On Penguin's Plutarch (by a non-expert reader)

Parallel lives, placing two lives side by side and judging by comparison. That is the comparative technique, as devised by Plutarch to suit his artistic and biographical purposes. The prologue to the first life justifying the reason for his pairing and the epilogue at the end of the second comparing the two heroes, which in the passing of time were judged not to be essential to the text, as were regrettably his pairings. His comparative epilogues, in future and recent printings, I read, were omitted and his paired lives separated with little or no thought given as to the essentiality of their being paired together. I admit on reading of this I was astounded! And even though this unsatisfactory approach first came about years ago I still feel irritated that such a measure was even considered and forwarded. Nor does the original logic behind it: that 'it seemed natural [when the Penguin series first started to appear] to separate each Life from its pair and organise the volumes by period and city', and to thereby also omit the epilogues from the translations, which in some part still holds, seem to me to be logical at all. Did nobody working on this project ask themselves why were these lives paired thus? And what was the artistic merit? Surely the comparative passages alone would have been enough to convince there was some intended structure in play, which should, at whatever cost or logic as they then saw it, be preserved? 
Apparently not. (Though it still to me beggars belief Plutarch's distinctive pairing of a Greek and Roman was not seen as fundamental, nor, to repeat myself, that it was not asked what was he trying to underlie with the partnership of such people.) Although they came to remark upon it later and perhaps to regret the error, enough at least to admit to it but not enough to restore in revised editions Plutarch's pairings or respect his own 'authorial intentions.' Again, I'm incensed! Which is not usually the case with Penguin Classics. Though it is true their position – this revision being made in 2005 – may have again since then changed, or may do so again in future should the demand for Plutarch continue, or surge again after a fall.
So, whilst the revised Lives now - I'm told - include the prologue to the first and epilogue of the second, the pairs are still not printed as intended. And Penguin continue to sort the Lives into logical groups of their own devise. I am I admit somewhat confused, as much by this revision as by their original separation method. Why admit to this editorial error and not correct it?
The scholar as well as the reader is blamed. The scholar for he/she has only lately realised the importance of the pairings and how all Plutarch's lives are crafted; and the reader because they read Plutarch 'to see what he has to say about a particular period, and will wish to compare his treatment of the major players to see how the different parts of his historical jigsaw fit together.' The pairings would in other words force the readers to purchase several different volumes of the series or the whole set in order to satisfy their interest or achieve a thorough understanding. I thought publishers wanted to make money? Is this reasoning not for purposes of practicality but to cover up the chaotic approach they took and continue to take?
I have to say I think the latter explanation is more likely. But then I feel, as may have been noted, very strongly on this matter. For whatever method or system a writer has devised it should be adhered to and honoured. It should not be altered simply to suit modern readership or an editor's logic because such a revision seems to make sense when it was not the sense, and departs widely from it, in which the author conceived or created or meant it to be read. That is not honouring the author or the work.
The translator in the preface to the original edition concludes it by saying – I paraphrase – the texts (in this volume) should speak for themselves as much as possible. How can they do that when the author's intention – in this volume and subsequent others containing other Greek and Roman Lives - has, and continues, transparently, to be dishonoured? The format is just as fundamental as the text; one cannot speak nor make itself understood without the support of the other. If they are made to, as I believe they have been in this Penguin series, public comprehension - of the author and his work – will, at best, be partial, or, dare I say it, fail to exist at all.

Picture credit: The So-called Leonides Sculpture, Helmed Hoplite, 5th Century BC, Archaeological Museum of Sparta, Greece (source: Wikipedia).

See On Sparta, revised edition with Life of Agesilaus, first published 2005.

Notes from journal, written April 2021.