imagined by the myth as an instantaneous re-creation of a lost book—or of an obsolete archetype of an ultimate Book. [28]
In other words, the ‘edition’ of the Septuagint that Jerome uses as his own textual source is koinē to the extent that it is a ‘common’—in the sense of ‘general’ or even ‘universal’—text, but it transcends the designation of koinē to the extent that it is a ‘corrected’ text, freed from ‘corruptions’ associated with a text that is ‘common’—in the sense of ‘vulgar’. The word koinē has the aura of an authoritative but relatively ‘uncorrected’ text.