St. Basil the Great, Basil of Caesarea, Βασίλειος ὁ Μέγας, Ⲡⲓⲁⲅⲓⲟⲥ Ⲃⲁⲥⲓⲗⲓⲟⲥ—whatever you want to call him, he was preachy. Unco good, as I've heard the Scots say. A monastic and dogmatic fellow, in the literal sense of the word, adhering neck-and-neck alongside the Nicene Creed and rejecting Arianism (which is the doctrine in which I was raised, and which seems more sensible than the Trinity. Alas.). Basil was, by most accounts however, a toppermost chap. Good for the poor and such.
But what about his Greek? It's not too different from his biog. Preachy, unco good, monastic, dogmatic, and inked with good intentions. I supplemented my reading with E.R. Maloney's edition and (sometimes) helpful notes, but there were times when I couldn't make bases or apexes of what St. Basil was trying to tell me. I've read Basil was a revealer of mysteries. Nyet. He obfuscates with his grammar, and sometimes Maloney himself gives up on Basil. Take this charming instance on p. 50: 'The sense of this sentence is as follows: "and the case seems to me as though a painter had represented a sitter as a marvel of manly beauty" [etc.]'
Many examples such as this exist. At whom do we point our pitchforks? Raymond Maloney or Basil? Is St. Basil truly lucid if editors cannot find ways to parse his sentences? At times, St. B. reads as easily as English, but on more than ten occasions I thought I was piecing together fragments of Greek. I blame the commentary for taking the easy way out, giving 'the general sense' where syntactical explications should be setting up camp.
Basil's theme is not terribly original. He does for Greek lit what Milton did for Latin lit: baptise it. Homer leads us towards ἀρετή, which is Christian, so he is good. Euripides and Plato have their fair share to say on ἀρετή, so they are good. Herodotus has moments of ἀρετή. As do...well, take your pick.
A jolly trip into late antiquity, but don't expect the sodomy and sherbet of Hellenism. Perhaps I'll revisit St. Basil another day, out of historical curiosity rather than philological pleasure, and find whatever it was the Catholics found so the Great about his writing.