“Well, now I'll turn to his prologues,” Euripides exclaims, “and the first part of the tragedy will be the very first thing of this clever man's that I put to the rack.” The earliest surviving example of literary criticism in antiquity is the riotous parody in Aristophanes' Frogs, where Euripides subjects the beginning of Aeschylus' Choephori to hair-splitting sophistic torture, and Aeschylus responds with verbal slap-stick, pummeling his opponent's prologues with a barrage of “little oil flasks.” Clearly enough, an author's opening words – μῆνιν ἄειδε, θεά, arma virumque cano – are charged with special meaning; and consequently, as Aristophanes reminds us, these opening words are an obvious target of criticism. The following collection of essays seeks to place in perspective literary openings and our readings of them by bringing together a broad sample of authors and critics. Before reviewing this range of approaches, I start with an example that renders problematic the very act of making a beginning.

The stage is empty. Slowly, two figures approach from the left. They hesitate, unsure which way to turn. Finally, they reach the center of the stage and pause. One is a frail old man and the other a younger woman, both in rags. The man turns to speak: