Thursday, December 13, 2018

2018.12.30

Jeremiah W. Cataldo, A Social-Political History of Monotheism: From Judah to the Byzantines. London; New York: Routledge, 2018. Pp. 242. ISBN 9781138222809. $140.00.

Reviewed by Geert Lernout, University of Antwerp (geert.lernout@uantwerpen.be)

Version at BMCR home site

Preview

Jeremiah W. Cataldo is a history professor with a history of publishing books on reading the Hebrew bible from the perspective of cultural studies. His particular interest is the development of biblical monotheism in Yehud, as a result of the status of the province within the Persian empire. In one book he addresses the historical situation described in the biblical books of Ezra and Nehemiah and the way it reflects a theocratic political system and in a second study he showed the way the failed theocracy in Yehud contributed to the exclusionary nature of the form of monotheism that developed out of the Hebrew scriptures. In his own words on the first page of the introduction to the present book, the thesis of these studies boils down to this: "fear and conflict are driving forces behind the historical development of monotheism" (vi).1 In this new book, Cataldo extends the argument to include Christian monotheism, with its own troubled relationship with the Roman empire.

As explained in the first chapter, this book is written from a historical perspective (or, more precisely "social-scientific") and not from a theological one: religion for Cataldo is "entirely a human activity" (1). This chapter also claims that monotheism in this restricted sense is based on fear 2 and that it must be understood as a reaction to a very specific set of social and political conditions. Cataldo explains the origin of the word monotheism, the predominantly sociological role of religion (with help from Peter Berger) and then he moves to the issue of evil (which he feels is a major philosophical problem in monotheism). When he then discusses the concept of morality, things get a bit murkier (and certainly not less eclectic) since Cataldo accepts help from the not so clear thinkers Gilles Deleuze and Alain Badiou, but he ends the chapter with a fundamental existential question: "why should I give a shit about dusty old reliquaries and coffins?" (22). I quote this question because it is an indication of the author's radical use of anachronistic diction: there had been a reference to Agent Mulder just a few pages earlier. And, before we forget, the answer to the blunt question is "because history".

The structure of the rest of the book is historical and chronological. Cataldo starts in chapter 2 with what he calls the prophetic paradigm in the earlier parts of the Hebrew bible, and he describes prophets as "sociopolitical activists" (47). He shows Isaiah's role in the development of monotheism in the context of the Assyrian and Babylonian empires, which, in turn, leads to a discussion of the use in this period of "Judah" and "Israel" as identifiers and to the terrain explored in his earlier books, the role of the "Babylonian-returnee contingent" in Yehud and their attempt to "restore" something that they called "Israel":

Rather than reading the biblical texts as confirmation that the returnee community has attained (or was attaining) economic and political power exclusively, one should read them as an attempt to justify why the community should be in a position of authority and, consequently, why it alone should represent the seed of a restored Israel (44).

This is what the next few chapters try to illustrate, first, in chapter 3 going back to Moses and the early views of Yahweh as a symbol of political centralization. Here, Cataldo makes ample use of recent independent (non-theological) historical work, and he does the same in chapter 4 when he discusses the emergence of monotheism. These chapters are the strongest, maybe because the author is operating in the territory explored in his dissertation.

In chapter 5, he leaves that terrain, with a discussion of the Maccabean revolt and the sectarian milieu in which Christianity first appears in chapter 6. These later chapters sometimes read more like a straightforward history of the period than as chapters in a book on monotheism. As he did in the first part, both in the case of the Maccabeans and in that of the different Jewish sects, Cataldo stresses the importance of the relationship of these groups with contemporary empires (first Hasmonaean and then Roman).

For somebody who claims to approach religion from a social-historical perspective, there is not enough reflection on the selection of evidence in the very different time periods under discussion: in the early parts we have mostly the bible's own word, whereas in the later period we have Philo, Josephus, the Dead Sea Scrolls and a variety of Roman authors. Especially for the early Christian period, we have much more evidence about the heterogeneous nature of the population of these parts of the world, so a more sophisticated discussion of the social and political reality of Israel/Palestine would not have been impossible. For example, we know from all of these sources that there were different kinds of Judaism in the intertestamental period, whereas in the centuries before, we only have the bible itself as witness of the religious reality on the ground.

As the writing of history, this book is not as successful as it could be, not so much because of the playful anachronisms the author loves so much (not just X-files, but also bible thumpers, Reform Judaism, Bush's reaction to 9/11, Jerry Falwell), but because he sometimes fails to distinguish clearly between what is happening to Judaism in the first two centuries of Christianity and what Maimonides has to say about the subject a millennium later. There is also no indication in this book that for the most part there was not yet a fixed canon of the Hebrew scriptures, so a term like "literalism" (as in the discussion of the Sadducees) is not useful at this stage, when we do not even know which books were part of the scriptures.

The treatment of early Christianity is marred by a similar kind of teleology (with rabbinic Judaism as the telos of the sections on monotheism in the Hebrew bible): despite the discussion of the growing orthodoxy under the direction of the emperors after Constantine, there is not enough acknowledgment of the divergences of what constituted Christianity in the first four centuries. Cataldo also does not reflect on the fact that the earliest Christian authors wrote in Greek, that the four gospels represent more than one Christianity (and even four different formulations of the titulus crucis, which he discusses at some point as part of his argument).

It is only reluctantly that I mention that there are so many editorial problems with this book, that one cannot call them infelicities. All too often these pages look as though something went wrong in the production of the final manuscript, and, on account of its many inconsistencies, that final manuscript seems not to have had the attentions of an editor. On one occasion emphasis is marked in bold type and not in italics, as in the rest of the book; verbs appear in two variants or are simply missing; adverbs and adjectives are needlessly repeated; principle instead of principal; we find newly invented words such as "veritability" or ideosyncratic use of existing expressions ("fair-weather" or "to draw question"; important works are mentioned in the text that do not make it into the bibliography; there is singular/plural or verb/object discordance; quotations are incomplete or contain spelling or syntax errors; fairly late, one quotation is given in Italian and not translated (without apparent reason, except that Cataldo seems to have written the preface to the book in Trastevere).

The author cannot be blamed for all this: often contemporary academic publishing presses no longer employ copy-editors. This is a great pity because there is certainly room for a social-political history of biblical monotheism, and Jeremiah W. Cataldo demonstrates here that he may well be the person to write it.



Notes:


1.   Jeremiah W. Cataldo. A Theocratic Yehud? Issies of Government in a Persian Province. (London: T & T Clark, 2009) and Breaking Monotheism: Yehud and the Material Formation of Monotheistic Identity. (London: T & T Clark, 2013).
2.   See also the other book Cataldo has published this year: Biblical Terror: Why Law and Restoration in the Bible Depend Upon Fear. (London: T & T Clark, 2018).

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2018.12.29

Andrew Wilson (ed.), Trade, Commerce, and the State in the Roman World. Oxford studies on the Roman economy. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2018. Pp. xxi, 656. ISBN 9780198790662. $145.00.

Reviewed by Eli J. S. Weaverdyck, Albert-Ludwigs-Universität Freiburg (eli.weaverdyck@geschichte.uni-freiburg.de)

Version at BMCR home site

Preview
[Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review]

This book is the fourth in a series of conference proceedings organized by the editors as part of the Oxford Roman Economy Project (OxREP). After an introduction, the book is divided into three sections, one on the state and institutions, one on trade within the empire, and one on trade across the frontiers.

Wilson and Bowman's introduction presents their view of the current state of scholarship on Roman trade and the importance of the state. They are confident in the new, optimistic perspective that has emerged recently. Unfortunately, in clearing away the old arguments of the twentieth century, they neglect one of the most important of the twenty-first: the extent of economic integration. While few now would endorse a minimalist view of long-distance trade, real questions remain about the integration of areas off the main trade routes and the relative importance of macro-regional versus empire-wide trade. Instead, they ask to what extent trade was market-driven and how the state impacted trade in various ways. In synthesizing the contributions to the volume, they offer some answers to their questions. The state had a major influence on commerce through the establishment of common institutions, the construction of infrastructure, and the efforts to supply privileged consumers. State influence precludes the description of the ancient economy as simply market-driven, but substantial private trade coexisted with imperially controlled exchange and performed quite well for a preindustrial economy. Wilson and Bowman rightly insist on the importance of extra-imperial trade and demonstrate its significant contribution to the state's revenues. They do not address its significance for the rest of the Roman economy and its integration with intra-imperial networks, which only demonstrates how little extra-imperial trade has influenced debates until now. Hopefully this volume will inspire others to address these questions.

The contributions in Part I highlight the extent of the state's involvement in commerce. Bowman argues that the total tax burden was higher, on the order of 15–20%, than the one propounded in the "low-tax regime" model. This higher burden has implications for the taxes-and-trade model, but, since some unquantifiable portion of the extra taxes in Bowman's model would remain in the region from which the taxes were raised, the precise effect is uncertain. Adams reveals how the state closely controlled the shipment of public grain down the Nile while making use of private ships. Although there is no certain evidence for a piggy-back trade, its existence seems likely, as do return cargos from Alexandria. It is unfortunate that Adams discusses no archaeological evidence here. Sirks advances a somewhat speculative argument that publicani might have made productive loans from the vast cash reserves they controlled.

The first section also produces the impression that state actors had a generally positive view of commerce. Most explicitly, Lo Cascio argues that interventions in the market were meant to ensure the normal workings of supply and demand against distortions caused both by speculators seeking to raise prices and by political forces pushing them down. Sirks shows that Roman law was quickly adapted to facilitate trade across long distances and with non-citizens following Roman expansion.

Finally, the state also facilitated complex credit arrangements, thereby multiplying the money supply. Sirks reviews the legal instruments for credit, and Kay's analysis of credit crises in the first centuries BCE and CE reveals the scope and importance of the credit system. Kay and Sirks also illustrate the limits of the state's positive influence. Sirks suggests that, if his argument about the lending power of the publicani is correct, the state's takeover of tax collection could have cut off an important source of credit and contributed to the economic crisis of the third century. Kay describes the state's response to credit crises as almost invariably detrimental. What these state actions have in common is a failure to understand economic systems. The laws and interventions that Sirks and Lo Cascio describe facilitate individual transactions. Credit crises, on the other hand, are systemic. They result from a web of interrelated transactions. The lack of economic theory in the ancient world made it very difficult for state actors to comprehend the system as a whole, so their responses to systemic crises were ineffectual.

The state is less consistently present in Part II on trade within the Empire. The picture that emerges is of the state as a player in a larger economy with a unique ability to mobilize resources, but always acting within the context of a larger set of economic exchanges. Harris describes how the state controlled certain forests for its own purposes, but most of the demand for wood was met through local- and regional-scale trade. Russell shows how the Empire's extravagant use of exotic stones coexisted with a more modest, private use of exotic, decorative stone. Foy's analysis of glass, while focused on private trade, reveals that the state was involved in the production of unguentaria. In his overview of African pottery, Bonifay argues that state-directed trade can explain only some of the distribution patterns observed. Similarly, Reynolds' impressive synthesis of large-scale pottery assemblages across the Mediterranean shows that regional divisions visible in the Byzantine period had their roots in earlier close-regional trade networks. Papi's rehabilitation of Mauretania Tingitana, which can no longer be seen as an underdeveloped appendage of Baetica, includes descriptions of large military granaries, but much more impressive is the evidence for massive exports of grain, oil, and fish products and the long history of pre-Roman Mediterranean integration. Fulford focuses most closely on the state's economic activity. He argues that procurators supplied the nodes of the cursus publicus in Britain with Gallic terra sigillata that then entered the private market, preventing the emergence of a British terra sigillata industry. In the process, however, he also points out that the output from some centers circulated only in private markets. Therefore, while it was uniquely powerful, the state was one economic actor among many.

The other impression to emerge is of the great complexity of trade. Foy describes local, medium, and long-distance exchanges at every stage of the glass production process, from trade in sand and natron to slabs of raw glass to finished products. Reynolds details how different products travelled along different trade networks at different scales and how these shifted over time. These networks could overlap geographically without necessarily mixing. So, for example, the Black Sea goods that flowed through the Aegean to the West bypassed Butrint, but the city did receive Aegean cookwares and ESB. Roman intra-imperial trade was complex, and the state was partially but significantly involved in many different sectors.

Part III, on trade across the frontiers, demonstrates the vitality of overland and maritime trade across Rome's eastern and southern frontiers, especially in the first two centuries CE. Trade across the northern frontiers is excluded because the editors see it as relatively insignificant (pp. 16–17).

Graf brings together the available evidence for overland trade between China and Rome, arguing for its significance alongside maritime trade. This chapter is an ambitious undertaking. On his own admission, a proper account would require the collaboration of multiple regional experts. Since I am currently employed by just such a project, I asked my colleagues for their opinions on this chapter.1 While Graf's handling of the Palmyrene evidence is strong, his lack of familiarity with other regions will be evident to specialists. He makes several geographical errors, but the larger issue is, perhaps, unavoidable in a chapter such as this. Despite acknowledging the need to situate long-distance exchange within a holistic understanding of the various societies across Asia (p. 448), the groups he discusses become, in the end, mere intermediaries between China and Rome (p. 507). Graf is surely correct that silk travelled across overland routes in significant quantities, but to fully grasp why and how it made the journey and how that changed over time is beyond the scope of this contribution.

The next three chapters treating maritime trade are narrower in scope and written by scholars with an intimate knowledge of the evidence they handle. Tomber and Nappo both argue for the continuing vitality of trade between Rome and India in the second century CE. Nappo's analysis of Roman coins as an object of trade draws attention to a less commonly considered way in which state actions had economic impacts. Tomber's analysis of archaeological remains in Egypt's eastern desert highlights a seeming paradox. Despite the immense revenue derived from maritime trade with India, the state invested little in the infrastructure of the Red Sea ports. Davidde's chapter might contain a solution. Her underwater survey of Qana', on the southern Arabian coast, revealed no port architecture, but it did identify mooring stones in the middle of the harbor to which ships could be tied.

The final chapter in the book is Andrew Wilson's description of Saharan trade. Field work in southern Libya conducted from the late 1990s to 2011 has completely upended the old consensus. The discovery of copious amounts of Roman material scattered across many sites in the Sahara now proves that trade with the inhabitants of the desert thrived especially from the late first through the third century CE. Political relations between Rome and the Garamantes seem to have been important influences on the volume of trade, and there is some indication that Flavian activity in the Sahara provided an initial stimulus to sustained, large-scale exchange; but the precise role of the state remains murky.

Like its predecessors from OxREP, this volume contains a wealth of valuable interventions in debates about the Roman economy. The synthesis of recently discovered or compiled archaeological material, often by scholars responsible for its initial production, makes this book invaluable to economic historians. The inclusion of materials that are usually marginalized and the insistence on the importance of extra-imperial trade are themselves important steps forward as well. Any collection of scholarship on the Roman economy should contain this book.

Table of Contents

Andrew Wilson and Alan Bowman. Introduction: Trade, Commerce, and the State (1)

PART I. INSTITUTIONS AND THE STATE
Alan Bowman. The State and the Economy: Fiscality and Taxation (27)
Boudewijn Sirks. Law, Commerce, and Finance in the Roman Empire (54)
Elio Lo Cascio. Market Regulation and Transaction Costs in the Roman Empire (117)
Philip Kay. Financial Institutions and Structures in the Last Century of the Roman Republic (133)
Colin Adams. Nile River Transport under the Romans (175)

PART II. TRADE WITHIN THE EMPIRE
William V. Harris. The Indispensible Commodity: Notes on the Economy of Wood in the Roman Mediterranean (211)
Ben Russell. Stone Use and the Economy: Demand, Distribution, and the State (237)
Danièle Foy. An Overview of the Circulation of Glass in Antiquity (265)
Michael Fulford. Procurators' Business? Gallo-Roman Sigillata in Britain in the Second and Third Centuries AD (301)
Michel Bonifay. The Distribution of African Pottery under the Roman Empire: Evidence versus Interpretation (327)
Paul Reynolds. The Supply Networks of the Roman East and West: Interaction, Fragmentation, and the Origins of the Byzantine Economy (353)
Ivan Radman-Livaja. Prices and Costs in the Textile Industry in the Light of the Lead Tags from Siscia (397)
Emanuele Papi. Exports and Imports in Mauretania Tingitana: The Evidence from Thamusida (427)

PART III. TRADE BEYOND THE FRONTIERS
David F. Graf. The Silk Road between Syria and China (443)
Roberta Tomber. Egypt and Eastern Commerce during the Second Century AD and Later (531)
Dario Nappo. Money and Flows of Coinage in the Red Sea Trade (557)
Barbara Davidde. The Port of Qana', a Junction between the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea (579)
Andrew Wilson. Trade across Rome's Southern Frontier: The Sahara and the Garamantes (599)


Notes:


1.   Beyond the Silk Road funded by the ERC and under the direction of Professor Sitta von Reden.

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2018.12.28

Marianne Bjelland Kartzow, The Slave Metaphor and Gendered Enslavement in Early Christian Discourse: Double Trouble Embodied. Routledge studies in the early Christian world. London; New York: Routledge, 2018. Pp. xiii, 167. ISBN 9780815374657. $140.00.

Reviewed by Ulrike Roth, The University of Edinburgh (u.roth@ed.ac.uk)

Version at BMCR home site

[The Table of Contents is listed below.]

There has been much scholarly disagreement over the socio-economic standing of the early Christians. All the same, scholars have long been agreed that whether poor or rich, of low or middling social status, the new religion counted enslaved individuals, beside their free counterparts—including slave owners—among its adherents. If that was so, how did these diverse groups—or, rather, their various members—understand the metaphorical usage of slavery in much of early Christian discourse? In particular, what did it mean for those with real-life experiences of slavery that the new religion framed relationships in the faith according to terms and concepts that stem from, and in turn inform the reality of, slave exploitation? These are the central questions that Marianne Bjelland Kartzow asks in her study of The Slave Metaphor and Gendered Enslavement in Early Christian Discourse: Double Trouble Embodied, expounding (in one methodological and five thematic chapters) her view of a diverse reception of the slavery metaphor among the early Christians.

In Chapter 1, Kartzow discusses such theoretical tools as Conceptual Metaphor Theory, Blending Theory, and Alternate Conceptual Mapping to draw attention to the conceptual hurdles (and opportunities) involved in studying metaphor. But she also manifests her commitment to 'intersectionality' in this chapter—i.e. the recognition that different people would have conceptualised one and the same metaphor differently, based on their experiences and, importantly here, their relationship to (real-life) slavery. Whether one was enslaved or slave-owning, female or male, destitute or wealthy would yield quite different personal experiences with the institution. As a corollary, Kartzow rejects the notion of a single reading of any one passage; instead, she seeks 'not to find the origin, but rather to analyse the alternatives' (p. 37, original emphasis), thus to 'search for possible stories that can contribute to discovering how the slavery metaphor could have been conceptualized' (p. 34). Drawing moreover on the concept of the metanarrative, i.e., the idea that there exist schemas that function as Über-narratives, framing and simultaneously explaining whole sets of (smaller) stories, Kartzow also seeks to uncover what she calls 'a master idea' (p. 34) in several early Christian stories. Consequently, Kartzow contends that such metanarratives (as, for instance, Israel's communal enslavement, or Joseph's personal experience of enslavement) 'may be relevant when early Christians conceptualized the slavery metaphor' (p. 36). What, then, 'does it say about the slavery metaphor in early Christian discourse when men and women can be slaves of God and slaves in reality, when Jesus can be a slave master, metaphorical and real, and Jesus also can be slave himself?' (p. 7, original emphases).

Chapter 2 provides one answer. The discussion focuses on three different stories that feature slavery metaphors in contexts that involved women. Analysing the story of Mary, the mother of Jesus, Kartzow challenges its standard one-dimensional reading—i.e. one that champions the perspective of the free adult male (of probably middling status) among the early Christians. In Luke, the angel Gabriel tells Mary that—despite being a virgin—she will conceive, having found special favour with god; Mary replies as follows: 'Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word' (p. 48). Kartzow questions the widespread hesitation to translate δοῦλος with 'slave', rather than 'servant' (and the same could be said for the translation of κύριος as 'master', rather than 'Lord'). Importantly, Mary's case enables Kartzow to foreground the reproductive experience of enslaved females. Read from that perspective, Mary's situation appears in a different light—namely as that of the powerless female who is made to reproduce by order of her master; the meaning of the slavery metaphor in play here changes in consequence: '(w)hen used on a young girl such as Mary […] being a woman in reproductive age who is asked to give birth to her master's son, the metaphor is "made real"' (p. 54). On this basis, Kartzow is able to contrast sharply the configuration of Paul as 'the slave of god' with that of Mary: 'when gender intersects with slavery, it constructs a contrast between ideal male metaphorical slaves and the un-ideal female real slave' (p. 58).

Similar discussions of the fortune-telling enslaved woman whom Paul meets in Philippi (Acts 16: 16–19) and the enslaved female Egyptian Hagar (Gal. 4: 21–31) throw into greater relief the diversity of the narrated characters, as well as of the audience (pp. 54–62). Moreover, Kartzow identifies the fortune-telling woman as a rhetorical vehicle, underlining the powerless woman's usefulness to others; she is made to announce Paul's special relationship with God: '(i)n order to get a specific metaphorical effect, Luke needed a female owned body to proclaim who Paul was and that he and his men knew the way of salvation. A female slave was needed to proclaim and strengthen the position of the male slaves of God' (p. 58). Those familiar with Roman law will be reminded of the Roman jurists' inclination to 'use slaves' in their discussions, i.e. to 'think with' slavery and the enslaved body, especially in the explication of complex situations.1 This practice, here explored on NT texts, subjects the (fictional) slave figure to a double form of exploitation, thereby reinforcing their domination and, in the context of Roman law as here, property status.2

In Chapter 3, Kartzow asks what kind of slavery is left behind (and for whom) in two quite different 'no longer slave'-formulations: John 15:15 and Gal 4:7. In John, Jesus's disciples are no longer slaves, who do not know what the master is doing, but friends, because Jesus has shared his knowledge with them. In Galatians, Paul informs his addressees similarly, but casts them as children, or rather as sons and heirs. But as Kartzow notes, '(t)o move from slavery to friendship was impossible for most people because of gender and class barriers' (p. 79). Similarly, the role of the son was, obviously, not open to women. Consequently, 'the "no longer slave" statements would work better for freeborn men than for women, slaves, or strangers' (p. 85). Kartzow could have made more of her acute discussion of the differences between the various categories involved here. For instance, she explains the shift from slavery to friendship as one rooted in knowledge: the enslaved are (cast) as ignorant, and therefore without involvement and control; the shift to friendship constituted a shift in access to knowledge. As she rightly notes, 'the social reality often was the other way round […] In fact, it was the slaves who knew everything' (p. 76). It seems to me obvious that if the 'no longer slave'-formulation in (e.g.) John draws its meaning from knowledge regimes, it 'may mean something else to a slave, who was an owned body with access to secrets and gossip' (p. 78). But what? Put the other way round, if an enslaved individual already had access to knowledge (e.g. in the household) because of their servile role, could they at all understand or experience the proposed 'no longer slave'-shift, which – to them – did precisely not constitute a structural shift in access to knowledge? It would have been helpful to hear Kartzow's views on this.

Chapters 4, 5 and 6 discuss several early Christian texts outside the NT. Kartzow here sets out to explore whether the slavery metaphor was 'an effective hierarchical power mechanism' (p. 97), i.e. a means to justify and reinforce the coercion of enslaved persons: her answer is (in part) positive. Kartzow gets close, but does not quite spell out that her discussion leads to the recognition that early Christianity promoted (all) women's sexual submission through its appropriation of the slavery metaphor. Inversely, discussing The Shepherd of Hermas (pp. 105-124), Kartzow explores the male-gendered dimensions of one freed from slavery, arguing that '(m)oving from slave to free means moving from being an un-man to becoming a man' (p. 117). Furthermore, Hermas 'must be no longer a slave in order to be a true slave of the Lord' (p. 119): the shift experienced by Hermas functions consequently 'to downplay real slavery' (p. 121). But what happens when metaphorical slavery actually overlaps with worldly slavery—as in The Acts of Thomas, when Jesus sells the unwilling apostle into slavery to force him to travel to India for the mission—i.e. to be trafficked? Here, the worldly slavery functions to enable Thomas to become 'the slave of god': real-life slavery emerges as a necessity for—and an entitlement of—the growing religion. As with Mary, 'the metaphor is made real […] The consequence of metaphorical slavery is real slavery' (p. 141). But Kartzow also goes the other way, suggesting in her discussion of leadership figures such as Hermas that the slavery metaphor could also 'work as a tool to overcome the trauma of slavery' through offering 'conceptual upward mobility'—i.e. honourable roles (or at least soothing visions of one's role) in the faith community (pp. 152–3).3 Engagement with the theoretical issues surrounding what Orlando Patterson has termed 'the ultimate slave' would have been useful here.4

Kartzow's study rightly foregrounds the quintessential tension between the use and meaning(s) of the slavery metaphor and the involvement of enslaved individuals in the faith community. But I did not think that I got an answer as to what these individuals may actually have made of the slavery metaphor, or how it affected them. The discussion would have benefitted from greater engagement with the studied texts; several complex and hotly debated passages are treated as if their (immediate) meaning was unambiguous (e.g. 1 Cor. 7.21). There is also a lack of due engagement with the modern literature—as for instance in the discussion of self-sale into slavery: Kartzow asks '(h)ow common was such self-slavery?' (p. 99)—a notoriously difficult question to answer given the nature of the evidence; but there is nevertheless much more to be said on the topic than the reference to a single scholar of early Christianity suggests.5 And 'which' slavery are we talking about anyhow, and in what (potentially overlapping and ever changing) contexts—Greek, Roman, Jewish, Near Eastern, Egyptian, or perhaps Christian (!), or some universal slavery? (The globalising nod to 'the Greco-Roman slavery system' or 'the slavery system of the ancient world' undermines the championed 'intersectionality': pp. 148 and 153.) Legal status categories are regularly confused with categories of social class (esp. in Chapter 6), while the theoretical jargon distracts from the analysis: do we need to speak of 'intersectionality' to say that different people understand one and the same phrase differently because of their diverse biographical make-ups and life experiences? There is also much repetition, and much that is put in the form of questions (repeatedly, again). I found the prose to be lacking more generally in sharpness. And the publisher's choice of referencing system adds further repetition: each chapter sports its own bibliography (listing works also given in other chapters), following moreover a set of endnotes (giving anyhow the full bibliographic information upon first mention). These criticisms apart, Kartzow's study breaks a lance for taking seriously the differences in perspectives among the audiences of early Christian texts, demonstrating the potential and urgency for more work along this line.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Thinking with Saleable Bodies: An Intersectional Approach to the Slavery Metaphor
Chapter 2: Embodying the Slavery Metaphor: Female Characters and Slavery Language
Chapter 3: Metaphor and Masculinity: The "no longer slave" Formulations (John 15:15 and Gal 4:7)
Chapter 4: The Paradox of Slavery: All Believers Are Slaves of the Lord, but Some Are More Slaves Than Others
Chapter 5: From Slave of a Female Owner to Slave of God: Negotiating Gender, Sexuality and Status in the Shepherd of Hermas
Chapter 6: Jesus, the Slave Trader: Metaphor made real in The Acts of Thomas


Notes:


1.   A classic example is the juridical discussion of manifest and non-manifest theft, especially when the distinction is difficult to grasp: Digest 47.2.7pr (Ulpian, Sabinus, book 41); cf. 47.2.2.
2.   See the wry remark by W. W. Buckland, The Roman Law of Slavery (Cambridge, 1908), 10: '(t)he Digest contains a vast number of texts which speaks of the slave, but would be equally significant if they spoke of any other subject of property'.
3.   The discussion of Hermas' 'slavish passion' in (worldly) freedom (p. 111), i.e. of sexual dimensions, as that of Thomas' asceticism (who is additionally free from 'the service of the belly', p. 136), would have benefitted from discussion of Stoic thought.
4.   O. Patterson, Slavery and Social Death. A Comparative Study (Cambridge, MA and London, 1982), 299–333.
5.   On the Roman side, see the various contributions by Morris Silver: e.g. Klio 98.1 (2016), 184-202; Mnemosyne 67 (2014), 577–87; Res Antiquae 10 (2013), 389-410; Ancient History Bulletin 25 (2011), 73–132.

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Wednesday, December 12, 2018

2018.12.27

W. Graham Claytor, A. M. F. W. Verhoogt (ed.), Papyri from Karanis: The Granary C123. Michigan papyri, XXI. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2018. Pp. xix, 196. ISBN 9780472130870. $95.00.

Reviewed by Jean A. Straus, Université de Liège (jean.straus@uliege.be)

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Précisons d'emblée que W.G. Claytor et A. Verhoogt ont édité ce volume des P. Mich. avec l'assistance de Paul Heilporn et Samantha Lash et qu'une petite dizaine de leurs étudiants ont pris part au déchiffrement et au commentaire de plusieurs papyrus.

En 1989, J. Bingen et W. Clarysse publiaient les ostraca grecs d'Elkab et jugeaient « qu'il importait, dans la mesure du possible, de regrouper les textes comme leurs derniers utilisateurs l'avaient fait plus ou moins consciemment et de les présenter dans leur contexte archéologique. »1 Ils éditaient donc les textes en les rangeant par maison où ils avaient été trouvés et en donnant chaque fois le plan de la maison. Les éditeurs des P. Mich. XXI poussent cette façon de faire aussi loin que les rapports de fouilles le permettent. Ils publient les papyrus trouvés dans les décombres d'un grenier (le grenier public ?) de Caranis (identifié par le sigle C123) en les rangeant selon chaque pièce et loge à grain du grenier dans laquelle ils ont été découverts et en fournissant pour chaque lieu informations, plans et parfois photographies. On sait donc exactement où se trouvait le papyrus que l'on est en train de lire et on peut même souvent visualiser l'endroit où on l'a découvert grâce aux photos. C'est une des qualités de la publication.

Dans une introduction numérotée comme un chapitre 1, les éditeurs font une brève histoire de Caranis, l'historique de l'activité archéologique dans le village et, plus particulièrement, celui des fouilles de l'Université du Michigan. Dans le chapitre 2, ils présentent de manière approfondie le résultats des fouilles effectuées dans le grenier C123. Ce chapitre est fondé sur une thèse de licence présentée par Samantha Lash. Vient ensuite l'édition de trente-sept papyrus qui ont été choisis pour des exercices « scolaires » sur base de leur lisibilité, caractère complet et intérêt de leur contenu.

Le grenier C123, construit dans la seconde moitié du premier siècle, a été pendant longtemps un des plus importants de Caranis. Assez étonnamment peu de papyrus trouvés sur le site informent sur le fonctionnement du grenier ; la grande majorité de ces papyrus sont des documents privés. Les éditeurs concluent que ces papyrus n'ont pas été abandonnés dans le grenier par des gens qui occupaient les lieux, mais qu'ils avaient été déposés là en tant que vieux papiers.

Le plus intéressant des papyrus publiés dans ce recueil est sans conteste le n° 827 (ca. 120-124). Il s'agit d'une prière, plus précisément, d'une litanie qui a dû être dite lors d'une ou de manifestations en rapport avec le culte de l'empereur. Le texte commence par une formule propitiatoire (léger doute) et une invitation à prier pendant le sacrifice. Suit une prière principale. Elle commence par une invocation à l'empereur régnant, Hadrien, et à ses prédécesseurs déifiés. Au dessus de la ligne 11, le scribe ajoute le préfet Haterius Nepos. Un second groupe d'invocations s'adresse aux dieux olympiens. On relève que parmi ceux-ci figurent Auguste déifié comme Zeus Eleutherios Sebastos et Alexandre le Grand qualifié de « fondateur » (ktiste̅s). La prière concerne ensuite les Romains, Alexandrins, habitants de Ptolémaïs du nome Arsinoïte, « amis et alliés » du peuple romain. Elle se termine par un groupe de douze souhaits pour le bien-être et la prospérité de la communauté qui fait la prière et toute la population de l'empire. Vient ensuite une prière propre à Caranis dont la structure est la même que celle de la prière principale avec les adaptations requises : les dieux grecs sont remplacés par des divinités locales et la population du village est associée à la prière. Le papyrus est remarquablement édité par le regretté Traianos Gagos et Paul Heilporn. Il en est de même du recto 828 qui contient au moins trois colonnes de noms de contribuables et de montants de céréales payés à l'État de la fin du premier siècle au début du second. – 836 (3-9-129) est un reçu délivré par des nomarques. Il concerne sans doute le transfert de taxes du bureau de douane de Caranis aux nomarques de l'Arsinoïte. – 842 (157/158 ou 158/159) Déclaration de terre non-inondée. 845 (87/88) Duplicata d'un certificat de penthemeros, le corvéable ayant perdu l'original. Ces quatre papyrus sont édités par Claytor.

Tous les autres documents sont moins étendus et sont incomplets. 829 (IIe-IIIe siècle) (Claytor). Couverture en bois de tablettes de cire. Le mot Caisairos y est inscrit, transcrivant du grec en caractère latins. – 830 (Lash). Registre de paiements de taxes sur la terre privée. Quatre paiements sont effectués entre le 23 août et le 22 septembre 308. – 831 (IIe s.) (T. Mayo). Fragments d'un traité astrologique. – 832 (avant 137) (A. Verhoogt). Compte. Attestation d'un nouveau stratège de la méride de Polémon. Le dos du document est utilisé pour une liste de personnes, ¬– 833 (IIe s.) (Verhoogt). Autres listes de personnes : 841 (écrit en Haute Égypte ?, fin Ier- début IIe s.) (Claytor et McLaughlin), 844 (milieu IIIe-début IVe s.), 851 (écrit en Haute Égypte ?, fin Ier-début IIe s. ?) et 850(IIe-IIIe s.), liste de tisserands (tous, Claytor). – 834 (Arsinoïte, 2e moitié du IVe s.) (Claytor). Liste de toponymes de l'Arsinoïte. – 835 (IVe s.) (Claytor). Document concernant la taxe levée en vue de l'achat de mules pour l'armée. – 837 (fin Ier-début IIe s.) (Claytor et A. Pistone). Registre journalier concernant le transport d'huile (et les droits de douane sur cette huile ?). – 839 (écrit à Phylakitike dans l'Arsinoïte ?, 300-301 ?) (Claytor et J. Stimson). Reçu délivré par un sitologue à deux personnes qui ont payé pour la location de terres à la place d'une autre en fuite. – 840 (IVe s.) (Claytor et Loehndorff). Quatre lignes d'un document (lettre ?) rédigé en une belle écriture de chancellerie. D'autres lettres se trouvent dans 843 (IIe s.) (Heilporn), lettre latine déjà publiée comme ChLA V 300 et C.Ep.Lat. I 163, mais avec ajout d'un fragment qui ne permet pas une meilleure compréhension du texte, et dans 853 (juin-juillet 122) (Claytor, Kimmerle, Mayo) , 854 (IIe s.) (Claytor et Stimson) et 856 (IIe-IIIe s.) (Lash). – 846 (91-96) (Claytor et Heilporn). Renonciation à une revendication sur des biens situés dans les environs de Caranis. – 847 (96/97) (Lash et Verhoogt). Reçu délivré par un signifer de la IIIe légion cyrénéenne pour le remboursement partiel d'un prêt. – 848 (après 138-140) (M. Landolfi). Document légal comprenant la copie d'une pétition à l'épistratège G. Iulius Petronianus. Des fragments de pétition se trouvent aussi dans 838 (fin Ier-milieu IIe s.), plainte pour agression et vol), et vraisemblablement dans 857 (IIe s.), seconde attestation en Égypte du nom romain Marinianus, 859 (Ier s. av. n.è.) quelques mots répartis sur quatre lignes (tous, Claytor) et 860 (écrite dans le nom Memphite, 176-179 ?) (A.P. Hayat, Lash, Stimson), en rapport avec un conventus tenu par le préfet d'Égypte Titus Pactumeius Magnus. – 849 (fin Ier-début IIe s.) (Claytor). Location d'un verger. – 852 (fin Ier-début IIe s.) (A. Kemmerle et T. Mayo). Fragment d'un document légal. – 855 (145 ?-146/147) (Claytor). Recus pour la taxe des jardins. – 858 (2e moitié du IIe s.) (Verhoogt). Liste de villages et de personnes. – 861 (258-260) (Kemmerle et Stimson). Formule de datation. – 862 (écrit dans le nome Memphite, IIe s.) (Claytor et Verhoogt). Offre de prise en location d'une maison du trésor public. – 863 (IIIe s.) (Lash) Document au contenu inconnu.

Tous les papyrus sont illustrés par une photographie située le plus souvent près du texte ce qui faciliterait la vérification de la transcription si la photo n'était parfois un peu petite.

Un des buts poursuivis par les éditeurs était de déterminer dans quelle mesure les nombreux papyrus trouvés dans les décombres du grenier C123 pouvaient aider à interpréter l'archéologie de la structure du grenier. L'apport est limité, constatent-ils. Il est surtout présent dans la date du bâtiment et de ses modifications. Sauf le numéro 827, les textes publiés, souvent très fragmentaires, apportent peu d'informations neuves. Mais tout papyrus doit d'être publié, car il peut être utile plus tard. L'édition des textes est excellente. Félicitations aux jeunes papyrologues et à leurs mentors, W.G. Claytor et A. Verhoogt !



Notes:


1.   J. Bingen & W. Clarysse, Elkab III. Les ostraca grecs (O. Elkab. gr.), Bruxelles, 1999, p. 28.

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2018.12.26

Michael Erler, Martin Andreas Stadler (ed.), Platonismus und spätägyptische religion: Plutarch und die Ägyptenrezeption in der römischen Kaiserzeit. Beiträge zur Altertumskunde, 364. Berlin: De Gruyter, 2017. Pp. vi, 335. ISBN 9783110531404. €99,95.

Reviewed by Elsa Giovanna Simonetti, Durham University - KU Leuven (elsa.simonetti@gmail.com)

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[Authors and titles are listed below.]

The present study collects thirteen contributions — diverse in focus and perspective — that aim at assessing the legacy of Egyptian culture in the Platonic philosophy of the first centuries AD. Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.

This edited volume bears witness to the recent scholarly tendency of questioning traditional discipli-nary barriers, and results from the discussions that animated an intense three-day conference held in Würzburg in May 2014. The meeting gathered together specialists from the two different fields of Greek studies and Egyptology, with the hope of inaugurating a fruitful dialogue and an enduring col-laboration between these two areas of specialism, all too often isolated and secluded in their own sepa-rate territories. In their Introduction, the editors Michael Erler and Martin Andreas Stadler wisely point out the risks connected to an inter-disciplinary synergy between the branches of Greek studies and Egyptology, in light of their distinct, and sometimes even conflicting, terminologies, methodologies and historical developments.

As the volume's subtitle suggests, the various approaches brought about by the contributors are cen-tred around a key ancient text: Plutarch's De Iside et Osiride. The thematic unity among the chapters is similarly attained by their shared (implicit or explicit) reference to one leading question: which kind of Egypt — and, in particular, the religions and customs of which age — had Plu-tarch in mind when writing his essay? And, more specifically, how and with what aim did he deal with, and re-employed, such material? The choice of De Iside as the main textual source and the formulation of this core research question proved perfect for provoking far-reaching reflection, extending to the wider late-antique cultural and religious landscape, and to the broader issue of the relationship between Greek philosophy and foreign sources of wisdom.

I now turn to look at some key points raised by each chapter — an overview that, for reasons of space, does not pretend to be exhaustive.

Görgemanns's opening study establishes an articulated connection between Plutarch's De Iside and the eleventh book of Apuleius' Metamorphoses — the so-called 'Isis-book'. Görgemanns emphasises Plutarch's resolute tone of the 'ritual reformer', who authoritatively suggests and promotes a form of superior, intellectual-philosophical worship to Isis' followers. Very convinc-ingly, he analyses Plutarch's passion for Egyptian lore, rituals, mysteries and myths in connection with his Platonist dualistic ontology, as developed in De animae procreatione in Timaeo. Plu-tarch's view thus conforms with the syncretistic Graeco-Roman conception of Isis (as attested in Apu-leius' Isis-book), which he re-elaborates in De Iside's allegorical reading of the Egyptian gods as cosmogonic principles. From this perspective, Plutarch emerges as establishing his own 'correct methodology' for reading contemporary mystery cults and beliefs, with clear ascetic aims and in a philosophical-didactic mode.

Martin Andreas Stadler investigates the reception of Egyptian culture in the Roman empire, and em-phasises from the very beginning the nature of Platonist philosophy as inherently open to dialogue with distant, foreign sources of wisdom. After addressing the pragmatic concern as to how Greeks and Egyptians could communicate, Stadler's Egyptological survey analyses, in succession: the Iseum Campense in Rome as a meaningful case study for the role of Isis and Osiris outside Egypt; Plu-tarch's correct intuitions about Egyptian culture, in light of papyrological evidence; and, finally, his overall knowledge of Egypt. Stadler — with great skill and expertise — stresses, behind the merely linguistic aspects of their ceaseless and variable interactions, the intrinsically discontinuous character of both Egyptian religious culture and Greek philosophical thinking over time.

Océane Henri offers a fresh and thought-provoking approach — based on the analysis of papyri and inscriptions — to the notion of interpretatio Graeca. As an Egyptologist, she focuses on how Greeks re-named the Egyptian deities, by making use of epithets that expressed the different virtues, abilities, and even ontological aspects and distinct facets of the gods — thus responding to the typical religious needs of the first centuries AD. As shown in particular by the archaeological findings that Henri analyses, gods were exported, imported and 'disguised' under chosen divine names, obtained by processes of etymological creativity or inventive translation.

Frederick E. Brenk's Searching for Truth seems itself an adventurous quest for truth among the many works of Plutarch considered (including the Amatorius, De defectu oracu-lorum, De animae procreatione and the works on animals), and among many scholarly studies, of which he offers an excellent survey. The main two recent books that Brenk takes into ac-count are: George Boys-Stones, Post-Hellenistic Philosophy. A Study of its Development from the Stoics to Origen (Oxford 2001), and Peter Van Nuffelen, Rethinking the Gods. Philo-sophical Readings of Greek Religion in the Post-Hellenistic Period (Oxford 2011) — employed to draw a distinction between two opposite views of ancient philosophers either as "actively searching" for truth in primeval and therefore authoritative sources of knowledge (as in the two books just men-tioned), or as using their own philosophy to "interpret and domesticate" foreign wisdom (p. 62).

Svenja Nagel's rich contribution returns to the connection between Plutarch's De Iside et Osiride and Apuleius' Metamorphoses XI. She questions the value of these writings as sources of information for Egyptian myth, rites and religious ideas in the Graeco-Roman world, in light of recent improvements in knowledge that Egyptologists have attained concerning religious texts from the Late Period onwards. Nagel acknowledges the Middle-Platonist background in which Plu- tarch and Apuleius were operating, and she effectively analyses their contributions on two main levels: one content-related, centred on the variegated image of Isis (a goddess of many names, faces, and functions) and on the actual sources available to the Greeks (literary texts as well as testimonies of private religious and magical practices); the other form-related, thus addressing the divergent literary genres chosen by Plutarch and Apuleius. The fairly unified image of Isis as a universal goddess that emerges is that of an intermediary between the world and the absolutely transcendent god, close to us and our earthy pains; it is defined by Nagel as reflecting the developments and spread of Isism inside and outside of Egypt in the first centuries AD.

David Klotz places emphasis on local religious traditions, circumscribed to specific civic centres, as a framework within which Plutarch's testimony has to be read and evaluated. Klotz concentrates on spe-cifically Theban rites, traditions, and cosmogonic theories, and he explores how these notions were exchanged through direct communication between Greek intellectuals and Egyptian priests. Klotz's proposal to restrict our focus to cultural and religious examples linked to specific places and times proves appropriate to reconstruct, and do justice to, the creative and variegated panorama of late antiq-uity — thus discarding the general, all-too-comprehensive, category of 'syncretism'. In this frame-work, Plutarch, as well as later Platonists, appear to have had access to first-hand information from the Nile Delta.

Joachim Friedrich Quack analyses De mysteriis aegyptiorum chaldaeorum assyriorum — a work seldom studied by Egyptologists, in order to prove its Egyptian background and inspiration. After dismantling the theory that the Chaldean Oracles had a pervasive influence on De Myste-riis — by a careful examination of three textual case studies —, Quack discloses the Egyptian derivation that characterises the three main themes of the essay, which are: the idea of a hierarchical theological structure, the fondness for divination and the notion of theurgy. The investigation is con-ducted from a rigorous philological perspective and takes into account an extremely fascinating set of case studies — ranging from the iconography of Horus, to the obscure etymology of 'Anebo'.

Christian Tornau concentrates on the relations between Plutarch's De Iside et Osiride and the Corpus Hermeticum — two admittedly different works, whose main discrepancy Tornau sees in the fact that the former presents a Platonic exegesis of Egyptian mythology, while the latter — with its revelations, aretalogies and epiphanies — is myth itself. Tornau admits (beside the notori-ously elusive nature of the Hermetica) the objective difficulty of tracing historical connections between these two distant worlds, which nevertheless display some intriguing conceptual meeting points (e.g., the centrality, and soteriological connotation, of the concepts of ἐπιστήμη and γνῶσις) and textual-stylistic similarities (e.g., their apostrophic, didactic-assertive tone). He concludes that both De Iside and the Hermetica are rooted in (and part of a creative process of transfor-mation of) Greek philosophical tradition.

Geert Roskam, for his part, revives the Platonic-Academic spirit of Plutarch by stressing the centrality of the 'zêtêma' as a form of philosophical enquiry in the writings of the Chaeronean, and in those of his age. Roskam takes us on a stimulating intellectual journey through Plutarch's ascending philosophical path, in which every step manifests an ever higher degree of verisimilitude. De Iside et Osiride manifests precisely this zetematic structure. And here comes Roskam's caveat — which acknowledges the impressive amount of information that Plutarch offers to Egyptologists, without distorting nor concealing it: every interpretation of the myth that Plutarch presents has its own dignity, contains a grain of truth, and therefore must not be disregarded. Plutarch's philosophical tar-get lies indeed in the process of searching rather than in the impossible acquisition of a defini-tive truth.

Jan Tattko brings attention to the rhetor Aelius Aristides, whom he portrays as a model of reception and appropriation of Egyptian ideas in the Roman empire, thus attesting to the pervasiveness of this influence outside Platonist philosophy as well. He focuses especially on two works of Aristides that show his familiarity and eyewitness knowledge of Egyptian wisdom, probably acquired in Alexandria: the Αἰγύπτιος Λόγος (Or. 36, a composition marked by a strong geographic-antiquarian taste) and the hymn to Sarapis (Εἰς Σάραπιν = Or. 45, praising all the different faces and virtues of the Alexandrian god).

The last three contributions deal with different examples of the charming iconographic power of the Egyptian world, as read through the prism of Greek philosophy. Alexandra von Lieven proposes a thorough investigation of Porphyry's De cultu simulacrorum, fr. 10, preserved in Eusebius' Praeparatio Evangelica (3.11.45-3.13.2): here, Porphyry illustrates a series of Egyptian idols, of which he develops his own allegorical interpretation. Andreas H. Pries, in his original, captivating study, explores the function of hieroglyphics to display a possible connection between Platonic and Egyptian mindset — thus identifying a common point between Greek philosophy as "Denken in Bild-ern" (Hirsch-Luipold 2002)1 and Egyptian "hieroglyphischem Denken" (Hornung 1999)2 (pp. 296-297). Pries' investigation is centred on three main texts, of which he shows unexpected points of contact: the Demotic Book of the Dead, the Gnostic treatise Evangelium Veritatis and Plotinus, Enneads 5.8.6. Rene Pfeilschifter finally takes into account Synesius' Egyptian Tale, or On Providence, and proves that its significance extends far beyond historiog-raphy — with its re-elaboration of the Osiris myth, and more broadly its stress on Egyptian culture as a lively, sublime repository of iconographies and enigmatic messages.

What we get from the book as a whole is the image of late antiquity as a vibrant world, whose real character is brought to light by all these accurate, close studies devoted to the manifold interactions between ancient Greek and Egyptian wisdom. This fertile interplay — which appears to have produced always surprising results in antiquity, given the incessant mutability of the two main speakers involved in this dialogue, and of all the many factors in play — is thus well reflected in the present volume, and is confirmed by the original, always instructive outcomes reached by its chapters.

More specifically, this collection clarifies that the testimonies of Plutarch (as well as of other Pla-tonists) must be read and assessed within a sound methodological framework, and require the prelimi-nary consideration of the specific content and literary form, also in light of their broader philosophical-ideological agenda. All too often, indeed, scholars quote passages of Plutarch (sometimes drawn from the words of a random character in his dialogues) in an uncritical and decontextualised way, and treat them as pieces of secure information. Conversely, in the pages of this book we also find an important invitation for scholars of ancient philosophy to open up to precious (but mostly neglected or dis-missed as 'too eccentric') textual sources, such as the Corpus Hermeticum and the Papyri Graecae Magicae.

These are only some of the many valuable instructions offered by Platonismus und spätägyptische Religion to anyone willing to initiate profitable interdisciplinary collaborations in the field of clas-sical studies.

Authors and titles

Michael Erler, Martin Andreas Stadler, Zur Einführung
Herwig Görgemanns, Plutarchs Isis-Buch
Martin Andreas Stadler, Ägyptenrezeption in der römischen Kaiserzeit
Océane Henri, A general approach to interpretatio Graeca in the light of papyrological evidence
Frederick E. Brenk, 'Searching for Truth'?
Svenja Nagel, Mittelplatonische Konzepte der Göttin Isis bei Plutarch und Apuleius im Vergleich mit ägyptischen Quellen der griechisch-römischen Zeit
David Klotz, Elements of Theban Theology in Plutarch and his Contemporaries
Joachim Friedrich Quack, (H)abamons Stimme?
Christian Tornau, Im Namen des Gottgeziemenden
Geert Roskam, On the multi-coloured robes of philosophy
Jan Tattko, Ägypten auf der Bühne der sophistischen Rhetorik in der römischen Kaiserzeit
Alexandra von Lieven, Porphyrios und die ägyptische Religion vor dem Hintergrund ägyptischer Quellen
Andreas H. Pries, ἔμψυχα ἱερογλυφικά II
Rene Pfeilschifter, Osiris in Konstantinopel oder: Synesios' Ägyptische Erzählungen


Notes:


1.   Hirsch-Luipold, Rainer (2002), Plutarchs Denken in Bildern. Studien zur literarischen, philoso-phischen und religiösen Funktion des Bildhaften, Tübingen.
2.   Hornung (2001): Erik Hornung, „'Hieroglyphisch denken'. Bild und Schrift im alten Ägypten", in: Gottfried Boehm (Hg.), Homo pictor (Colloquium Rauricum 7), München/Leipzig, 76– 86.

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